#anyways he is like SO lonely but hes afraid to put himself out there & find someone to settle down with

[drpeppertummy]

i think leon hates himself enough & is desperate enough & lacks enough confidence to go back to his shitty ex husband if the opportunity ever arose but i like to imagine shel would talk him out of that

#text #xleonx #he was married to this loser before he transitioned #& he was soo awful & caused him so much physical & emotional damage #they had a kid together but she died really young from some illness & he blamed leon for it even tho it was nobodys fault #idk what the final straw was for leon to leave him but he did eventually #& idk whether his drinking problem started before or after the divorce #anyways he is like SO lonely but hes afraid to put himself out there & find someone to settle down with #& he wants to start a family but he knows hes too dysfunctional & hes afraid of being a bad parent #& the thought alone makes him feel guilty bc it feels like replacing his daughter #but to this day hes still a little convinced that nobody but his shitty ex would ever want him #i dont think he & shel would ever be like a full blown romantic relationship as much as they love each other #i could see them having a friends with benefits thing going on & shel could be content with that #but leon wants like. A Husband

[hammyballeceter]

Ivar The Boneless

Different

summary - You had been courting Hvitserk, when you’d caught him doing the unthinkable. That’s when Ivar stepped in.

You and Hvitserk had been together for a while, you were in a partner ship but there wasn’t an official label. You were his, and he was yours as far as you were concerned. People knew that, you weren’t quick to be married and you didn’t mind that.

You had definitely fallen for the man you’d known since you were a child having been friends with the young Prince since you were toddlers. He was kinder and more gentle then his peers, so how could you not? You knew of his reputation for bedding numerous amounts of women. He was happy if his belly was full and if there was a lady keeping his bed warm, for years that’s how it went. It hurt you to keep the way you felt under wraps. Until one day you had confessed to him, and lucky for you he had felt the same way.

Recently things hadn’t been going so well, you’d noticed his wondering eye but never thought much of it, well tried not to anyways. He loved you, you loved him. Small arguments started to break out every so often but it wasn’t anything that wasn’t sorted with a kiss. You had thought you were secure and happy. Trying to ignore the little cracks that were beginning to form between you and him.

You’d found yourself becoming friendly with his brother Ivar, finding that when you’d search for Hvitserk, he was out doing something. Ivar would usually be the one to tell you he was out, at first you were weary of the man. He was never particularly kind to you as a child, you’d originally tried to befriend the boy as he was your age, but it was Hvitserk who ultimately won your friendship and then love. But in Hvitserks recent absences you found yourself chatting to Ivar, he was kinder when he was by himself.

——————

“He’s not here y/n, he went out early again” you heard Ivar say as you pulled the door closed behind you, glad to be out the cold but annoyed at the fact it was now the 6th time Hvitserk hadn’t bothered to let you know he was out. You tried to not think anything of it, although an uneasy feeling nibbled away at your stomach. Not wanting to push the man, you always assumed he was with his other brothers. You still respected Hvitserk and his brothers, so if he told you he was out with his brothers then he was out with his brothers, you never pushed.

“Well, I’m bored so can I just stay with you for abit? It’s cold and I don’t want to walk through that snow again just yet.” Truthfully you wanted the company, you’d felt so lonely recently and Ivars company was not so bad. You shrugged your furs from your shoulders, placing them over a spare seat to dry from the snow.

“I’d like that, I’ve been alone all day. Your company seems to be the only one that doesn’t annoy me” his answer caused you to shoot a small smile at him. Taking a seat next to him on the floor, you ran your hand through the furs placed for him and now you to sit on, after shifting abit to get comfortable you finally let out a sigh that you hadn’t realised you’d been holding in.

“I’m unsure as to why your allowing him to get away with this” Ivar questioned, allowing his eyes to wander over your form. He’d only ever been mean to try and fight the feelings he has for you, the day you tried to become his friend he remembers like it was yesterday, and he curses himself for ever being so awful to you. You could of been the one thing in his life he could hold onto. But he was afraid, afraid incase you’d reject him or make fun of him like so many others seemed to do. But you never did, and you never would.

Hvitserk was usually his favourite out of his brothers, but the way his older sibling had been making you feel recently bothered him. It wasn’t fair on someone who was so pure and genuine. Although he wanted the unwavering love you had for Hvitserk to be for him. He also, for once in his life, was putting your feelings before his own. He wanted to hold you, make that drained unsure look on your face disappear. He could tell that everything that was going on at the moment was bothering you more then you let on, but you were to polite to do anything about it, to worried to make someone upset. But you also didn’t want that nagging feeling to be true, to address it would mean you were either extremely wrong and possibly hurt Hvitserk or it was true and your heart would surely shatter.

“Ivar, I’m worried. I’m scared. Recently he’s had wondering eyes, for years he hadn’t even looked in the direction of another woman unless it was to speak to them. We’d always tell each other where we are going but mostly we wouldn’t have to because we’d already be together. We haven’t shared a bed in a while, and when he comes back from where ever he’s been going he’s been off with me, like he’s pretending. What am I doing wrong Ivar? I’ve known him since I was a child.” You felt awful for revealing everything to Ivar knowing the young man already had enough going on. Tears streamed your face, it was the first time you’d allowed yourself to cry. It was a foolish thing to do especially in front of a man such as Ivar. You didn’t want to seem weak.

Instead of speaking Ivar placed a gentle arm over your shoulder, cradling you as you cried. His heart-ached for you. But his anger, oh how his anger was boiling over toward his brother.

You both heard the door open, the familiar voices of Ubbe and Bjørn filled the room but Hvitserks was absent. This only caused more worry for you. They stepped into the room you and Ivar were sat in, noticing your obvious distress.

“Ubbe, Bjørn. Was Hvitserk with you today. Or any day recently for that matter?” Your heart speed up, if there answer was anything other then yes, you were ready to start your own war.

“Sorry y/n, me and Bjørn have been fishing recently. But Hvitserk hasn’t been joining us.” Ubbe had a sympathetic tone to his voice, but no amount of sympathy would stop the blood that was now pumping through your veins as you stood. Any upset you had felt was now turned to adrenaline and anger. It was the only thing that would give you the courage to walk over to Hvitserks home and confront him. You hadn’t intended to leave so abruptly hoping the brothers would understand your predicament.

Ivar watched the door slam behind you, his instant reaction was to pull himself up and grab his crutch and strapping his leg braces up as quickly as possible. He wouldn’t allow you to face this on your own if things went south. Despite the cold he set out after you.

You reached Hvitserks door, finally realising where you were. You hesitated, noticing the glow of candles. He was in. Your heart dropped, unsure of what you were going to walk in on. The gnawing feeling in your stomach now a full raging beast. That’s when you heard the soft dragging of feet behind you, you knew exactly who it was. Ivar.

“I’m here for you. y/n. You don’t have to face this alone.” You’d never been more glad to see his face, he brought a tiny bit of comfort. Which you hadn’t of expected. You nodded at him. Thankful for his presence.

With a shaky hesitant hand you pushed the door open, not bothering to knock. Your manners were put on hold for now. It was dark the flickering candles being the only source of light. But he was home, and your fears became reality. You saw her and him, on the bed you used to sleep in with him, where you and Hvitserk spend many a night making love or cuddling. And there he was now but with another woman. They hadn’t noticed you at first but you saw her naked back and heard his grunts.

Your gentle side had been tossed out the room as you pushed the rest of the front door so hard it caused it to crash into the wall beside it, whilst also nearly taking the large piece of wood off of its hinges. This caused the woman to jump from riding your partner, Hvitserk shooting up from his previous position to see the you. Your head whirled with 100 million things to scream at him, yet you didn’t say anything, you stood in the door way, chest heaving. Making sure to make eye contact with Hvitserk so he could see the fury that bubbled behind them.

With that you stormed off. You needed to be alone.

Ivar allowed you to go, understanding that you were angry and needed time alone. But it didn’t mean he wouldn’t give his brother what for. Ivar was enraged. And Hvitserk would soon know all about it.

“YOU, OUT!” Ivar snarled at the naked woman, as she hurriedly gathered her clothes. “if y/ns ever in the same vicinity as you. You better not show your face. Infact do yourself a favor and never come back” he spat.

Turning his attention to his brother, his eyes narrowed at him. Hvitserk didn’t know where to look, he wanted to find you. But no amount of sorry would ever heal the heart he’d just broken. Instead he had to deal with Ivar.

“You disgust me brother. I’ve never known you to do such vile things” Ivar dragged himself further into the house.

“You are no man, you have a woman’s love and this is how you treat it. especially the love of a woman such as y/n” his voice thick with venom towards his brother. “I hope the gods cruse you and that sleaze” Ivar took his arm and swiped everything off of the table allowing it to break, crash and spill. “You are lucky she will not allow me to hurt you, her kindness still prevails even when she should nail your balls to your eyes!”

three months later———

The heartbreak was soul shattering, it took you nearly a month and half to even consider going out side. Yet Ivar visited you most days, even if you wanted your own space Ivar would sit quietly. Allowing you to know his presence was there if needed. Which you were glad for, he held you when you cried, listened when you needed to talk, and chatted when you needed a distraction. You two became close, becoming the best friends you were meant to be.

Hvitserk had tried multiple times to come see you but Ivar wouldn’t allow it. You needed to heal and he would help you do that. Hvitserk left many a gift at your door, it confused Ivar as to why it was now he was spoiling you, trying to give you the attention that you needed for the last part of your and his relationship now. He was two late. You wouldn’t ever go back to a cheat, Ivar helped you get to that frame of mind, as before you would of crumbled craving to feel the man you loved.

Ivar helped remind you that you were beautiful, although to Ivar you were more then beautiful, you were truly breathtaking. Learning some self love was important right now.

You and Ivar had decided to take a walk, nothing major. There was a feast going on in the great hall tonight so Ivar assured you that there wouldn’t be anyone around. So you wrapped yourselves up in furs and your cloaks and headed out.

It was quiet at first, you weren’t going far due to Ivar using his crutches but it was nice to be outside regardless. It was night and the stars had come out in full force, like the gods wanted to paint the sky especially for you and Ivar.

“Oh how wonderful, Ivar look at the sky! The gods has truly blessed us tonight!” You giggled, clasping your hands together softly. It was a joyous sound and one Ivar had missed dearly. You both took a seat on one of the tables that stood in the middle of Kattegat, and Ivar was finally able to look at the sky. He never cared much for such things but today was different if you wanted him to look at the stars then that is what he’d do, and you were correct, the sky was littered with stars and it was truly breathtaking.

“I need closure” you blurted out randomly, Ivar brought down his head to look at you.

“I need closure so I can move on. I want to know why. It’s been months since I’ve seen his face. And I thank you for helping me take the time to heal. But I want to start moving on. I want to be able to love someone else who’ll love me just as much.” Your looked at Ivar to gage a reaction, he smiled softly at you. His gaze relaxing when he met your eyes.

You and Ivar had decided that he would go to the great hall and get his brother. Rather then you having to walk into a place that would cause you a great distress, at least if you were outside and couldn’t handle it you could just walk away. You sat whislt Ivar went to find Hvitserk.

After about 15 minutes you saw the two men walking toward you, Hvitserk caught your eyes first. You’d expect to want to run away but you didn’t, you were quite happy just sitting there looking at the stars in the quiet. Although a little nervous, seeing Ivar behind him calmed your nerves tenfold.

Hvitserk remained stood whilst Ivar pulled himself up to be sat beside you, taking his fur off and wrapping around your shoulders although you already have your own on, you appreciated the kind gesture. Jealousy was written allover Hvitserks face, as he scowled at his brother.

“Well say something brother” Ivar bit, he rolled his eyes at the other man who remained silent, yet to even mutter a word.

“Ivar, it’s okay. I’ll speak.” You gently placed your hand on Ivars wrist giving it a squeeze. Hvisterk wanted nothing more then for his little brother to go away, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen. He hadn’t even been able to see you for three months. His brother forbid it. He’d been nothing but spiteful towards him, which he deserved.

Hvitserk looked at you, hopeful to still see some form of loving gaze toward him but there was none. And his heart sunk.

“Hvitserk, it’s been three long months since you betrayed me and betrayed our love. You shattered my heart into a million pieces. I do not understand if you were so unhappy with being my partner then why not just end things. I now have new worries & insecurities due to your actions, I doubt that I will ever be good enough for anyone anymore. If it hadn’t of been for your brother I don’t know where I’d be now. Probably still fawning after you making a fool out of myself. But, I shall not. You will forever hold a piece of my heart, that I will say. I loved you Hvitserk and a part of me always will. I’m unsure as to if you ever loved me as I could not possibly do the things that you have done to me. But all I ask is why?” Your voice remained a level tone. No hate was spat at the man. You couldn’t bring yourself to be so unkind.

Ivar was beyond proud of you, although he was full of anger toward his brother you remained calm, having seen how you screamed into your furs, how you threw things and how you cried behind the closed door of your hut when it first happened, you had come so far. He could only wish to ever deal with things the way you had just done.

Hvitserk sucked in a breath, almost to stop his voice from wobbling. He had lost you, through his own foolish, greedy actions.

“Y/n my lov-“ he started but you cut him off, “you’ve no right to call me that anymore.” His eyes watered, but he held his composure the best he could infront of you and his brother.

“Y/n, I love you. My gods i love you. But I had been foolish. I had been tempted by a woman and slipped into my old ways, she persisted and I gave in. I have no excuse for doing what I did, and I shan’t makeup one. You deserve better then that. These past three months have been torment. I just wanted to hold you feel your warm flesh against mine again. I had known you were too good for me. I fear you hate me now. I can’t live without you at least speaking to me.” He spoke carefully, his voice timid as if he was getting told off. Ivar scoffed and you placed your hand once again on his arm to stop him.

“I don’t hate you, I don’t hate anyone. As I had said a piece of me will always hold onto you, and it will pain me. But I shall learn to live with it. I will speak to you if the situation permits it but I shan’t make an effort. I cannot hide away anymore. I am friends with Ivar and that won’t stop. Whether you like it or not. I hope you live a happy life. But please promise me, don’t hurt another woman like this. Make sure you love her and you love her hard. Never make her feel the way you have made me feel. Goodbye Hvitserk.” With that you hopped off of the table, and bowed your head. He was to you now a prince of Kattegat and you would respect him as such. But he wasn’t your Hvisterk anymore and you had started to finally come to terms with it.

Ivar followed you back to your hut, you were still so unbelievably grateful for him. So once you got back although late, you set about making the man a warm pie as to thank him for tonight. Ivar had perched himself on your bed as your hut was small and you could see the kitchen from where he was easily enough. He watched you carefully as you made the food and chatted away to him, his heart fluttered at you. He had fallen so unbelievably in love with you, but knew to keep it to him self whislt you went through what your going through, he knew deep down that you were meant to be his. He’d never felt this way about anyone. Your the only person that he would protect wholeheartedly, even against his own brother.

The small space was filled with the warm sent of your baked good, it was warm and cozy due to the fire burning away in the centre. Ivar could get used to this. He’d never known the true feeling of home, always feeling out of sorts around his brothers. But here, he was comfortable. He was warm and he could look at you all he wanted. He’d never understand why Hvitserk did what he did, and in someways he was glad.

He could finally get you to himself.

