#he would like show his fangs at any inconvenience

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 48: Fitz's Charms

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June 1905

TW: mind control, blood drinking

Fitz once again had a plan.

It wasn't much of one. But the past few days in the auction house, he'd had little to do but sleep, eat, play solitaire, read the books and magazines Alexander brought him, and think about how he could escape his seemingly inevitable fate.

It certainly didn't help that Alexander would fix him with a look of intense longing every time he returned to the room, catching Fitz in his gaze and invoking the intense, unnatural urge for fangs in his neck. The horror of the night of the auction hadn't washed that compulsion from his mind at all, and his dreams as he drifted off to sleep were full of  Alexander pulling him close, whispering his mesmeric song in Fitz's ear, humming softly as he bit into Fitz's tender flesh...

And yet, despite Alexander's very obvious desire, and the fact that he now owned Fitz (give or take his terrifying sire, who Fitz wished to put far from his mind), he never so much as laid a hand on him, explaining that he'd rather feed at home.

Fitz didn't accept this. They had complete privacy in the auction house room and  Alexander had originally intended to buy Fitz for exactly this purpose. He'd barely been able to hold himself back in the showroom, and he was obviously struggling to hold himself back now. No, there was something else at play. After giving it a great deal of thought, Fitz concluded that the most likely explanation was that Alexander did not want to grow too attached to him. Despite his grand promises, it was clearly difficult for Alexander to defy his sire in any way. If Alexander's plans to kill the Maestro failed, it would be much easier for Alexander if he didn't care, if he could simply hand over Fitz without a second thought.

Well, that wouldn't do.

Endearing himself to Alexander would be the key to his safety and eventually his escape, Fitz reckoned, particularly if Fitz could avoid getting entangled in inconvenient affection himself. It would possibly afford him more freedom and privilege, and the more Alexander valued him, the more he'd be spurred on to save Fitz from his cruel sire.

And there was one obvious way to start that process: enticing Alexander to feed.

The fact that this plan happened to dovetail with his own enthralled desires was just a happy accident, nothing more.

Fitz had been scheming the entire carriage ride to Alexander's manor, trying to look as enticing as possible in the shapeless frock the auction house had provided for him. Alexander spent most of the ride very interested in the bland scenery of the country road, looking anywhere but at Fitz, his aura betraying where his interests truly lay and sending Fitz's head spinning.

"Well, here we are. Please make yourself at home." said Alexander, removing his coat and shoes at the doorway as Fitz looked around. The manor looked considerably smaller than his childhood home, certainly older, and infused with the musty smell of old books.

A dusty intellectual, then, just as Fitz had suspected. He could work with that. Lord knows he'd charmed his way into the homes of many such an intellectual just by feigning interest in rare plants or mystery stories or whatever bee they had in their bonnet.

"I should show you around," saidAlexander. "This will be your home, now, and I want you to be comfortable. You're free to go where you please in the manor, and use what you will, as long as you don't harm the books or the instruments, or enter my private chambers uninvited. Is that clear?"

"Clear as crystal, sir," said Fitz, deliberately stepping much too close to Alexander, enjoying how he squirmed. It gave Fitz the welcome illusion that he had the upper hand, despite being locked into the manor of the vampire who owned him.

Alexander first took Fitz into an old-fashioned kitchen that was spotlessly clean. "I'll provide you with whatever food you request, but I'll expect you to cook it yourself. Can you cook?"

No, no he could not. Fitz's family had had a chef, and since running away, Fitz had only rented out rooms without access to a kitchen. He'd subsisted mainly on sandwiches, the cheapest diner food he could find, and, when he'd worked as a waiter, as much food from back of house as he could snatch. But Alexander didn't need to know that. How hard could basic cooking be? "I'll try not to burn the place down, sir."

"Burn the place down? You wouldn't --"

"That was a joke, sir."

"...Oh, yes." Alexander took a deep breath, apparently having taken that entirely seriously. 

"Are there any other thralls living here, sir?" Fitz already suspected the answer, given Alexander's air of desperation and how clean the kitchen was.

"No, it's only you."

"Very good, sir." That would certainly work to his advantage.

As Alexander left the kitchen and Fitz followed at his heels, he couldn't help but think of the food that awaited him. He believed that Alexander would keep him fed -- after all, he was apparently depending on Fitz alone for blood, and even the auction house had kept its prisoners fed well. His mouth was watering thinking of the steak and chicken he could be eating.

He'd just need to learn how to use a stove first. A minor detail.

"I hope you'll enjoy this. It's my music room," said Alexander, leading Fitz into an ornate room with a grand piano at its center. It was covered in a mess of sheet music and the bench was worn, indicating that it wasn't just a piano for show as many rich families had, but very well-used. An impressive collection of other instruments sat on the floor or hung from racks on the walls - a beautiful guitar that Fitz immediately coveted, several fine-looking violins, a brightly-painted harpsichord, a polished oboe.

"Yes, I do enjoy it, sir," said Fitz, lighting up. This was ideal -- music would be a way to pass the time and endear himself to his new master all at the same time. He gestured toward that gorgeous piano. "Do you mind, sir?" 

"Not at all. You did mention you play, didn't you?"

