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pinkflower2003 · 6 days

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Hii idk if you write for Seb Vettel so you can change this if you want, but can u write a fic set in 2011 where the reader and Seb have been quietly dating for a while unknown to the public but Seb is too focused on trying to win and so he breaks up with her,, but plot twist!!! Fernando who has had a crush on her since they met consoles her and they end up publicly together in the end while Seb regrets the breakup and dedicates his 2011 WDC to her 😼😼😼

At What Cost?

Sebastian Vettel x reader, Fernando Alosno x reader

a/n: thank you so this request sweetheart! I hope i’ve done this justice for you💗

ask berry (thats me!)🍓

The noise of the Formula 1 paddock was a cacophony of engines, voices, and the subtle hum of anticipation that buzzed before a race weekend. It was here, amidst the fast-paced world of racing, that you found yourself entangled in a relationship with none other than Sebastian Vettel. Your love story with Seb had begun quietly, away from the prying eyes of the media and fans.

You had met Sebastian during the 2010 season when he was emerging as a formidable force in the world of Formula 1. He was charming, intelligent, and his passion for racing was contagious. Over time, your paths crossed more frequently, and what started as casual conversations about racing evolved into late-night talks and secret rendezvous. Before long, you were in a relationship, hidden from the world but very real to both of you.

Sebastian had a singular focus: winning. His drive and determination were part of what drew you to him, but as the 2011 season progressed, his focus shifted entirely to securing his second World Drivers' Championship. You understood the pressure he was under, the weight of expectations from his team, his sponsors, and himself. But it left little room for your relationship, which began to feel like a distant second to his racing career.

———

It was a rainy evening in June when Sebastian finally broke the news to you. The European Grand Prix was just days away, and he was more stressed than you'd ever seen him. You had been supportive, understanding, trying to be the anchor he needed amidst the storm of his career. But it wasn’t enough.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely audible over the rain pounding against the window of his Monaco apartment. "I can't do this anymore."

You stared at him, unable to comprehend his words. "What do you mean, Seb? What are you saying?"

"I need to focus on winning the championship. I can't afford any distractions, and… and this, us… it's a distraction." His eyes were filled with a mixture of pain and determination.

"Seb, I'm not asking you to choose between me and racing. I just want to be there for you, to support you," you pleaded, tears streaming down your face.

"I know, and I appreciate that more than you can imagine. But right now, I can't give you what you deserve. It's not fair to you," he said, his voice breaking. "I'm so sorry."

The breakup was swift and brutal. Sebastian's need for focus on his career left no room for compromise. You left his apartment, your heart shattered, the rain mingling with your tears as you walked away from the man you loved.

The days that followed were a blur of pain and confusion. You avoided the paddock as much as possible, not wanting to face the constant reminders of Sebastian. It was during this time that Fernando Alonso, a fierce competitor on the track and someone you had known for years, reached out to you. Fernando had always been kind to you, and while you knew he was a rival to Seb, you never expected the depth of his concern for you.

Fernando found you sitting alone in the quiet corner of the team's hospitality area at the British Grand Prix. "Hey," he said softly, sitting down beside you. "How are you holding up?"

You looked at him, surprised by his presence. "I'm… managing," you replied, your voice shaky.

"I heard about what happened with Seb," Fernando said gently. "I'm really sorry."

"Thank you, 'Nando. It's been hard," you admitted, feeling a sense of relief at finally being able to talk about it.

Fernando's support was unwavering. He listened as you poured out your heart, his empathy and understanding providing a balm to your wounded soul. Over the next few weeks, Fernando became a constant presence in your life. He made you laugh, offered a shoulder to cry on, and slowly, you found yourself healing.

———

As the summer of 2011 progressed, your bond with Fernando deepened. You were hesitant at first, unsure if you were ready to open your heart again so soon. But Fernando was patient, never pushing you beyond what you were comfortable with. He was the opposite of Sebastian in many ways – where Seb was intense and focused, Fernando was relaxed and easygoing. Yet, he shared the same passion for racing that had initially drawn you to Seb.

One evening, after a particularly exhilarating race in Monza, Fernando took you out for a quiet dinner away from the crowds. The Italian night was warm, the atmosphere electric from the day's events.

"You know," Fernando began, his eyes reflecting the candlelight, "I've liked you for a long time. Even when you were with Seb, I couldn't help but admire you."

You looked at him, stunned by his confession. "Fernando, I… I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," he said, taking your hand in his. "I just wanted you to know how I feel. I understand if you're not ready for anything more. I'm here for you, no matter what."

Tears welled up in your eyes, but this time they were tears of gratitude and hope. "Thank you, Fernando. You've been amazing, and I… I think I might be ready to try again. With you."

Fernando's smile lit up the room, and he leaned in to kiss you gently. It was a new beginning, a chance to move forward and find happiness again.

By the time the season was winding down, your relationship with Fernando was no longer a secret. The media had picked up on the chemistry between you two, and the fans were buzzing with speculation. You both decided it was time to go public.

At the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, you stood by Fernando's side, hand in hand, as he faced the press. The questions were inevitable, and Fernando handled them with grace and confidence.

"Yes, we are together," he confirmed, smiling at you. "And I'm very happy."

The announcement was met with a flurry of reactions, but the overwhelming support from the racing community was heartwarming. For the first time in months, you felt a sense of peace and contentment.

———

Sebastian Vettel clinched the 2011 World Drivers' Championship with a dominant performance. It was everything he had worked for, everything he had sacrificed for. But as he stood on the podium, the champagne spraying around him, there was a hollow feeling in his chest.

He had won, but at what cost?

Sebastian watched as Fernando celebrated with you, the two of you radiating happiness. It was then that he realized what he had truly lost. He had thought he needed to push everything else aside to achieve his dreams, but in doing so, he had pushed away the person who had supported him the most.

When the time came for his championship speech, Sebastian took a deep breath, his mind racing with thoughts of you. "This championship means the world to me," he began, his voice steady. "But there's someone who I owe a great deal of thanks to, someone who isn't here with me today. She was my rock, my support, and I didn't appreciate her enough. This championship is dedicated to her. I hope she knows how much she meant to me."

As his words echoed through the room, a hush fell over the crowd. You watched from the sidelines, your heart heavy with emotion. Sebastian's regret was palpable, and while you appreciated his dedication, you knew that your path had taken a different turn.

———

Life moved on, as it always does. You continued to support Fernando, traveling with him to races and standing by his side. Your relationship blossomed, built on mutual respect, understanding, and love. You knew that Fernando would always have your back, just as you had his.

Sebastian, meanwhile, focused on his career. He had learned a hard lesson about balance and the importance of cherishing those who support you. While he regretted how things had ended with you, he found solace in knowing that you were happy.

The 2011 season ended, and a new one began. You stood in the paddock, your hand entwined with Fernando's, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. The future was uncertain, but you were no longer afraid. You had found love again, and this time, you knew it was built to last.

As the cars roared to life on the track, you felt a sense of excitement and anticipation. The world of Formula 1 was unpredictable and thrilling, much like your own journey. But no matter what happened, you knew you had found your place – not just as the partner of a racing driver, but as someone who was loved and valued for who you were.

And that was worth more than any championship.

#formula one imagine #f1 imagine #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #fernando alonso fic #fernando alonso #fernando alonso x reader #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel imagine

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armoricaroyalty · 5 months

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Film Grammar for Simmers

What is film grammar?

"Film grammar" refers the unstated "rules" of editing used in movies and TV. Different types of shots have different associations and are used by editors to convey different types of information to the audience. Many of these principles were first described in the early 20th century by Soviet directors, but they're used consistently across genre, medium, and even language: Bollywood musicals, English period dramas, Korean horror movies, and American action blockbusters all use many of the same techniques.

Because these rules are so universal, virtually everyone has some internalized understanding of them. Even if they can’t name the different types of shots or explain how editors use images to construct meaning, the average person can tell when the “rules” are being broken. If you’ve ever thought a movie or episode of TV was confusing without being able to say why, there’s a good chance that there was something off with the editing.

Learning and applying the basics of film grammar can give your story a slicker and more-polished feel, without having to download shaders or spend hours in photoshop. It also has the bonus of enhancing readability by allowing your audience to use their knowledge of film and TV to understand what's happening in your story. You can use it to call attention to significant plot details and avoid introducing confusion through unclear visual language.

Best of all, it doesn't cost a dime.

The basics: types of shots

Shots are the basic building block of film. In Sims storytelling, a single shot is analogous to a single screenshot. In film, different types of shots are distinguished by the position of the camera relative to the subject. There are three big categories of shots, with some variation: long shots (LS), medium shots (MS), and close-ups (CU). This diagram, created by Daniel Chandler and hosted on visual-memory.co.uk illustrates the difference:

Source: The 'Grammar' of Television and Film, Daniel Chandler, visual-memory.co.uk. Link.

In film, scenes typically progress through the different types of shots in sequence: long shot, medium shot, close-up. When a new scene begins and the characters arrive in a new location, we typically begin with a wide establishing shot of the building’s exterior to show the audience where the scene will be taking place. Next comes a long shot of an interior space, which tells the where the characters are positioned relative to one another. The next shot is a medium shot of the characters conversing, and then finally, a close-up as the conversation reaches its emotional or informational climax. Insert shots are used judiciously throughout to establish themes or offer visual exposition.

Here's another visual guide to the different types of shots, illustrated with stills from Disney animated films.

This guide is almost 2,000 words long! To save your dash, I've put the meat of it under the cut.

Long shot and extreme long shots

A long shot (sometimes also called a wide shot) is one where the entire subject (usually a building, person, or group of people) is visible within the frame. The camera is positioned far away from the subject, prioritizing the details of the background over the details of the subject.

One of the most common uses of long shots and extreme long shots are establishing shots. An establishing shot is the first shot in a scene, and it sets the tone for the scene and is intended to give the viewer the information they’ll need to follow the scene: where a scene is taking place, who is in the scene, and where they are positioned in relation to one another. Without an establishing shot, a scene can feel ungrounded or “floaty.” Readers will have a harder time understanding what’s happening in the scene because on some level, they’ll be trying to puzzle out the answers to the who and where questions, distracting them from the most important questions: what is happening and why?

(I actually like to start my scenes with two establishing shots: an environmental shot focusing on the scenery, and then a second shot that establishes the characters and their position within the space.)

Long shots and extreme long shots have other uses, as well. Because the subject is small relative to their surroundings, they have an impersonal effect which can be used for comedy or tragedy.

In Fargo (1996) uses an extreme long shot to visually illustrate the main character’s sense of defeat after failing to secure funding for a business deal.The shot begins with a car in an empty parking lot, and then we see the protagonist make his way up from the bottom of the frame. He is alone in the shot, he is small, and the camera is positioned above him, looking down from a god-like perspective. All of these factors work together to convey his emotional state: he’s small, he’s alone, and in this moment, we are literally looking down on him. This shot effectively conveys how powerless he feels without any dialogue or even showing his face.

The same impersonal effect can also be used for comic purposes. If a character says something stupid or fails to impress other characters, cutting directly from a close-up to a long shot has a visual effect akin to chirping crickets. In this instance, a long shot serves as a visual “wait, what?” and invites the audience to laugh at the character rather than with them.

Medium Shots

Medium shots are “neutral” in filmmaking. Long shots and close-ups convey special meaning in their choice to focus on either the subject or the background, but a medium shot is balanced, giving equal focus to the character and their surroundings. In a medium shot, the character takes up 50% of the frame. They’re typically depicted from the waist-up and the audience can see both their face and hands, allowing the audience to see the character's facial expression and read their body-language, both important for interpreting meaning.

In most movies and TV shows, medium shots are the bread and butter of dialogue-heavy scenes, with close-ups, long shots, and inserts used for punctuation and emphasis. If you’re closely following the conventions of filmmaking, most of your dialogue scenes will be medium shots following the convention of shot-reverse shot:

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To keep long conversations from feeling too visually monotonous, consider staging the scene as a walk-and-talk. Having two characters move through a space can add a lot of dynamism and visual interest to a scene that might otherwise feel boring or stiff.

Close Ups

Close-ups are close shots of a character’s face. The camera is positioned relatively near to the subject, showing just their head and shoulders. In a close-up, we don’t see any details of the background or the expressions of other characters.

In film, close-ups are used for emphasis. If a character is experiencing a strong emotion or delivering an important line of dialogue, a close-up underscores the importance of the moment by inviting the audience to focus only on the character and their emotion.

Close-ups don’t necessarily need to focus on the speaker. If the important thing about a line of dialogue is another character’s reaction to it, a close-up of the reaction is more effective than a close-up of the delivery.

One of the most iconic shots in Parasite (2019) is of the protagonist driving his employer around while she sits in the backseat, speaking on the phone. Even though she’s the one speaking, the details of her conversation matter less than the protagonist’s reaction to it. While she chatters obliviously in the background, we focus on the protagonist’s disgruntled, resentful response to her thoughtless words and behavior.

In my opinion, Simblr really overuses close-ups in dialogue. A lot of conversation scenes are framed entirely in close-ups, which has the same effect of highlighting an entire page in a textbook. The reader can’t actually tell what information is important, because the visuals are screaming that everything is important. Overusing close-ups also cuts the viewer off from the character’s body language and prevents them from learning anything about the character via their surroundings.

For example, a scene set in someone’s bedroom is a great opportunity for some subtle characterization—is it tidy or messy? what kind of decor have they chosen? do they have a gaming computer, a guitar, an overflowing bookshelf?—but if the author chooses to use only close-ups, we lose out on a chance to get to know the character via indirect means.

Inserts

An insert shot is when a shot of something other than a character’s face is inserted into a scene. Often, inserts are close-ups of a character’s hands or an object in the background. Insert shots can also be used to show us what a character is looking at or focusing on.

In rom-com The Prince & Me (2004) (see? I don’t just watch crime dramas…) the male lead is in an important meeting. We see him pick up a pen, look down at the papers in front of him, and apparently begin taking notes, but then we cut to an insert shot of his information packet. He’s doodling pictures of sports cars and is entirely disengaged from the conversation. Every other shot in the scene is an establishing shot or a medium shot or a close-up of someone speaking, but this insert gives us insight into the lead’s state of mind: he doesn’t want to be there and he isn’t paying attention.

Insert shots are, in my opinion, also used ineffectively on Simblr. A good insert gives us extra insight into what a character is thinking or focusing on, but a poorly-used insert feels…unfocused. A good insert might focus on pill bottles on a character’s desk to suggest a chemical dependency, on a family picture to suggest duty and loyalty, on a clock to suggest a time constraint, on a pile of dirty laundry or unanswered letters to suggest a character is struggling to keep up with their responsibilities. An ineffective insert shot might focus on the flowers in the background because they’re pretty, on a character’s hands because it seems artsy, on the place settings on a dining table because you spent forever placing each one individually and you’ll be damned if they don’t make it into the scene. These things might be lovely and they might break up a monotonous conversation and they might represent a lot of time and effort, but if they don’t contribute any meaning to a scene, consider cutting or repurposing them.

I want to emphasize: insert shots aren’t bad, but they should be carefully chosen to ensure they’re enhancing the meaning of the scene. Haphazard insert shots are distracting and can interfere with your reader’s ability to understand what is happening and why.

Putting it all together

One of the most basic principles of film theory is the Kuleshov effect, the idea that meaning in film comes from the interaction of two shots in sequence, and not from any single shot by itself. In the prototypical example, cutting from a close-up of a person’s neutral expression to a bowl of soup, children playing, or soldiers in a field suggests hunger, worry, or fear, respectively.

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The Kuleshov effect is the essence of visual storytelling in a medium like Simblr. You can elevate your storytelling by thinking not only about each individual shot, but about the way they’ll interact and flow into one another.

Mastering the basics of film grammar is a great (free!) way to take your storytelling to the next level. To learn more, you can find tons of guides and explainers about film grammar for free online, and your local library doubtless has books that explain the same principles and offers additional analysis.

Happy simming!