You grabbed two spoons once the pie had cooled off abit, bringing it to where Ivar sat wrapped in your bed furs. Intending it to be a nice late night treat and a thanks to Ivar.

“It smells delicious” Ivar smiled at you taking the warm pie into his hands so you could slip in next to him. “Why don’t we just use the same spoon, saves on dishes” he laughed, “Ivar I don’t mind washing it it’s just a spoon-“

“No if we share we will do it properly” he said as he scooped up some sweet filling and pastry, holding it up for you to take the first bite. A feeling was brewing as you looked at Ivar, but it was a different feeling, one you hadn’t experienced before. A warm feeling, no rampid butterfly’s. A safe, warm, glowing feeling toward Ivar. You’d soon find out. That it was love starting to form for the man, true love.

#ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar x reader #ivar lothbrok #vikings imagine #vikings #hvitserk x reader #hvitserk imagine

[cherryjuicegf]

"You've been crying."

Jaskier laughs as Geralt sits beside him on the pebbles and raises his eyebrows, not looking at him still. "Now you can tell the salt of tears from that of the sea too?"

A light hum. "Always could."

A red ray escapes the setting sun and hits the waves, making the tears in his eyes melt as they mirror it. He sniffles and wipes at the trails his previous crying had pathed on his cheeks, and puts on a brave smile. Not really a smile. A curve of lips, at least, because Geralt is here now, the warmth of his body resembling a lit hearth, and it's a kind of comfort. Always has been.

Except. Geralt is staring at him.

Geralt is waiting.

And it's nothing, it really is. Jaskier likes to convince himself it is trivial, because how else could he mend a broken heart, if not with lies. The truth just seems too far out of reach.

But maybe now he is tired. And maybe in another time he wouldn't talk about it, he would only smile wider but now Geralt's stare is so gentle, and his eyes so safe like the sun on a spring's day.

"I feel like I've been missing, you know," he says at last and looks at him straight, soft, because Geralt really does know. "On love. And it's been too long."

What Geralt doesn't know, perhaps, is the way his heart clenches inside his chest and curls on itself like a child punished in the corner. So he frowns. "You? Jaskier, you can have anyone you want. I've seen you." Then, a smile, almost fond. "You fall in love with everyone."

Everyone, everyone. Anyone. Anyone there is. Anyone who looks like maybe, maybe, they will stay, or he is just too careless at this point that he tries anyway. A heart that never has too much. He knows they won't stay. And he knows the one who will stays for a different reason. So, so close.

He smiles, bittersweet, and lowers his look. "Yes, indeed. Everyone." Everyone, she sent a letter today. Never to meet again, never to be seen. Jaskier shakes his head. "And me? Who of all them has fallen in love with me, Geralt?" As if to answer his question, a seabird cries along. The sea, too, a cruel mistress. His voice quivers. "I feel like a desperate dog chasing love, while running from it all the same."

With the corner of his eye he sees Geralt parting his lips and a fake hope blooms in his chest, fading at once when he holds back, and stays silent. And he can only bask in the imagined possibility of what he intended to say.

The tears are done with him now. Only numbness remains.

Eventually, Geralt speaks. "If it is any helpful, no one has ever been in love with me either." The lightness in his voice sounds exactly like the pained strings mending Jaskier’s heart.

But oh, what a foolish man. Jaskier can't help but smile and turn at him, and for a bit he remembers that lonely as it is, he can't stop loving. "Well, that's just not true. I'm in love with you."

As though he doesn't know, as though it's not as simple as it was uttered, Geralt flinches. Jaskier chuckles and averts his gaze again, a little happier than before. Love, it is simple. It's what he does.

Just not something that happens to him.

"Well, then," he hears after some moments, "that makes us even."

He laughs before he thinks. "It does?" And then.

His head spins at once, eyes wide as they meet Geralt's, almost afraid. No, not afraid. Unbelieving. It's been so long, you see. But Geralt only rolls his eyes, oh so fondly, and before Jaskier manages to splutter any words sweet lips are on his, and a hand holding his nape. And it's not like other times. Not like everyone else. It's certain and terrifying and deep like a promise, like two stray roots finding each other through the earth and keeping their living hearts bound forever. Like what he has been craving for so long he forgot he may one day have it. Like Geralt.

And then, as though to seal it, this promise, Geralt pulls back and looks at him like he always does and Jaskier wonders, wonders how this that he never caught stands right here, catching itself. Geralt smiles, voice soft as a feather. "I'm in love with you, Jaskier." And that's it. Simple as that.

His eyes are burning again and Jaskier can only nod, and smile back. And it's almost funny, almost tender how love happens to be so close, so close he can taste its kiss without even trying, just for once.

Just for once, how love happens to him.

#pots and pans i think love is something that happens to other people by michael gray sobbing weeping #the witcher #geraskier #jaskier #geralt of rivia #geralt x jaskier #chrysa writes #i'm as surprised as you are friends #fic recs #fluff #anyway how about this. loving the unloved

[vashtijoy]

fic excerpt: goro and his mother

I keep needing to refer to this one, so here it is. WARNINGS for childhood abuse (poor, poor Mamakechi is not at her best here).

* * *

The summer Goro turns six, his mother packs their few things into plastic laundry bags, and she ties up their futon and quilt with string, and the two of them leave their single room in Shinjuku for a single room some way to the east, in a place called Yoshiwara. Asakusa and the huge red lantern of Senso-ji Temple are nearby to the south, but Goro and his mother don’t live anywhere so rarefied.

The other rooms in the house hold students, casual workers, foreigners. Goro peeps out of their door to talk to them all. Some ignore him, and he ignores them in return. Others are nice—the older boy who lends him manga, the girl who gives him sweets and ties ribbons in his hair, the foreigners whose words he only sometimes understands. And then there’s the old lady who lives on the top floor by herself.

Her name is Migata-san. She has her own kitchen and her own bathroom, when the rest of them have to share, just like in Goro’s old home. She wears a puffy, quilted vest all the time, and sits in front of her TV. Goro doesn’t have a TV any more; in the winter his mother took it away and it never came back. And since the landlord—who is strident and impatient and everything Migata-san is not—shouts at him when he sees him, Goro often finds himself creeping straight upstairs to Migata-san’s tiny apartment.

His mother leaves him there every afternoon anyway. He reads anything he can find, or takes his borrowed manga, or he sits in front of the TV, and Migata-san feeds him riceballs and cake. The TV rotates through daytime dramas, talk shows, adverts and news, but when something good comes on, Migata-san will let him watch it. Fly, Feather Swan! No, Grey Pigeon, I won’t forgive you!

“I could do that,” he tells Migata-san, watching the Feathermen fly about against a painted-looking stormy sky, and she laughs at Goro while he scowls.

“Oh, no,” she tells him, in the stupid grown-up voice. “Those things only happen on television. How about some milk?”

He accepts the milk, still sulking. But he doesn’t drop the idea.

* * *

When his mother finally comes home in the evenings, she’s tired and seems sick; things aren’t like they used to be. Instead of talking to him while she makes soup and rice over a tiny electric ring, she brings frozen boxes from the konbini and puts them in the microwave. They eat side by side in silence, sitting on the rolled futon.

Goro eats his frozen curry steadily, glancing sideways to his mother. She’s picking at her food like she doesn’t want it. “Why are you sad?” he dares to ask, afraid of upsetting her.

His mother doesn’t look at him. “I’m not sad, Goro-chan. Eat your food.”

He looks back to his bowl. The curry is bright orange. He picks some into his mouth: little red chopsticks, with the rubber grip holding them together. It tastes of a lot, but he doesn’t complain, not when she’s sad.

Are we going home soon? He can’t ask her that, either. He tries to think of something to tell her, making his slow way through his curry. Nothing that will make her lonely. Nothing that will make her cry. Nothing that will make her—

“I’m going to be a superhero,” he says brightly.

She glances to him. She looks right into his eyes and she smiles. “Is that what you’ve been doing today?”

“Mm-hm,” he tells her, riveted to that tiny, flickering smile. “Then you won’t have to work all the time, right? I’ll do everything. I’ll look after you and I’ll fight evil”—sharp eyes staring from a soapbox, a face he used to point out on the TV before the TV vanished, a name he still remembers with a child’s fascination—“and I’ll keep you safe for always, and I’ll always win!”

He runs out of breath and laughs, caught up in the brilliant future he’s painting for her, that he more than half believes in. He only remembers the point of it all when she laughs too, leaning back against the wall. “My little hero,” she tells him. And, still as if she’s terribly tired, she reaches for Goro’s blanket—a new, soft, blue blanket, small enough for him to wear around his shoulders, one of the new things that has made its way into their room.

She removes the brooch pinned at her collar, a glittering snowflake left from their old life, and she pins the blanket around his neck, folding the excess down into a collar. One thin hand gentles his hair aside, strokes his face; he presses against her like a kitten, and she lifts his bowl from his suddenly precarious lap.

Goro feels her happiness like his own. “There,” she says, glowing. “Now you have a cape.”

He beams at her. “Is it a bird cape? I want to be a bird superhero. Like Feather Hawk.”

“Ah, that depends,” his mother says, taking his chopsticks and propelling some curry into his mouth. “Can you fly?”

Goro opens his mouth to reply, and she closes it with her free hand; that’s another thing that’s new. He chews dutifully and swallows. “Of course I can fly,” he dictates. “All the Feathermen can fly.”

“Are you sure?” she asks him. “Maybe you aren’t as good as Feather Hawk, hm?” And then she pops another scoop of curry into his mouth, so he can’t even protest, other than through closed lips; she laughs and kisses him on top of his head.

“I am as good as Feather Hawk,” he informs her when he can talk. “I’m better.”

“Of course you are,” she tells him, with another kiss, feeding him the last of his curry. Her own bowl lies half-full beside her. “You’re my little boy. And you’re going to save the world.”

* * *

After that, Goro plays hero a lot. He wraps himself in his blanket cape and shouts Feather Wing Star Formation!, until the landlord knocks on the door. His mother sleeps all morning, while Goro reads the manga she brings him herself now, and she vanishes to work in the afternoon, when Goro goes upstairs to Migata-san; upstairs to wonder where his mother is, why he can’t stay alone in their room when she works any more, like he always did.

One morning, while his mother is dead asleep, Goro finishes his manga and looks around for something else to read, eventually pulling his mother’s glossy magazine from the table. He isn’t supposed to read it, for reasons that to him seem wholly arbitrary, so he’s careful to leaf through the pages as quietly as he can.

The magazine is creased and old-looking like his manga, and full of tiny text, much of which Goro cannot understand. So he guesses the words he doesn’t know: stories about fashion models and clothes and makeup and dragons, although something tells him he’s read “dragons” wrong. The whole thing smells like his mother. At least—it smells like his mother used to smell, like her perfume. These days she just smells of soap and sweat.

She doesn’t send Goro out by himself at night any more, either. That’s probably good, he thinks uncertainly; it was scary to run down the back alleys by himself, scarier to hide behind the bins so the police wouldn’t see him. But he misses the bathhouse. He misses Boss, who'd let Goro sit up front as his assistant, who’d set out piles of coins for him to count and watched him in the bath.

Looking down unhappily, he spies a piece of paper poking out from under the unrolled futon.

Part-curious, and very bored, he gives it a tug. It moves. Another, more careful tug, and the paper is in his hand. It’s a letter in his mother’s writing. A date, on the left—he knows from Migata-san’s TV that it’s yesterday’s—and a name, lots of big kanji, he can’t begin to make them out. But he sees his mother’s name right next to it, Akechi Mari, half of his own name right next to her loopy kana. At the top, there’s something about frost, and then the writing gets much worse—fortunately most of it is still kana.

The letter talks to somebody called Masa-sama. She talks about their room, he thinks, and about her job; she makes them sound bad. We have no money, he reads, over and over. Goro is a beautiful boy. He’s obedient and clever. Any man would be proud to call him his son. He reaches out, with one tentative hand, to touch those words.

The letter has been crumpled into a ball, and then unfolded; he tries to flatten it, with careful strokes of his baby hands. He reads it again, and again, and again. Any man would be proud to call him his son.

He has no idea his mother is awake. Not until a hard hand grabs his shoulder and shakes him, tearing the letter from him. “Give me that!” his mother yells as she hits him, right around his head, hard against his ear with the flat of her hand. Goro screams and falls to the floor, clutching the side of his head, and as he dissolves into tears and confusion he sees his mother crying too, tearing the letter like a typhoon, smaller and smaller and smaller pieces that she throws and screams at and hurls into the bin.

* * *

Before long, Migata-san comes downstairs, and she knocks on the door, and without a word she takes Goro upstairs, still sobbing, while his mother sobs in a heap on their floor. He sits on his usual cushion, still hiccuping sobs, as Migata-san clucks to him and washes his face and hands.

“There we are,” she says, beady eyes like a bird. “How about some hot milk? And a cake?” Goro nods his head yes, not meeting her eye.

He’s clever. You’d be proud of him. Was that letter to his father?

Your father is a monster! he remembers her shouting, back at the old room when he was small. She had hit him then, too.

Why is his mother writing to a monster? When even talking about him makes her so upset she cries and she hits Goro? They must be in terrible trouble. Is that why she’s asking Goro’s father for money?

… has his father got money?

Goro doesn’t realise that he and his mother are poor. But he knows they aren’t rich, that his mother works every day, works so hard she sleeps all the time and has no time for him. He adds it to his picture of his father: a monster, a rich man. A man who’s somewhere else when he should be with Goro and his mother. A man his mother calls Masa-sama, like he’s a king.

And that evening, when he’s finally home, when his mother is in the toilet and not coming out, he sneaks the fragments of paper with his father’s name out of the bin.

#persona 5 #things i write #goro akechi #mamakechi #masayoshi shido

[chocmoon-latte]

Another reason why I think Hancock would have a crush on the Sole Survivor besides the obvious fact that you're out here helping the people of the Commonwealth, or how he thought you were an innocent vault dweller who needed protecting, is the fact that he's finally got someone he can be emotionally vulnerable with. Being the mayor of such a dangerous place like Goodneighbor means he needs to keep up a reputation to match it. There's no room for him to be soft or emotional in a place like this.

He's happy when strangers know who he is for having reputation that precedes him for being deadly because it eliminates any chances of someone out there possibly getting the idea that he might actually have a sweeter, more caring side. That's one of the main reasons why he even killed Finn in the first place. But he WANTS to be able to express softness. The problem is just that Goodneighbor isn't the place to do it, and a lot of the kinds of people you find in the Commonwealth in general aren't really the greatest types to be emotionally open towards anyways. In a world like this, it's something that could very easily be held against him.

He tells you that it's lonely being mayor and that he's running out on the good things and people he's got. He tells you that he's always been the one telling others to keep the emotion out of relationships in the past, but here he is being open and emotional with you. He says that everyone is entitled to some softness, himself included… but after he opens up to you about running out on the good things in his life, he asks you not to tell anyone else. Not necessarily because of the fact that it's personal, but because of the fact that he's afraid of word spreading around about this more emotionally vulnerable side of him and that people will think he's crazy for it (and as a side note, let's be honest, we've all seen how society on a larger scale views emotionally vulnerable men as weak).

A lot (not all) of his contradicting ideals when you first meet him make so much more sense when you look at him through the lens of a man desperately trying to conceal and repress the more sensitive side to him. The way he just lets you get away with so much during The Big Dig questline, even if you take your time to do every little thing against him. It's obvious that he doesn't really care all too much about punishing you - he just likes knowing he still has the power to make people frantically scramble to please him, because it helps uphold his reputation.