"I do, sir," said Fitz with a cheeky grin. "Just listen." He sat down at the bench, making a dramatic show of stretching his arms and cracking his knuckles, pleased to see Alexander giving him full attention. With a deft hand, he launched into a familiar ragtime tune, keeping time by tapping his foot on the floor. He was out of practice, having not played a music gig in several months, but despite a wrong note here and there he could still produce a pleasant enough tune. He looked up to see Alexander absolutely enraptured, a better response than expected considering his rusty piano skills.

"That was wonderful," he said. "What song was that? I've never heard it."

"You've never heard the Maple Leaf Rag, sir?" 

"I tend to be rather sheltered when it comes to newer music."

"Is that so, sir?" With a smile and a flourish, Fitz stood up and gestured to the piano bench. "In that case, I would like to hear some of your older music, if you don't mind playing, sir."

Alexander looked surprised and pleased at Fitz's request. "If you don't mind listening, I don't mind playing. It's far from perfect, though, I should warn you."

As Fitz leaned gently against the piano, Alexander took a small breath before starting in on the most complicated and arresting piano music Fitz had heard in his life. Nimble hands flew across the keys in patterns that were nearly impossible to follow with the naked eye, and despite Alexander claiming his performance was far from perfect, Fitz couldn't have identified one wrong note or missed beat if he tried. It was the sort of song and performance that demanded full attention, driving all other considerations out of the listener's head.

Despite the intense skill required to play the piece, Alexander's expression was not one of concentration. Instead, he seemed far away, as though his mind had departed his body.

"I'm a bit rusty. Apologies," said Alexander in all seriousness as he finished, as though he hadn't just given a virtuoso performance as casually as Fitz could plunk out a children's tune.

"That was... astounding, sir," said Fitz, caught off guard enough by the music that he didn't have a calculated answer. "I've never heard anything like it. What was the song?"

"It's a piano concerto written by a vampire composer, so not one you would have likely heard of. His works take advantage of the greater nimbleness afforded our kind." Alexander seemed oddly melancholy about having had the chance to show off a truly impressive skill. "Anyway, why don't we move on?"

He stood up abruptly from the piano bench, leaving Fitz to follow again, wondering what his next move should be. He'd thought the piano would be a winner, but it had only seemed to increase the distance between him and Alexander. 

"Allow me to show you my pride and joy, the library," said Alexander.

Fitz inwardly scoffed. How could a library possibly be more interesting than the music room? He'd seen plenty of personal libraries in his time, and had never been all that impressed by a rich person's ability to gather a bunch of dusty books they never actually read. Still, he'd have to pretend to be impressed.

It turned out that there was no need to pretend. This wasn't some small parlor with a few bookshelves. No, this so-called library actually took up what looked to be an entire wing of the manor. It was two stories high with bookshelves stretching straight to the ceiling, punctuated by rickety wooden ladders. And like the piano, it was very clearly in use, with books scattered all around the chairs and tables and lying in big stacks on a large wooden desk. 

"Well, what do you think?" said Alexander, clearly looking for approval in a way he hadn't with his piano playing.

"It's an astonishing amount of books, sir," said Fitz. "Have you actually read every one of these?"

"Most of them, yes, but there are some I haven't read cover to cover. Some of them are astoundingly dull histories that mostly have a place in cross-referencing other works."

Fitz leaned in close once more. "Astoundingly dull histories, sir? You certainly do know how to charm a man."

 Alexander didn't move away. "You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you've attempting to charm me."

"And is it working, sir?" Fitz stepped closer, pleased when  Alexander found himself nearly pressed against one of his bookshelves.

"Perhaps."  Alexander seemed to be trying to compose himself. "Although I confess I don't see what the purpose is. At the auction house, you were trying to convince me to buy you. You did succeed, even if the ultimate outcome wasn't what either of us hoped. What are you trying to accomplish here?"

"Isn't it enough to want to please you, sir? Must you assume I have an ulterior motive?"

 Alexander seemed amused. "Oh, I know you have an ulterior motive. I'm only asking what it is."

"I was just thinking that you bought me for a reason, sir." Fitz had him practically backed up against the bookshelf by now. "And that reason so happens to coincide with the spell that our mutual acquaintance placed on me. So it's less of an ulterior motive, and more that our interests conveniently align."

 Alexander's eyes darted to Fitz's neck, his composure rapidly waning, and Fitz felt a thrill of power. For the first time since that fateful night when Miss Lily had volunteered to be his assistant, he felt like he had control over the situation, that he could skillfully manipulate things to go his way.

"Lily did condition you very well," said  Alexander, his voice wavering. "But I did intend for you to get settled in first before I sated my appetite."

"I'm pretty well settled, sir. I think I'm going to be able to make myself very comfortable here. But I don't want you holding back on what you really want to do. That never works out for anyone."

"Is that so?"

"You wanted me to offer my blood to you, didn't you, sir? That's what you told me when we first met. Well, here I am. Offering." Fitz shamelessly pulled aside the collar of his frock, exposing his neck, enjoying the way  Alexander's desire was settling around his mind, the way he had the vampire eating out of the palm of his hand. 

It happened so fast.