#armorica tips #armorica ooc #i finally got off my ass to finish this guide which i started back in August right before I got extremely sick and ended up in the hospital #anyway....hope you enjoyed this post which was a veiled excuse for me to complain about how people overuse close-ups and inserts #and i can't tell what's happening in their stories ;fdsklsjadf;laksdf #Youtube

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genericpuff · 4 months

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Can you call Tina Belcher driving through a parking lot at an anxious snail's pace a driving "style"? So why do we try to use "style" as a defense for LO's pacing problems?

There's something about how Lore Olympus engrosses people within its weekly doses of H x P content and cliffhangers that makes people not realize just how long Lore Olympus takes to get to the point of, well, anything. Many plotlines are setup, and then go untouched for weeks, sometimes months at a time, before seeing any sort of progress, much less a resolution. In this, I'm going to actually give you time ranges on some of the more egregious payoffs and continuations of plotlines that were setup - some that are now resolved, others that have yet to see the light of day.

CONTENT WARNING: I will be discussing the SA plotline, and there will be spoilers for Episode 265. I will also be showing pictures of some rancid ass tattoos, I know that sounds random for what we're discussing, but trust me on this one, I have a point to make. Also there's a Junji Ito panel from The Enigma of Amigara Fault... yeah, that one.

LEUCE

Let's start with an easy one that's not exactly tied to the main plot. The Leuce plotline. She was first introduced in Episode 201 as a 'bargaining chip' from Zeus to Hades, in a misfired attempt to get Hades to call a truce over the embargo between the Underworld and Olympus.

At the time of this episode's release, by all accounts this seemed to be a cut and dry reference to Hades' first wife, Leuce, unfortunately reduced to a mail-order bride who Hades, of course, turns down, because he doesn't want the "I can't believe it's not butter" Persephone, he wants overpriced, tastes-the-same-but-costs-more-because-of-the-brand-name Persephone.

But then she came back, 36 episodes later - in real time, this was roughly 38 weeks for free-to-read users as the series went on a 2 week hiatus near the start of S3 - only to be used as a cliffhanger leading into a recycled Minthe plotline, in which she attempted to seduce Hades in Episode 238, only to be shot down for the second time.

If you're having a tough time wrapping your head around how long 36 weeks really is, that's nine months. If you got pregnant when Leuce was first revealed, you'd be entering the final window of pregnancy by the time she returned, assuming the baby didn't come pre-term.

Another 7 weeks later, enough time to actually get pregnant again following that first baby, we got the sudden continuation of that plot, with Persephone invading her home and filling it with barn animals, with a not-so-subtle threat to Leuce to stay away from her husband.

"But what about the text messages? Were they really from Hades?" Well, if you were someone reading this comic in real time, you wouldn't have this question answered for another SIX EPISODES - that's a month and a half in real time - and the answer would ultimately be "she made it up, she was 'manifesting', none of it's real, they should call her Deleuceional!" Six weeks for a nothingburger answer to wrap up a nothingburger sideplot, all in the pursuit to 'prove' for the 1275903729 time that Hades and Persephone are truly meant to be together.

EROS AND PSYCHE

This is a big one. The Eros x Psyche plotline was one of the most popular romance subplots, second only to Hades and Persephone, throughout the comic. And yet, despite people holding their breath to see what would become of the star-crossed lovers, a mortal and a god-

-readers in September 2021 would not find out how their recent skirmish with Apollo in Episode 171 would resolve itself until Episode 218, A YEAR AND TWO MONTHS - ROUGHLY 60 WEEKS AND A MIDSEASON HIATUS - LATER, and even then it would only show us Eros, who quickly summarizes what happened to him during the entire trial and Kronos arc that his anticipated romance storyline got sidelined for - he got married and now he has a child.

And it wouldn't be for ANOTHER six weeks that his wife and the mother of his child would actually show up, not alongside Eros, but Aphrodite and Hephaestus, in Episode 224.

What happened to her after finally having her 'true form' revealed to Eros? Well, that's not shown for another three weeks in Episode 227. During this a bunch of info about how Psyche got out of that sticky Apollo situation is dumped on us and we just have to go along with it as she becomes a goddess, not because she earned a place among the Olympians, but because Zeus needs her to spy on Apollo, which was actually shown one episode prior in 226.

So let's say you got knocked up again after that Leuce baby, when Eros and Psyche were shot out of the sky. Welp, in the time it took for Rachel to get around explaining what happened to the both of them, now you just had your second baby and for all we know, you could have gone for a third and already be well into or near the end of your first trimester, if you really wanted to get busy. You'd have a Dionysus, a Melinoe, and maybe even a Demophoon. Congratulations.

And speaking of Melinoe-

MELINOE

Turns out the interloper and the child in Tartarus were one and the same, or at least that's what I'm assuming, because otherwise that would mean there's some whole ass other baby to worry about that we haven't even been introduced to yet.

Melinoe, or "the child deity", was first established in Episode 218.

But as per LO tradition, the child would only mentioned in passing every now and then until finally being revealed as Melinoe in Episode 252, a whopping... THIRTY EIGHT FUCKING WEEKS LATER.

And that waiting is still ongoing as Melinoe is, of course, still trapped in Tartarus, with no end in sight. Since then, Hades and Persephone have gotten married, kidnapped a child, Persephone has terrorized a nymph and caused yet ANOTHER genocide, and they've resurrected a child that was suddenly revealed to be Demeter's. Thirty eight weeks and counting of dragging on a plotline that we're supposed to believe is dire while the characters do sweet fuck all.

What was the name of that other dream baby that Rachel referenced from some obscure non-legitimate source?

Riiiight, Brimos. Congrats, there's pregnancy number 4. But can we find a way to make a fifth happen?

KASSANDRA

We're first introduced to Kassandra, another implied victim of Apollo's, in Episode 226 when a photo of her is found on Apollo's pen drive which was conveniently left on the ground for Psyche to swipe.

In Episode 227, they theorize on how they could track down this mystery woman, using either Eros or Aphrodite's abilities to find her through the power of

✨love✨

How will that actually work though? Has anyone ever been in love with Kassandra, or has she ever been in love with anyone else?

Any bets on how long it would be until we'd get our answer?

Episode 251. The same episode where we're finally told about Leuce's delusions, we suddenly skip to the reveal of Kassandra being Apollo's personal oracle.

And it still doesn't end up answering our question as to how Kassandra was tracked down, by the way. Eros and Psyche sorta just conveniently find her at the same time Apollo happens to be there when he's getting her to deliver her big prophecy to him.

That's twenty four weeks, meaning you're now near the end of your second trimester with child #4. Whoever the child is remains to be seen but I'm sure Rachel will find a way to shoehorn another helpless baby into the plot for Hades and Persephone to rescue who we can use for this metaphor.

But none of these come close to the greatest unresolved plotline of them all, the one plotline that has outlasted even the main H x P plotline of Lore Olympus' story-

APOLLO

Or more specifically, the SA. Rachel has tried so hard to twist Apollo into a villain of Disney proportions, through his sudden involvement with Ouranos, while also using him as a mouthpiece for her own critics by having him literally dish out word-for-word the criticisms that have been made towards Rachel's writing of Persephone-

But the core foundation of his plotline goes all the way back to 2018, when he assaulted Persephone, a plotline that has yet to resolve itself or show any progression beyond Rachel's half-baked attempts at speedrunning Persephone's healing process, while Apollo is still at large and hasn't been brought to justice.

We've seen her in very poorly-written therapy where her assault was addressed once. We've seen her grapple with the potential consequences of the SA through a gynecologist scene that, as I've discussed before, does more harm than good in helping the discussion around women's sexual health. And of course, Rachel will pepper in vague references to the SA every now and then when she's bothered to remember that it's a plotline she wrote and still hasn't resolved:

And judging by how the story has been progressing, Rachel seems far more intent on simply using Apollo as a mouthpiece for criticism and a puppet for Ouranos rather than focusing on the bigger issues, all while Persephone has helped more people cope with the assault that happened to her rather than receiving help herself.

What's really telling is that despite half of the Olympians at this point knowing what Apollo did, not one of them even tries to convince Persephone to come forward, or say something themselves. Daphne has more than enough reason to come forward. Artemis, Hera, Eros, Hermes, and Hephaestus all know what he did, and yet none of them say a thing, even when those of them who haven't been conveniently shoehorned out of the plot are still in the same room as him-

The assault scene happened in August 2018. It's been five and a half years since it was established, and while there have been small efforts made to resolve it - from Hera and Hephaestus having the photos deleted to Persephone seeking therapy - there's less reason now than ever for it to not be addressed, especially with so much at stake. I could side with Persephone not wanting to say anything in the beginning, when he was blackmailing her with the photos and her TGOEM scholarship was on the line, but now that she's a Queen, rich, and married to Hades, living in the Underworld where he can't get to her, without any schooling or scholarship or job to worry about or the photos hanging over her head, it comes across as flat out irresponsible that not a single person thinks it's worth mentioning. Even the narrative itself seems to be trying to undo the SA entirely.

At this point, I'm not confident it will be mentioned at all, and that Apollo will be conveniently dealt with as a pawn of Ouranos rather than as a perpetrator of violence towards women.

A FINAL ANALYSIS OF LO'S PACING

There are certainly far more examples of this weekly edging happening throughout LO, but I hope the ones I provided get across the point I'm trying to make about its pacing.

Of course, none of these gaps in time are happening back-to-back-to-back. This is Lore Olympus' writing "style", if you can call it that - constantly bombard the reader with separate plot points so that they'll either not remember the ones that were left behind, or so that Rachel can buy herself time to get herself out of the corner she wrote herself into. It's the equivalent of clickbait, constantly grabbing your attention with shiny new things that will replace whatever you just saw in your brain, on a constantly repeating cycle. It's the writing process of inexperienced amateurs, like what you'd see in short stories written by fifth graders - "and then this happened, and then this happened, and then this happened", with no theme or overarching meaning tying them together; and if you were to ask them why a certain thing happens, especially if it logically doesn't make sense, the answer is just, "well, because it does." There's no rhyme or reason, they just thought it was cool.

And I say "style" because while fans of LO have definitely defended the story's pacing as just a writing style, the actual execution of what they're implying is painful to watch and not what any experienced writer would call a legitimate style. It's not uncommon at all in long-running series like this to jump from plotline to plotline, often times longform stories like these have to balance multiple side plots at once to keep things engaging and to bulk up the plot with more actual content.

But in most cases, the reader will expect the speed of a plot's resolution to be relative to its urgency. If a casual B plot with low stakes is introduced, it's not necessarily doing any harm if it just sits there for a bit before finally being resolved. After all, it's low stakes and no one is being hurt by it existing on the sidelines. It might feel a bit like pointless fluff, but there's nothing necessarily wrong with fluff and it can offer fun and relaxed reprieves from the overarching narrative, assuming you integrate them well so they're not drawing attention away from those more urgent plotlines at the worst possible times (looking at you, Stranger Things S2 Episode 7-)

But when even the high stakes plots are being hung out to dry and treated like distractions and fluff, it comes across less like a decisive writing "style" and more just directionless pantsing from an inexperienced writer who's gotten themselves in way too deep.

And that's what really separates Rachel's writing problems from "style". Style is decisive. Style is the act of referencing over a set period of time, crafting what you like and what you've learned into something new, with rounds and rounds of fine-tuning. Style is experience put into action.

And, while I don't typically like using my own work as a comparison, LORE | REKINDLED is meant to try and recapture the original magic of Lore Olympus' art style and writing foundations - and even then, you can still see the clear difference between Episodes 14 and 44, which use the same panel from the same scene, but look vastly different due to the improvement and refinement that's happened over time.

Same style, but different levels of experience and skill, which is to be expected after weeks and weeks of fine-tuning and deliberate practice.

If you're lacking in your fundamentals, whether in art or writing, you can't equate that lack of skill to "style" because you're not choosing to be inexperienced, you just are. And that's okay! But to try and pass it off as 'style' implies that you're choosing to be inexperienced - when in reality, if you tried to put out anything beyond your skill level, you simply wouldn't be able to, because you haven't gained those skills yet. Like fifth graders writing short stories with the "and then this happened" model, "it's just my style" is often used as an excuse by young artists and writers who don't understand that style is not exclusively an end result of inexperience.

I'm gonna go on a tangent here, but there's this controversial but trendy style in tattooing called 'ignorant', and it's best defined as "tattooing badly on purpose".

These tattoos are regularly praised for their simplistic ingenuity and visual aesthetic but equally criticized for being the opposite of what many artists have worked to overcome - being "bad at art". After all, who would willingly pay for a bad-looking tattoo? It's because it's the style that's in demand. I would argue that it takes a lot of confidence and mastery of the craft to be purposefully bad at it and make it look good, as contradictory as that sounds.

As much as the lines may be wobbly and the anatomy poor, ignorant style tattoos are done purposefully by experienced artists who still know how to properly tattoo. As much as they may look like they were drawn by a middle schooler, they will still heal properly, the lines will hold up, and the client will not (or at least, should not) experience any excessive scarring or unhygienic practices as one would experience from an actual inexperienced artist-

In a genuinely poorly-done tattoo, the evidence of the inexperience is literally written all over the body. The skin swells, the ink bleeds out, the lines are inconsistent in their depth, and there's clear signs of trauma to the skin that will undoubtedly result in a poorly-healed tattoo (and that's not even getting into the larger health risks such as contracting blood diseases due to a poorly kept space). It's not hard to see the difference between a bad tattoo and a tattoo that's intentionally bad.

It's the age old saying in a different medium - only once you learn the rules can you properly break them.

Rachel never learned these rules in her writing and it's evident to anyone who knows these rules and is viewing LO through a critical lens - or in my case, experiencing it on a week to week basis. It's a regularly occurring problem in the medium of webcomics as a whole - thinking that knowing how to draw is enough, and that writing comes dead last, if at all. When in reality, comics are a marriage of art and writing, you can't simply do one really well and allow the other to drag behind. That's not to say there aren't comics that succeed at having bad art and good writing, if anything a well-written comic can save bad art-

But if you have a comic with good art and bad writing, that's when a comic opens itself up to harsher criticism. As much as art may be the visual forefront of comics, if you want to keep your audience along for the long road that stretches ahead, you need to have a strong foundation in writing, or at least, enough of a plan to ensure you're not driving in the dark. The art can be as gorgeous as you want it to be, but if the plot is weak, then no one will have any reason to check back in week to week.

And such is Lore Olympus' biggest weakness. Much of what we praise LO for back in its first season was simply its foundation. It's very easy to praise a story's writing when it hasn't had to payoff what it's setup. Having ideas is easy, and early LO is rife with good ideas - but many of those ideas have since fallen flat, even the ones you wouldn't expect.

Ideas are a dime a dozen, but actually executing them in a way that can be engaging from start to finish and resolve itself in a way that's satisfying is a whole other challenge that many creators, including Rachel, find themselves unable to tackle; and nothing is a greater example of that than LO's third season, which is now fumbling its plotlines that have failed to resolve themselves properly after 5 years, while introducing new ones that serve as mere distractions, as if they were a laser pointer aimed at a cat.

I hear the argument, "LO is a better story if you binge read it" a lot, which - while I can certainly understand in today's culture of content that's churned out to be binged - I still fail to see how it actually makes LO a better story. Binge-reading LO doesn't remove the pointless plotlines. It doesn't fix its blatant timeline problems, its retcons, or its inability to stay focused on one topic for more than 5 panels. All it really fixes is the waiting, the ritualistic toiling over each and every cliffhanger that caps off the weekly episodes just for them to either be resolved in the next week or left behind with no in-between. And while having all that waiting removed certainly makes the reading experience a lot smoother, it doesn't make the story or its writing better.

The relationship between a story's writing and how the audience experiences it shouldn't be overlooked. Many stories depend on how the audience experiences it within the mind to succeed and leave an impression.

Junji Ito utilizes the dreaded page turn to scare his audience, an effect that can only be truly gained and appreciated if you read his books in traditional print.