If there's one thing Hancock hates being more than anything, it's being powerless and weak. His biggest traumas come from how he was unable to protect the ghouls in Diamond City from being exiled or protect the drifters in Goodneighbor from being abused by Vic. If people in the Commonwealth knew there was a softer side to him, a large majority of the more dangerous organizations, especially the ones operating in his town, would consider him weak. If Hancock was considered a weak leader, then he wouldn't be considered fit to protect the innocent people that he so sworn to protect.

It's always baffled everyone how Hancock doesn't show any sadness when it comes to the death of Fahrenheit or finding out his brother was replaced by a synth and killed years prior, but I'm starting to wonder if we've been looking at it the wrong way this entire time. Maybe Hancock's lack of being visibly upset over them had nothing to do with Bethesda making poor writing decisions (they kind of do tbh), but had everything to do with him repressing his emotions.

So when he gets to travel with YOU the player, who has no prior knowledge of him, his reputation or past (and you aren't just another citizen he has to put on a show for) he feels like he can let his walls down around you. He's allowed to be emotionally vulnerable because he doesn't have to pretend to BE someone for you, and in turn, he feels like he doesn't have to run anymore.

(That was a lot sorry but I tend to get my thoughts out better in the form of long ramblings. Honestly there's so many ways he can be interpreted though, but I guess this is just somewhat of an analysis/me theorizing a little)

#the way he immediately drops the deep tough guy voice once he's available to be your companion is very telling #And how he's always making jokes to hide his feelings #Or how when you romance him and then proceed to do bad things he tells you about how it's not easy to confront you about it #goodneighbor has not been good to his mental health #I don't care what anyone else says he needs a good cry whilst being tenderly held #This isn't me saying he's an uwu baby who can do no wrong but he just needs a healthy outlet to express himself better you know? #Hancock has emotional guy forced to repress deeper feelings due to trauma (and probably societal standards) vibes #fallout #fallout 4 #hancock #ramblings #analysis/theory I guess?

[rigatoniiiiiiii]

I posted this before but tumblr was being weird so I had to delete and then repost ^^’

So im curious about what R, Y, B, and G could have seen in the black hole during episode 30.

what do we know about the void?

- we know it’s mostly empty, except for the individual and a place/symbol of emotional importance to the person.

A good example of this is mango’s void, where it’s only him and an empty house, a place where mango spent most of his time planning vengeace and festering in rage and grief.

- usually the subject of the void has to deal with some sort of regret or inner struggle. For mango, it was his empty lonely house, with only himself and the angry violent pictures scribbled on the wall.

For purple, it was a completely dark and empty space, with the only light highlighting them and the petals falling around them. A reminder that they are completely alone, no father around and a dead mother.

- each of these voids/spaces are likely places where their deepest and most hurtful thoughts manifest their surroundings. And it’s hard to break through to these spaces, but it can be done, as mango demonstrated.

So, given what we know, what would RGBY’s voids be like? They were also in the void for a brief period of time before second was able to save the day, so what would they have seen?

Of course it’s all hypothetical, but I think it presents an interesting way to try and visualize and analyze each of the CG’s flaws and insecurities, and how they might find hope in response to that.

Reblog/share your theories!! I think this is very interesting. I’ll put my personal ideas under the cut, but go wild :)

Red: I think Red’s void would be about their character flaw of rushing into situations without thinking/letting others know about mews plan, and how their friende get hurt as a result of that. It could also be about how Red’s feelings have been continually dismissed by the CG (but specifically Second) and how Red feels because of that.

Blue: xer space would involve guilt over indirectly causing harm to his friends. Between the many accidents with potions, the nether incedents, the witch event, and starting off the S3 arc, he probably feels like xes done a lot of damage. Maybe he is afraid that they will get hurt/reject xem because of this.

Yellow: in past episodes, yellow’s power in situations has come from knowledge. For example, theres the entire arcade game episode, the lucky block episode, redstone, learning to fight with a command block. Yellow always wants to learn more, and the result of that curiosity and intelligence is the ability to help/give to yellows friends. So it would stand to reason that yellow would be very insecure and helpless in a situation where yellow couldn’t learn anything. There is no knowledge to be gained, no secret code or strategy to find a way out. But yellow can see the CG being hurt, and yet yellow is powerless and can’t help them. I imagine yellow would feel absolutely helpless.

Green: im.. honestly not too sure about green? It feels like there’s a lot to work with, and not enough to work with. I dont feel i have a good enough grasp on his character/insecurities. Some possible ideas i had were the amount of times green has died, or greens flaw of being a bit too show-offy. Green is definetly one I would like to hear everyone’s thoughts about!

And i know second didn’t get voided, so its even more hypothetical, but i think if second DID fall into the black hole, their space would either be about their powers (which would be confusing and distressing for him), about all their friends dying again like in the showdown and second being powerless to stop it, or maybe even himself being the reason its friends are hurt. However I also think second would be the first to break out of its void, and the first to get to their friends and bring them together, and tell them how much he cares for them, no matter what the void showed.

Anyways yeah thank you for reading!! Just some thoughts I had :) im curious to hear everyone’s theories!

Tagging @lunafandoms !

#animation vs minecraft #animator vs animation #ava #avm #alan becker #avm king orange #avm mango tango #ava purple #avm purple #ava green #avm green #ava red #avm red #ava yellow #avm yellow #ava blue #avm blue #ava the second coming #avm the second coming

[jokers-bat]

All My Joker Headcanons (that I have so far, mostly involving 2004 Joker and UTRH Joker)

Warning, this is long but I hope you like it anyway!

2004 Joker

Likely has experience in gymnastics or dancing at some point in his past (possibly in childhood or teen years). That, or he was a theater kid.

Is capable of doing SOME good…As long as there’s something in it for him!

Can wear shoes and/or socks but prefers not to because he’s more confident when barefoot.

Chaotic evil…With maybe a small pinch of empathy?

Takes very good care of his hair. Will sometimes steel shampoo, conditioner, hair brushes, combs and other hair products to keep it clean and healthy. 

You know he’s sad or upset when he goes for hours without laughing. 

He’s often mistaken for being clueless or ignored and dismissed as some find him annoying, but he’s actually very observant and a lot smarter than others give him credit for. 

Knows Arkham Asylum inside and out…No matter what kind of cell they put him in, he always figures out how to escape. It’s like a game or puzzle to him!

He’s your best chance at escape if you and him are ever imprisoned somewhere.

He and Penguin are rivals…But he is the closest thing to a friend he’s ever had and he’s not good at expressing that.

Side note to that, he’s not good at socializing or at making or keeping friends. He’d rather pull pranks than simply ‘hangout’ with people. He’s surprised when Harley or his thugs sticks around but is secretly relieved that they did and do.

…Sometimes he’s lonely…

Still has no memory of the whole ‘Gotham cemetery’ incident, but he doesn’t like people touching his neck now. The idea of someone putting their mouth on his neck terrifies him. Penguin and Batman are the only ones who understand it though. 

Hides in his room or cell when he cries. He has a lot of bad memories with people seeing him vulnerable and doesn’t trust anyone to see him in that state. 

Under The Red Hood/Death in The Family Movies Joker 

Remember that friend your mom used to ask if you’d jump over a cliff for if they told you to do it? Yeah, HE’S that friend! 

Whatever you do, DO. NOT. Tell him you’re not afraid of anything! He will take that as a challenge and try to figure out what scares you! 

Don’t TELL HIM your phobias either! Chances are, he’ll use them to prank you. 

Side note, nothing scares Joker…Nothing really grosses him out either…You could get sick and throw up on or near him and he won’t judge you for it, but he’ll NEVER let you forget it either. 

Nuclear evil and a certified asshole.

If he considers you a friend, he’s your bodyguard for life…Seriously, he’ll offer to kill anyone who bullies or harms you. 

Not gossipy, but loves witnessing drama and absolutely will not help the situation. For example:

Y/N: “Joker, do something!!” 

Joker: “I am doing something!” (heats up popcorn in the microwave) 

He loves his crowbar and thinks he can solve most problems with it. Usually anything that could involve hitting someone with it or use it to break into something.

You know it’s bad and/or you’re in big trouble if Joker is concerned.

Secretive about his own past. Open about his brief time as the Red Hood, but nothing before that. Either he doesn’t remember his life before that or he keeps it to himself. 

Finds everything funny. Life is never boring for Joker!

No one knows if he feels sadness, fear, or regret. If he does feel them, he doesn’t show it…

Reliable horror movie buddy! Will watch scary movies with you any day and will aways bring snacks.You’ll scream, but he’ll laugh. For him, horror is comedy!

When you call him, his response is somewhere along the lines of: “Whatever it is, I didn’t do it!” or “It wasn’t me!”

Never give this man anything made out of glass!

One of the few who can stay calm and level-headed in serious situations. 

Usually gives unhelpful and borderline homicidal advice. Some highlights: “Why don’t you just send him a text that says ‘Fuck you, I’m staying home today?’”, “We can always kill him.”

Other comments he’s made: “I don’t know whose crazier. Me, or the people who hangout with me.”, “Why would you trust ME with anything?”

Joker Headcanons in general: 

Being friends with Joker is not easy.

He’s the biggest asshole you’ve ever known but he’ll remember your birthday, your favorite treats and your interests till the day he dies. 

Halloween and April 1st are always an adventure with Joker! 

He might not have accepted Batman’s offer to redeem him in TKJ, but he appreciated it. The man he was before may be gone, but there’s just enough of him left to know Joker couldn’t change that easily. 

That same part of him hates himself and what he’s become more than anything else. 

More than likely has a lot of unresolved issues. Past traumas, possibly mental health issues, etc.

Even if Joker did accept Batman’s offer and genuinely wanted to redeem himself, he has so many bad habits to get rid of and even more demons to face. Not necessarily impossible, but would be extremely difficult and might not be completely successful. 

If he has any family, he doesn’t have contact with them. Mostly for their own safety, not putting it past his enemies to go after them for revenge against him, but more so because he doesn’t want them to know who he is or what he’s done (basically, they think he’s dead and don’t know he’s become the Joker). 

Even if someone DID care about Joker and he cared about them, he’d drive them away because, one, he doesn’t himself (either he’ll hurt them or they’ll somehow get hurt because of him), two, he knows he’s dangerous and that he’s an evil monster and doesn’t think anyone could or would actually care about him, and finally, being hated and feared is easier than navigating relationships. 

He does in fact have feelings for Batman but it’s very complicated.

Joker should really have a non-lethal, non-criminal hobby-and he probably does…But he doesn’t have enough free time to do them…

He’s the guy who’d piss off politically powerful people just for the fun of it.

#batjokes #the batman 2004 #the joker #under the red hood #dc joker #joker #batman x joker #joker thoughts

[bozzowl]

Farmworld Finn Dominant and Jealous NSFW !!!

-as requested, there's no drawing with this one but here ya go! :D

It was almost dusk, a slight chill in the air as the stars begin to twinkle their way into the night sky. You were helping Choose Bruce, (the farmworld version of Choose Goose). You were stocking the shelf while he was fixing the stand table again. His shop keeps getting destroyed to the point he got himself a weapon and keeps stuff to repair it nearby. Finn Mertens was just around the corner, keeping an eye on you two. There was nothing between you and Bruce, he just offered you some stuff in return for helping him keep his shop up and going. you would also go out and find things for him to barter with the customers. Even though Bruce had helped Finn in the past when he was little, Finn didn't like that you were spending so much time with him. With someone else.

You did not know why he had felt this way, especially when you go out with your friends or when some guy happened to be talking to you. Finn always seemed to disapprove of this.

Finn's POV: Why do they go out of their way to hangout with him? What does Bruce or anyone else have that I don't? Can't they see that I'm the only one who can really protect them? That I'm the only one who would do anything for them?

He felt that sick, boiling feeling. That internal irritation, narrowing his eyes whenever he saw someone else with you. Suspicious of anyone who seemed a little too friendly towards you. Ever since he had lost his wife, it was hard to find that sort of connection. That safety and security you feel when you are in love. Especially considering his upbringing. He was a proud father, yet such a lonely man who became wary of outsiders. You were the only other person who could come so close, who could understand him. You were so kind, and beautiful in his eyes. You sparked that old flame in his heart that used to burn for someone else. Now it burns for you, and he was so afraid of losing you. Losing you to someone better than him.

You wipe the sweat from your brow as you finish for the day. Everything was stocked up and fully repaired. Bruce handed you some trinkets for your hard work. An old cassette tape with the label worn from time, barely legible but might still work; a gold locket in the shape of a heart, scratched up without a picture inside as they often hold; and some food for you preserved in jars, along with some herbs in case you needed them. With as often as you helped him, of course he'd occasionally find things he would assume you'd like. Especially since you were the only one helping him in these trying times.

You grabbed your new things and started walking home, heading on over to the corner of... well... the Destiny gang keeps spray painting the signs but it used to be called "King Street" and "Molly Lane". Which just so happened to be where Finn was standing. He was leaning against the wall, he did not look happy. With a hint of irritation in his voice, he says to you, "You're still hanging out with Choose Bruce?". You reassure him, "We're just friends, Finn, what's wrong with that?". Finn crossed his arms and looked away, "Nothing, just.... I don't like seeing him around you." You sigh, and proceed to walk home. Finn takes a deep breath, then heads home himself.

Later that night, after you had put everything away, you make dinner. With it just being you here, you did not have to fix much but you do so anyways. Even though Finn always had that soup cooking in that kitchen, he and his kids thought it was nice to have something different every now and then. However, that is because they liked your cooking. You make a large amount of your favorite food, and put it in a big pan to share with them. It was dark, so you grab your trusty lantern before heading out.

Finn was setting the table when he heard a knock at the door. He heads over and opens it slightly to see you "it's late, did you really come down here all by yourself?". You nod and hold up the pan, it smelled so good. Finn's eyes widen, he really liked your cooking. He holds the door open and steps aside. You and the Mertens enjoy dinner together. The kids tell you about their day and Jake the dog crawls up to the table hoping for scraps.

After dinner, the kids head to bed while you helped with the dishes. As you washed the plates, you could hear Finn reading a story to them. He was such a good father. He must've been a good husband too.

As you put up the last of the plates, Finn sneaks up behind you. Wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close from behind. You could feel the cold metal of his mechanical arm. The warmth of his breath against your neck as he whispered in your ear, "can you stay the night?". You blush, then nod in response. With the way he was pressed against your back, while gently nuzzling your cheek, you knew where this was going. You turn around, then cup his cheeks as you pull him into a kiss. Feeling the bristles of his beard as your lips touched his. He held you tight. Beefy, toned muscles pressed against you during the embrace. His hand slowly drifts down to your waist. Your hands lower to caress his chest. Then suddenly he scoops you up, taking you to his bedroom.