Fitz was being pushed onto the couch, cold hands gripping his shoulders, a mesmerizing song ringing in his ears. Unlike  Alexander's measured song at the auction house, this was desperate, needy, wrapping around Fitz's mind and pulling it beneath the waves before he could even comprehend what was happening. His plans and manipulation no longer mattered, dashed to pieces in the whirlpool of  Alexander's irresistible voice.

The only thing that mattered now was listening.

"You will obey, won't you?" whispered Alexander in his ear.

"Yes, Master." The instinctive reply tumbled from his lips, and he wasn't remotely prepared for how right it felt. How good he felt falling back into the magic.

No, the vampire was never eating out of the palm of his hand. That was an illusion, smoke and mirrors he set up to trick himself. Alexander was absolutely in control, and there was nothing he could do about it. But unlike the absolute control Alexander's sire had used on his body, this was like rest and calm and bliss all at once, quieting his busy mind, soothing it in a way he was rarely soothed, forcing a sweet surrender.

"You'll feel no pain. Only pleasure when I drink from you."

"Only pleasure, Master." That's it, that's all there was. Only pleasure from being buried in a tidal wave of his master's desire.

And then the fangs were in his neck, finally fulfilling the promise that was made to him the moment he'd been enthralled, and the remainder of his mind crumbled in an instant. His master drank hungrily from the twin wounds, lapping at the precious drops of blood, as Fitz slumped onto his shoulder, sinking into a euphoric daze. Fitz could somehow feel every drop of his master's intense desire for him, and it felt like Narcissus looking into his pool, like a starving man served a lavish banquet, like he would never be satiated.

He was wanted, oh, he was wanted and wanted and wanted --

The feeding was over too soon, too soon for Fitz to fully savor the dizziness in his head and the heaviness in his limbs from his master's feast, the proof of his quality. The proof that Fitz was worth something to someone.

"Such a good thrall," Alexander murmured as he cradled Fitz's head against his chest. "You're perfect, Fitz. You're absolutely perfect. And I'm not going to let anyone else touch you, not my sire, not anyone. You're mine."

"Yours, sir," said Fitz, and he had promised that very thing to so many people, but he'd never actually meant it until now.

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Next time, Alexander gets drunk.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin

@whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist

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@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada

@typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia

@a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

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@strawbearydreams @ghost-whump

#whump #whump writing #vampire whump #vampire whumper #mind control #blood drinking #rare bookseller #alexander #fitz

[crazypsychonerdstuff]

Excuse the extremely detailed request, but if you are ok with it, could you do a Black Hat x reader oneshot where the reader is a demon/eldritch abomination similar to Black Hat and they work for him and they both have feelings for eachother but neither of them say anything for a long time and it eventually takes reader getting injured in some way for him to confess to her?

For some background to where the idea came from, My horse pushed me over the other day into a patch of nettles and they stung my hand and arm pretty bad and I had a reaction that meant I needed to get antihistamines from the doctor because it was so bad. while I was recovering, I was struggling to do everyday tasks as the grip in my hand was affected, and I kept dropping stuff and not able to grip thinklgs like door handles properly! It got me thinking how would our favourite eldritch horror react if the person he secretly cared about was injured? Not enough to put them out of action completely, but more just an inconvenience that was affecting their day to day life?

I also remember thinking at one point "what if he kissed it better? Like, his kisses literally made it better? eldritch saliva having healing properties or something?" Idk. It popped into my head and it seemed like an interesting concept at the time!

Sorry if this is too detailed or weird! You don't have to write it if you don't want to! I just don't see many active blogs that write for Black Hat at the moment!

-🍉

Oh no! Hope you're feeling better now! Bad horse!

Sorry this is so late btw... it's been sat half finished in my drafts since before Christmas! 😱

Hope this will suffice! It's been too long since I've written anything other than headcanons!! I think the extra detail and context actually helped me write this, so thanks!

CW: mildly suggestive? If you squint? Thought I'd mention it just in case. Eldritch abomination licks your hand. So if that makes anyone uncomfortable, I guess... 🤷

Anyhow, without further ado:

CRASH!

That was the fourth time you'd dropped something today. Luckily though, it was almost time for you to retire from your cleaning duties for the night, but before you had chance to pick up the dropped items, Black Hat growled at you, his fangs showing in a vicious snarl. "What's wrong with you?! you're being even more of a klutz than usual."

You growled back, not intimidated in the least by the other eldritch creature. "I hurt my hand earlier, but what do you care?"

Black Hat huffed and rolled his eyes, his voice becoming softer than you though possible for him: "Why didn't you say something? What did you do?" he put his pen down and turned to face you fully; 'was he actually implying he was going to listen to me?' You thought in disbelief.

"I fell in some of those damned 'killer nettles' of yours when I went out to fetch something." You snarled back, fangs showing slightly in agitation, though any malice remaining in your voice no longer directed at the other Demon but at yourself for your own clumsiness.

His face dropped, the remainder of his malevolent snarl transforming to a look of pure worry, something that looked unsettlingly foreign coming from him: "You bloody idiot! Why didn't you tell me? Those things cause paralysis, you're lucky you're not human, or you'd likely be unable to move for days at the very least. You could be dead!"