Marvel spent years meticulously building up its Avengers franchise, culminating in a once-in-a-lifetime cinematic event through Avengers: Endgame, which is truly the epitome of "you had to be there", because if you watch Avengers: Endgame in 2024 in your living room, you're likely not going to experience the same level of hype as audiences experiencing it in the theater in 2019.

youtube

The same can be said for James' Cameron's Avatar, which entranced audiences with its innovative motion capture CGI and immersive 3D effects, an experience that could only be lived to the fullest if you saw it in 3D in IMAX theaters back in 2009. Without that experience, most people in 2024 find the movie to be pretty generic and uninteresting, a reverse Pocahontas with blue people in space, but when it first released in IMAX theaters in 2009, it was a cultural and technological phenomenon due to how advanced it was in its VFX. I can't even share with you clips of it, because obviously it would just be proving my point to try and show you how groundbreaking Avatar was in theaters through a bad shaky cam Youtube upload of its IMAX release on Youtube, but let's just say that it wasn't uncommon for people to brag about how many times they'd gone back to watch the same movie just to feel what they felt from the first showing all over again.

All that's to say that while Lore Olympus may offer a 'better' reading experience when binge-read - regardless of whether or not it actually helps the story's pacing problems - the reality is that LO is still being written exclusively with the weekly format in mind, and its been very much to its detriment, both in the short-term and in the long-term. Readers are often left in the dark on plotlines for weeks at a time, Rachel loses track of what she has and hasn't addressed, and the extended waiting times trick readers into believing that weeks have passed in the comic's story, when in reality it's only been a day or two, sometimes as little as hours depending on the sequence; meanwhile, if you binge episodes that had those problems in hindsight, you'll likely be a lot more quick to notice how many plot beats are either retconned or abandoned entirely, because you don't have the weekly waiting times artificially inflating the pacing of the story and causing you to forget what was established weeks before, because when binged, those weeks are reduced to hours and minutes.

And worst of all, with the assumption that you're reading on a weekly basis - as it wants you to do - Rachel tries to pull clever stunts by matching up LO's episodes with real life dates and holidays, which often just makes the story beats feel rushed or random in their execution - because to the vast majority of readers who haven't caught on to this or are reading the episodes through the physical books, they are rushed and random, and they can't exactly explain why.

Binging these episodes doesn't solve the problem, if anything it exemplifies them because, as a shining example, Hades and Persephone suddenly get married right in the middle of an ongoing issue, which isn't exactly the best time to wrap up the story's main plotline. Since then readers have become less and less interested in their story, and can you blame them? By all accounts their story is over. Everything now just feels tacked on to give them something to do in a story they no longer fit into.

There's an episode behind the FastPass lock right now, Episode 265. It unlocks for free on February 17th, three days after Valentine's Day. Guess what episode it is?

Ah yes, the episode where Hades' initiates sex without consent with his wife who's suffering from panic attacks, who also happens to be a rape victim. Happy Valentine's Day, everyone.

I actually made this particular discovery while writing this essay, so that was a very unwelcome surprise, but it explains the sudden random shift from Persephone being so stressed over the ongoing situation that she's passed out to Hades just deciding for the both of them that now's the time to have sex. As much as the fans will defend this as a husband and wife's last chance at intimacy before diving into a dangerous situation, they'll also still conveniently forget - just like the narrative and Rachel herself - that Persephone is a rape victim, and Hades initiating sex with her after nearly having a panic attack isn't exactly a good look.

This is why our theories as to when LO ends are so firmly cemented in one specific time range, because the story's pacing and distractions seem only intent in one thing - getting the story to last until spring, when the series will most likely conclude. It's basically been all but confirmed by Rachel, from her stating the series would be ending in early 2024, to Inklore - an imprint that seems designed specifically for Rachel and LO - launching officially in spring of this year, undoubtedly just in time for Rachel to wrap up LO for good.

(and boy, do I have some words about Inklore and its plans for "Rachel Smythe Presents", but that's another essay entirely.)

At the end of the day, LO's pacing is equivalent to paint drying on the wall, but it relentlessly convinces us to keep watching because the paint is blue and pink and maybe, maybe it'll turn into a piece of art. But as is evident in the comment sections of the newest episodes, even the fans are starting to realize that paint will not magically turn into the final piece of art they've been waiting to see if the hand that wields it doesn't know what it's doing.

Though style may be gained as an accidental side effect of one's influences and experiences, what Lore Olympus' intent is remains to be seen, and the longer the story goes on, the blurrier whatever intent it could have becomes. Unless it somehow manages to pull off a twist of Attack on Titan proportions that thoroughly explains and ties together the plotlines that have been left in the rearview mirror, the vehicle that is LO will continue to trudge along at a snail's pace, until it inevitably either crosses the finish line or crashes - but by that point, anyone waiting for it could very well be gone, their good faith left behind at the starting line when there was still plenty of time to change its trajectory or stop.

Such a time is long, long gone.

#lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical

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devildomwriter · 1 year

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Solomon’s True Goals

*MAJOR SPOILERS*

Solomon is often called shady, conniving, evil, arrogant, and many more things. But what is he really? Depending on the day he can be any of those things, but what it all boils down to is somewhat of a grand plan.

Solomon wants humans to be recognized as equals to demons and angels. He won’t choose either side, he chooses himself and humanity and he’s seen in the original game and in Nightbringer forcing that decision on MC, continuously asking to fight by his side on behalf of humanity.

But what does that mean? While Solomon says he does not want to make enemies out of angels and demons, he would be willing to go so far as a war.

In nightbringer he clearly believes that in the unstable past, a war between the worlds will indeed happen and considering he’s already fought a war with the entire Devildom—entirely on his own and in his youth—he’s not afraid to do so again, if need be. He continues pushing the idea onto MC that the demons are the enemies right now.

Here’s some evidence below

It’s interesting that he specifies NOT NOW as in, it’s possible later, or he has some plans for that

The something he referring to is a grimoire. Something that essentially controls demons and forces submission. Despite Solomon saying this is how they negotiate with demons, it’s clear he sees that it isn’t possible and they’ll need to be subjugated instead.

Again he clearly mentions fighting for equality. The human world is not being threatened by angels or demons but Solomon seems willing to start a fight to be recognized as equals.

Despite always asking for a pact, Solomon sees no problem purposefully emotionally blackmailing and provoking Lucifer, still mentally recovering from the Great War.

Once Solomon sees you as an enemy, then he will not hold back, no matter who you are. This many include MC which is why he keeps asking for a clear answer as to whether or not they’ll side with humanity.

We see Solomon mention, hating being seen as weak. Not just himself, but all of humanity. Not only that we see that the reason he prefers not to make enemies and to live freely is because of a deal with “Him” we don’t know who that is but possibilities include Present Barbatos, Michael, or even God (considering he has dealings with the latter two in texts and scripture)

We’ll see how this progresses but we are beginning to see more of why he is seen the way he is by the brothers. He is always planning something, processing everything, and plotting his next move to get what he wants—Humans at the same level of demons and angels, no matter the cost

#obey me nightbringer #obey me solomon #obey me Devildom #obey me human world #obey me celestial realm #obey me mc #obey me nightbringer chapter eleven #obey me barbatos #obey me michael #obey me lucifer #obey me thirteen #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me diavolo #obey me simeon #obey me explanation #obey me solomon and lucifer #obey me lucifer and solomon #obey me nightbringer chapter 11

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stomach-bugg09 · 1 year

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heyyy, could you maybe write a fic with the entire sully family x reader, where she is part of the metkayina clan, and after they get to stay she has to introduce the family to everything (instead of tsireya and aonung). They get closer and she’s a good friend to them.

She is very sweet, loves children and treats tuk like her own (this is a key element hihi)

So one day, after she goes out with tuk to entertain her, they get attacked by someone you can decide (I’m sorry but I need something angsty😭) and reader protects tuk and saves her life.

But, and here comes the “plot twist”, the sully’s misunderstand the situation and think reader did it on purpose or was trying to hurt tuk and they’re all angry and furious at her, not letting her explain.

So she retreats and doesn’t leave her marui pod for days, until someone from the clan clears it up, and they apologise to her… YOU CAN DECIDE THE ENDING, WETHER ITS HAPPY OR SAD!!!!

Thank u in advance and I have to say, I absolutely love your writing, every time I finish one of ur fics I crave moreeeee!!!❤️

summary: [y/n] saves the life of tuk, but at what cost?

a/n: hopefully this turned out good !! i’m kind of bad when it comes to misunderstanding trope because i kind of hate it ( whoopsies ) but i think it turned out okay ?? i’m just glad i finally was able to publish something after a few days. reblogs + feedback are always appreciated !!

tags: @rafeslovergirl@wxnderingthoughts @liyahsocorro @bonnibuckets @hjkshshjkhklhkl @itssiaaax @grierpilots @fleurbeass @nyotamalfoy @23victoria

warnings: mentions of blood, injury, fear, a monster-like creature pursuing tuk and [y/n], jake and neytiri being kind of mean, scars, almost dying, passing out, a lil angst, happyish ending

words: 2.4k

i would do it again

she hadn’t meant for it to go the way that it did. everytime she replayed the scene in her head, tears pricked [y/n]’s eyes. what could’ve happened—what should’ve happened. she continued to thank eywa that both her and tuk made it out alive and safe.

it’d been that morning when the youngest sully bounded up to [y/n] in the middle of her chores. “[y/n]!” she cried, joy evident in her voice.

[y/n] could not help but grin, looking up from the net that she was busy detangling. “good morning, darling tuk!”

the sully family had been in awa’atlu for several months at that point, but [y/n] had been friends with them since they first arrived. [y/n] was a former warrior of the clan, despite how young she was. she was only twenty years old, but after a former event resulting in a very severe injury, [y/n] was quickly deferred to a safer alternative that still allowed her to help her clan.

after the incident, [y/n] found herself working with the children. it was her job to begin teaching them the ways of the water, which included breathing, swimming, and free-diving. when they got to the age of learning to hunt, they were passed along to another teacher.

that was how [y/n] first met the sullys.

after tsireya and ao’nung toured the village with them, the future tsahik introduced them to [y/n]. “she will be helping us teach you our ways.”

and so she did. although her schedule was far too busy to always attend the lessons, [y/n] was there as much as she possibly could, rewarding each and every child on their progress.

[y/n] was also introduced to neytiri and jake sully by tonowari. the ole’eyktan was quick to tell them of her honorable history, especially regarding the injury. [y/n] didn’t miss the way the toruk makto’s sympathetic eyes flickered to the large scar that still burdened her up and down her right leg. but, for the first time in a long time, his careful stare did not cause her insecurity. instead, it made her feel safe, especially as she limped up and down the beach.

it did not take long for the sully family to entrust [y/n]. she was kind, caring, and she was always there to help them. a part of [y/n] drifted to the sully family once neytiri began treating her as if she was one of their own, often inviting her over for dinner.

for the first time in years, ever since the deaths of her parents, [y/n] felt like she had a true family again.

so, given their history, [y/n] was not at all shocked at the arrival of tuk on that sunny morning.

“[y/n]!” she yelled once again, stopping in front of the metkayina girl. “oh my eywa, [y/n],” tuk panted, hands clasping her knees as she caught her breath.

“oh, my!” [y/n] laughed, smiling up from where she sat on the dock. “what is the matter, dear?”

“it is so nice out today!”

[y/n] chuckled at that. “oh, isn’t it?” leave it to tuk to cause a panic only for her to exclaim that the weather was good.

“we should go out,” tuk decided, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she gave [y/n] a look.

[y/n] only raised the muscles above her eyes. “you think so?”

tuk nodded vigorously. “yes, i do! kiri is busy with mother, lo’ak wants nothing to do with me, and neteyam refuses to take me out ever.” once she finished her short rant, she stuck out her bottom lip and widened her eyes. “please, [y/n]?”

“tuk,” [y/n] groaned, covering her eyes with her hands. “that’s unfair. you’re too adorable to refuse!”

tuk grinned pridefully. “i know, isn’t it awesome?”

just like that, the two soon found themselves sharing a ride on an ilu through the reef. [y/n] smiled at the way tuk’s arms flew outwards, allowing her to reach out and feel the tingling sensation as they passed through the thick waters.

the coral was gorgeous that morning thanks to the rays of sunlight that beamed through the surface, lighting up the seafloor. “look,” [y/n] signed to tuk, pointing out a crab that waddled across the ground.

a chuckle left the sully’s lips as indicated by the small trail of bubbles that floated above them. [y/n] grinned at the way tuk raised her hand, waving at the small creature that strolled across the ocean floor.

of course, it could only stay perfect for so long, and unfortunately, the perfection did not last long enough.

[y/n] immediately felt something was wrong when the water turned the slightest bit colder. although the sully girl did not notice, the chills rising on [y/n]’s arms sent her panicking. when her ilu rumbled in dismay beneath them, she knew they needed to turn around.

“it is time to go back,” [y/n] signed quickly, the annoyance being difficult to ignore from behind her. before tuk could sign anything back, the older girl rose her hand and gestured for her to stay quiet.

just as she directed the ilu to turn around, [y/n] noticed how quiet it was. for once in her life, [y/n] could hear nothing. it was just them and the ocean.

the fish were gone, fleeing into their homes. the crab on the ground was quickly sheltered by his hole in the sand. not even the water swayed all that much. a chill settled deep in [y/n]’s bones.

she panicked at the feeling of tuk’s arms wrapping around her waist, the sully’s small face pressed into her back. it was when she felt tuk’s hand hit her that she was prompted to look up from where she observed the quiet reef.

[y/n] nearly choked on the salty water when the sight of large animal. it loomed overtop of them, a shadow cast on top of them from his mere size. it’s flippers were large, but not nearly as large as his teeth were.

although it was only split seconds, it felt like a billion years until either of them made their first move.

when the creature attempted to close the distance between them, [y/n] sent the ilu flying beneath the beast. she swallowed a yelp at the feeling of the water by her ear, his mouth nearly having chomped it off had they not moved so fast.

unfortunately, the monster was as smart as it was quick, and it was soon adjusting. with one last look over her shoulder, [y/n] sent the ilu shooting forward.

tuk’s arms clasped [y/n] desperately, her eyes hidden from reality due to the fear it brought. at that, [y/n] urged the creature they rode on to swim even faster.

as much as the ilu tried, it was nothing compared to the fins that carried the monster behind them. once [y/n] felt it catching up, the only thing she could think to do was unattached her queue from the ilu and grab tuk. as they rolled off the side, [y/n] choked back a scream at the sight of her ilu being swallowed by the beast in one quick gulp.

blood blossomed in the water. tuk stared aimlessly, her cries not going unheard. [y/n] grabbed her face, pressing a hand overtop her mouth. not only could the beast hear, but tuk was losing breath.

“hush, darling,” she signed, eyes attentive to their surroundings. “you must be quiet. it will all be okay, do you understand?” tuk only nodded.

they hid behind a large rock-like structure, and [y/n] carefully peeked out to catch an understanding of where they stood versus the beast. she instantly rolled back around, back pressed against the textured piece of nature. he was close. dangerously so.

and so, [y/n] began to hatch a plan. as she would swim out, tuk would start swimming towards the surface. [y/n] was a trained warrior and swimmer, she could outswim the monster if she used the coral to her advantage. tuk just had to get back to civilization.

just as she turned to tell tuk of her plan, it appeared that it was far too late. she only whimpered once she felt the cold temperatures of the shade once again.

[y/n] grabbed tuk’s hand, praying to eywa that tuk would stay strong and stay smart. at least one of them needed to make it out alive, and it had to be tuk.

with one last squeeze of her hand, [y/n] stood up and locked eyes with the creature. behind her back, her fingers moved gracefully to communicate to tuk.

once she was done, she brought her hands above her head, making herself seem bigger as a small attempt, although it was more of a signal to tuk. with her arms up, tuk launched herself out and up, and the beast launched itself directly at [y/n].

she dodged almost perfectly if it weren’t for the spikes that took over his skin. she hissed as her skin caught one of the thorns, flesh tearing quickly.

[y/n]’s plan was, unfortunately, not at all fool-proof. dread settled in her gut as the beast’s eyes broke away from her and instead watched the distance thanks to the sight of a swimming na’vi.

“no!” she tried to scream, although the words came out extremely muffled because of the quick water.

and so, she let every primal instinct she ever had take over.