He throws you down on the bed. Pulling off his white tank top and undoing his pants. You follow along, tossing your shirt aside and removing any other garments. Now fully exposed, you get on all fours. Ready to heed his every command. Finn was wearing nothing but his metal arm and some briefs. A firm bulge had formed on his groin area. With a smile he whispered, "You're gonna have to take it out." He leaned closer and growled seductively, "and don't stop unless I tell you to~". You obeyed, pulling his briefs down to reveal a girthy member. Hardened and ready for a kiss from you. You lick the shaft, from the balls to the tip. Occasionally kissing it along the way. Kissing the tip before taking him into your mouth. Finn groaned, feeling your hot wet mouth around him. You suck him off, bobbing your head. His breathing gets a little heavier. He smirked, he liked seeing you like this, "keep going~". He kept telling you how good you were, how good you make him feel. Then he tilts his head, you could see the gears turning in his head when you glanced up at him. He smirked, "ok, pull off and lay down. I want you to spread your legs~".If you didn't listen, he'd spank you and tell you how naughty you were. He would make you beg, then proceed to make you moan. You were his, and he wanted you to know that every night you two were together. He positions himself with you before slapping his member against your entrance. You nod to tell him you're ready, then he slips into you. Pumping in and out of you, slapping against you with a slight grinding motion. Finn groans, closing his eyes as he takes in every moment of being inside you. You felt soo good to him. He then rolls over with you still connected to him. He orders you to bounce, and you do so. bouncing up and down his throbbing cock. Bringing him closer to release inside of you. He smiled at you, watching that hot and horny expression you give when you feel good. You could feel the sweat dripping down your back, a knot forming in your stomach. He knew you were close. So he roll his hips in sync with you until you came. and when you did, he grabbed your waist and released his hot seed inside you with mighty thrust.

Two tired bodies covered in sweat, you pull off and lay on his chest. Huffing, thighs trembling as you two lay together. He holds you. He tells you how you did such a good job. You smile, then drift off to sleep in his arms. Finn brushed a strand of hair from your face, smiling at you before closing his eyes. Falling asleep with you.

#fanfics #adventure time #x reader #farmworld finn x reader #farmworld finn

[rnisa]

More L x Reader Headcanons: Getting Close

These have been sitting in my drafts for someone who requested, but sadly, I completely went off-track and didn't even answer their request...so I'm posting these here because apparently my reading comprehension is cheeks LOL. Person who requested NSFW L, it's coming I promise!!!

Because this was meant for something else and went into another direction, it's a bit janky and doesn't make sense. Still, was worthless in my drafts for a while...^^

★ I think he has a low sex drive, however I do NOT think L is sex repulsed. At all. I think he does enjoy sex, he just doesn't feel sexual attraction based on appearance alone. L would begin to form attraction to you as he gets to know you. Being physically beautiful isn't enough, and won't do much for him. He can acknowledge when someone is stereotypically attractive, but he looks inward.

★ I mean...he is literally the equivalent of men who don't have a bedframe. Actually, L IS the dude without a bedframe. He doesn't exactly want a model.

★ L is a bit of an anomaly when it comes to love. He is capable of loving. He does not think you need the stereotypical nuclear family to be happy, and he would never just intentionally seek someone out - but he finds himself getting lonely at times. His attitude is that if it happens, it happens. He knows he's unlikely to find a partner, but he wouldn't fully reject it.

★ Getting close to L isn't easy considering he is often cooped up inside. While the scenario of him falling for an agent helping him with a case is always classic and sweet, I could honestly see him falling for just a regular person.

★ I feel that either way, L would be afraid for you - similar to how super heroes have to be careful for their loved ones being put in danger due to them - L has that fear. He's worried something would happen to you, and it would be his fault. For this reason, I do think L would try to push you away. Hint at Matsuda or Light to sweep you up so he won't have his heart broken.

♡ Anyways...

★ Let's say L is interested in you. There would be teasing and bickering. Late nights staying up together (if you are working with him) and you two gradually grow close over time.

★ He falls for you, for you. Your mind, your soul. I don't think L experiences love often, it's a one-and-done. To get to that point takes much patience and time, so you two must have spent a lot of time together already, picking at eachothers brains and sharing deep thoughts.

★ Ironically, the two of you argue quite a bit, but that strengthens the attraction... somehow.

★ I have a scenario in mind where L is in the midst of pushing you away for your own safety. He knows what he wants, he knows he wants you, but what he wants more is for you to just be safe and not in harm's way.

★ For L you cannot let him do all the work. He would fantasize about holding your hand, and the two of you being happy together as a wholesome couple, but he doesn't want to make the first move unless he knows for sure, like, with verbal confirmation that YOU ARE INTERESTED. He's aware he looks "strange" to most NT people, and he fears coming off as "creepy" to you. He doesn't want to scare you away, as at this point if he caught feelings he already considers you a best friend.

★ He's good at reading people however, and if you wear your heart on your sleeve he will most likely catch on to the fact that you have a thing for him. He notices you put a bit more effort into your appearance, and that you smell extra good. He finds it amusing the way you stutter and laugh nervously to mask your emotions, and he can see right through you.

★ On one hand, he's elated. Who wouldn't be knowing their little crush returns the feelings? On the other, he's scared and wants you to just...go away.

★ He doesn't want the problems that come with a relationship as in, worrying about you, the possibility of losing you and the potential heartbreak that would follow.

★ Without much spoken confirmation the relationship happens...naturally. A bit awkward, but things fall into place...

★ You falling asleep near him, so he places you on the nearest couch and covers you with a blanket.

★ The two of you finding any excuse to touch eachother, you finding any excuse to talk to him even if you have nothing important to say. All the while he's asking you, "What do you think about Light Yagami?" , trying to push you into someone else's arms and guaging how you feel, pleasantly surprised that you're not interested.

★ You probably confess to him after a particularly difficult night. Maybe you're exhausted, exasperated, something bad happened. Perhaps you were out on the 'field', helping him with a case when he told you not to...you worried him the entire time. You argue before kissing him.

★ He's shocked and fires you, but you refuse to leave. It works out.

★ As mentioned before, you can't expect him to do all of the work initially. He is too afraid of making that first step (hurting you, offending you, being 'creepy') and he would rather you did something instead. He is over cautious of boundaries as he doesn't want to take any chances fucking things up.

★ With time, he will initiate getting close to you. He trusts that you would talk to him if you at all felt uneasy by his actions - communication is necessary with him!

#death note #death note x reader #l lawliet #l x reader #l lawliet x reader

[siriannatan]

Solutions to Insomnia - Scott fWhip

My quest to drag S1 fWhip through terrible situations with a comfort Scott on the since continues, it would seem…

fWhip could not sleep at all. Not an unusual occurrence. He became known for skipping sleep. Staying up later than healthy. Yawning and falling asleep in weird places. It became so normal even his closest allies, family stopped worrying. Just a fWhip thing, he'll be fine.

The only person who seemed to hate it was... fWhip himself.

He stared at the ceiling. Unable to sleep. Vaguely aware it was nearly midnight... So much for going to bed early. He stared at the ceiling and thought back to the worst moments of his accursed insomnia.  When and why he chopped his hair off and is still refusing to let anyone fix the mess it is. Not like anyone expects him to be put together in any way. Not like his allies cared if he was doing okay. They would just leave him sleeping in their meeting room and not even tell his advisors where he was. Sending all of Grimlands into a panic.

But that was two weeks ago. Things were fine even if Gem was still unhappy with the whole Rivendell alliance and fWhip's arranged marriage to the younger prince. But that was fWhip's business. And Sausage and Pearl voted yes. And it wasn't like he was anything special himself. No half-dragon. No wizard. No Pearl.

Just plain, normal fWhip with only his brain and a bad knee. Totally useless without his crossbow and explosives. Not like he could have any good ideas that did not involve explosives.

He sighed, turning to his side for what felt like the millionth time that night. Why can't he just sleep normally? Why did he have that unplanned nap earlier, after running one last time over this year's plan to get the heating in town for the upcoming winter.

fWhip was about to go and find something to read or do until he passed out when there was a knock on his balcony door. He was not expecting any guests tonight. None of his allies would come to him with any issues. With a yawn and heavy, exhausted steps fWhip walked up to the window. Not bothering with the lone robe tossed over a chair.

To his shock, on his balcony was none other than his fiance Scott of Rivendell. Looking at it all like he didn't just fly all the way from Rivendell. Which he had to have done to get to Grimlands before any note made it. If one was sent at all which it should. "Oh... Hello... I apologize if I woke you up..." the elf chuckled as always oozing confidence.

"I wasn't sleeping anyway..." fWhip shrugged totally not sure what to do with Scott. "I won't have angry elven military knocking on my door looking for you tomorrow?" he asked to start with. Just to be sure and let Scott inside. It was slowly getting chilly in Grimlands.

"No, no, I told my parents I want to visit you... Since we're supposed to get married and stuff..." Scott clarified, looking about the dark room. "I kind of underestimated how long it'd take to get here, I was not counting on making it for dinner but still not this late..." he chuckled nervously. Looking briefly at fWhip's messy bed.

fWhip hummed and nodded along. Forcing his brain to try and think if any guest rooms are ready at all and ready enough to house his future husband. Unfortunately, he rarely had guests. "Unfortunately I didn't have any guests lately so I'm afraid my guest rooms aren't quite suitable..." he sighed, messing his already messy hair even further. He couldn't even offer to give Scott his own bed in it's current state.

Scott just chuckled. "I don't mind sharing if you don't. We are supposed to get married, eventually," he hummed, shooting fWhip a smirk that could only be described as flirty. "We don't have to tell my brother, he'd flip over something as simple as just sleeping in the same bed," he added, still looking over in a very flirty manner.

"I'm afraid I'd make for a terrible bed mate." fWhip chuckled regretfully.

"Why so?" Scott asked with a raised eyebrow. His short coat was already off and hung over a chair.

fWhip chewed the words in his mouth for a second. "Insomnia. I have trouble falling asleep and sleeping," he said, deciding Scott should know ahead of time. 

The elf just giggled. A very nice sound to fWhip's exhausted brain. "Have you tried sharing a bed with anyone? It could help, let your brain relax, knowing you're not alone?" he offered, with another of his many layers being removed.

At this point, fWhip was ready to try anything to finally sleep well so he just shrugged and agreed. He could deal with consequences if anyone found them too early. And offered to loan Scott something to sleep in. The elf 'forgot' to pack anything. fWhip guessed he just wanted to leave the palace in Rivendell. Luckily at least some of fWhip's sleep clothes fit the elf. Why must Scott be so tall?

Once they were in bed, Scott wasted no time cuddling up to fWhip. He was cold but not unpleasantly. More like comfortably chilly. fWhip could quickly feel himself drifting away as Scott chattered about helping him fix his hair as he played with it. He just hummed along as he slowly fell asleep in Scott's arms. Probably his best sleep in a long time...

If he didn't have THE dream. A red sheep looking at him with big, black eyes. Unblinking. With nothing but an endless shallow sea of blood and red fog rolling about. Dark grey sky with no clouds or sun. Blood Sheep, words came to his mind on their own. Technically the main god of Grimlands...

fWhip could not move or do anything other than hold the Sheep's stare. It felt like an eternity and like just a few seconds at once when She let out an echoing 'baaa'. And the vision was over. And fWhip woke up. 

He was still in his bedroom. Still in Scott's arms. The sun has long risen. And fWhip felt rested like he never did. Weirdly thirsty...

#my stuff #my stories #empires smp #fanfiction #empiresshipping #empires fwhip #empires scott #scfwhip

[akechi-stole-my-heart]

Yusuke and Natsume live rent free in my mind, but especially Yusuke's final conversation with Joker about it. Yusuke asks Joker if Natsume is a criminal like Madarame, or if he's different, someone Yusuke is right to sympathize with. You can answer him either way or tell him "I don't know," and the game never really gives us an answer. Yusuke sees himself in Natsume, a kinship born from the two of them both being artists, but he's afraid to sympathize with someone unsympathetic. Madarame took advantage of him for so long, and I think Yusuke is afraid of repeating that mistake with Natsume.

But while the game doesn't give us an answer, I think the clear one is that Natsume is different from Madarame. For one, he holds no direct control over Yusuke. For another, he chooses to change his heart and give up the stolen desires of his own free will (like the rest of the Thieves' targets in Strikers). Natsume is someone who isn't completely blinded by his greed, at least not yet. All he needed was for one person to acknowledge the hard work he'd put in, acknowledge the struggle of creating art. Yusuke gave him that acknowledgment and made him feel that much less alone.

As Yusuke says, being an artist can be a terribly lonely endeavor. He says it's only because of his friends that he was able to escape the fate Natsume succumbed to, echoing his sentiment in the base game when he says he could have become like Akechi if he'd been alone. I think Yusuke has a lot of anger and bitterness inside him that he doesn't let show very often, emotions that stem from his years of being abused. Yusuke feels every emotion very strongly, as anyone can tell you. In joining the Thieves he found a healthy way to express those darker emotions, but without them it could have exploded, destroying himself and/or the people around him in the process.

Anyway. I love Yusuke and his compassion for Natsume, another artist who lived under the shadow of his predecessor, who similarly struggled to find his own voice. Natsume gave into temptation and became a plagiarizer like Madarame out of a desperation to be acknowledged. But Yusuke sees the humanity still inside Natsume and is able to save him by reaching out, and that's beautiful.

#p5s #yusuke kitagawa #ango natsume #p5 #persona 5 scramble #persona 5 strikers #sera posts #not the point but I have to add that akechi and natsume are So Similar tho. both of them want to be acknowledged so bad #and are willing to do horrible things to get there. just to get anyone to say their name (sorry the Beetlejuice reference was unintentional #strikers was made for akechi!!!!! god!!!! ugh!!!! AGH!!!!!

[lolotheparagon]

What are the various Rogues' opinions on Scarecrow's new daughters minions?

Riddler:

I know I’m the best supervillain Gotham has ever seen, but I always had a humble respect for Crane. The man has elicited terror and fear thoroughout Gotham for many years and is a profilic terrorist and scientist. So it baffles the mind that he has taken upon himself to be a parent, oh wait I mean (snickers) boss to a bunch of tiny pastel ponies so he can scare the whole populace. It’s almost comical how stupid that plan is. Oh sure, the average Neanderthal slumping around the streets would be scared of these sickeningly cute critters. But that’ll wear off soon enough and you don’t see Two-Face or Harley Quinn afraid of them! What will be your plan next? Face it, Crane. You just want to play house with these ponies because you’re so desperate to have a goal in your life, you’ve resorted to parenthood like a lonely housewife in a loveless marriage. Pathetic!…What? What do I think of the ponies themselves? What’s there to talk about? They’re annoying, disgustingly cute and clearly lack any intelligence whatsoever! They’re also relentless, whenever Crane’s not around, they always force me to partake in their juvenile games. Do I look like a babysitter to you?!

Penguin:

Don’t remind me of those little bastards. When I found out that the Scarecrow himself had employed these tiny ponies to be his minions, I was laughing for days. Look at ‘em, you’d think you can easily just kick those little tykes to the curb, swot ‘em like a fly. But no, not only are they immune to bullets, they took down half my men, tied me up in ribbons, put bloody makeup on me and turned my club into a BLOODY ICE RINK!! Ohhh, you think you’ve won this battle, Crane. Think you’ve humiliated me. But mark my words, once your back is turned and your mind focused on the Bat again, I’ll take your little ponies and put ‘em in a glue factory!