You were taken aback by his clear concern, thoughts rushing through your head 'Was he alright? This wasn't like him. Was this even Black Hat sat in front of you right now?' You looked at him not quite sure what to say or do. "Sir?"

"Come here. And don't call me 'sir' when we're alone." His voice was quiet, and despite maintaining his usual air of confidence, the eldritch being refused eye contact, instead looking to the papers on his desk.

"But Si- Black Hat..." as if you were not already confused, his lack of spite really threw you off guard.

"Just come here, will you?" he held out a gloved hand to you. "I just want to check the damage it's done. I'm not going to bite you." If you didn't know better, you'd have said that a small smirk played on his lips at that last comment.

Hesitantly, you took a step toward him, reaching out your injured hand to rest it in his outstretched one. The moment your hands came into contact with each other, he gently pulled you over to where he was sat, the suddenness of the movement causing you to lose your balance and fall into his lap.

Black Hat grinned. "Not so bad, was it? Now, let me see the damage." He turned your hand over in his own, which was surprisingly warm. You'd always imagined he'd be cold for some reason...

You breathed an internal sigh of relief when his attention was no longer on your face and instead on your hand, for by now, you were certain your face had become a shade of red to rival a tomato.

"It could have been a lot worse, but luckily for you, your reactions seem similar to my own. Without treatment, it should return to normal in a few days." he looked back up at you after assessing the damage done to your hand, "but..." and he paused, bringing your injured hand up to his lips and softly kissed the stinging wound.

If you weren't blushing before, you sure as hell were now. 'Who was this man? And what had he done with my boss?' You thought, a mild panic seeping into you at the out of character display of affection.

Ok, so it was no big secret that you had a crush on the other demon, so needless to say, you quite enjoyed the affection he was practically showering you with - for him at least - but it still seemed wrong, or at least a little off; this was not like Black Hat at all.

You opened your mouth to speak, only to shut it again, unable to form words as his forked tongue slipped out to gently lick the stinging red patch covering the palm of your hand and part of your wrist, all the time maintaining eye contact. Despite the embarrassing position, you were beyond grateful for the fact that you were sitting down as you was positive that, had you been standing, your legs would have given out the moment his lips touched your skin.

"... But, with the appropriate remedy, it should be better by tomorrow morning." The eldritch creature smiled, actually smiled - not his usual malevolent, twisted grin - at you. "As you know, to lesser beings, an eldritch being such as myself's saliva is positively lethal, but to a creature of a similar nature, it has rather potent healing properties." The eldritch's arm around your waist tightened slightly, pulling you back against his firm chest.

"Black -" your voice was barely above a whisper, too stunned to say much else.

He purred quietly next to your ear in response before nuzzling into your neck affectionately. "You have no idea what you do to me, my dear."

his quiet voice, along with his breath fanning over your burning skin, sent pleasant shivers down your spine, and it took all of your willpower not to lean back and melt completely into his warm embrace. "wha-what's got into you, sir? Are y-are you feeling alright?"

"Never better, my love..." He hummed, leaning his chin on your shoulder. "I regret not telling you sooner, it's been torturing me since you came to work for me..." he paused for a moment as if considering whether to actually tell you or not. "...I love you."

those three words stunned you into complete silence. what had Demencia put in his coffee?!

"Sir... I-I'm not sure what is wrong with you, but you are not yourself... I think maybe I should get Flug." not that you didn't like the attention you were getting from your boss, just that it was not like him at all and you were by now convinced that somebody (Demencia) had somehow gotten him drunk for some terrible prank.

"Look, don't get Flug there's nothing he can do. It is true that I love you and I have ever since you came to work for me..." it was Black Hat's turn to avoid eye contact. "I know, you find it hard to believe, and so did I for a long time, but I guess flug has his uses after all, as it was his slip up that gave me the confidence to finally confess." The eldritch abomination suddenly didn't seem so terrifying to you. In fact, he seemed, dare you think, quite sweet.

You finally gave in and melted into his embrace; "I love you too, Black Hat." You brought your hand up to the side of his head and tilted your own so that your lips met his own.

#my writing #black hat #black hat x reader #villainous #villanos #x reader

[the-wisteria-house]

The Arrangement (Rengoku x Reader)- Chapter 2

Arranged marriage series

You and Kyojuro have a demon tailing you, but Kyojuro is unsure of its exact location or if it's even just a single demon. He can't risk your safety by prematurely attacking, so he is forced to play the waiting game. Will you make it out unscathed?

Warnings: mentions of Alcoholism,verbal abuse, arranged marriage,and cannon typical violence.

Kyojuro's always been a fighter. He's always stood up for what he believes is right, and while it's brought him great inconveniences at times, he's never once regretted staying true to himself and his mother's wishes. Even then, as he was faced with your unknown foe, the only thing that echoed in his mind was the promise he made to you, and he had every intention of fulfilling it. Even as Kyojuro made the realization that there was more than one demonic presence, his determination wasn't shaken in the slightest. Nothing was going to harm you as long as he still stood.