[y/n]’d never swam so fast in her life. she let the water take over, let eywa bless her and her senses. for the first time in a couple years, she could not feel the injury of her leg. it was just her and the sea.

her eyes did not leave tuk once, not even when the swam side-by-side with the monster. not even when he nearly ate her. she was far too quick for him.

they were throat-to-throat, and yet, at the last second, [y/n] sped ahead of the beast and launched herself on top of tuk. she cradled the girl as the water seemed to burst in every direction.

and then she blacked out.

when [y/n] awoke, she found herself in the comforts of her own home. the sun blinked through the marui, a feeling that caused [y/n] to smile.

that smile was quickly gone once she remembered exactly what happened before she’d passed out.

when [y/n] shot up, tsireya was quick to attend her side. “[y/n]!” she calmed, voice quiet and gentle. “[y/n], it is okay. you are okay! you are safe.”

[y/n] couldn’t even form full sentences. “tuk.”

“tuk is alive and well. she’s been awake for an hour or so, waiting for you.” tsireya’s smile faded. “but.. the sullys are keeping her from visiting.

[y/n]’s eyes narrowed at the news, confusion clouding her head. “what? why?”

“they think you did it.”

days go by, and [y/n] was quiet. quieter than she has been in years, ever since her injury. ever since her parents death. the guilt was nearly the same, nearly just as heart-wrenching.

they did not trust her. they thought she would hurt tuk. the mere thought of it sent [y/n] spiralling.

the olo’eyktan’s family tried to visit her often, but she was cut off. even when they did somehow make it inside, she was dry, often not even answering them. it was as if she pretended they didn’t exist.

[y/n] didn’t look so good either. she was leaving her own health as the last of her priorities, as if they didn’t matter compared to the fact that they didn’t trust her.

it was only thanks to the trustful word of tsireya that the sullys finally had clear enough minds to come and visit.

it was a quiet night, the only sound heard being the crash of the waves against the shore. [y/n] was busy poking at the food ao’nung delivered just moments before. she couldn’t find an appetite to even attempt eating the food, despite what she promised him.

at the sound of two bodies walking into her pod, she jumped onto her feet. ever since the incident, she was on extremely high alert. even when she slept at night, all she saw were the jaws of that monster… and then the way that the sea exploded around her.

time froze when she saw the guilty faces of jake and neytiri.

“[y/n],” jake’s voice was quiet, broken. almost as bad as she felt. “[y/n], we are so sorry.”

[y/n] only blinked. “why?” she swallowed, putting her food down behind her before taking a step towards the couple. “why in the world should you be sorry? it was only like i risked my life for your daughter and you didn’t even have the kindness to come and talk to me.” she shook her head. “i had to hear it from tsireya that you hated me. you didn’t give me a chance.”

neytiri sniffled, eyes full of guilty tears. “we understand. and that is why we are here.” she attempts to step towards [y/n], but retracts when she feels the younger girl tense. with a quick sigh, she continues. “we were worried. worried about our baby. all we knew is that you washed up together, and tuk was hurt because of something out on the reef. you were the only one with her. and we just… we thought, since you knew the reef so well, there was no way you could have run into such trouble.”

[y/n] paused before shaking her head. “i don’t know what that monster was,” she whispered. “i have never seen such a ghastly thing in my life.”

jake nods. “we know. we know that now, and we should have never doubted you. for that, we are so extremely sorry, and we are so extremely thankful that you kept tuk alive.”

[y/n] paused. after the years she spent grappling for approval from everybody on the island, after gaining it through risking her life, this was the first time that she truly felt fulfillment.

when tears welled up in her eyes, she allowed the parents to hug her. at the warmth of their arms around her trembling body, she whispered, “i would do it again.”

#avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #neteyam sully #loak sully #sully family x reader #sully family x y/n #tuk sully #tuktirey #sully family #kiri sully #sullys stick together #sully siblings #metkayina #metkayina!reader #sully family x platonic!reader #jake sully x platonic!reader #neytiri x platonic!reader

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btoon-alba · 8 days

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✨Stardust✨

You know you truly love your characters when you create tons of art for them. 👀

But as an artist, of course, I never share the lore surrounding these characters AKBDKSNDNS

My inspiration for these two is basically a reimagining of a movie that no one liked. Yes, I’m talking about Wish.

The idea of a Star Boy and a romance captivated me more than the final product, as it did with many others. Wish is generally a disappointing movie but with a beautiful concept.

So, like many, I wanted to redesign the Star Boy. I tend to create character designs inspired by Pixar, with more striking and fantastical elements, so what emerged from the original concept was this charming little character whom we'll call Star.

The Star in my "reimagining" has a strong resemblance to Peter Pan in terms of personality; he's a bit stubborn and proud, embodying a kind of hero.

While going through the character creation process, I thought, "Wow! I love this design; it’s a shame it’s for a Wish redesign."

So, I decided to start from scratch.

Then, I introduced a second character named Stella, who would be the antagonist, as Star is the protagonist.

She has a simpler design because I wanted to focus more on the concept of the stars’ glow, making her body consist of pure light. (Also, Star is already difficult to animate lol )

Anyway! You may notice that she is incomplete in some way, I hope that makes sense..

As for the story, it’s essentially Star’s journey, a hero who was discharged from his duties, and in his search for something to do, he encounters Stella, a lonely star in the middle of the galaxy.

The two clearly fall in love as the story progresses, but I’ve never been a big fan of stories where the plot revolves solely around a couple. I want both characters to have deep psychological backgrounds.

"What is it that you wish for?"

For what I have planned for them, I've been compiling a playlist with various songs that help tell their stories.

One of these songs is the only one I consider redeemable from Wish, "At All at Costs", which greatly inspired the kind of love they would develop throughout the story.

My autism took me very far in this one Uh

#art #digital art #artists on tumblr #oc #wish 2023 #wish movie #starboy #star boy #wish asha #asha x star #starboy wish

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mikami · 4 months

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"Did Light love his family?" Anon - Catch-All Answer

Since these are six asks that are all about in the same vein, I am gonna just put the responses into one post for organization's sake.

Light begs his father to kill Mello because he wants his father's death to have been good for something. Nothing pains him more than the idea of having let this happen without it even accomplishing his goal.

Light is the physical manifestation of the lost cost fallacy: he needs to keep going because he sacrificed too much to stop and allow those sacrifices to be rendered meaningless.

And Light rationalizes. It's one of his most prominent character traits: instead of acknowledging his own emotions, he tries to filter his thoughts into nothing but emotionless pragmatism.

This is consistently portrayed through the 'hidden eyes' visual key - Light is excellent at lying to himself, in his own thoughts, which is why Obata gave us this clever way of seeing when this is happening even as Light's own internal monologue doesn't reflect it.

I have an incomplete list of these instances here, especially as pertaining to his family.

Ultimately, if we disagree that Light rationalizes his feelings rather than allowing himself to fully feel them, then none of my arguments are ever going to make sense to you and vice versa.

As a short addendum, here's Ohba's own words on this chapter (HTR13 p.80): "Even if there was acting involved in Light's tearful performance, I don't believe the tears are 100% an act." (もし月の涙に演技入っていたとしても、100%演技の涙では到底ないと思います。)

Soichiro already made the eye deal, which is an absolutely horrifying sacrifice to have made. Light wanted it to be as useful as it could possibly be, in order to justify the magnitude of the price.

I hate to say it, but you're really gonna have to take this one up with Ohba himself. On Page 65 of HTR13, he literally says that he picked Sayu as a kidnapping victim because Light loves his family and wouldn't kill her. (Unlike Misa, whom he would have just killed in this scenario rather than letting the plot progress.)

The panel you are thinking of is this one, where he is panicking, but you're not putting it into perspective.

In a previous chapter (62) Ide was about to inform the whole police force that Sayu Yagami was kidnapped. Soichiro was about to agree to this.

If Light had let this happen, he could have killed Sayu without narrowing down the suspect pool at all. They already know that Kira has ties to the police. He would have removed the leverage the mafia had held against them and gotten off entirely scott-free.

He does decidedly NOT do that. It's LIGHT personally who stops Ide from giving him the perfect alibi. EVEN RYUK CALLS OUT HOW ODD THAT WAS AS A MOVE.

And sure, Light says 'oh yeah, now nobody will suspect us!!' but nobody was really suspecting them to begin with.

This is what I mean - Light never allows himself to just feel things, he always rationalizes himself to justify his actions to himself.

His father dying. Dude.

.... literally why would he? Like, even if they don't accept Kira they also pose absolutely no threat to Kira.

I've covered all of this above, but I am including the ask to say that yes, I've seen it. The core issue here is that we disagree on Light's relationship to himself - you take his internal monologue at face value, while I think there is ample evidence that Light manipulates himself most of all. (As made completely manifest in the Yotsuba-Arc where he literally mindwipes himself into an incredibly emotionally and physically painful experience just to use himself as a pawn.)

#answers

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jean0farc · 3 months

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◤ 𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐄𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐥 ◥

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: eventual smut.

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Light Yagami X Reader.

𝖈𝖜: porn with plot, yandere! Light, office sex, boss/employee relationship, oral sex (you giving), dubcon, sexual tension, extreme power imbalance, power play, near death experience?

𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘:

Being a private investigator sure had its perks the moment you stepped into the workforce as someone with a degree in criminology. Sporting a tough front, you got used to being dealt with the risks of being killed and tracked down by unlawful criminals. That is, if you weren’t that careful with the information you disclosed about yourself.

But wait, you did NOT just step into the workforce and attained a job on a whim. This wasn’t just any ordinary job. You were blessed with the opportunity to work under none other than Kira’s company of employed investigators. You heard it right, you were offered the privilege of working under the world’s most powerful judges of all time. You didn’t just let the opportunity slip by, so you accepted the job and started working with dignity.

After months of blood and sweat poured out on the heavy workload your job as a data analyst carried, you received a promotion from your one and only boss — Kira. Surprised and intimidated, you suddenly receive a call from his personal assistant who requests you to meet Kira at his private office.

This news alone puts a smile on your face, but at what cost?

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: Shit’s about to get real hot. Just a heads up, the ending is sort of rushed since I haven’t written in a while. Hope this fic satiates your cravings for new content, and thanks for bearing with my absence.

The buildings towered tall as its windows began to light up the night sky in just a heartbeat. It was about 6:30 PM in the evening, and while every citizen in Japan was rushing on their way back home, you had agreed to work a night shift under Japan’s most powerful organization of policemen, inspectors, and detectives.

Anticipating your next meeting with another business partner, you sipped a cup of coffee as you silently typed on your laptop and replied to e-mails. As you sat on your personal desk, you received an e-mail from a superior asking you to work on writing a report listing the number of criminals executed by Kira. As much as you wanted to bid the day goodbye, you can’t help but feel glued to accomplishing everything your job required in one sitting. You chugged your drink while contemplating on responding, your eyes focused on the laptop’s screen as you composed a message to your superior.

Much to your shock, your phone rang. You grabbed the phone without question and spoke through it.

“Hello? Who could this be?”

“This is Matsuda speaking.” a voice replied on the other end. “I’ve called to inform you that the records team of our organization has evaluated your progress in the company lately.”

“Oh? Is there a problem with the way with my work ethic, sir?” you asked, frowning in disbelief.

“No, no,” Matsuda let out a laugh as he stammered. “In fact, your work ethic is far from a problem. I called simply to notify you of good news. And I want you to listen carefully.”

“Sure thing.” you replied.

“The boss has made his final judgment on who he chose to promote to a higher position in our organization. As his personal assistant, I am pleased to announce that our future private investigator and detective-in-charge ....is you.”

“Wait, no way?!” you exclaimed, placing a hand over your mouth as your eyes widened in shock. “Is this…is this actually true, sir?”

“Sure is! The boss wishes to have a word with you tonight in his private office. At least, before the day you get recognized by our company’s fellow employees. Please be there at—”

“The….boss?” you paused. “B-but—”

“It’s a really urgent and important meeting to celebrate your success, [Name]. If I were you, I wouldn’t let this opportunity slip by.” Matsuda interjected. “Please drop by his office at 8:00 sharp. And remember to bring nothing with you.”

“B-but….wait!!! Matsuda!!”

The phone hung up, leaving you confused and lost at what you had to do next. Is it more convenient to issue a report due the following day and communicate with your company’s business partner, or should you reject your superior’s request and meet up with your boss? Decisions, decisions.

After minutes of overanalyzing your current situation, you texted everyone necessary for the meeting to ensue, stating you couldn’t make it due to an “urgent task.” You always felt guilty about having to turn down assignments from your superiors; however, the boss’ words were where it’s at, and you had to keep in mind that his plans were far more significant than what you were being bossed around to do by underlings.

You then made a decision to request a delay in submitting the necessary paperwork due to sudden change of plans. You typed carefully, ensuring that your refusal to accomplish the reports were in good faith and harbored no ill intent. To your satisfaction, you waited an hour before you could finally take an elevator to the top floor.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Sweat dripped across your cheek as you anxiously waited fifteen minutes in advance. Something about your boss always fascinated, yet terrified you to an extent. His ability to hold the world’s most heinous criminals futile in his grasp and giving them a heart attack out of the blue (whether he had some sort of weapon or not) always remained a mystery to you. Yet, it so happens that you opted for the highest position in every area of your expertise. Not for power, not for personal gain, whatsoever. It was because you had a strong sense of justice, believing every problem deserves a solution. You truly cared for victims who fell prey under the hands of wrongful acts.

I guess that’s what set the both of you apart. The boss had his own ways of bringing justice to the table — and as a mere employee, you tried your very best to not doubt, question, or underestimate his abilities. You always reminded yourself to not fear authority, but rather, embrace it. But this time, knowing his eyes were set upon you made you shiver. It was his power, his prestige, that frightened you.

If knowing how he killed unlawful individuals was a game of curiosity killing a cat, you could’ve been lured into death this quickly. It wasn’t like you had any objections about how he chooses to kill, though. But you itched for a logical and concrete explanation on how he did it. You wanted evidence. You wanted a scenario. After all, you worked as a private investigator.

Checking your watch, the clock struck 7:45. You braced yourself, took a deep breath, and went for the exit of your office. As you stepped into the hallway, you were greeted with a colleague who smiled upon noticing you.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t our employee of the year!” the woman smiled. “Congratulations!”

“Thanks,” you replied. “It’s been a while. Well, I’m off now.”

“Wait!” she exclaimed. “Is the boss…..actually there to meet you?”

“Yes, why?” you asked.

“Oh, um…..it’s just because I observed that Sir Fujisaki…..uh, how do I put this? He had a heart attack the past week. I happened to see you two the other day, and he was perhaps being too friendly with you from my observation.”

“Mr. Fujisaki?! But he was such a sweetheart to me the other day!” your smile dropped. “Yes, he may have been too friendly, but how could he have a heart attack? Could this be….”

“Is it who you think it is?” your colleague asked. “Well, in that case, we need to stay silent. We can’t just falsely accuse our boss of actually killing Mr. Fujisaki, am I right? Perhaps we can talk to him about it?”

“Yumi….the boss almost never shows himself.” you sighed. “And if he heard what we were talking about just now, he’d have us in dead meat.”

“Right….but do take my guess with a grain of salt.” your colleague smiled. “I’d hate to blackmail the boss.”

“True.” you agreed. “Anyways, nice chatting with you! Gotta get back to work!”

“Sure thing!”

Ending your conversation, you walked towards the elevator and ensured you brought nothing with you. As it led all the way up, you practiced a simple smile at the mirror, fixing your office wear and arranging yourself to look presentable in front of your employer. As the doors opened, you made your way through the boss’ quarters, shaky and overwhelmed. You didn’t win any promotion at your previous job, so it was truly miraculous to actually land a decent position in your current career.

The doors were made of tinted glass while the floors were covered with red carpet. The hallways were lined with some vases and expensive furniture, making it comfy to sit on the velvet purple couches. One could have mistaken this floor to be that of a luxury hotel, the way all the lighting radiated a warm, golden tint. There were also paintings of what was known as a ‘shinigami’ in Japanese folklore, with some religious figures resembled in the images. So far, so good.

However, this was not the time to dwell on the floor’s aesthetically pleasing interior design—you had a meeting. An urgent one at that.