Two-Face:

Oh yeah, those little…things. (Shudders) Their cuteness is so overwhelming they creep me out NEXT WE SEE ‘EM, WE SHOOT THOSE CRITTERS AND SMEAR THEM ALL OVER THE WALLS. You’re just pissed off cos they did our makeup. THOSE LITTLE BITCHES DREW ALL OVER OUR FACE I know we look stupid but you don’t see me raging about it SHUT UP, HARV! NO ONE WILL TAKE US SERIOUSLY WHEN WE GO ON CRIME SPREES WITH THIS SHIT PLASTERED ON! No one took us seriously anyway. WE’RE MEN! MEN DONT WEAR MAKEUP!! WHAT ARE YOU, GAY?! …I really need therapy.

Poison Ivy:

Those ponies are herbivores, nature is part of their diet. Normally, I would be against them but I just can’t say no to kids. These little ones have an unspoiled innocence that I hope their time in Gotham would never taint it. I feel almost sorry for them. Crane is a smart man, but he is cold and ruthless, not exactly father of the year material. But it is rather amusing to see himself run ragged trying to keep a bunch of ponies in order. Especially that unicorn following him around like a puppy. He’s stuck with all of them for eternity so I can’t wait to see how this will unfold. My bet is that he’ll have a mental breakdown within a few months. And I’ll have front row seats.

Harley Quinn:

What?! Dr Crane has magical ponies as his kids?!. Oh my god, that’s hysterical!! Wow, I mean, I know the Bat beat you pretty bad and you’re out of ideas, but that is a whole new level of desperate! Whats next year’s Halloween’s plan, he’s gonna sic Starbright Sprinkle and Princesscake on us? Ohhh, I’m so scared! But ya know what, good for him for finding a new career that suits him: a fucking loser! By the way, which ranch did he get those ponies from? Cos I want one! In fact, Crane, can I have the pink one? No, wait, I’ll trade ya for the flying fairy one!

Catwoman:

I always see the little guys running around at the mall, playing dress up and terrifying thugs with their mere existence. Its funny to see a bunch of grown men terrified at something so cute. Honestly, I have no idea why Crane of all people is in custody of these ponies. To see the master of fear being a dad and a decent one to boot is…weird. I don’t know if he’s just putting it on to regain some scare factor or if he’s genuinely enjoying it, but at least the ponies seem happy. However, if he does put any of those kids in danger, I’ll tear his stitched ass apart.

Killer Croc:

Doesn’t matter, they’re all just food to me. Those little things don’t scare me. Nothing scares me. Not even, you, Crane.

Mr Freeze:

He has what? That is…concerning. I do hope those little ponies are treated properly. Are they well-fed? Do they have proper education? He doesn’t experiment on them, does he? No? Oh thank goodness. Well, are their mental and emotional needs met? Does he spend quality time with them? …Sorry, I have a few arctic hares that I keep as pets that I’ve grown very attached to over the last month. They’re like children to me. So I just hope Crane is taking the responsibilities of parenting seriously.

[dancingisdangerouss]

Hiii~ I saw your request post and I wanted to make one for Doc Ock. I was wondering if we could see Doc Ock becoming lonely in his hideout so he kidnaps one of his former students (female and shy please). She’s afraid out of her mind but he thinks it’s adorable. NSFW and fluff if that’s ok too? Thank you 🥰

Hello!~ It's been a while since I had been able to write for Doc Ock, so I was more than happy to do this request. I'm hoping it's decent; I'm realizing I'm not very good at doing quick little drabbles, as I have trouble condensing stuff and not dragging it out or adding a lot of details. Might have to start limiting requests to headcanons for a little while until I can catch up to speed with all the requests. But anyway! Hope this is along the lines of what you were looking for!

Warnings: Stalking, kidnapping, oral sex

Without Otto around to mentor her through her internship, Y/N had been graciously accepted to work under Harry Osborn with Oscorp Industries, so that she could complete her schooling.

Fondness bloomed in the deepest trenches of the doctor’s chest as he watched Y/N roll her eyes behind Harry’s back, unamused by his charms. It heated his aglid heart to see how much less she enjoyed the Osborn kid’s company than his own, her stiff smiles and forced laughs something he had never once seen from her during her time under his own wing.

No, when in his presence, Y/N was none short of genuine, so much so that he could read her every emotion like the pages of a beloved children’s story. Her grins and giggles never sounded insincere around him, and, to his delight, nor did her blushes or her nervous stammers. 

The timid young woman hid just out of sight beneath an eggshell, always taking two steps back the closer he got to her. He should have felt offended by her skittishness around him, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t find an allure in her shy nature. She startled easily and shrunk down whenever he stood over her, looking for all the world like an abandoned kitten he wanted to take home with him.

You can take what you want.

Otto’s dark brows knit at that. Yes, yes, that was true, he certainly had the means and power now to do as he desired…No! Absolutely not. He couldn’t just steal a person, that was absurd!

What’s so absurd about it?

The scientist pinched his sunglasses between gloved fingers, ignoring the dull pounding of a building headache. “It’s absurd because she’s not some…some object,” he told himself aloud, trying to shake away such a ridiculous thought.

She’s beautiful like one. 

“She is, isn’t she…” Otto groaned, spreading his large hand across his face. “That is beside the point! I cannot simply kidnap a woman because I’m—”

Alone?

Abandoned?

Forgotten?

Anguished?

Forsaken?

“ENOUGH!” Otto Octavius panted, hands at his knees as the actuators crowded around him, their scarlet beams boring into his skull. “Enough, all of you…please…”

You deserve to take what you want.

“I…I don’t…”

You’re not a failure. The world has failed you. 

“Th-that’s not—”

Think of her.

A static image of Y/N fizzled into Otto’s brain, frozen in his mind’s eye. 

Y/N smiled so sweetly at him, one hand loosely gripping the shawl on her arm in an anxious gesture as he spoke over her, resplendent in a cyaneous dress from one of Oscorp’s formal events. The one they first met at. 

His eyes shamelessly roamed over the image presented to him. Such a timid young woman…He could well and truly tell how much she admired him, and while it was expected for most budding scientists to have an awkward social streak around other people, she had a clumsy way about her that was less off-putting and more…endearing, perhaps.

Look at her.

“I-I’m looking…”

Don’t you want her?

“...I do, I just—”

Then take her.

Otto stared into the memory of Y/N’s eyes, and the longer he sank into those E/C depths, the more his plans solidified. 

He had to have her.

That night, the scientist took the same route he had traversed for the past few weeks, following Y/N’s trek from Oscorp Industries to her apartment on the other side of town. He always kept a careful watch on her, in particular during the times where she ducked past dark alleyways or broken street lamps. Thankfully, for the most part, she kept her gaze down and people didn’t bother her much.

Otto gave her a few more hours, allowing her to have dinner, change, brush her teeth, and crawl into bed, all while he leaned against the brick of the building, watching the night roll out. After another hour or so of trying to ascertain the difference between stars and planes overhead, he finally unlocked her window with one of the meticulous claws, ensuring nothing broke as he entered her bedroom.

Y/N was fast asleep, burrowed into a mass of blankets and covers, none-the-wiser to his appearance. 

The claw peeled back her bedcovers, revealing Y/N dressed in soft cotton pajama shorts and a matching spaghetti-strap tank. He subdued an amused chuckle as his eyes scanned the patterns of her sleepwear (penguins with cowboy hats and water pistols), but had more trouble catching back a strangled gasp when he realized Y/N was without a bra. Tiny pebbles poked through the fabric, made even more so prominent as he stole away the warmth of her covers.

Control yourself. 

Had that been his voice? Or that of one of his new “companions” whispering in his ear? Either way, the advice was solid, and he swallowed down the lump in his throat before continuing.

One of the actuators worked its way carefully around her frangible form, taking care to grip her hard enough to secure her where he wanted her, but not so much as to cause her any discomfort. The mechanical digits clutched around her waist, gently lifting her from the mattress.

Y/N drooped in his grip, her head lolling to the side and hair curtaining her face from the shift in gravity. A free claw was quick to swoop in and pluck the fallen hairs out of the way. 

For a few unstable heartbeats, Otto held her close in front of him, pleased to finally see her up-close again. Her eyelashes fluttered with dreams, her lips parted slightly as she mumbled something about a “nuclear panda.” One of Otto’s gloved hands flexed, chasing away the temptation to swipe a leather finger down her cheek and jaw. 

The scientist’s free arms hoisted him back out through the window, cautiously taking Y/N’s unconscious form along with him. Gooseflesh erupted along her exposed skin from the brisk night air, and a part of him considered removing his coat for her, but dismissed the idea when it occurred to him that that would risk waking her; the last thing he needed was for Y/N to awaken in the middle of being carried high over the glittering city below, and to realize she was in danger of plummeting to her death.

He’d sooner die by gruesome torture than ever let something like that happen—but obviously, she would not be privy to his intentions. There was no need to send the poor thing into a full-on heart attack. 

Otto transported her at a slower pace than he normally took, ensuring she would not be jerked and tossed about like a ragdoll. As they neared his hideout at the abandoned pier, he thought on the suffocating grasp of frigiferous loneliness that normally strangled his lungs upon arrival, his chest oddly lightweight with Y/N in his possession. He smiled.

Settling in, he lay Y/N down upon the makeshift bed he had fashioned in the back of the crumbling structure, allowing her to roll from the claw cradled at her hips. She groaned softly as he drew a ragged blanket over her bare shoulders, and felt a swirl of guilt at having not better prepared for her being there. Not that there was much to be done to improve the hospitality of a decaying pier, but still. 

Y/N took some time to rise with the sun, and though Otto was never much of a patient man, for her, he could make an exception. Besides, he took a strange pleasure in watching her sleep, her legs occasionally kicking and flinching, her lips parted as she occasionally muttered nonsense, eyelashes sweeping her cheeks.

Eventually, as the sun broke through and bathed her in a ruddy orange glow, Y/N began to stir, her dreams fading into the sunlight. Befuddled by her arrangement, the girl cast a quick look around her at all sides, determined she was indeed no longer dreaming, and began to scream.

Perhaps breaking, entering, and stealing away his former student away in her sleep was not the doctor’s brightest idea. 

“Y/N!” Otto called out, allowing his mechanical limbs to draw him closer, until he hovered a few inches over her prone form.

“D-Dr. Octavius?” Y/N whispered, rubbing an eye with the back of her fist as she blinked away any last remnants of sleep, possibly questioning the reality of her current situation. “Where—oh my god, where am I?”

“It’s okay, take a second to breathe,” he reassured her, but she flinched away from his hand as he went to pat her shoulder. “You’re safe. I’m not going to harm you.”

“I-I don’t understand.” Y/N pulled the ratty blanket closer to her shivering skin, eyes roving across the abandoned pier with sheer bewilderment. “How did I-I get here? And wh…” She trailed off, words catching in her throat as she took in his appearance.

That’s right, he hadn’t seen her since the accident. 

Seeing her former mentor hovering over her, his monstrous tentacles tracking her movements with electric crimson eyes, she couldn’t help but to quiver. There was no way she had missed seeing his name and face in the news, for all the various crimes blotting his record, so she knew what he was capable of.

Y/N shrunk away as he drew closer, hugging the blanket to her chest. “Please! Dr. O-Octavius, please. Why am I here?”

The doctor could hardly admit that he had kidnapped her because he was lonely.

“I just…missed my favorite student,” he murmured, leather fingers coming to rest at her jaw.

Y/N winced, and he felt her shivers against the back of his hand. “Please d-don’t hurt me.”

“Hurt you?” he chuckled fondly, allowing one of the actuators to replace his hand. “Didn’t I just get through saying I wouldn’t harm you, Y/N?”

Y/N’s eyes shone with a thin layer of glittering tears, and Otto’s heart stopped abruptly. Teasing her for more of those terrified expressions and fearful mewls was enticing, but he never intended to push her to a breaking point. While he found the imbalance of power between you two admittedly…appealing, he wasn’t a proud man to make you cry. 

“Don’t…Damn it. Y/N, I was being serious, I won’t…”

Without warning, Otto turned sharply on his feet, storming across the clearing as he ran his hands through his hair, mulling over what had compelled him to do something so idiotic.

“I shouldn’t have brought you here,” he concluded, ignoring the actuators as they popped up all around his face, staring him down with beady, volatile crimson eyes. “I don’t know what I was thinking…damn! I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’ll take you home.”

He moved to grab her and she flinched again.

“Sorry! My apologies, I wasn’t…I just…need to carry you back, that’s all. I know the arms are intimidating, but they won’t—”

“Oh, no, it’s n-not that,” Y/N assured him, playing absentmindedly with a loosened string on the elastic of her shorts. “I-I just don’t…want to go?”

Otto gawked down at the girl, the gears in his head turning wildly as they raced to track this conversation. “I’m sorry?”

“I-I said that I…” Y/N’s eyes jumped from object to object around the pier, never fully meeting his eyes directly, “I don’t, um…well, I don’t want to leave.”

Even the actuators gaped at her, cocking their claws from side to side like baffled pups, hissing softly. When Otto remained without words, Y/N buried her face in her hands, digging her fingers into her hair momentarily before exhaling a frustrated huff.

“I-I missed you, Dr. Octavius!” she blurted. Hands falling from her face, he saw that telltale surge of color in her cheeks, her bottom lip twitching as she struggled to overcome an inner battle.

“I’ve always, uhm, admired you, d-doctor. Your work ethic, y-your thoughts o-on nuclear science are unparalleled. And you’ve always taken your time with me! Y-you never—you never made me feel like an idiot for not getting things, and you’ve always had such a brilliant brain. It’s…it’s why I decided to intern under you in the first place.”

Y/N still avoided his eyes, her stammers lessening but her bashfulness remaining at full tilt as she fiddled with a strand of her hair. “I like you, Dr. Octavius. I’m…I’m sure you hear it all the time, so I know it hardly means anything coming from someone like me, but I think you’re amazing. Your thoughts, your passions, all of it, And I just w—”

Otto cleared the gap, allowing his arms to lower him just enough to where he could align his lips with hers, slotting their mouths together in a deep kiss that made him thankful that the arms were there to support his weight. He melted into her with a relieved sigh, gloved hands finding their way around either side of her face to angle her better against him.

For a horrifying moment, Y/N did not respond, merely trembling beneath the sensual kiss as he worked his lips over hers, exploring the feeling of her mouth against his.

However, a moment later, Y/N’s shaky hands reached up to gently rest at the back of Otto’s neck, urging him closer as she relaxed back into him, her lips soft and pliable, parting welcomingly to allow his tongue entrance.

His gloved hands roamed her cautiously, touching here and there as they kissed to assess her comfort levels. For as shy of a little thing as she was, the vixen made no protests to his advances, even going so far as to encourage them with little nips at the base of his throat.

"You're not afraid?" he asked between gasping breaths.

"I was," Y/N admitted, sighing into his touch, "only because I thought...I thought it might not be you in there. But it is."

He moaned without meaning to, and Y/N sat upright higher on the mattress to reach him, tentative hands brushing along his waistline. She continued that way for a time, offering her open mouth to his as her fingers played with his belt, stroking up and down his bare chest but always coming back to rest at his thighs.

Espresso eyes met hers, questioningly, tracking the little darts of her eyes and continued adornments of color to her cheeks and nose.

"Are you..." He leaned in, catching her earlobe between his teeth, "wanting to touch me, Y/N?"

Y/N swallowed visibly, and he got the impression that she wasn't one to be vocal about the things she wanted. "Y-yes, Dr. Octavius. May I?"

"Then by all means," he rumbled, voice tone dipping down from lust.