Kyojuro was on guard, keen senses looking for any sudden shifts in the air. Then he felt it; the figure behind you both was picking up speed, and quickly closing in on you both. The time to attack would be soon, he had to be ready, and he was. As you neared a particularly shaded part of the trail, a figure leaped out at you with an animalistic growl and unquestionable blood lust. Within seconds, Kyojuro had his sword drawn, and he was in position to strike down apone his demonic foe, though things didn't go the way he expected...

"Son of a-" you jumped in surprise as your fist made swift contact with what appeared to be a demon's nose, which released a sickening crunch. The demon hissed as it stumbled back, body colliding with a nearby tree, despratly clutching its now bloodied nose in minor horror, "Y-you bitch, how dare you!?" the demon screeched as a stream of blood escaped in between its long fingers, " I think you broke it! How the hell did such a pathetic small thing like you break my nose!!!"

'Di-did she just punch that demon in the face!?!' Kyojuros' face was stuck in a confused smile before he came to his senses and quickly leapt towards the demon. Ready to finish the job, though this attempt like the last was also interrupted by a yell.

"Rengoku-San, duck!" Kyojuro followed your instructions and narrowly missed what would have surely been a fatal blow to the back of his head.

'So I was right about there being more than one demon, but it seems they have teleportation abilities...' Kyojuro turned to face the second demon who donded a cocky grin, showing off its razor-sharp ivory fangs.

"Oooo, a slayer! This should be interesting." The first demon cackles menacingly before lunging a Kyojuro with inhumane speed. Kyojuro swiftly jumps to the right before bringing his blade down on the fowl creature's neck, severing it as if it were butter.

Kyojuros' attention then turned to the second demon, who seemed angrier at her fallen companions failer than the slayer who had debilitated him, "He was always overconfident! Damn it, why didn't he ever listen!? He's better off dead anyway!" While Kyojuro agreed that the demon was overconfident and foolishly impulsive, he was disgusted that the demons comrade would go as far as to be glade he was slain.

"He was your comrade, and you feel he's better off dead? Despicable, you demons truly have no compassion in your hearts! Even for those of your own kind!" Kyojuro readied his sword before quickly dashing forward with God like speed. You could have sworn you saw flames dance around his blade as he moved, "FIRST FORM: UNKNOWING FIRE!" You were in awn as you watched as he made a horizontal slash aimed at the demon's neck. The demon narrowly missed the powerful assault, jumping away at the last possible moment, though she didn't get away unscathed. Her arm appeared to have been severed and blood gushed from the wound. The demonic woman was less than pleased to say the least, "You damn bastard! Look what you did to my arm! How dare you?!" The blood lust was apparent in how she lunged at Rengoku. Her single arm was stretched out, and razor-sharp claws aimed for his face. Rengoku didn't seem to be phased in the slightest, you didn't know whether to be amazed or horrified at this fact, "SECOND FORM: RISING SCORCHING SUN!" But it seems you had nothing to worry for, as you saw him release an arching vertical slash upwards that decapitated the demon instantly. You found yourself utterly speechless...

"Holy shit- you're a demon slayer?" You looked as if you were a fish out of water. Everything made sense now - his broad, muscular frame, the Katana (which you had no clue how it didn't draw the attention of pedestrians), and so much more. The only thing missing was his uniform.

"Yes, I sure am! I have been for a while now!" His voice boomed out only to be interrupted by an irritated voice.

"Hey you fuckers! Can you shut up? I'm not done disintegrating yet! I don't want the last thing to hear to be you two philandering!" Your eyes go wide as you hear the voice of the woman, not even focusing on her inappropriate comment.

'What the fuuuuuu-' you take a step back, bumping into something warm and firm. That something was Rengoku, not that you cared all that much in at moment you were too busy trying to not lose your crap while listening to her severed head talking.

"Rengoku, why is she still - ya know?" You covered your fear and disgust with a calm exterior as you looked at the man behind you.

"Demons can talk until their mouths are burnt away, but there's no need to worry, she can't cause you any harm from here on, and even if she could I wouldn't allow it." Gone was the booming voice from earlier, and in its place was a calm and comforting voice. If you had any doubts earlier, they dissipated with his assurance. You couldn't help the blush that spread across your face as you looked into his beautiful tricolored eyes. You found yourself wanting to know more about mysterious man.

"We're under an hour from my family estate. If you want, we can take a break once we exit the forest?" Apone feeling his breath on your cheek you came to the realization you were still leaning against him and quickly moved away in embarrassment. Hoping to save yourself from further humiliation, you schooled your expression into one of disinterest and declined his offer, "Thank you for your consideration, but I'll be fine."

Kyojuro nodded in agreement, and so you both continued along the shaded trail. Thankfully, you didn't have any other surprise demon attacks before you made it out of the forest.

"(l/n)-san, if I may ask, how are you familiar with the Demon Slayer corps? Not many people know of its existence." Kyojuro looked at you with curious eyes, and after a moment of contemplation you decided you didn't see the harm in telling him, "My father was a slayer before his death." Kyojuro gave you a sad smile, but unlike others, there didn't seem to be pity behind it, but understandment of some kind.

"I'm sorry to hear about your father. There's always risk of not returning home in our line of work, but you never truly realize how quickly life can be taken away until you lose someone..." You looked at your hands, deliberating how to respond.