Pushing the glass door open, you were met with a lingering smell of musk, the fragrance entering your nostrils with its strong, manly scent. To your surprise, the quarters were dimly lit, which isn’t exactly what you’ve expected it to be. Normally, an employer’s corner would have vibrant lighting to enable productivity, but this time was a different story. The ambience of your boss’ room was rather eerie, lights flickering as a fragile candlelight would. But you paid it no mind, you just moved on and cleared your intrusive thoughts.

As you strolled closer to the main area, you knocked on the wooden door leading to the actual office of your boss.

“Come in.”

The room was filled with flickering lights as well, much to your disbelief. The office may look professional and minimalistic in terms of its design, but the way it was private and hidden within another glass door made you feel quite….uneasy. It was your first time visiting his office.

The creaks echoed as you were met with the gaze of your boss already setting his eyes upon you. His glare was sharp, yet smugly impressed by the looks of it. Your defenses were now broken down and torn to shreds, leaving you with no other choice but to actually face the brunette right in front of you.

“Ah, if it isn’t our employee of the year, [Name].” your boss, Kira, greeted you. “Have a seat.”

Obeying immediately, you eased yourself into the room’s air, trying to brush off the awkward silence that penetrated deep into your being. As he browsed through your documents, you felt your legs shake as you shamefully placed your hands near your thighs, trying to calm yourself from his presence. His authority always intimidated you. Browsing through your reports, you could hear the sounds of pages flipping as your eyes began to meet his stern gaze towards the document. You could spot your own name on the write-up, which confirms his assessment of your performance on the spot. You waited patiently for feedback.

“Hmmm…..” Kira hummed. “Very well.”

Your eyes widened, anticipating his next words.

Putting down the paper you wrote, he averted his gaze upon you on eye level. Without hesitation, he spoke.

“I’ve called Matsuda to inform you of your success in this industry, am I right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now, come here.” Kira spoke.

“Huh?”

“Next to me.”

You tried to stand up, only for your legs to wobble. You fell back on your seat, only to earn a laugh from your boss.

“There, there. No need to grow anxious. I just have something to clarify.”

As you slowly stood up once more, Kira beckoned a finger ushering you beside him.

“Tell me, [Name].” Kira asked as he looked up at your standing figure and placed a hand around your waist. You were surprised at his touch. Wishing to let go, the warmth lured you for more, but you dismissed it as an unintentional gesture. “What do you mean by these statements?”

Kira looked down at the report you wrote, pointing at significant sentences in it that stood out amongst every line of text. Lending the paper to you for further inspection, you received it reluctantly.

“That being said, to truly bring justice into life is to recognize that your intentions should not be for the sake of taking control, but out of sincere care for the people that surround us. I believe that by incorporating this as a motto to live by, we can become akin to what we call the ‘god of a new world.’”

“Oh, it’s my take on how to govern a society properly, good sir.” you replied.

“Fair point.” Kira nodded as his eyes narrowed at you condescendingly. “And what makes you think you can claim that title as your own, [Name]?”

“Oh, that’s not what I meant, good sir,” you panicked, growing more confused as to whether he was impressed or disappointed with your report’s content. “I meant that, IF we truly treated justice as something that should be mutually beneficial towards ourselves and the people around us…..instead of flaunting our sense of justice out of personal satisfaction…..we can….we can become a God of the New World.”

Kira chuckled lowly as he let go of your waist and stood up next to you. Meeting you from a close proximity, you tried taking steps backward in order to avoid his predatory gaze. You also took note of a small detail in his eyes; his pupils glinted a faint red, which threw you off immediately from your awkwardness.

“Now, now….” he smirked. “No running away.”

“Kira……what is it that you called me here for?”

“I was hoping we could have a civil meeting right here and now.” he continued as he crossed his arms. “Normally, I fire people who usually include blasphemous remarks in their reports.”

You felt a pang of guilt rush within your veins, worried and fretting that you may have done something wrong.

“However, it is worth noting that your loyalty and competence in this line of work are far too commendable for me to actually expel you from my company.”

You didn’t know what to feel about that statement.

“Here’s another thing I want to clarify.” Kira announced, taking the copy of your report into his hands and reading your essay aloud.

“However, there are certain rules that seem to almost break as we investigate the surge of people having heart attacks in Japan recently. If we find whatever is responsible for magically killing these heinous criminals, we will hold the suspect accountable and might as well imprison them.”

“Sir, that is my perspective on the news recently. There has been a couple of innocent people killed, like Mr. Fujisaki.”

Kira frowned. “Who entrusted you with this information, [Name]?”

“It’s…..just out of my pure observation, Sir.” you replied.

Kira let out a sigh as he closed his eyes. “Rather than getting angry, I’m going to move past your recent remarks on the assignments given to you.”

“Did I….do something wrong, sir Kira?” you asked out of the blue..

“Not necessarily,” he replied. “However, I’m going to ask you another question. Make sure to answer carefully and honestly. If you fail to convince me otherwise with your response, I have no other choice but to fire you.”

“But sir???” you asked, your eyes widening in shock as you were about to protest. “But…. but I thought I was about to be rewarded with a promotion?”

“As I said, you’re an exception to all those lowly employees out there.” Kira spoke, taking a few steps forward. “I was thinking of giving you a raise and a promotion, BUT I need to clear out some possible misinterpretations people may have about your work.”

“I see. I’m sorry.”

“Now, let’s get back to the topic at hand, shall we?” Kira announced. “You state in your report that showing sincere care towards people depicts true justice. However, that is not my problem. My issue here is that you go around, stating that doing so will make you the God Of A New World. What interesting wording. Let me ask you a question about that. Who do you think I am?”

Goosebumps were the only thing you felt as you found his question to be a threat. You couldn’t tell how he was feeling right now — was he furious? Annoyed? Offended?

“Well, I think you’re a fairly intelligent disciplinarian who aims to get things done.” you replied as you gulped in fear.

“To get things done, eh?” Kira followed up with a smug grin. “What kind of things do I aim to get done? Elaborate.”

“Um…..uh….the way you…..target potential criminals and have them accountable for the rotten things they’ve done.”

“I see.” Kira sighed. “I’m going to ask you a follow-up question. Do you look down on all these mere underlings and consider how many of them are envious of your position?”

“I do.” you replied. “In fact, I feel grateful I have a roof above my head thanks to this company.”

“Gratefulness, hm?” Kira hummed. “You don’t seem to possess that quality, I’m afraid.”

“How so, sir?”

“If you were truly grateful for what this company has given you, you’d show a bit of humility in the content of your assignments and missions. Something which I fail to see in you. You tend to claim on how there are still errors in my ways, questioning my authority like I lack the qualities a God Of A New World has.”

“Sir, I wasn’t—“

“Not only that, but you truly have the audacity to actually think you can overthrow my position.”

“But sir, that was not my intention—“

“Shut it.” Kira snapped. “Now tell me, what are the exact actions I get done that further catches your attention? What makes it stand out? Describe everything you’ve been observing in thorough detail.”

“It’s just that…..you….you…..!!!!”

“Hm?”

“You may or may not have killed Mr. Fujisaki!” you cried out. “If our objective was to rid the world of heinous criminals, then why are innocent colleagues dying in your hands?”

“May or may not? There you go again with your uncertainty.” Kira sighed. “Do you have any evidence to support your claims?”

“Well…..I heard from a colleague that you may have had a notebook? I’m not sure…..”

“A notebook, huh?” Kira smirked. “What makes you think I possess a notebook that can possibly kill an innocent fool?”

“It’s everywhere, sir. There were rumors.”

“As usual, basing your conclusions on mere accusations and speculation.” Kira sneered condescendingly. “How pathetic.”

“Listen, please, I’m…..really sorry, sir.” you spoke. “I thought this was good news, but, since I may have offended you for what I’ve written……I would like to apologize if I ever—“

“You haven’t answered my first question.” Kira interrupted, cutting you off. “Who do you think I am?”

“You’re……you’re….”

“Spit it out!”

“You’re….you’re the God of the New World.”

“See, it wasn’t that hard, was it? You’re making things more difficult for yourself.”

“No, I—“

“Come here.” Kira beckoned his finger once more.

“But sir, I have an urgent meeting at—“

“Cancel them.” Kira scoffed. “In fact, cancel all your meetings for tonight’s shift.”

“I’m…..I’m sorry? I can’t just—“

“Cancel them!” he snapped. “In fact, cancel all of your meetings for today.”

“Sir?” you asked innocently. “I’m sorry but—”

“Come here.”

Hesitantly complying with his request, you approached him as instructed.

“Next to me.”

Kira grabbed you by the waist, your efforts to let him go rendered futile.

“Um, sir? Let go, please….”

“I like you, [Name]. Of all the times you’ve been working in this company, you should be grateful I wasn’t contemplating on letting you go any longer ....”

“Sir, let go, I have—“

“While we’re at it, I have something to show you.”

You fell silent, not knowing what to do or say given the situation.

“On your knees.”

“What? But—“

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Complying with his request, you got down on one knee, trying to adjust your position gently so as to not hurt your kneecaps being latched onto the floor.

“There’s a black notebook on the shelves under my desk. Give it to me.”

You knew this was coming. So the rumors were true, right?

You spotted a peculiar notebook from the bottom shelves behind his chair, picking it up. A Death Note? What was that about?

“Give it to me.”

You lent the notebook up to Kira. As he got the notebook, you already had a clear assumption of what he used it for. Listing down the names of criminals and other people he deemed “rotten” to his eyes. Some colleagues spread a rumor saying he had the power to kill anyone with it provided you play by the notebook’s rules, and turns out, it may be true.

You attempted to stand back up, only for him to stop you by resting his hand on your right shoulder.

“No.”

“But sir—“

“Under the desk.” he commanded.

“Huh? But why?”

“I personally think you owe me something.” Kira smirked. “Based on your current record of writing such exceptional, yet blasphemous remarks on the assignments I’ve given you, there’s no way you shouldn’t be held accountable for these things.”

You could only listen in terror as his hand rested upon his crotch, gripping it tightly without causing much pressure. He let out a deep sigh.

“Yes, the rumors are right.” Kira announced as he let go of the hand between his legs and took a ballpen from the stand beside the paperwork on the table. “I killed Mr. Fujisaki. Happy?”

“No…..Mr. Fujisaki was a nice man. He’d never commit a crime, let alone hurt someone intentionally. You killed someone innocent….”

“I kill whoever gets in my way.” Kira replied as he let his left hand rest on your head. “And he specifically got in mine.”

“How?” you asked.

“He kissed you. You weren’t his to kiss.”

“…..And just like that? Kira, you have no idea how he—“

“Not only did he kiss you, but he so happens to take what’s rightfully mine!”

“I’m not yours, you freak!” you cried as you attempted to stand up on one knee, only for him to lift his shoe up your chin.

“You’re not going anywhere.” Kira replied, a smug expression displaying through his face. “How do I put this, [Name]? As your boss, you must know that I am in charge of the rules here, and that whatever I say goes. That, of course, goes for who my underlings connect with.”

“Wrong.” you asserted. “Mr. Fujisaki was a good colleague. He didn’t deserve to die. You’re just disturbed.”

“And he didn’t deserve to kiss you. I’m not disturbed, I just know what I want.” Kira said as he used his shoe to tilt your chin up. “And I want you.”

You felt bewildered and frightened at his remarks, your legs shaking as your senses heightened. You could feel his predatory gaze cornering you as it glowed a bright red. He surely wasn’t at his normal, innocent and charismatic self that he presented to the public. Beneath this facade was something sinister, something with malicious intent. Following his look upon your writhing figure, his musky cologne wafted through your nostrils from distance.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I have to pa—“

“Ah, ah, ah. There’s absolutely no way you can object, right? Not when I have your first name written down in my Death Note.”

You gasped in shock.

“No, no, please!!! I’ll do anything, just please, don’t kill me!!!”

Amused and chuckling at your pleading expression, Kira laughed, looking away.

“So, [Name], what’s it gonna be? Are you going to give in to my desires of having you around? Know that I’m not a patient man.”

Without hesitation, Kira scribbled down two more letters of your last name, then stopped at the sight of your face begging for your life to be spared.

“N-NO!!! STOP!!!” you screamed, violently grabbing Kira’s arm and getting it out of the table.

“You’re really adorable, you know that?” Kira laughed. “Fine. I’ll spare your life. On one condition.”

You paused, not knowing what to say next. Kira readjusted his position, leaning closer to you.

“Let’s start with the basics, shall we? Since you’ve said so yourself that I’m the God of the New World, why not prove to me how much of a loyal underling you can be?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t know what you exactly meant—“

“Oh shut up.” Kira replied, slowly unzipping his pants as you could only stare in horror. “You’re going to take me as far as I could let you. And you’re going to be a good little servant for me, yes?”

You cleared your throat, nodding while giving a light yes.

“That being said, go on, take it out.”

The way he sounded made you feel anxious, not knowing how things would go afterwards. Regardless, you eyed the sight between his legs, closing your eyes as you took in a deep breath. You felt your hands reach for the zipper of his tented pants, slowly pulling it down and earning a sigh of frustration from your boss. It was obvious that he grew impatient, so you hurriedly reached inside the unzipped fabric, taking his cock out. It wasn’t fully hard yet, but you could see beads of precum leaking from the slit.

The next thing you did was reach out for his balls, pull them out, eyeing his length with reluctance and fear.

“Hmph.”

You heard sounds of scribbling which caused you to hurry the fuck up. Curious to see how far you can take it, you didn’t want to overwhelm yourself and gag at the feeling of his length shoved down your throat. Worst case scenario was you throwing up at it, and you knew he wouldn’t like that. So you took baby steps, sticking your tongue out and having it swirl around the head. You used your fingers to rub gently at the tip after letting go, then circling your tongue around it before taking it raw into your mouth. Your head bobbed up and down as you gave it around ten seconds before going down by at least two inches.

“See? It wasn’t so hard, was it?” Kira sneered as he laughed loudly. “You take me so well it would be a shame if I didn’t choose you.”

You didn’t respond, instead, you moaned around the length in arousal, your suckled growing rougher as you felt a hand grab you by the roots of your hair. So this was how it felt to be under the presence of a God—never his equal, but always by his company. Before you could even pull away, he pushed your face inward, your throat finding the urge to release a sputtering gag. You tried fighting over your gag reflex by focusing your mind over matter, holding your breath to suppress the urge to breathe. You let out a cough upon the release of your head from inward, leading Kira to “tsk, tsk” his way through.

He let go of you, which made you pull away quickly. You caught your breath, panting as you tried another take in deepthroating his throbbing length. You felt it harden, which gave you some sort of gratification and guilt, putting your lips together and diving right in. This time with your hands on, you twisted it while giving him head which was enough to earn a guttural grown from Kira, cursing to himself while they stifled the soundproof walls.

You began liking how it felt to pleasure your boss, your head twirling around to match the rhythm of your hands twisting altogether.

“Mmmm……that’s good…..” he moaned as you continued bobbing your head around, the lewd noises enough to stimulate his length as if something was about to pop. As his hand tried to write another letter of your last name, his hands grew shaky as he could barely contain himself. He chuckled while you sucked roughly.

“You know you’re not getting away with replacing me this time, are you?” he cooed and sneered like a hungry wolf.

You felt tears well up in your eyes as you kept sucking back and forth. All you could muster was a desperate nod, feeling a strange moisture form in your underwear.

“I’ll ask you one more time. Who do you think I am?” Kira asked.

Your muffled voice filled your wet mouth. A fistful of your hair got pulled, causing you to withdraw from his throbbing length with a string of saliva connecting from your lips and his cock’s head.

“You’re God.”

“That’s better. Now, back to work.”

But it wasn’t over yet, or so you thought. You returned to what you were doing, sucking his length and all.

“A little eager, are we?” cooed Kira. “Go on. Pleasure me like your life depends on it.”

You grabbed his length once more and darted to his balls, kissing and rubbing it gently with one hand. You suckled harder which was enough to make Kira throw his head back, hands pushing your head down until he couldn’t get enough of your performance.

As he got closer, you left a huge pop as your mouth left his balls, returning to his length and continuing to suck as the sounds grew sloppier.