Her hands fumbled shakily over the buckle, listening for that metallic click to signify her access to him. Dipping a hand into his pants, she began to gently palm his heat in her fingers, self-consciously brushing across his package through the fabric.

Otto craned his neck back, straining for control. The demure little thing was shy in every aspect of herself, including the way she played him. Unfortunately, this meant her feather-light teases were now driving him insane.

Growling, the doctor allowed her to free him from the discomfort of his tight confines, his cock throbbing into her palm. Length-wise, she shouldn't have any troubles, but he had been blessed with a generous girth.

Y/N dotted kitten-light kisses to the weeping tip and Otto shook, breaths harsher as his mechanical limbs stretched out, locking onto the pier floorboards to stabilize him, lest his knees buckle. Y/N continued her torturous teases with diminutive licks all over his engorged head and length, her tongue prodding at the veins beneath the surface.

The scientist swore under his breath as she slurped the tip of him into her mouth, finally allowing him to breach her warmth. He bucked involuntarily toward her lips, stifling a desperate whine as she carried on with her coy navigation of him, suckling and licking around him like a lollipop, until finally he could take no more, and gripped the back of her hair.

Y/N peered upward, and the sight of her sitting beneath him, cheeks bulged with his cock as she tilted her head questioningly up at him, was enough to make him thrust forward, inching his way into further her mouth. Y/N obliged without complaint, her eyes fluttering shut as she worked him in deeper, careful to breathe steadily and angle him in such a way that she wouldn't choke just yet.

The girl hollowed her cheeks around him, suckling gently as her tongue encompassed him, roving over every bit of velvety flesh it could reach. Otto began to pick up the pace, ever watchful of her reactions to ensure she was okay with it, his hips colliding with her lip as he began fully stuffing himself down her throat.

Y/N gagged momentarily, tears manifesting at her eyelashes, but she remained dutiful, bobbing herself lightly up and down on him as his thrusts began to take on an uneven pace. With a final moan, he spent himself down her throat, clutching the back of her head to ensure he hit as far down as humanly possible.

He released her. Y/N coughed, but seemed otherwise no worse for wear, running her tongue along her lips to collect the last remnants of his sticky seed from her face. He shuddered at the sight.

Y/N rested her hands at his thighs, catching her breath in time with his. Otto swooped back in, catching her mouth to his in a quick, searing kiss. He hardly minded the taste of himself, so long as it was on her lips.

"Mm, Dr. Octavius—"

"Dear, I think we've moved well beyond formalities," he chuckled, letting one of the actuators cradle her cheek against its edge. "Please, call me Otto."

#asks #requests #doc ock x reader #doc ock #dr otto octavius #otto octavius x reader #dr otto octavius x reader #x reader #spiderman #no way home

[selfshippinglover]

Cici friend! Tell me abt ur new guys 👀

HIIII COOOZYYY :DDD THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKIING AND IMISSED YOOOUIMMA GUESS UR REFRERING TO THE CIRCUS SILLIES YEAH?

Imma just list off random hcs about em cause not much is known anyways lol

Caine: (look at the silly <33)

~He reads as pan to me tbh

~They created all of the other npcs, the models that the humans take on, Bubble, the circus itself, and every creature that comes for their throats

~Is touch starved. Like yeah he and the moon had a thing but he's touchy with people on multiple occasions so I think he really wants anemone to hold his hand UvU

~Very lonely boyo. Created friends via the npcs, a pet/ second hand in Bubble, made the circus to inhabit, planned out adventures, figured out how to bring people to his pocket world, and lets them set the pace! Like, HE WANTS COMPANIONSHIP SO BAAAD TWT

~He loves compliments! Like, he took all his time and energy to create this world and everything around us like please tell him how good he is! He's unhinged but cares a lot and sets high standards for himself and his creations! (Also I didn't say it but that gives him blatant favoritism towards you automatically)

~Very theatrical! The guy lives like all the world's a stage fr and plays off everything as such! Always moving around, posing, and making every little thing he does a big thing that he puts all of his energy into! I find his passion really endearing <33

~Generally an artist and creative! Whether it's creating things in a Spore-esque sequence, choosing the color palettes and aesthetics for the world, or little things like placing objects in a room at jusst the right angle, he genuinely enjoys it :) Also he cares SO MUCH ABOUT COLORS AND CORRECTNESS LIKE DON'T DISTURB DURING THE CREATIVE PROCESS HE'S GONNA YELL DRAMATICALLY AND POOF YOU AWAY ABOUT IT SGJBSBJG

~Will do the pulling people out of scenes with the cane thing

~Man the bruises he could leave on a bitch with those chompers 🥴🥴🥴

~It would hurt to touch his eyes...but they feel squishy for SURE

Ragatha: (l-lesbean //// )

~YEAH SHE'S GAY FOR WOMEN FR

~She feels soft like a doll to the touch but with a kind of springiness to the texture. Especially her hair. Still is the softest of the gang though :)

~Very much a quietly pining in the background kinda gal but is also suuuper easy to make flushed so her crushes are pretttty obvioous(Jax teases her for it often)

~The person that adjusted best to the transition into the digital world since she's the most empathetic and readily accepting of what coping strategies do and don't work. It's not as if she's unaffected but she's adjusted rather well to deal with the situation and actively works to help others with it too :)

~Genuinely the nicest person in the circus gang. Looks to help others adjust to the experience, transitions them slowly and gently, offering support and guidance all the way through. If there's anyone here you can be sure to trust, it's her!

~But also helping others is a part of her coping with the world? Like, uses others stress to undermine and/or bury her own surrounding the situation. She tends to put others comfort over her own because of this. (Pomni basically left her to die and she accepted it so fast_

~When she does break down, it's mostly crying in her room. Not coming out for days. Eventually, she comes back out like nothing happened. Talks and plays along like usual but her footsteps steps are heavier. Or she's looking down at the ground when not distracted. spacing out if something makes her uncomfortable. The wear and tear comes out in the liddle things :(

~Really values anyone that takes time to get to know her, the things she likes, asks her how she's doing, invites her to adventures and the like since the group dynamic flips as well as the literal world around them are prone to flipping on a dime. The consistency really helps her feel more grounded :,)

~Isn't afraid to put Jax in his place but she also knows he's going to retaliate eventually so it really depends on the situation if she'll intervene or not.

Jax: (BASTARD)

~Bisexual that BASTARDIZES THE WHOLE COMMUNITY KDHAB

~ The fastest character in the entire show next to Caine. Though he's at his fastest when it's for a bit lol

~Doesn't actually straight up hate everyone but he's rejection sensitive and in a world where people just fuckin, turn into monsters?? Like, why get attached if that could just happen whenever. Also, why let others get attached to him since he could end up the same way? It's more like a damage control measure

~Same with his whole, "worst piece of shit ever thing" he's got going. He's definitely an asshole for the thrill of it but he does care about others! Watching his reactions to others(except Gangle atm) at slower speeds show more of a reaction and concern for them. He just snaps into hiding in at the drop of a hat

~Likes picking up random objects and either throwing them at others right away and/or saving them for later

~All his clothes are worn loosely cause he hates being restricted in movement. Makes him feel closed in :(

~Had a really bad breakdown when he first arrived. Isolated himself for awhile before deciding to adopt this more apathetic character to deal with everything

~Feels like a plastic stretchy toy texture wise

#Jade #digital lovers unlimited #ragged doll romance #jaxass #feel free to reblog #whether fellow self shipper or not #i'd be glad to hear more hcs? #see where there's overlaps and differences #so igmnore my shipping tags and reblof if ya like #:DD #tadc #tadc hcs #tadc caine #tadc ragatha #tadc jax #tadc caine hcs #tadc ragatha hcs #tadc jax hcs #THANK YOU SOO MUCH FOR ASKING!THIS WAS SOO FUN!!

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Clan, I can't stress how brilliant your fics are so if no one can make you the Dad John AU you crave. Can I request that you make that AU yourself?

Oh that’s true I DO have the power to make my own content :D

For this AU, the Doomed Child will be [Y/N] just because

......

"Here is thy penance: BRING THE CHILD TO ME. Perform this act of contrition...and thou shalt have the peace thou seekest. Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good.”

“..for His mercy endures forever.”

As John stepped out of the confessional booth, he was left to ponder the voice’s command. It was vague in its request, yet demanding at the same time. And he wondered who it could’ve been talking about.

‘Have I seen any children around this place..?’ He tried to think..

And suddenly he remembered:

There was a small figure hiding behind the church, and they fled into the cornfield as he approached the building. All he could make out was a blur of purple that vaguely resembled a human; he thought to follow them beforehand, but was afraid it would be another trap.

God only knows he’s sick of getting trapped by demons. He could thank those in the cemetery for that.

But the voice gave him the promise of forgiveness. How could he resist that? It wouldn’t lie to him..would it?

His eyebrows slightly furrowed as he stood in place, feeling himself becoming doubtful once more. He’s spoken with God before--and that sounded nothing like Him. 

Perhaps it was an angel or some kind of messenger receiving him on His behalf?

Or maybe it was-

‘Stop.’ John shook his head, trying not to overthink everything. ‘I will carry out this wish..anything to ease this burden.’ He opted to shuffle through his notes instead. Usually he found his answers within the stacks he’s gathered throughout his journey.

A few mentioned kids being dragged into the cornfield...and some entity called the Spindly Lady who guarded the church basement that paranormal investigators tried to summon. Apparently children were terrified of her.

Well, that would be a problem. 

If he were to find this one specific child, they wouldn’t go anywhere near the church grounds as long as she was still present. Even he could sense that she was hanging around.

So he decided to play her little game, and in no time her violent evil spirit manifested itself with a screech. She was quite erratic in her movements, but in the end John prevailed and purged her from this world.

Now that the church was cleansed, he could seek out the child and bring them inside.

They would have no choice but to trust him.

...........

You were just wandering in the cornfield, feeling anxious about being here all alone in the dead of night. There was no sanctuary from the chilly weather except for the church--but you were far too terrified to go in there.

The Spindly Lady or those bad people in red would just drag you back out here...or worse...into the dark basement. 

The mere thought made you shiver in fear. 

You went to the lone scarecrow in the field, smiling at it like it’s an old friend. “At least you’re here.” Putting your small hands on its body, you tucked some of the loose hay back into its body. It was shedding everywhere. Nobody ever took care of it, so this was the least you could do.

Suddenly, you noticed the cornstalks rustling and tensed up, looking in the direction of the sound.

It was..

A man, but not just any man. It was a priest.

Your eyes lit up with hope that he could help you. This was someone you could trust for sure..although his eyes looked quite tired and sad.

‘What’s a priest doing out here so late anyway?’

Regardless, you didn’t want him to miss you. So you waved your arms and called out to him.

“Hi, mister! Will you help me?”

John stopped in his tracks upon seeing you running up to him. Indeed, you were that exact child he saw entering the cornfield. You wore a purple shirt and jeans--you looked at least nine or ten years old, with some dirt on your clothing. But despite your rugged appearance, you looked happy to see him.

Though you didn’t expect him to be so tall. It intimidated you a little.

“Don’t be afraid, I will help you.” He knelt down. “I’m Father Ward. You can follow me back to the church, we’ll be safer there.”

In an instant, you were seized by panic. “Th-The church? But..what about the Spindly Lady?”

“She’s gone. Only God remains there now. He will protect us.” With a gentle smile, he offered his hand to you. “Let us go.”

"Um..I’ll just follow you, Father.”

John simply nodded in understanding, getting up and heading back to the church. His smile gradually disappeared as he felt the guilt starting to weigh down heavily on his back.

Why did this feel so...wrong? Was he doing the right thing by luring you to an unknown fate?

“What is your name, child?”

“It’s..[y/n].” You timidly answered, feeling uneasy as you both entered the church, confused when he took a left. But you kept following him anyway. “Where are you taking me?”

“..to find a lighter for these candles.” He lied. “They’ve all gone out.”

“Why do you sin?”

Freezing in his tracks, the priest turned back to you, almost bewildered by your question. “What...?”

“I asked why are you here so late?” You tilted your head, confused by his panic-striken expression, which he quickly covered up after realizing his misheard you.

“O-Oh..I’m..on a mission to stop a great evil. Have you seen any demons?”

“Not in a long time.” You hugged yourself to keep warm. “But I know they’re watching. They are all around us...it’s scary.”

He nodded once more, but as you both approached the confessional booth, he tensed upon seeing the red curtain rustling. As if something inside had grown impatient and was enticing him to come closer.

Suddenly his gut was screaming not to trust it. That it was a trap.

For all he knew, it could very well be a demon disguised as an angel.

This church was too far corrupted to be a safe and holy place. He found snippets of its horrific past..realizing that he probably was being tricked into handing over an innocent child to some unknown creature.

And for what? His own peace of mind?

No..this wouldn’t give him any peace. Only an added layer of guilt on top of his past failures. He let people die....and was about to offer you up with no questions asked.

How could he be so selfish and cowardly?

“Is there someone in there-?”

“Don’t.” You froze as John suddenly put an arm out, blocking you from proceeding further. “I feel..that this place isn’t safe either. You’re right. They could be all around us. Be they in a stained glass window..or this very booth where I confessed my sins. I’m very sorry, [y/n]..I...I couldn’t sense it before, but I do now. I’m so sorry...I understand if you can’t trust me.”

He closed his eyes, expecting you to run away and shun him for misleading you.

But instead, you hugged him, shocking him at first. As he looked down at you, you quickly let go and smiled nervously. “It’s alright, Father. I’m just..I was scared nobody would find me out there. But you did. I feel safe as long as I’m with you. I trust you.”

His heart nearly melted at your words.

God, you were so kind..he didn’t deserve this.

Kneeling down again, he gave you a proper hug, which you returned. “I’ll protect you as best I can. My home would be the safest place...if you’re willing to go there, that is. Do you have any parents?”

“..they’re with the bad red people. They always called me the “Doomed Child” instead of my real name...I don’t know why.”

Oh, there’s no way in hell were you going back to them.

“Your name is [y/n], and you are not doomed.” He reassured you. “None of God’s children are doomed forever. He will keep you safe, as will I. I swear it.”

“Okay, thank you, Father.” You smiled, as did he.

John believed this was God’s offer at letting him atone for failing to save one child--by granting him the opportunity to save another. The evil hasn’t taken you, and he certainly won’t let that happen.

Maybe after all of this is over..he could become your new guardian.

As a father that he never got to be.

#clanask #anonymous #faith game x reader #faith the unholy trinity x reader #john ward #child reader #platonic #faith doomed child #faith game au

[alstroemeriadissonance]

I did it. >< I‘ve registered on Tumblr. My introverted soul's suffering, but at least I can read your blog without any issues. Totally worth it. How are you recently? Hope, you manage to relax and have a decent sleep.

Anyway, I have a strange request...maybe. Vyn often likes to call his sweetheart "pet" in your stories (which I find very cute and hot at the same time). What if once Rosa decided to make a birthday surprise for Vyn, so she dressed as a pretty little black cat with fluffy ears, tail etc. to satisfy this unhinged, needy and posessive side of her boyfriend. Though he previously hinted at this darkness inside him, not only she wasn't afraid, but surprisingly attracted to it. At the same time Rosa could accidentally satisfy her authority fetish playing this master-pet game.