"That just makes life more sacred... the idea of growing old and dying... leaving something for the next generation, it's a beautiful thing." You say simply not turning to meet your companion's ruby and golden orbs.

'I hardly know this woman, but something about her is......different?' Kyojuro yurned to know more about you. The way you spoke...was oddly familiar. The DeJa'Vu it brought him was undeniable, but not unwelcomed. You reminded him slightly of someone, but who, he could not place....

"How long have you been in the corps? You said a while back there, right?" You question as he eagerly nodded in conformation.

"Yes, i first joined when I was 14, so almost 6 years, I'd say." He states proudly. "That's a long time for a slayer. You must have skill of the highest caliber." The man only let out a Harty laugh, "Why thank you (l/n)- San, you're too kind!" You couldn't help the smile that broke through your calm facade, and only for a moment, you both forgot you weren't just two young people conversing in the hopes of making a new friend. It was a happy moment, but as soon as it started it ended leaving a bittersweet taste in your mouth because, in the end, no matter how much you wanted to forget, you were betrothed to one another. With this thought in mind, you continued on your way to the Rengoku estate, a heavy weight wearing down apone you.

As Kyojuro promised, it wasn't too long before you reached the estate, and as you stood Infront of the proud entrance into the estate, you tried to fight the anxiousness that constricted itself around you in a vice like death grip.

"My little brother has been looking forward to your arrival! I don't think there's a thing in the estate he hasn't cleaned in preparation." Kyojuro's assurance helped cool your nerves before he pushed open the gate, revealing a young boy who bore a striking resemblance to himself. Said boy quickly set his broom aside before running to meet you both.

"Aniue, I'm glad to see you both had a safe trip! I was worried when I saw it was nearing nighfall and you still hadn't arrived." The young boy let out a sigh of relief as he neared and saw his brother was unscathed.

"Sorry for worrying you, Senjuro. There was a little hiccup on the way here, but we made it before night fall, thankfully!" The boisterous man smiled before stepping aside and jestering to you, "This is (l/n)-San! (L/n)-san, this is my little brother Senjuro, who I was telling you about."

You ignored the young boys' prominent blush at that comment and bowed politely, "It a pleasure to meet you, Rengoku-kun." Senjuro bowed in return before replying, "You can just call me Senjuro if you'd like. I don't mind!"

You smiled at the flustered boy before you, "Well then, I must insist that you call me (y/n)." The boy gave you a perplexed look before responding, "Are you sure that's alright?" You couldn't help but want to laugh at the odd look he was gave you, but fought to maintain a schooled expression, before responding, "Im sure, but of course, you don't have to if it makes you uncomfortable."

Senjuro quickly shook his head side to side, "No, no, I don't mind at all (y/n)-San! I just didn't want you to feel uncomfortable!" He reassured, as his older brother couldn't help but chuckle at the both of you, "Well, now that we have that all sorted out, why don't we all head inside?"

"That's a good idea, brother! I'll make you and (y/n) tea. You both must be tired after all that walking." With that, the three of you made your way into the estate.

"Brother, would you mind showing (y/n) San to her room while I prepare the tea?"

"I don't mind at all, follow me (l/n)- San!" Kyojuro smiled before leading you down a long corridor before stopping in front of a shoji door that had beautiful, but slightly faded Crains painted on it.

"Here's your room! Mine is right across the hall, and Senjuros is the one next to mine to the left. If you have any problems, my door is always open, and I'm sure my little brother feels the same!" You could tell his words were sincere, but that confused you... You wanted to ask why he was being so kind to you? Why wasn't he angry at you? But the words were caught in your throat, and despite every fiber of you wanting to know why he wasn't angry already, you found a different question escaping from your lips.

"Thank you for the hospitality, Rengoku-san. Are there any rules I should know about?" He blinked; expression unreadable as he seemed to contemplate something... He didn't want you to feel trapped or as if you were walking on eggshells during your time there, but he also knew it would be best to warn you of his father's ill temper. He hoped it would help prevent you from ever being on the receiving end of one of his drunken spats, or at least postpone the inevitable. 

"This isn't a rule per say, and I don't want you to be alarmed. This is just something I feel you should know; my father usually likes to nap from 12-3 pm, during that time it's best to try to stay quiet, he can get rather angry if woken up. If you end up accidently waking him up, it's best to avoid angering him any further, so I suggest just staying out of his way." concern shone in his eyes, you knew he was serious.

"Don't worry, my mother was the same way. Your father won't even know I'm here." Your understanment seemed to help calm and reassure the man.

"I'll place my bag inside. I'll join you both in a moment."

"Okay, I'll leave you to it!" Kyojuro responded as he made his way down the hall, leaving you in front of your room.

"Home sweet home." You couldn't help the dry chuckle that escaped you as you turned and slid open the door, reveling your chambers.  The room was rather spacious compared to what you were used to. The exterior wall had shoji paneling along with a sliding door which had what looked like to have once been a beautifully detailed wisteria tree painted on it, now faded due to the sands of time. As you stepped into the room and took a closer look at the mural. You couldn't help but feel saddened at the current state of the painting, but you didn't have long to dwell on the fact. You knew you could only leave the boys waiting for so long without being rude, so you sat your belongings down next to the rolled-up tatami mat in a corner, before exiting the room with one last glance at the mural. 