“Shit….” Kira hissed. Grabbing a fistful of your hair, he sped up the pace as he grew bored of your normal, slightly slower pacing. You took this as a sign to bob your head faster, the job growing rougher as you looked up at him with doe eyes. Upon coating the length with your mouth’s saliva, you jerked him off while his eyes glinted towards your pathetic, desperate figure.

Without warning, Kira held your head sturdily and stopped you mid-head as ropes of cum spurted from his cock’s slit, filling your mouth with drenched discharge. You looked up with your mouth dripping with his slick and sticking your tongue out as he squeezed out more ropes of cum into your mouth. You licked your lips, feeling a moisture well up between your legs as you felt yourself grow increasingly aroused towards the sight of his length. You knew everything was over, until…

“Swallow.”

Doing as he instructed, you gulped as you pulled away.

“You did well.” Kira announced. “That being said, I think I’ll have to give you a raise. Not for this, but because I think your efforts for writing this report have been put to shame by your obedience.”

Kira wiped his dick with a handkerchief nearby, tucking it back into his pants.

“I better get going.” you said, getting up and attempting to unlock the door.

“No. Stay.” Kira commanded. “Spend the night.”

“Huh? Are we….sleeping here?” you asked.

“No, you idiot.” Kira replied. “I’m taking you home as a means of rewarding you. Trust me. It’s dangerous to be left alone during the night.”

“But, sir, I’m already used to—“

“Fix yourself up. You look pathetic.”

“Fine.” you agreed.

Wiping your cum-soaked mouth off, you walked towards the sofa and checked on your belongings. Making sure your files were complete, you proceeded to sit down.

You got promoted, alright, but at what cost?

#light yagami x reader #yandere x reader #x reader #fanfiction #death note x reader #yagami light #yagami light x reader #light yagami #death note #smut

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cosmerelists · 5 months

Text

Kelsier and Taravangian Have A Conversation

Inspired by these two being compared in Kelsier's Coppermind entry.

[Contains major spoilers for Mistborn and Stormlight Archive!]

Kelsier: So, you're a king, huh?

Kelsier: Exactly the sort of person I'd assassinate, back in the day.

Taravangian: Yes, those in power can rarely be trusted.

Taravangian: In my case, I do, uh, run a large-scale hospital that welcomes all.

Kelsier: Knowing what nobles are like, it's probably a front to hide some sort of greater crime.

Taravangian: Ha, ha, yeah! I actually use it as a front to kill people in order to obtain the prophecies delivered by the dying, hoping to piece together enough clues to save the world. It's one of the only reliable ways to obtain reliable information about the world's fate.

Taravangian: You know how it is. Somebody has to be willing to do whatever it takes to save humanity, no matter the cost.

Kelsier: Damn it.

Taravangian: Hmmm?

Kelsier: I hate it when the worst person I know makes a good point.

Taravangian: Oh? That's not usually the reaction I get.

Taravangian: Usually it's something more like "Oh my dear god you monster why"

Kelsier: Well sure. That's a perfectly normal reaction.

Kelsier: Which is why it takes people like us to actually save the world.

Kelsier: I sacrificed myself and had a friend eat my bones to create a mystical religion and overthrow an immortal god-king.

Taravangian: How did eating your bones help?

Kelsier: Oh, it was a kandra. They can ingest bones and then reconstruct the original body.

Kelsier: Is that really the first question you had, though?

Taravangian: I mean, dramatic martyrdom that spawns a religion in order to manipulate the masses seems pretty straight-forward.

Kelsier: ...It took a lot of planning, you know.

Taravangian: Well, but that's the fun part, isn't it?

Taravangian: I may be damning my own soul, but storms if it isn't fun to lay out an extravagant plot every now and again.

Taravangian: My Diagram was written over the walls and floors of an entire room!

Taravangian: Good times.

Kelsier: Unhinged scrawls on a wall? Seems like a hard sell for your crew.

Taravangian: Bah! If people are put off by genius that spills off the page, then you need better men.

Kelsier: With all sincerity--I could not have had better men.

Kelsier: Take Spook. He started off as a just a scrawny skaa, but in the end, he was in charge of an empire with me as a his ghost advisor, and we made great progress in hemalurgy.

Kelsier: Speaking of doing whatever it takes.

Taravangian: I'm not familiar with 'hemalurgy.'

Kelsier: Oh, you'd like it. You can take investiture from people using special spikes. It kills them, of course, but the power does not die with them.

Kelsier: I think it's probably gonna save the world. My world, at least.

Taravangian: You know, I hadn't wanted to ask about the spike in your eye since it seemed impolite, but...

Kelsier: Yup. Hemalurgy.

Taravangian: Fascinating! I wonder if it would work for my world too.

Kelsier: Probably! If my agents on your world ever get their shit together, maybe we'll find out.

Taravangian: ...You have agents on my world?

Kelsier: Well, yeah. What, are you not out into the wider Cosmere yet?

Taravangian: Look, I only just became a god. I'll get there!

Kelsier: Well, I can't wait to battle with you for supremacy in the hope of sacrificing your world to save mine.

Taravangian: Aw, thanks! Right back at you.

Kelsier: We'll probably need to deal with that bastard Hoid first, though.

Taravangian: Eh, he's not so bad if you have the power to delete his memory.

Kelsier: You...got one over on Hoid?

Kelsier: Could this be...love?

Taravangian: No, I think it's just the warm glow of something bad happening to Hoid.

Kelsier: Yeah, that must be it.

#cosmere #cosmerelists #Kelsier #Taravangian #Hoid

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italeean · 11 months

Text

Endurance training

You can find the plot here

A/N: Hiiiii!! Guys you have NO IDEA of how excited I am for this fic... like, an x reader??? WITH MY HUSBAND?!!!! Anon, chiunque tu sia, ti amo 💚🤍❤️ (Anon, whoever you are, I love you). I hope you all enjoy this work, suggestions and support are always appreciated 🌸 Happy July everyone!!

DISCLAIMER: This is a tickle fic, if it's not to your taste, I don't suggest you read it

Every day just felt the same: waking up at 4 AM, going on a run, shower, light breakfast, training, lunch, more training, dinner and sleep. That was the merciless routine y/n has had ever since they decided to join the Fatui ranks as a recruit. And the worst part was him.

Tartaglia, Childe, the 11th Harbinger and also their direct superior. He was the Harbinger responsible for their training, and y/n was destined to be one of his soldiers, under his command. If they wanted to have a future as something more than a simple soldier, they needed to make themselves known, they needed to be bold and daring if they wanted to impress him.

But how do you impress someone who's so fearless and self-confident that he fights with the weapon he has most trouble using?! (And he's also a pro at it)

The answer was completely unknown to them. They just knew they needed to make him notice them and see their potential. Because they had potential... right..? There was no time to be insecure, they had the skills and the desire to learn and reach higher and higher goals.

That's why they trained almost to exhaustion, paying attention not to burn themselves out to avoid missing out on important training session just because their body was too strained to even get up, and eventually their work paid off because the Harbinger decided to follow their progress with special attention, which included private combat lessons after the regular training with all the other recruits.

The two of them got closer with time, and y/n slowly got used to Childe's reckless and sometimes flirty personality. He was brilliant when it came to combat skills, although he had some lacunae in the topic of strategizing, but they saw him as a model anyway, and they strived to impress him.

However, they felt like they lacked something in their style. Their shape was perfect, their movements were fluid, their reflexes were quick... and still, the Harbinger always took them down in any kind of combat with any kind of weapon without even breaking a sweat during their training sessions.

"You're too rigid," He always told her "you should try to have more fun. Be bold, unpredictable. You're always on the defensive so your style gets predictable in the long run." Those words stung a little, but y/n knew he was right... they had to be more daring, even at the cost of making mistakes.

They quickly got up and charged at the Harbinger with the intent of tackling him to the ground... only to find their hands blocked before they could even register what was happening.

Childe was standing in front of them with his usual smug smile. "That's already much better, although we'll need to work on your speed. Now, if you manage to grab your opponents hands like I did with you, you have many possibilities." He got both y/n's hands into one of his own, "Like a headbutt, a kick to make the opponent fall and bring the fight to the ground, or you can assess a punch to the stomach, right here..."

His free hand darted to the mentee's belly to show them the exact spot to hit... but when he poked the area, he was surprised by the startled yelp that left y/n's lips. "Oh? Is there something wrong? Did it hurt? It wasn't supposed to hurt... did you strain a muscle? You've been doing the stretching routine I gave you, right?" He looked at them with a worried but stern look on his face as he let go of their hands.

"Of course I did!" Y/n replied quickly "It didn't actually hurt... it just... umm... startled me! Anyway... I'm starting to feel fatigued now, I think it's better to do the stretching and wrap things up here for today..."

Childe nodded and smiled "It's good that you're learning to understand the signals of your body, it can save your life in battle... unless you're me, in that case, fatigue isn't a thing for me." He boasted playfully and started to leave, letting y/n do the stretching on their own. Y/n breathed a sigh of relief... luckily he had bought her excuse.

'Who do they think they're kidding?' Tartaglia thought to himself. And he was right, who did they think they were kidding? He was a big brother, he could detect a lie from a mile, especially when it came to being ticklish.

The following day, the morning training went as usual, but when they headed to the training arena in the evening, a little surprise awaited them. The Harbinger was standing there with a mischievous, almost ominous smirk on his face.

"Today we'll have a special training session to improve your stamina and strength." He began "It's very effective, and I can guarantee you that you'll feel loosened up after I'm done wi- I mean, after we're done." He chuckled, cooing internally at y/n's confused expression.

He gave them a wooden stick, "You'll have to keep it raised above your head for as long as you can." He told them. The instructions were simple enough, and the mentee did immediately as they were told, although they found that training unexpectedly easy... almost excessively simple.

"Umm... shall we pass to something heavier..?" They asked perplexed after a couple of minutes. "Don't be cocky now, you're about to find out how hard this exercise can get..." He got closer to them, cracking his knuckles.

Y/n gulped at the thought of what was about to happen, because they didn't know. Probably not even the Tsartitsa herself knew how ruthless the training to become a Fatuus could get. They had to keep their guard high, be ready for the worst...

But they weren't ready for the storm of pokes that descended on their torso, making them yelp and squirm and jump left and right. "Wha- aaaahhehehehe w-whahat are yohou doiiing???" "Oh can't you tell by yourself? I'm tickling you!! I'm sure it has happened to you before! Now you better keep that stick up~" He teased as his hands went to town all over their poor tummy, toned by all those days of training.

"Hahahahaha h-hohohow dihihid yohou-"

"How did I know? Dear, I'm an older brother... did you really thought you had fooled me with your little act and your little excuse?" He chuckled as he poked y/n's abs and pinched their sides. "Now, don't you think you deserve this also as a punishment for lying to me, your superior AND your dear mentor?"

"Nooooohohoho thihihis ihihisn't fahahahair!!" The mentee complained as they succumbed to the giggles.

"This is endurance training, it isn't supposed to be fair. Now gather up and endure, that stick is shaking too much." He latched onto their ribs with both hands, enjoying the shriek that left y/n's lips as he played with their ribcage as if it was a piano.

"GAHAHAHAHAHAHA STOHOHOP IT!!" Y/n yelled on top of their lungs as their sensitive ribs were playfully tormented. "Or else what? I should remind you that I'm the one in charge here, so you're in no position to bark orders." The redhead replied with his usual amount of wit and sass as he kept having fun with his mentee's ribs.

Poor y/n could feel their legs shaking, but they did their best to fight the urge to curl over themselves... with scarce results apparently, because Tartaglia corrected them. "Your posture is incorrect, I'm gonna have to correct you, I suppose..."

And by 'correct' he meant scribbling all over their back and watch them yelp and arch it into a more correct position. "That's what I'm talking about... and I gotta admit that you're lasting surprisingly long given how much you're laughing and squirming... I guess I'll have to go for the kill..."

As he said that, his hands shot up to y/n's underarms, delicately scratching the skin with all his 10 fingers. "WAAAAHAHAHAEHEHEHEHE NOHOHOHOHO PLEHEAHAHAHSE!!" The trainee couldn't handle it anymore and let go of the stick as their knees gave out and they crumbled to the ground, trying to curl up in a ball as those devious, nimble fingers followed every single movement of theirs.

"IHIHIHI GIHIHIHIVEHEHE!! IHIHI GIVEHEHEHEHEHE UHUHUHUHUP!!!" They scream-laughed desperately when the tickling got too much to handle, and were relieved that the Harbinger decided to be merciful and stop the tickling.

After they recovered from that merciless attack (yes, he recognized he'd been a little merciless), he looked at them still with his smug face. "Well? What do you think about this endurance training?"

"Endurance training?! You call this torture a training session?!" They exclaimed in embarrassment, which made him snicker. "I think you should endure a little bit of punishment for lying to me about your ticklishness..." He slowly approached them again.

"I loved this training session!!" Y/n quickly replied with a terrified smile. Maybe (MAYBE) they had fun, but going through all of that again was really too much. "See? That's what I'm talking about!" He chirped, "I bet you're much more relaxed and laid back after laughing so much... but you're right, this was no training. I just wanted to have my fun while loosening you up."

"You WHAT?!" The poor mentee exclaimed completely astonished. "Aaaww are you gonna pretend you didn't like this even a little? Fine, I guess... get up and get your revenge!"

Y/n quickly got up and charged at their mentor, determined to take him down and 'make him pay'.

They never managed to get their revenge... on the contrary, they got wrecked again, but Childe also told them that he'd never seen them fight so well, without the usual rigidity. That 'endurance training' had really managed to loosen them up.

#genshin impact tickle #genshin tickle #lee!reader #ler!childe #ler!tartaglia #ler!ajax #tickle fic #ticklish!reader #LER CHILDE LER CHILDE LER CHILDE 😻😻😻😻#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH-

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skelly-words · 1 month

Note

Hey! If cool I was wondering if you could write tentacle smut. I’m not too sure on the plot but wanted reader to be very much in some sort of public setting with loads of people just watching as she gets railed by a tentacle. The kinks I wanted to ask if they could be in there is Voyourism (public sex), public nudity, squirting and/ watersports and overstimulation.

If not that is totally okay! I just wanted to ask :) and am exited to see what you come up with if your comfortable with writing this

okay cool so....

Not proofread, tags in the ask + spit a lil bit, ass eating, idk futa shenanigans, ahhhh milk (i kinda scared myself w/ this at the end)

My brain immediately went to big networking conventions that businesses have where the important people from the different corporate branches come together to drink, schmooze, and brag about sales numbers to each other.

Your boss asks you to come with her to help with the demonstration. The travel expenses and hotel costs are all covered, so you agree to spend the weekend on Wall Street with her.

I hate this, but there's the slightest bit of lore, so i ECOURAGE you to read the other parts first -> masterlist

MINORS DNI, stay away 18+ only

The presentation room of the hotel caters to corporate mixers like this. Circular dinner tables decorated with charcuterie fill out the hall. Your knee bounces nervously as people begin to file in. Saturday had been boring, spent bumming around the all-inclusive spa while your boss attended other company presentations not too dissimilar from this one.

"Relax." Your boss whispers. She sits in the squeaky folding chair beside you. Her hand lands comfortably on your thigh, stilling your knee with her warm touch. "All you have to do is bend over the podium."

You nod and try to emulate her flippant attitude. The bounce returns to your knee anyway because nerves are impossible to hide. The minutes slip by as people settle into their seats. The dimming lights act as a cue to hush the small talk and side conversations.

“Ready?” She gives your thigh a heady squeeze.

“Yea, ‘m ready,” you mumble.

Her gait is steady and comfortable up to the front of the room, and you trail behind in the shelter of her shadow. You smiled unsteadily at the sea of unfamiliar faces. Your boss tapped her knuckles on the podium, clearing her throat to get the rooms attention.

“Thank you all for coming,” she begins. “My branch is testing a few new methods of increasing productivity today. It’s all based on the same principle, ‘a happy mind is profitable one.’

“Of course, we’ll begin with the demonstration, just to prove how much it’ll help you focus on the rest of the presentation.”