Ignore it if this requests sounds strange and complicated. My work is also killing me at the moment, so strange ideas come to my head XD

BR,

Nikki

Special Delivery - Part 1 (NSFW)

This was supposed to be posted only when finished. But Real Life™ is happening, and I find my writing time being gimped recently because a kitten literally landed in my backyard, probably abandoned by his Mum, and now I'm his new Mum!

I'll just post what I have for now (but hopefully I get to finish this, soon!)

NSFW. Unhinged Vyn is Unhinged. Light BDSM happening with bad BDSM etiquette, please read at own risk, certainly not recommended to be tried at home unless your or your boyfriend's name is Vyn Richter, in which case, lucky you.

Dr. Vyn Richter is tired.

His study is the lone witness to this moment of utter weakness. 

He finally puts down the tablet containing the files he is poring over tirelessly for hours, onto the cluttered surface of his mahogany desk. 

He stares, his gold eyes dim and sullen, at the stack of documents by the corner of his desk. All papers are waiting for his attention.

There are things still waiting to be done…

A sigh escapes his lips as he buries his face in his hands. Trying to gather himself—all in futility. 

There are some things even Vyn Richter cannot do, such as to completely stamp out petty, childish disappointments when things do not go his way. 

For example: Today is his birthday. He fully expects you, his beloved Rosa, to drop by or be available to spend his natal day with him. It is for this reason that he made arrangements to leave his workplace early, on the pretext of continuing his work at home.

Yet you sent him a text message an hour ago, a text message canceling your meeting with him, and instead you promised something, a gift, to be delivered to his address. In lieu of your presence …

All presents, all gifts you send him are cherished. Vyn will never disregard nor take anything you give him for granted; this much is true. However…

It is your presence that he yearns for the most.

And so, at this very moment there is nothing for Vyn to look forward to, none at all , and he bitterly laughs. Hasn’t he spent past birthdays alone without celebration, nor any semblance of merrymaking, before you came into his life?

And now that you are inconvenienced, kept from gracing him with your presence due to your responsibilities, he finds himself shattered as if he is bereft of life itself, as if a grave injustice has been committed against his very being.

And so he is nothing but tired. Nothing but—

A chime resounds, ripping him away from his morose thoughts. 

“Yes,” Vyn mutters, knowing that his now surly voice is audible by the intercom installed by the downstairs main entrance. “I shall be there posthaste.”

He does not wait for a reply—despite his misgivings, he is still excited to know what his most cherished, darling Rosa has sent him—and proceeds to descend the staircase in order to receive his delivery.

===

Right, here goes.

You pull down the visor of your baseball cap, part of the uniform of a popular delivery service, to obscure your face. The large coat thrown over your shoulders is perfectly aligned—you have checked so many times now—and…

You move your hips a little. The thing you’re wearing underneath everything—something new, something shiny , you inwardly jest—isn’t falling off , at least.

Footsteps approach from behind the heavy door. You take a deep breath. 

The door to the entrance finally opens, and a familiar silverhead emerges through the crack. Vyn looks a little bleary-eyed, and you feel a slight pang of regret. There is no doubt that the tiredness is coming from work exhaustion, but you know, judging from his reply to your text message earlier, that he is also immensely disappointed by your cancelation of plans.

No more delays , you tell yourself. No need to prolong his agony.

“Good evening. Delivery for Dr. Richter?” You greet him, voice slightly modulated in an attempt to hide your identity for the moment. 

“Yes. It is I,” Vyn says irritably, an edge of impatience creeping into his words. It is a side of Vyn that you have not seen before, and you find it fascinating. “ Where is the package ?” he demands, upon noticing that your hands are empty, nor are there any box or other sort of parcel lying by your feet.

Grinning, you take off the baseball cap with a swift flourish, and shrug off the large coat concealing what you are actually wearing underneath:

Standing in front of him is you, his Rosa, clad in something he has never quite seen before, not even in your most intimate moments with him: a scant black dress of velvet fabric that barely covers your crotch and ass, clinging to your skin like the most decadent icing on cake. 

And as a naughty touch: a black choker, which looks like a long strip of leather wound around your neck; a black cat-eared headband, along with a cat’s tail swinging down past the hem of your dress. 

The tail is attached to your body in the most dubious manner possible. 

Well, Vyn will have to discover it himself, soon enough.

The look on your lover’s face is already worth the effort: he stands there by the doorway, jaw slack, words having left him. Yet he composes himself quickly, just enough to pull you through the doorway, and into his eager arms. 

“Rosa, Rosa, Rosa ,” he chants your name out loud—his immense relief audible—as he smothers you with wet, desperate kisses all over your neck, bare shoulders, face, until it ends with the deepest, most breathtaking French kiss of a lifetime. 

When he pulls back there is none of the tiredness to be found on his visage, only that pure, unadulterated, unhinged desire clouding his gaze with lust. “My little succubus … no, my kitten ,” he quickly corrects himself, giving reference to the black cat theme of your little costume. “I thought you had abandoned me today. On my birthday,” he breathes as his hands cravingly roam your velvet-clad body.

“I can’t, that would be sacrilege ,” you tell him in between your own kisses. “I’m sorry…I think I upset you more than I expected…”

“Was I upset? I have already forgotten, my pet.” Vyn lets out a small laughter, low enough that it almost registers as a purr . His gold eyes, darkening to caramel, appreciates your incredibly lewd costume that you put on, just for him. His trembling voice lowers to a frenzied whisper: “You look dangerous. Exquisite . Should I die in your arms tonight then let it be so.” 

His voice, his breathing quivers, betraying how much the sight of you turns him on . 

Letting out a string of foreign words he then kicks the main door closed, then resumes his fervent kissing, as if forgetting that the both of you are still by the foyer of his home. His lips graze your bare shoulders; hands now grab and fondle your breasts through the velvet. 

Moaning, you reach out and coil your arms around his shoulders, clinging to him for dear life as one of your legs wrap around his waist. “Vyn…” you murmur as you feel his teeth lightly nipping at the skin of your nape. “Happy Birth— ah… !”

One of his hands slides down to your ass, and one of your naughtier secrets is revealed: the tail swinging behind your legs is actually a butt plug with a faux cat’s tail attached to it. 

Vyn gasps a little, and his finger brushes against your behind once again, this time deliberately, to make sure he isn’t mistaken . But there it is: something is buried in your ass. And another revelation follows, to corroborate it: You are not wearing any panties.

Your lover groans, and you can now feel his rapidly growing erection jutting against you through the fabric of his pants. “This is my gift?” He asks, his voice raspy and heavy with sheer need. Fingers tentatively grasp the flared base of the plug; grinning, he gently moves the plug inside you. His smile only widens as he feels your fingers clutch at him, nails digging deeply into his back as you moan loudly, “Vyn—ah—wait, that feels…weird?”

“Does it hurt?” A light kiss on your cheek. Careful fingers still move the plug inside your ass.

You squirm as he tests just how responsive you are when he plays with the toy buried inside you. “No. It just…takes getting used to—oh god —” A sharp intake of breath.

Vyn chuckles quietly as he observes your face flitting from expression to another expression with every movement of his fingers.

“And yet…here we are.” He presses down on the flared handle of the plug, to emphasize his point (and to further enjoy your loud mewling). “Why?”

“Ahh…” The knee of your leg still standing almost buckles; you tighten the hold of your other leg around his waist to steady yourself. “I…I thought you’d like something…new for your birthday…”

“Haha. Hahaha… ” Vyn seems utterly delighted by your answer, yet his laugh reminds you of a predator about to toy with fresh prey.

He then grasps your other leg by the underside of your knee, looping it around his waist—he now carries you, his hands supporting your thighs as your legs lock behind his back. “I had plans, plans that took quite a bit of effort to organize.” You can almost hear him pouting. 

“But… perhaps …” His hard on, rubbing against your bare pussy and bearing a quiet promise of pleasures to come, is hard to ignore. 

His following words mark the start of your most debauched night to remember: “...we can salvage the night. What say I take you in every room of my home?”

You whimper in his tight hold—this may be more than what you are prepared for—but Vyn only laughs in response.

===

First Area: Kitchen

After clearing the countertop of clutter in a sex-fueled haste Vyn lays you down upon the cold surface of the kitchen island, both of your lips still locked onto each others. 

His tongue leads yours into such a sensuous dance that leaves you dripping onto the granite.

“Mmm…oh, what is this?” Vyn murmurs against your lips as his hand brushes against the leather choker wound around your neck. 

He is elated to discover, upon unwinding the long leather strip, that you are wearing a leash around your neck. 

“ Kitten ?” The surprises do not seem to stop, and Vyn can only smile for every revelation. “What exactly do you want to happen tonight?” He hums in delight as he dips down to worship you with his lips, trailing small, tender kisses along your collarbone. 

His hand holds the other end of your leash, winding the strip around his fist. 

Your eyes flutter closed as you let yourself get carried away by his embrace. “Anything you want? But…” You bit your lip. “Be gentle? Even I am not sure what to expect, I just, um…” A nervous laugh escapes your lips. “This is just something I read…”

You feel him sigh into your cleavage, his hot breath fanning your flushed skin. “Silly kitten. Cheap tabloids and magazines are hardly good sources of practical sex education.” Fingers slide the thin straps of your tiny dress down your arms, freeing your breasts for his own pleasure. His warm, soft tongue swirls around one of your areolae. “A better source would be a doctor , do you not think so?” There is an amused lilt to his voice.

A firm suck on your nipple, and you gasp aloud. “Vyn,” you moan his name helplessly as his deft hands slip your dress down your body and slide them off your ankles, leaving you naked and helpless under his touches. “Then you’re going to show me…how to play ?”

“ Play ?” He asks, gently tugging onto your leash to tease you. “What kind of play? Be specific, little pet.”

“Um.” You suddenly feel a little silly, for not having a clear plan on how to do things. You only knew to show up wearing those items, that there would be a modicum of kinky play that would have you be led around to doing things , but whatever these things were are not exactly clear. “...kinky stuff?”

Another sigh from your lover. A tender fingertip nudges your chin towards his face, prompting you to look at him in his eyes of deep gold. “Unfortunately, I am not so well-versed with the kind of play that necessitates use of things such as this, for lack of both opportunity and interest,” he pulls on your leash, eliciting a soft whimper from your throat. “But…now that you are with me, I am amenable to a bit of experimentation, of course.” 

A faintly devious smile spreads on his lips.

===

A few minutes later he is sitting on one of the chairs in the kitchen, topless and his legs crossed.

His hand, holding the other end of your leash.

His bare chest, slathered with freshly whipped cream. 

And you, kneeling right in front of him.

“Well?” he purrs, snapping his wrist, roughly—but not too painfully—yanking your leash. 

You yelp in surprise, finding yourself careening towards him, and you eventually drape onto his lap. “Aaah, Vyn—”

“It is Dr. Richter , pet,” He reminds you as his free hand idly caresses the side of your face. “Now,” Another tug on your leash, this time upwards, prompting you to stand up. “Clean me with your tongue.”

His short, precise, incredibly suggestive order arouses you so much you feel as if you are dripping between your thighs. “Yes." A small wince crosses your face; Vyn isn't letting up with yanking your least according to his whims at the moment. But before you could bend down to do his bidding, he sharply interrupts you: “Yes what, pet?” 

Another tug on your leash, a little stronger this time, and you almost topple on top of him, but you catch yourself with your hands planted onto his lap. 

Vyn allows you this, and lets the unprompted contact slide. Instead, he merely looks at you with a piercing, yet indecipherable gaze, his jaw set.

“Yes…Dr. Richter,” you whisper.

“ Good kitten. ” His lips curl into a come-hither grin, his eyes misted over with desire. “Now, come.”

The next few moments pass with silence; you quietly lick and suck his fair skin clean of cream. The flat of your tongue laps up the fluffy white sweetness, leaving trails of your rapidly-cooling saliva in its wake.

The solemn silence is broken when your lips capture a nipple; Vyn’s sighs and moans fill the kitchen area as you suck on his sensitive nub, rolling it between your lips. 

“Rosa—hahh— yes , do not stop,” he whispers, almost begging , and the sound of his needy voice is so sweet to your ears that you cannot help but tease him. 

Your lips let go of his stiff nub.  “But I need to clean you, I missed a spot—ahh!!” 

He is not amused with your teasing. “I was enjoying myself,” he murmurs as he winds the leather leash around his hand, shortening the slack to make it easier for him to pull you towards whichever direction catches his fancy. “How dare you.”

He then tugs your leash strongly towards him, making you gasp aloud—almost in pain—but your cry is cut short when he slips his tongue into your lips. “Make yourself come without touching yourself,” he says, issuing his next order in between kisses. 

“ What? ” You look at him in slight disbelief. “What are you—”

Of course, your words earn you another yank on your leash. “You dare talk back.”

“But—”

You are not able to finish speaking your mind, of course. You almost expect the strong pull on your leash that shuts you up into compliance.

“Be creative,” your Lord and Master says, shifting in his seat and uncrossing his legs. “This is an order.” Then, in a stage whisper, he adds, “ If this gets too much, just say the safeword. ”

You see a flash of tenderness in his eyes, only to be quickly replaced by a cold glint. “I will not touch you. You will need to find your own release, little kitten.”

Be creative, he says, you tell yourself as your hands brush against his thighs. The rough texture of his trousers immediately gives you an idea. “Dr. Richter,” you whisper as you move to ride one of his thighs. “ Excuse me …”

The lovely friction of rough tweed against your moist cunt has you coiling your arms around his neck; you roll your hips in a slow yet steady rhythm to thoroughly enjoy the sparks of white-hot pleasure flowing from your clit. “Damn, this is better than I expected…”

“Enjoying yourself, pet?” Vyn asks, voice neutral, as he lazily tweaks one of your nipples with a thumb and forefinger. His face still bears a bored, unamused expression—at first glance, at least—yet his smoldering eyes closely following your aroused mewling betrays how turned on he actually is.

Of course, the tent in his pants gives him away too, and you file that observation for future use.

You want to sass out a reply, but you severely underestimate how good rubbing your clit against the rough fabric is. “I—yes, I, damn—” You find yourself not even being able to speak a coherent sentence, not when you’re almost…

Vyn lets out a dark chuckle as he roughly pushes you off of him, and has you lying down once again on the kitchen island, this time face down with your cat-tailed ass hanging off the edge of the granite surface. “No, not yet. You cannot come yet,” he hisses as his fingers quickly unbuckle his belt and pull down his trousers. 

He parts your thighs, and without warning he sinks his stiff cock into your wet folds, fully hilted in one swift movement. “Hah—it does feel quite different with your new toy, does it, little kitten?” he whispers, immediately noticing how the inner walls of your cunt feels different—tighter, even—and even you yourself can feel how tight everything is, even as Vyn just stands behind you, immobile, just relishing how good you feel around his dick.

“Haaah—Dr. Richter, please, ” you cry out, moving your hips desperately. 

“Please what , pet?” Again, that teasing command. Vyn’s arms brace onto either side of your body, preparing himself to rail you hard and fast.

Oh god. Why does he have to— “Fuck me hard, please!” you cry out. “I want—ahhh!”

The kitchen is soon filled with the loud sounds of sex: flesh hitting wet flesh, your voice loudly begging for him to fuck you even harder, and his grunts as he rams into you, over and over in rhythmic cadence. You grit your teeth, thoroughly confused yet utterly pleased with how new everything feels in your lower core, as your lover ruts into you relentlessly, all the while with the plug in your ass providing added pressure.