With Kyojuro

Kyojuro tried to hold back a sigh as he made his way down the corridor, trying to fight off his worries for the future. . . He never pictured that marriage, a family, or even a long life was in the cards for him. He still wasn't sure if it was, or even if he had a right to any one of those things.

"Aniue, you look troubled?" Kyojuro blinked, realizing he made it to the end of the hall, "What's wrong, can I help?" Senjuros' caring words and concerned frown had a soft smile gracing Kyojuro's face.

"You have no need to worry, it's nothing I can't handle. Your big brother is strong and always protects you, right?" Senjuro nodded in agreement before Kyojuro ruffled his hair and made his way around him to sit at the dinner table, missing Senjuros quite voice, "But who will protect you, big brother?" The question went unanswered as the boy's waited a few minutes for you to join them.

"Sorry it took me so long." You apologize as you entered the living space not long after Kyojuro.

"It's no worries at all (y/n)-San! Please join us." Senjuro waved you over in a friendly manor, dawning a shy smile.

"The tea smells delicious, is it Sencha?" You asked curiously as you settled next to the young boy at the chabudai (floor table) taking in the aromic smell of the familiar tea.

"It is! Brother brought it back from his last mission."  you watched as Senjuro poured the colored liquid into each of your cups.

"Would you like sugar (y/n)-San?" the boy offered politely as he lifted the lid on the sugar cube holder, ready and awaiting your response.

"Yes, one or two, please and thank you."

Once he was done serving you, he placed 4 sugar cubes into Rengoku-sans cup unprompted, having you raise your eyebrows slightly. 

"I like mine a little sweet." Kyojuro says with his usual boisterous tone before taking a large gulp and releasing a mighty "TASTY." That had Senjuro chuckling. The microscopic smile that graced your face went unnoticed as you observed the two brothers.

"I'd say that's more than a little sweet Rengoku-san." the truth behind your jest had Senjuro to laughing and his brother joining in after. 

"I suppose you're right (l/n), but can you blame me?! It tastes so much better this way!"

You shook your head exasperated, "I'm inclined to disagree. All you taste is the sugar!"

"I think that's the point (y/n)." Senjuro said with a slight snark as he tried to stifle his giggling.

"My dearest little brother! Now you're ganging up on me, too!" Kyojuro let out a dramatic sigh and looked away feigning hurt, before he found himself laughing along with his brother. 

You found yourself wished you could pause this moment, where the cruelties of the world couldn't touch you, where there was no anger, no sadness, where there was no pain... Only shared joy, between newfound friends, who in that moment forgot why they all were talking in the first place, but alas good things never seem to last long in this cruel world.  

"What the hell is all that racket!"

Hey, guys, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! It's about to get very interesting. Feel free to let me know what you guys think below! Also, I'll be creating a tag list, so just comment below that you want to be added, and I'll make sure to do so. Thanks for reading! (Edited on 8/2/23)

Last part: Chapter 1

Next part: Chapter 3

Tag list

@tengensimppp

#rengoku fluff #rengoku x reader #rengoku x y/n #rengoku x you #rengokukyoujorou #demon slayer fandom #demon slayer kyojuro #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku senjuro #rengoku angst #kimetsu rengoku #kimetsu no yaiba rengoku #rengoku shinjuro #rengoku family #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku kyōjurō #shinjuro rengoku #deamonslayer #demon slayer angst #demon slayer fluff #rengoku fanfic #flame hashira #arranged marriage #demon slayer anime #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #rengoku ruka

[lilithfairen]

While I can't speak for every one of them, I think the big thing that makes RWBY critics so off in how they can support an in-series dictators, abusers and authoritarian types and still call themselves good people outside is that I think they fall into a different category of...activist for lack of a better word.

To me, there's several different types of activist: People who actually want to change or dismantle the oppressors to build a better society, or who want to lift up their fellow oppressed, people who are anti-oppressor for the sake of preserving their own self-image as a good person, but who wouldn't hesitate to throw it away if they think it becomes an inconvenience, or it gets in the way of their selfish desires...and people who only want to "progress" to get into the same club as the oppressor, but not actually changing the system involved.

A lot of the people who act the way they do with RWBY seem to be the kinds of people who fall into the latter categories. They like the IDEA of being against oppressors and evil, but only so long as they can indulge in the same evils and don't have to challenge their own self-image of being a "good person" in the process. They don't see the nuances of a situation so much as they just want to stuff themselves into the "good" category even if their actions and words are the complete opposite of that. Or they just hate being the targets of oppression, but don't actually want to help the oppressed, so much as elevate themselves to become part of the oppressors.

I think this attitude and mindset just bleeds into their views of RWBY, because ultimately a good chunk of the story actively criticizes and questions this mindset, highlights how ultimately these kinds of people are rarely as good as they think they are, and that drives them nuts. They want to call themselves rebels while following authoritarians who will do all the thinking for them, because it's more comfortable to indulge in cruelty when you're not the one responsible for it in your mind.