An interested hum sweeps through the crowd as she leads you around the front of the podium. You aren’t wearing panties, only a skirt, which immediately becomes apparent as she lifts your waist up to the podium. The sturdy wooden surface slopes slightly up toward the room, propped up for dozens of eyes ogle your bare skin.

The position makes blood rush to your head, almost dizzy from the heavy heartbeat in your ears. Your skin feels hot and sensitive. The skirt tickles, sliding down the gentle slope of your back. You wonder if they can see how wet you are, cunt aching from all the attention.

The speech sounds so far away, like all your senses are dulling to make way for the electricity running beneath your skin. From the corner of your eye, you see a couple workers wheel three tanks up to the front of the podium.

The terrariums are large and damp, too fogged up from humidity to see anything through the glass. They're pushed into a neat line, starting at your side and progressing to the front of the stage in single file. The tank closest to you is the smallest. It's the only one you can properly look into because the creatures have suctioned themselves to the wet panes. Their round bodies flatten into mounds on the glass, little mouths busily opening and closing. You watch them, mindlessly observing them inch in little circles, around and round, maybe spirals if you spent enough time staring. You shiver, imagining the pattern it could suck into your skin. From your position now, you wonder if you look anything like that mouth on the glass to that polite crowd of people.

You feel a warm hand skim over your ass, inviting your neatly pleated skirt to drape over your back completely. The gauzy brown fabric went well with your blouse, and you remember packing it for this conference a week in advance. It feels silly now, to think what you're wearing matters when it's really the demonstration that's important.

The first tank slides open with a squeak, and your boss pulls a writhing blue tentacle out with a cloud of steam following it. You can barely see what's happening in your peripheral vision and only when you turn your head to the side. She wastes no time at all, taking the companies limited resources into account, the conference room was only reserved for an hour. Her other hand traces up and down your back, nails first, to scratch gently through the layers of fabric.

"You're doing great, hun." She whispers the reassurance into your ear, low and husky so only you can hear it. In one motion, she presses the end of the tentacle into your butt. It's bigger than what you had at home, which is what you prepped for. Her hand flattens to soothing circles when the pain comes through in your groans. You quiet to a whimper as the thing flails, twisting to orient itself inside you. It still hurt, but you were adjusting quickly to the pressure in your ass as it slithers down to find your pussy.

Now, no matter how you turn, you can't see what's going on. The suckers drag against you, that much is easy to discern from the sense of touch. The rest of your senses besides that have gone totally useless, so you watch the hypnotic pattern that the specimens in the last tank trace in the condensation.

The blue tentacle pushes into you. It's fat, thick and showy so the people in the back can see. Your eyes might be crossing from the way it slowly stretches you out. A shiny blue slime drips from every pore, sucker, and gland on the thing, making you squish obscenely from every movement. In. Out. In. Out. And your boss is still talking, you can even see the slides she flicks through when your eyes roll back, but it all sounds like white noise as the monstrous size shoves into your cunt, slipping out to momentarily attach an oozing sucker to your clit. Then it squirms right back into your hole, so slick that it runs down the inside of your thighs.

It's hopeless to imagine paying attention to anything else.

"But that's when we ran into the issue of hygiene. Clearly, this doesn't fit corporate dress-code."

That cuts through your thoughts, followed by light chuckles. The second tank slides open with a thunk, and you don't have to crane as much to see the pink tentacle calmy wrap around her arm.

"Oh, f-fuck," you finally make a sound audible over the disgusting squelch of that blue monster. She's trying to press the thick bulb at the end of the pink one into you, leaning real close, almost cheek to cheek as she forces it further past your rim. A glob of spit falls from her lips, you groan as she smears it around with her tongue.

"Just relax for me." And you're not even sure she's talking to you in that raspy tone. The hand on your back has inched lower to keep you pinned in place, and it's making you sore from how the podium’s edge digs into your hips.

Your sounds fall freely now, turning to whines as she licks you to ease the stretch. The hand on your back lightens up as the fat plug slides into place alongside the blue one. An affectionate smack lands on your ass, rubbing her warm palm over the spot as she watches the pink tentacle unfurl and flatten.

You can't see it, only whine as the weight shifts and adjusts inside you. The blue tentacle stops moving as if to behave and play nice with a friend. The gummy feelers attach as the pink tentacle latches on. It cups your swollen pussy, cleaning up the appearance quite nicely to the audience's disappointment. But your moans grow louder, echoing to let you know the sound made it to the back of the room. The little fingerlings lining the pink tentacles interior are so active. They pinch at your clit, making it slip between the soft jelly limbs while the others started playing with the rest of you.

"...And when properly stimulated, this specimen can be prompted to release its reproductive material on command." That faint comment reminds you of the eggs.

Your gasp is mixed between startled and concerned when her hand begins to brush the tentacle wrapped around your crotch. Being stuffed with the twitching blue tentacle makes you wonder where all the slimy eggs will go.

At her light brushes, the tendrils start to pull you apart. They slip inside you, just barely, enough to make your legs start to shake. You can feel them start to pour in as her thumb pushes down, squeezing out the soft spawn like horrific toothpaste as she slides the digit up from the base.

The blue tentacle comes back to life now, helping push the pink jelly into your poor pussy. You can feel the tiny limbs scoop and blue suckers fuck the eggs up against your sore cervix. And still, nobody can see. Your boss stands over you. Her hand trails between your thighs, tapping in the drying slick that's become tacky. She tugs at the tip of the tentacle, pinching firmly at the pink appendage and peeling it back.

Not all the eggs made it inside, rolling down your thighs as the mess is exposed. She's slow with her reveal, trailing her fingers through the juices to try the combination. You've gotten quieter, trying to keep your whimpers silent now that it's easier to hear. She starts to pull at the plug, and you have to bite your lip to keep it down. It doesn't wanna come out of your ass, still pulsing from so recently releasing eggs. Still, she tugs, making you squirm and clench your cunt. You've been on the edge for so long, and feeling the stretch to your rim makes your thighs squeeze together. They can barely shut to rub around your throbbing clit.

"I might as well introduce the last one then." She gives up on freeing the pink tentacle with a frustrated sigh and finally steps behind the podium to reach the tank in your eyeline. "They fit perfectly under your bra, so we'll both be demonstrating."

Your eyes follow her hand, from the lid, to inside the tank, to the buttons on her shirt. You strain to look up at her because she's standing so close, watching with jealousy as that thing sucks on her nipple. Her breasts look bigger too, spilling from her bra when she tries to squish them back into her shirt. A glance back down makes you blush. A bulge starts to bubble from her pencil skirt. It wouldn't be very noticeable if it wasn't a few inches from your nose.

"My turn?" You look up at her from between watery lashes, bending to smiling crescents when she nods. She lifts your chest just enough from the podium to let the green lump latch onto you. It doesn't seem to mind being squashed against the wood when she lowers you back down. They feel good, sucking at your breasts in a perfectly alternating rhythm. You start to feel weird, hotter as your tits get sore. The mouths pinch a little, not enough to hurt, barely more than a warning bite. You groan, the throbbing in your ruined pussy is getting worse. It makes you imagine what your boss is feeling. The pre dripping into her underwear. You probably could take her cock too if she asked you. She's still giving a presentation, talking through a slide as the buttons on her dress shirt strain. Her hand slips back to your butt, where it was yanking the bigger plug out of you.

She braces the opposite hand on your asscheek, rocking the pink tentacle back and forth to coax it out. You can barely hold sound back, dissolving into pitchy breaths when the fat blue fucker decides to start up again. It starts slow, but that pace doesn't last. After packing you with eggs, it's eager to let its cum out. Every loud thrust makes the eggs probe deeper. You can feel it in your tummy, pressed flat to the uncomfortably hard podium.

Your sensitive nipples pulse in time with the relentless suckers. You can't even care to be surprised as they spurt milk, moaning instead from the toy twisting in your ass.

The pink tentacle finally slips out of you, put back in its tank where it belongs. But you're sore, hole left gaping for the blue one to fill in as it swells. It gets bigger in your pussy too, larger with each beat. Even as she talks, her fingers can't stop playing with you, either pinching at your skin or dragging a digit through your slit. Her microphone is ther only thing keeping her intelligible over your cries, strung out from the pleasure.

Her fingers swirl around your clit, so sensitive. The touch isn't any more than light nibbles on your chest, but it makes you gasp and jump against her hand. You start to cum when she twists harder. The moans inside you spill out in one cry as you squirt. The pinch to your clit makes you spurt all over the front of her clothes.

She gasps in disgust and yanks you off the podium. The flooring is carpet, soft enough for your sore ass when you slump against the sturdy wood.

Your boss brushes off the interruption like nothing, simply indicating the conclusion of the demonstration as the slides flick to a new segment. She steps carefully between your legs when walking back to her place behind the podium.

The front of your blouse is halfway unbuttoned, however much was needed to get those creatures on, and now you notice how swollen they made your tits. You whine as the blue thing keeps moving between your thighs. There's more leverage at this angle and you don't know if you should moan or cry. In a few stunted thrusts, cum starts to fill you up, thick ropes of it that still somehow leak out from between all the eggs and the fat tentacle.

The pretty blue sheen coats your inner-thighs and the conference room floor. Something’s still wrong though. The ache between your legs isn't gone, not completely no matter how much your sore body begs to stop. It's the milk, or the hormones that come with it asking for just a little more. The demonstration portion is over. You're done, everyone's supposed to be focused on the woman speaking.

You slip a hand to your clit, circling the bud with shaking fingers. Just one more, and you'll be fine. Your boss doesn't even notice the room's eyes drifting lower. The blue tentacle indulges you, lazily moving in your cunny along with a few pumps of its warm seed. You can look at the lump it makes in your stomach from this angle.

This time, the orgasm builds fast and you have to muffle soft pants against your hand as you cum. Your poor pussy hurts, but you still need another and the tight circles on your clit don't let up.

There can't be that much more time before the hour is up and she has to get these things off you. Yet, your wrist is getting sore and weak dribbles of piss leak out of you at each peak. You notice people in the crowd hiding their arousal, and that somehow makes your crazy mind even hornier. Your abused clitty gives a heartbeat to your thumb each time someone palms their crotch or crosses their legs, still trying to be politely discreet.

The lights brighten as the presentation ends and a few odd bursts of scattered applause break out at a few tables. You still don't have the decency to leave your needy cunt alone, finally closing your legs around the blue tendril still curled up inside you as the people leave the room to pick a brochure up.

I had another anon ask abt going to find a new tentacle with the coworker from pt.2, but I kinda decided they were aliens (pink and blue both would normally use a host for mating and the suckers kinda do the same thing but for food, ig they're all just parasites sorry if that's gross), so i added a new variety into this one for you <3

A/N- how'd she do that? i would've gone ngh~ *squish* IMMEDIATLY, sry can you tell idk anything about an office job? oh well, stfu and enjoy the smut then (this is way over the top 😭) Also why did i give myself the displeasure of two (2) unnamed characters, give me names for Ms. boss or i'll start adding y/n (a threat)

#skel replies sometimes #skel writes tentacles #tentacle smut #tentacular #nsft tentacles #tentacles #monster fucker #terato #teratophillia

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abbyonmars · 6 months

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can't catch me now. | ellie williams - wlw ♥

".. i'm just going to go dig up some katniss. there's a good patch, down by the lake." "i thought it was too early for that."

.・゜゜・inspired by the ballad of songbirds and snakes. thankyou suzanne collins for the wonderful franchise of thg :')

narrative: second person. sfw: angst/a little fluff idk wc: 4.5k

"well, the world changes awful fast."

warnings: signs of manipulation(?). canon plot to tlou2 (somewhat), violence + death!!! blood + torture. emetophobia warning (no one throws up, i just mention a lot of feeling nauseous). also progressively shitty to even shittier writing LOOL

"but.. it's still raining." "well - i'm not made 'outta sugar."

— in which expressing your devout love and loyalty for ellie williams had come at the cost of your own sanity.

°:. *₊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊

it had been about a day since you and ellie had arrived in seattle. you were situated behind her on a trotting mare as you both were headed towards the hospital, the one past the forest by which you both had been focused on for at least a couple of hours now. it had been almost completely silent within the duration of the trip, interrupted by the occasional question or comment from time to time.

in the past, you two had been attached at the hip — you had spent every living moment with each other, having shared fond and delicate memories since the day she stepped a foot into jackson.

you had been one of the first to greet her into her first week. despite her initially unsociable attitude, you tried your best to make her feel welcomed because, bless your heart, you thought you sensed something good behind those guarded green eyes of hers.

each leaf strung on every tree branch beside you collectively shook with rash force, disturbed with each whistle of wind as it weaved itself through the compact forest. the breeze had continuously brushed against you, casting cold shivers along your skin causing your body to shudder behind the girl in front.

"ellie?"

".. hm?"

in this moment, your breath hitched. something about it made you feel uneasy, nauseous, perhaps in craving for the sweet comfort of jackson's warmth. you missed its atmosphere and the protection of its great walls and people. you really missed your friends - reminiscing on the sweet times you had joked and laughed and carelessly partied with them had started to make you feel sick to your stomach with each recollection.

god, you were so naive. if only you had really cherished those moments. had you never taken them for granted, maybe you never would've left. had you never made the decision to challenge your odds, it wouldn't hurt to let past you see exactly where you were now. there was nothing you wanted more but to be back home. if only time could reverse to moments before the present.

.. reverse to the times before that golf club had ever struck joel's head.

but you never said anything like that. spoke your real feelings and dissimilar logic aloud.

".. nothing."

the brunette huffed. with a few clicks of her tongue and a few gentle tugs on the mare's lead, the speed of which you both were moving came to a gradual stop.

"you know," she said, turning her head over her shoulder to you, "i hate when you do that."

you shrugged. admittedly, you weren't all that sure why you did do that. you were quiet for a moment though, silently condemning yourself for even choosing to speak in the first place. maybe all you needed was to get something off your chest. but was it the right time? what would she even say?

"'m sorry," you mumbled, half-apologetically - you knew her head wasn't in the right space. that her love, and her grief was so strong, all she had the space to think about was settling the twisted burdens that wouldn't stop pricking and poking at her like a thousand rose thorn casted devils on her shoulder. until she was able to strip them all away through vengeance.. at least that's what it seemed to be.

residing by you, however, was a pit of resentment. a very deep one, for that matter. it took you so long to even acknowledge it was there, because even through all the pain your delicate hands had endured and inflicted, it never took you much thought to keep going for the girl you had always given your all to.

"i just.. can't stand the silence, i guess. sorry."

ellie let out a scoff-sounding chuckle and shook her head at you. it wasn't certain whether that was a gesture of disproval or a way of simple teasing, but either way, you did catch a subtle hint of a force tugging upward on the corner of her lips.

"oh. s'okay.. babe," she answered. before she turned back around, one hand let go of the reigns to awkwardly pat one of the hands you had resting on her waist for security. "we okay to keep going? or do you have to stop?"

do you have to?

when she said it, it almost sounded rhetorical. as if she didn't actually expect an answer from you other than the one she wanted.

"uhm.. we have been riding for a while, ellie. i'm sure the horse needs a rest." you murmured reluctantly, at once noticing the way her eyes finally darted away at your response. as she motioned the horse forward, you let out an uneasy chuckle, practically hear the cogs in her brain sputtering with thought. her silence became slightly troubling even though it didn't take her that long to come up with an answer.

she inhaled slowly. at first her head tilted upwards towards a nod, right before it lowered and shifted into a shaking motion similar to what she had done to you a few seconds ago.

"we're almost there, y/n. just ten more minutes, okay?"

your eyebrows furrowed and your arms around her had tensed slightly. what, she couldn't sit still for a second?

"but..." you swallowed. in the turn by which you spoke next, your voice grew quieter, sort of similar to the pathetic creaking sound of a slowly opening door. "i'm cold. hungry, also."

you noticed her jaw shifting as she grit her teeth together; you knew she tried to keep her patience with you, but that patience seemed to thin by each day you spent alongside her.