And the way he deliberately pushes it with every thrust…

Damn it, is your only coherent thought; the rest becoming a jumbled mush as the coil of imminent please winds even tighter—

Then everything stops.

Vyn slides out of you, before you—or him, for that matter—could reach orgasm.

“What?!” comes your indignant protest. You know that your words will no doubt earn his ire and another yanking of your leash, but you are too wound up to even care at this point. “I was about to come—!”

A cruel laugh slips out of his beautiful lips, and his cold fingers slide to your neck. Terrified, you freeze, but you only hear a faint clink and you feel the leash removed from your narrow choker-like collar.

He bends over to whisper directly into your ear: “I have better plans for this , pet,” he says, referring to the leash now coiled in his palm. “Come. Let us continue this outside, in the garden.”

===

Second Area: Garden

With a lover's arms Vyn carries you through the backdoor leading to the garden, whispering sultry promises of how he plans to enjoy you, the little black kitten who somehow wandered into the dark, incomprehensible abyss that is his desire . 

Carefully, he sits you on the edge of the outdoor garden table, your nakedness exposed to the elements; only the moonlight and the balmy night breeze clothe you for this next round.

His gentle, precise hands—undoubtedly the hands of a physician with a remarkable bedside manner—nudge you to his desired position: your thighs spread wide as you sit on your haunches, your arms pinned to your back— everything displayed for his pleasure. 

Then, a faint clink of metal.

“Does it hurt, my kitten?” comes another of his low whispers, his lips tantalizingly close to your ear. Gooseflesh blooms all over your bare skin in response to his sensuous voice.

You try moving your hands to confirm if your suspicions are correct: Yes, your wrists are bound, so too are your ankles. 

Yes, your lover has hogtied your limbs to your back, with the use of your erstwhile leash.

But this only emboldens you—Vyn may be holding the reins, but he is driven by his obsession for you—and you almost let slip a triumphant smile when you answer him, “No. There’s a bit of slack, so it doesn’t hurt much…”

“ Good .”

Vyn’s lips then paint a hot, burning trail of kisses running from your cheek, all the way down to your breast.

Suddenly, gone is his air of authority, and in its place is his twisted craving for you. “My goddess,” he urgently whispers as his mouth and hands run all over your bare skin, his words almost inaudible with the sheer breathiness of his voice and the rustling of the leaves from the surrounding tall shrubbery. 

A hand caressing your face. Fingertips sliding to your nape; their feather-light touches sending electric currents of utter pleasure running down your spine.

A long, drawn-out sigh of lovelorn longing. “My beautiful madonna,” he whispers in reverence.

He then kneels right in front of you. 

It is as if he is worshiping the Madonna, if the Madonna were on his very table with her thighs spread wide open, limbs tied to her back, and her devout worshiper’s tongue lapping up her drenched cunt with the same care and devotion as he would when reciting a sincere prayer.

“...Vyn…” your breath hitches as you feel his tongue trace your inner folds. He has done this for so many times now, this forbidden tasting of you , but this time feels a little bit different: each slide of his tongue against your quivering flesh is slower, more deliberate; and his eyes are closed. 

As if he is reciting a sincere prayer, and the movement of the tonguetip its words. 

Words are murmured softly, disappearing into the aether. 

You can feel his breathing come rapid against your flesh, and he now devours you—two fingers slide into you, and you can now barely make out words from his lips as he kisses your cunt: “... hail, my life, my sweetness .” 

He then looks up at you, his eyes darkening to a caramel gold as he holds your gaze. “... and my hope… ”

His fingers start fucking you faster now, and the coil of pleasure that eluded you earlier starts winding ever tighter once again; an electric spark warming your lower core down to your extremities about to start an explosion—

Vyn pulls away and stands up. 

Before you get the chance to cry about him once again depriving you of reaching your ultimate release, he shuts you up with his tongue in your mouth, forcibly making you taste yourself, and his hand resumes fucking you, with three fingers this time. The pad of his thumb rubs your clit furiously, keeping the embers of your pleasure blazing hot…

“When you come, cry out for me,” comes his order. “Shout my name out loud,” he whispers, in a voice so alluring it could very well belong to the Serpent of the Garden of Eden. 

His tongue slithers into your ear, and you gasp out loud as you can feel yourself teetering to the edge of—

Vyn’s free hand slides down your ass, and once again his fingers find the base of your plug, moving it gently inside you.

“ Shit… ” The darkness of the night instantly goes white, and you throw your head back as you give yourself into the strongest, best orgasm you’ve ever had.

You are about to forget his one order, lost in the throes of your release, but when he starts pulling out your plug—the alien sensation adding to your burst of intense pleasure—there is nothing else to do but shout his name out into the sacred quiet of the night, until you lose yourself.

===

When you come to you find yourself sitting on his lap, his arms cradling you close to him.

Both of you are still out in his garden: Vyn on half-recline, now bereft of clothing. His legs are stretched along the length of his outdoor sofa; his back propped up against a pile of pillows.

He quickly senses you stirring to wakefulness. “Did you dream of me, love?” he asks as he traces your lips with a fond touch of his finger. “You were smiling in your sleep.”

“Maybe?” You peer into his eyes—with irises appearing even more golden without his glasses—and you can see your satiated face reflected on the amber gold. “I think I was dreaming about visiting you, wearing a haphazardly assembled costume…”

Vyn lets out a chuckle, this time dangerously close to your ear; your body thrums in response to his elegant, low voice. 

You know he modulates his voice on purpose to make you feel certain things, and knowing this only makes you desire him even more.

“And? What happened next?” he breathes against your ear; lips now nibbling on your earlobe. 

He is now trying to warm you up…

“Well,” you whisper back, “We’ve been… playing …” Your arms—freed of bonds—slide around his neck, pulling him closer to you for a deep kiss. You shift on his lap so you straddle him; but for some reason Vyn lets out a deep, guttural moan, as if…

You blink. Something feels different . 

It is right at the moment that you realize that your ass does feel fuller, somehow, despite wearing the plug with the cat’s tail ever since you dropped by his place…

…the plug which, you now remember, had been removed before you passed out on the table earlier…

You take a quick cursory look at the table to your left. There it is, the anal plug that you have been wearing until recently, on the surface of the table. And right beside it, is your leather leash, and a bottle of what seems to be lubricant.

Wait, how did it get there? Your face heats up a little. Was I so out of it that I didn’t notice him grab some lube?

You shift your ass slightly to try and confirm your suspicion: It gets you a breathy gasp from your lover, and a lewd promise to get back at you until you see stars.

Vyn has replaced the plug with his own cock when you were still out of it. 

"Someone's enjoying my surprise a little too much?"

You cannot help grinning at him, and you tighten your ass inside, just a little, to enjoy the sound of Vyn's little moans. 

“Oh, is my pet teasing me now?” Vyn says, his authoritative air coming back to edge out his unhinged state of mind from earlier. “Let us play another game, then. I wonder who will last longer this time around.”

Once again with precise handling he shifts you to his desired position: still sitting on his lap but facing away from him, with your ass impaled on his stiff cock that is fully hilted and deep inside you.

“Now for this game,” Vyn makes use of his voice once again to full effect; you feel as if his words are massaging your nape, making your hairs stand on end. “You are not to do anything. Do not move. Do you understand this very simple instruction, little kitten?”

You are quite tempted to move your ass—his pleasure is directly tied to your own this time around, now that his cock has replaced your plug—to further tease him, but you also do not want to ruin the mood that he has carefully set up for you. “Yes, Dr. Richter ,” you reply, reverting to the honorific he demands that you address him with.

“ Good girl .” 

Once more, that sweet, melodious voice washes over your sense of hearing. His murmurs are accompanied by his hands running down your body until they settle on your thighs; fingers slide down the tender flesh of your inner thighs and their voluptuous advance stops just a couple of inches away from your once again moistening slit.

You manage to obey without any trouble, for the first few minutes. It isn’t hard to refrain from any sort of movement as you sit on his lap; Vyn is graceful enough to let you settle on his thighs in a relatively comfortable position. 

No, the issue is how long you can withstand not taking the chance to tease him.

You try to push your luck. “Dr. Richter—”

“I do not remember granting you the privilege to talk, kitten,” Vyn cuts you off almost immediately. Your impertinence also gets you a sharp pinch on your inner thigh, and you yelp in pain. “ Quiet .”

You were about to voice out your complaint—as is your second nature—but you catch yourself before even a single word forms in your mouth.

“ Good girl, ” Vyn whispers next to your ear again. Your attempt to correct yourself does not go unnoticed, and you are amply rewarded with his fingers lightly brushing your wet cunt. “I wonder how to—hahh—reward you…”

An almost imperceptible twitching inside your ass reminds you that Vyn is also suffering along with you, to a certain extent.

His other hand creeps up to your breast; you try to bite back a gasp as he tweaks your nipple with the lightest of pressure, just enough to make you want to moan out loud, for his fingers to touch you more…

All of your focus is paid towards the need to comply with his No Speaking rule that you don’t notice your hips starting to move…

“Hahhh—” A sharp intake of breath as Vyn nuzzles your hair. “You impudent little wench,” he mutters, and his hips snap against your ass in a single yet strong movement that leaves you begging him to be careful, that it is only your first time to be taken in such a manner—

“Ah!!! Vyn, please, be careful—” Such is your mild distress that you forget addressing him with his honorific, yet again.

Fast, shallow breaths warm your nape as Vyn buries his face in your hair; he cannot stop thrusting inside you, now that he already started. His arms wrap around your waist; all he can do now is to hold back and savor each slide in and out of your incredibly hot flesh and how tight you feel around his cock. “You started this, moppet,” he whispers, voice shuddering. “You should, as Marius is probably wont to say,” a nip at the back of your neck. “ Enjoy the ride .”

“What the hell?!” You moan out loud, trying your hardest to relax as he fucks you in the ass, You have an idea how anal sex goes, but nothing has ever prepared you for how different it feels: the sensation even more intense; you feel every inch of him moving in and out of you, even more than when fucks you the usual way. It is not painful, but…

Vyn must have either felt or heard your slight distress, for he asks, “Does it hurt?”

You grit your teeth, not willing to stop, mainly for his pleasure. You’d kill to have him take his pleasure from your body, and your body alone. “N-no…”

“Really?” he presses, yet the movement of his hips does not stop. “You seem to be tense.”

“Y-yeah…” you nod like a trooper. “I think I only need to get used to this…”

“Hmm.”

With a firm grip on the underside of one of your thighs he pushes your hips slightly upward until only his tip is buried in your ass. “Hold that position,” comes his firm command.

You feel him reach for something; after a few seconds you hear a bottle being squeezed of its contents. 

“Let us try again, see if you like it better now,” he whispers, and once again electric currents spread across your body in response to his almost hypnotic tone. You were about to close your eyes, wondering how a voice can feel as soft, yet tangible like silk, but instead you gasp as he resumes his movement behind you. 

Vyn slides the rest of his length inside you with ease now, his cock slathered with what feels like a liberal amount of lubricant; you can only sigh with how much more comfortable it feels this time around.

“Ohh…yes, it feels much, much better now,” you moan. “It still feels strange, but…better…?”

A honeyed laugh tickles the skin of your nape. “That is fortunate,” he whispers. “Because even if you do not like it, I may have difficulty stopping myself, little kitten,” a soft bite to your neck. “Would you even want your gift to go to waste?”

“N-no…” you answer as your hand surreptitiously creeps towards the throbbing flesh between your thighs. But Vyn swats it away, without missing the beat of his thrusts into your ass. 

“You are not allowed to pleasure yourself, not yet…”

“Vyn—ah!”

Another strong pinch on your thigh.

“Doctor…ah—” The void in your pussy, begging to be filled, is all too palpable now. “Please, I—”

Another laugh, once again quite unhinged . “You deserve this treatment, kitten,” he whispers, his breathy whisper almost a hiss. “Do you know what you even do to me?”

You blink at his words. “W-what…?”

You can feel the movement of his hips slightly pick up speed. “I once thought myself better than all these men to burn with lust, whose passions are stolen from more worthy pursuits, only to be squandered in the confines of their bedrooms…”

A low, guttural groan vibrates from his throat, and Vyn licks the shell of your ear as his arms tighten his hold around your body, like a snake taking hold of his meal, about to devour you…

“Vyn…”

“...Yet you made me realize that I am no better, that I am a hypocrite for thinking such, that I am debased as any other…”

His breaths come faster, and he now starts to rail you from underneath. “You have inflicted this within me, Rosa, and you should take responsibility…”

You grit your teeth, trying to keep up, withstand, the intensity of whatever it is you are feeling: the pummeling is stronger, faster, yet you can still feel his every inch moving inside you and leaving you with a vivid image of how vulgar he must look right now, fucking you where you think you shouldn’t be…

“Vyn, please,” you beg him now. “Let me come…”

A dark, breathy chuckle this time. “Tell me, is your body mine, to do as I please with it?”

One of his hands once again slides down to your swollen cunt. “Well, my little kitten?” You know that he is asking you to beg, once again.

And you are only too happy to oblige. “Please…” You gulp before continuing, “... Master .”

A sharp hiss, and Vyn starts fucking your cunt with three fingers. “Oh…oh god!” You cry out, all too overwhelmed once again, and your release comes suddenly like an explosion the moment his thumb starts rubbing your clit.

Your loud moans of confused, overwhelmed pleasure is joined by his passionate groans as he fucks you, his movements lacking any semblance of control, or measure, and all you can feel from him, as you are falling deep into the haze of your own ecstasy is his deep, dark obsession of you, and his need to own you, to mark you as his, and his alone. 

Everything ends as he shoots his seed inside you—his maddened voice clamoring for you in the warm, balmy night—and you wonder if anyone has heard, if anyone else understands the message that you are his, and that Vyn Richter can never be owned by anyone else but you.

===

When you open your eyes once again Vyn is still holding you close to him, but he has already slipped out of you, and in his cock’s place is a sticky, uncomfortable feeling that makes you squirm in his lap.

A light kiss on your forehead. “Did you enjoy that, my love?” he asks. You look up into his eyes, and you can only see him , with none of his commanding air, nor hints of his unhinged shadow marring his gold gaze.

You nod. “Mmhm. Though what about you ?” You ask. “It’s a birthday present, after all…”

A throaty laugh. “ Immensely . My god, Rosa,” he marvels at you as he caresses your cheek. “You are amazing. I am not a religious person, but I find myself thanking the powers that be for even having met you.”

“I guess that’s a huge compliment?” You say, a tad cheekily, before leaning in for a kiss. You find yourself wincing afterwards, after the slight movement reminds you of the discomfort in your derriere.

“I…I am sorry for getting carried away,” your favorite doctor murmurs as he now stands up, gathering you into his arms in a princess carry. “I shall help clean you up.”

“Thank you, Vyn,” you whisper into his neck. “Maybe rest a bit afterwards?”

“Heh.” Vyn only grins as he looks down at you, a glint of cruelty showing before it dissipates as quickly as it appeared. “Tired already? Unfortunately my pet, I am far from done. ”

And that is when you realize that the bathroom also counts as another room, and you are not spared of being taken there, as well.

#tears of themis #tears of themis fanfic #vyn richter #vyn richter smut #mo yi #mo yi smut