"there are protein bars in the small pocket," she muttered, referring to the space in her bag on her back. her tone was unwavering, yet slightly apprehensive or on edge. "can't you wait this out?"

the tension between you two was impalpable, and you couldn't help but feel a little impatient yourself. the desperation in her voice that you knew she was trying with effort to bury deep and away from your ears was so obvious and it was almost frustrating, because what was so different about the current circumstance that made her feel like she couldn't share what was on her mind with you, like she had already done before?

there was a slight pause before you leaned your body forward in attempt to look at her. from the side of her face, her eyes were vacantly focused ahead as she guided your steed, but there was nothing more.

"ten minutes won't hurt," you pressed. "c'mon, please? let's check out one of the buildings, and we can talk or something."

this earned a silence from the brunette. with you being sat behind her, you weren't fully sure what she made of your suggestion, given the limited view of her face. she sighed again, giving the heavy heave of her torso before she answered.

"talk? you think we have the time for that?" she muttered once again, her words growing harder. harder in tone, harder to hear. her words flowed much too quickly, like she was holding them in and just happened to let them go. "nora could be leaving as we speak, and you want to talk? what is so important, y/n. what even is there to talk about? did you follow me to help, or did you come here to be a burden?"

ouch. with your own inflicted silence, you leaned back and withdrew from her. your hands on her waist twitched with their own demands to pull back too as your touch grew lighter and more hesitant.

whatever sparkle you could remember from whence you looked into her eyes heretofore had died, and an empty shell of whoever she had become was left behind. there was no room left for you anymore. what you were starting to realise was that her hollow mind would always be occupied. occupied by everything, anything but you.

".. shit." she whispered. her head tilted downward as she cursed, and the horse started to slow. she did realise her mistake, but was evidently unsure of how to navigate around it. around you. "i didn't.. mean that, y/n."

a week ago, this time around, who's to say she would've reacted the same? it was almost amusing, how insincere this whole thing felt. she could, and has apologised before in endless fashion, but you knew her fallacies would always bounce back to follow her. even after the very few words of this moment and after the regretful sounding apologies, her past actions and the few unveiled emotion she had shared became very telling of her subtle duplicity.

you suddenly felt exhausted. sighing quietly you nodded, regardless of the fact that she couldn't see you, along with the hurt that glossed over your eyes.

"mhm," you hummed, attempting to hide the falter in your voice and the sudden apathy expressed. "s'fine. we'll keep going."

"no." she mumbled. pulling the mare over to a nearby sign, you watched with slight incredulity as she swung her leg over its body to jump off, meeting the ground with an aspirated grunt of effort. she looked up at you and held out her hand for you to help yourself off.

"nora can wait," she added after a pause. you noticed a slight crease in her eyebrows that wore into her face as she spoke, and how often she blinked at you. "let's scout out that clinic. we're running out of supplies anyway."

feeling slightly guilt ridden and promptly feeling indifferent about leaving your steed, you stared at the offer that was her hand before you took it, the nipping temperature of her calloused palm pressing sharply against the gentle warmth of your own.

coming off of the horse with a similar sounding grunt, you moved your head to look up at her. you noticed the darkening bags of fatigue abrading heavily at her eyes, and the dullness of labour worn on her face. you were quite surprised at how easily she let up and the way her mind changed in an instant.

"c'mon." ellie mumbled, noticing the abrupt silence from you. she squeezed your hand, trying for at least a drop of alleviation.

with her free hand she tied the leash of the horse to the sign before turning to you again, attempting to offer a smile as she looked down at you.

she then took you by the hand into the clinic. like most buildings, it was considerably worn down; faintly printed advertisements were weakly plastered over the walls, some having been teared down by time and its circumstances. shelves were scattered, broken, and fractured to pieces — if you weren't careful, poor manoeuvring would land at least a couple of splinters into your skin.

looking downward, you stepped carefully around the broken remains of glass and the sort, simultaneously looking for items to take along with you. whatever you were stepping over crunched under the soles of the boots of both yours and ellie's, filling the brief silence that had overcome the air in the meantime.

she still had you with her by the hand. herd hand had warmed a little since being wrapped around yours, and she gave the occasional squeeze — however rough her skin was from the many years of combat, the simple gesture had always been able to twist your heart and make you swoon, no matter the picture of your relationship. she had you wrapped around her finger in an almost suffocating grip.

you watched the back of her head. the way it would snap towards the direction of any given sound. the way her short hair would move with the direction of her head as she moved it, and each detail of the half-up styling she did that morning.

"i hope dina and jesse are okay." you mumbled, more so to yourself.

"me too," ellie answered, keeping her eyes ahead as she squeezed your hand again. "i'm sure they're fine. jesse'll be good at holding down the fort, especially since.. you know."

part of your somber-ness was partly influenced by your worry — since dina revealed her pregnancy, it was a lot of what you could really think about at this point, aside from your nauseating homesickness. you had left them both at the theatre in pursuit of nora, leaving jesse in care of dina's quickly weakening state.

you looked up at her. you and jesse had both already suggested going back to jackson for dina (and the baby)'s sake, but you couldn't leave tommy out here alone. you all knew the direction he was headed in, but it was only a matter of time before he would meet his near demise.

"yeah, but, how long until he can't?" as you spoke, your eyes continued to observe the clinic, drifting along its walls and dismantled furniture. "anything could've happened by now, ellie. i'm a little worried."

she stopped and turned around to face you, her eyes disconcertedly moving around the room one more time as a precaution before they settled onto yours.

"look," she said, taking a gentle step closer to you, "you don't need to worry about them. jesse's strong, and dina knows how to defend herself. have a little faith, huh?"

she chuckled softly. it had been a while since you heard her laugh, yet you could find it in yourself to laugh back. it's like she couldn't see the severity of the situation — sure, dina was a undoubtedly a strong fighter, but how long could you keep up your fight when you literally have a human growing inside of you, taking up half your strength?

your eyes casted downward. you could feel your heart start to race in your chest from slight alarm. "this isn't a joke. what if jesse's hurt, or.. dead, or something. dina would be all alone. are you not worried too?"

"hey. of course i'm worried," she took her free hand to under your chin, lifting it up with the side of her index finger and the tip of her thumb. "but i'm worried about us too.. about you. they're okay, y/n, they can handle their own."

for the moment you were now looking back into her eyes, you felt a little reassured. maybe you did need to have a little more faith in them — after all, they'd been able to keep themselves alive for this long. tommy could even be back to accompany them.

but no matter what, you knew you'd continue to entertain your stress until you got back. not only that, but something about the look she gave you felt slightly fabricated, hinting at a deeper meaning or purpose you just couldn't quite put a finger on.

"fine," you sighed. "i just wanna get out of here."

her eyebrows then creased and her slightly cracked lips were tugging into a frown. she paused for a moment as if to contemplate what you said, letting her hand slip from your face.

"sure," she mumbled, taking her hand to rub at the back of her neck. a nervous habit that she's always been inclined to practice. "let's head out then, hmm?"

with that, you both continued your search of the clinic. a few minutes passed and she had somehow managed to find a small, silver trinket of a bear necklace pendant, one that she had sheepishly approached you with.

"hey," she halfway whispered, her tone at a playfully quiet shout to get your attention.

"huh?" you mumbled, only just breaking out of your concentration that was previously focused on the drawer you were scavenging for bandages. you lacked to pay much mind as you turned around to face her, now a little taken aback by her sudden jesting-ish act.

she had her hands behind her back, partly grinning at you.

"pick one."

your eyebrows furrowed, and yet your lips twitched with slight amusement. ".. what?"

"my hands, silly. left or right?"

"uhh.. left?"

"good job!" she chuckled, bringing her left hand in front of her, her fingers still wrapped into a lightly held fist. it was actually in her right, but she swapped it behind her back before she revealed her surprise. she shook it mildly, seemingly charmed by the confusion forming on your face. "you won!"

you narrowed your eyes at her. with the slight shake and tilt of your head, you chuckled back at her, asking dubiously what she was getting at.

she had told you to open up your hand and carefully dropped it into the middle of your palm, gifting it from her to you. you were both blushing, even almost giggling as if you were both children again in a playground.

you pocketed the bear, hearing the pendant clink against the other various metallic items you had already stuffed into your jeans.

"you know, you kind of remind me of a bear," she snorted, lifting her hand to habitually rub her fingers against her earlobe.

"what?" your nose scrunched and she chuckled again, enjoying expression she planted on your face.

"you're cute and cuddly." she winked, watching as your face only turned more at her poor joke. her smile grew more once she received a light punch on her arm to which she pulled it to her and rubbed it, jokingly wincing with a sarcastic 'ouch' mouthed in a whisper from her lips.

"but you're also.. you know - you're brave," she murmured. her smile had subsequently faltered as she spoke to you, her tone the most gentle from whence you heard her speak days before. " - and protective. you're my shield, y/n, my confidence. i-i could take on all the hits in the world - as long as you're there with me."

you stuffed the bear back into your jean pocket after you had sat there observing its quirks from in between your finger and your thumb; the silver of the metal twinkled delicately under the taps of light from the windows, bringing out the colour from the faded pink of the artificial bow detailed on the ear of its head. it stared back at you as you watched it, trapped back into your thoughts again.

you were currently in the other room of the clinic, as ellie had left to check the other room a few minutes ago. she seemingly wanted to hide the cute flush on her face — the way she avoided your eyes with a surprisingly shy smile before she walked away was etched into your brain.

you were still smiling softly to yourself. you really appreciated the sweet gesture, even if it was a small one — it made you forget about the worries that was the homesickness and your friends for the moment, easing the ache in your chest and the wrinkles between your then furrowed brows.

but then you heard a thump. and then another one. and then an unfamiliar voice, and then a gunshot.

and suddenly that ache was back, striking hard and fast against your chest as you backed into the wall, sliding carefully against it. you edged towards the doorframe, slipping your revolver out from your pocket with a tight, slightly shaking grip.

"no no no, please...! i-i d-don't know who that is!"

another thump.

"p-please.." they were choking. their voice was broken up before you heard them spit, coughing something up onto the floor.

"look at me, fucker."

.. ellie?

you poked your head just past the frame, and your eyes settled on your girl. she had her back to you and him up against the wall on the floor, with one hand a bloodied bat and the other a pointed gun.

" - and don't you try to lie to me. i'll make you eat your bullshit, wolf."

she raised the bat to underneath his chin, forcing his head up to look at her. he coughed up more blood; the red splattered over the splintered wood, and it dribbled down his chin. he looked weak. his eyes were bloodshot and his tears were mixing in with the blood that oozed out of the slashes on his dislodged nose.

blood had also been seeping through the fabric of his pants. it exuded out into an escalating puddle of dark red on the floor, trickling closer towards the soles of ellie's shoes. you could hear his anxious whimpers, and you watched as he held both hands to his leg, dragging it across the floor as he kept up his attempts to back away from her. however, each time he tried, ellie would only step closer to him, menacingly staring daggers into his eyes.

"i-i'm not lying, i swear.. i'm not one of t-them, i only have my little girl.. she's - she's waiting for me - "

thump. except it was more than a thump. much more so, you swore his head was almost knocked right off his body.

"yes you are," ellie growled through her teeth. "tell me where nora is, or abby, or your little girl will have to stay waiting."

you blinked. of course, you had seen ellie take lives just as she's seen you take on your own. but this wasn't her. this wasn't the same girl who had you flushed and smitten just a few minutes ago, was it?

after a brief pause, she lowered her bat, letting it swing loosely at her side. you sighed in relief, and yet a moment too soon — she cocked her gun, raising it to aim between his glossy eyes.

"n-no.. no."

"fucking talk, idiot!" she barked, the threat rolling off from her tongue as easily as she waved the barrel at his face like it was nothing. she came closer and closer, her stance making her scrawny body seem bigger than that of this middle aged man.

it was as if you were frozen still. every cell in your body egged you on, desperately urging for you to move, to intervene. but you couldn't, like your shoes were glued to the floor and all you could do was stare and ignore the dizzy spell that cursed you to feel like the room was spinning and closing in on you.

she clicked her tongue. her head rolled to the side for a moment as she let out this sinistrous laugh and you saw her permanent snarl, lips turned with progressively darkening eyes.

"... ellie?"

and her head snapped towards you. you were stupid to assume the light in her eyes would return, but all you were met with was relentless rage, like hell was crackling from behind her eyes.

"hey, angel." she muttered, slowly averting her gaze back to the victim that lay almost limp just under her. "might wanna turn back there. this isn't something i want you here with me for."

"ellie," you repeated in a shallow breath, eyes glued to the blood and the man and oh god, the blood. "what are you.. doing.."

your voice seemed to quiver as you spoke, growing frail with the fear of actually finding out the answer to your own question. the words came out almost involuntarily, evident through your mouth agape and your eyes widening bit by bit at the sight.

"y/n," she replied, not even bothering to turn to face you. you noticed her knuckles, all bruised and trickling with blood that seeped through the tears and rips in her skin. "please."

"you - you - y-you look just like her," the man pointed a weak, shaking finger at you. "m-my girl, my daughter. please, i.. i need to see-"

another blow to his body, except to his chest this time. he groaned and coughed up more blood, spewing it out of his mouth as he wheezed a feminine name you couldn't quite catch.

"ellie, don't.." your voice broke. finally stepping into the open, you flinched as she harshly shoved the barrel into his forehead, tearing further skin.

"you don't believe this shithead, do you?" she snapped at you. "there's no girl, he's lying through his teeth."

"ellie."

"if i let him go he'll fuck off," she shoved the barrel once again into his face, trailing it down his nose, making him wince. "fuck off and rat me out to his friends. can't have that."

"p-please find her," he croaked staring directly at you and into your eyes, "t-tell her tha - that daddy loves her.. ple - please."

the moment seemed to blur together, and all you could remember was distinct choked pleas. you remembered wanting to throw up your battering heart, the way you felt like succumbing to a collapse and sinking, melting into the floor. it was all nauseating, each time she'd knock the gun into his pummelled head coincidentally in tune with your pulse.

you tried to pull her away, but that only seemed to make matters worse for the three of you. ellie held her arm out in defence, blocking you from her offence — you heard each cracking bone, felt each droplet of blood splattered onto your face alongside the impact from each relentless blow the man took by cause of ellie's pitiless hands.

it seemed like eternity, like time dragged on forever and ever. an eternity of your cries, your begs. she couldn't bring herself to stop, as each pound somehow turned worse than the last.

he eventually went limp. the strangled noises eventually came to a stop, but his loose body continued to exert blood from his lips, gurgling and dripping down his chin in endless trickles.

"y/n.. y/n..?"

two fingers were clicking in your face, snapping you out of your trance. they then took place under your chin, lifting your face to allow your eyes to drift upward.

"hey.. come back to me," she murmured, slowing her pace with you. she watched with concern, eyebrows knitting and eyes squinting. "you alright?"

you stared blankly at her. you remembered the bravery she claimed you had earlier that day, praying it would somehow, by miracle of a shooting star, manifest itself into you now. if you were brave, you'd leave. if you were brave, you'd tell her the truth about how you feel.

but you weren't. none of what she said was real; you weren't brave. you were scared, fearing the girl that cradled your face with her torment-stricken hands, yet with great depth fearing what you'd do without them. but after witnessing the pure agony she truly had the capacity to induce, you'd never succumb to her comfort again.

"yeah.. i-i'm fine, sorry." you mumbled, blinking repeatedly. how many more times could you bring yourself to lie, repeatedly, over and over? and what if she found you out? you knew she hated deceit, fabrication woven into your words and actions.

"good," you heard her mumble, dipping down to press her lips against the top of your head. "'m glad you're here, angel."

"yeah.. me too."

┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺ 　°

this was so boring and messy i fear

this was sitting half complete in my drafts for at least 3 weeks. should've stayed that way if i'm honest x

i started reading pride & prejudice today :D along w tess of the d'urbervilles (im on ch15), i'm enjoying both so farrrrrrr

alec can go die though

i wanna start xmas hcs bc everyone seems to love the gf abby post (me too)

ok bye

im never writing an unplanned fic this long ever again! Xx i was gonna proofread this but i cba soz

also i said it was inspired by tbosas but i completely went off track so it became less inspired than i thought

ok bye fr

#ellie williams #lesbian #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #the last of us 2 #the last of us #wlw #tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #angst #fluff #ellie williams x female reader #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

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