There's a RWBY character who so perfectly sums up who RWBY "critics" really are when it comes to social issues. A character that RWBY "critics" refuse to acknowledge the true nature of, probably because of how that character mirrors their own appropriation of social issues.

That character would be Adam Taurus.

Adam was happy to be treated like a hero by the White Fang, but in reality, all he cared about was hurting others. The White Fang only mattered to him when they were loyal lackeys, his weapon for hurting others. He didn't care about them, their safety, their lives. He didn't care about other Faunus other than himself or how his actions impacted them. He was happy to sic his followers on other Faunus that he saw as having wronged him in any way.

Just look at how often RWBY "critics" insult the queer fandom of the show, mock queer people who enjoy the show, treat Bumbleby fans like they're idiots, and even insist that RWBY fans don't belong in queer fandom. They insist they want "representation" in RWBY, but dismiss and disparage all of the existing representation while pretending an obvious relationship is nothing—and a great deal of that is spite over the queer relationship existing at all rather than one of the characters giving herself to an opposite-sex character. They don't want Bumbleby to be made explicit, they don't want people to acknowledge May as trans rep, they don't want queer folks to enjoy the representation the show has to offer—they genuinely desire queer folks to be punished for enjoying a show they don't like, because all they really care about is themselves.

That extends into their takes on any other social issues. Adam's a badass dudebro, therefore he must be in the absolute right and the writers derailed him and totally think fighting racism is wrong. Ironwood's the strong man in charge, so all the oppressive authoritarian stuff he does is 100% justified and every trait (explicit or even headcanoned) makes it Morally Wrong for him to be an antagonist. The themes and relevant issues don't matter at all to these people; all they care about, all that fundamentally matters to them, is the character(s) they like. The show not being what they want it to be. The offense of the creators not serving their desires alone.

#rwby critics #rwby #ask

[tr4rt]

TURTLE TOTS 2012 STYLE

With Headcanons under the cut (if I’ve done it right)

<Do not tag as T//cest>

Leo and Raph were twins so they both had a hand in raising their little brothers

The twins both refer to each other as “otouto” or “little bro(ther)” because neither of them wanted to be the big brother

Raph took on the big brother role more until he and Leo were around 13/14 and then he just kinda, slowly fell out of habit as he began kinda isolating himself and getting angrier. Luckily Leo was there to pick up the slack, but it always confused Mikey and Donnie and sometimes they’ll confuse Leo for taking care of them most the time as little kids

Raph and Leo started weapons training a couple years before Mikey and Donnie, and they ended up with a lot more scars to show for it on their hands from the beginner mistakes, but in turn learned how to help Mikey and Donnie avoid getting so banged up during training

Raph has undiagnosed ADHD, and has a special interest in both biology and medicine. He is the reason Donnie got so interested in science to begin with because he would read Donnie all his books he salvaged and later teach him all the basics of first aid in case he got hurt and couldn’t help

Mikey and Raph are Central American Snapping turtles, so they won’t get super big but they also have a few more spiky edges and fangs. Raph usually gave Mikey his share of worms to make sure he got enough protein in his diet, which contributed to why he’s so Itty bitty.

Leo and Donnie are both different types of turtles and a little jealous of the fact that Raph and Mikey share a species

Raph and Leo really freaked Splinter out as little kids because Leo didn’t talk until their 5th mutation day had passed (7~) and Raph cried at every inconvenience until he was around 10

Raph and Mikey used to finger paint, Leo and Donnie would distract Splinter until it was cleaned up

Donnie had a pyromania phase and set too many fires during his preteen years. Raph was always so upset whenever he came in with new burns.

Mikey used to tie everyone’s bandana’s into bows to help learn motor control

Donnie was an absolute menace at bath time, would hiss and bite at all surrounding big brothers

Mikey was the opposite but was a nightmare because he always made a mess and tried to eat the soap

Mikey and Donnie mispronounced their brothers’ names in different ways, Mikey would say “Waffy” and “Wee” while Donnie would say “Rappy” and “Reo”

Kid Leo did quite a bit of trolling and got away with it because he was legit just their dad’s favorite (before April and then Karai came along :/) Mikey learned all his pranks from Leo

Donnie got lots of his early sarcasm from Raph

Turtle Piles used to just be the everyday thing until Mikey was like 10, then he would just pick a room any time he had a bad dream or got lonely.

#tmnt #tmnt 2012 #2012 raph #2012 leo #2012 donnie #2012 mikey #turtle tots #headcanons

[sabo-has-my-heart]

Anon from the "missing ask" here, I'm sorry for the inconvenience aaaaaaa. My request was Yamato letting his female s/o see his Hybrid form for the first time, but worrying that she would start seeing him as some sort of monster. Instead, she reassures Yamato that she loves him just the same because it's still him, and then comes what I said in the ask that did go through. (I hope it makes sense ahdghuegdhgd)

Hi, thanks for sending in the first part again. I hope this is about what you wanted and thank you for being so patient with me; I've been a tad busy lately.

Warnings: NSFW, AFAB!Yamato, fem!bodied Yamato, use of toys, 

Word Count: 1380

     Your beloved boyfriend paced back and forth in front of you, biting his lip. He’d said he wanted to talk to you about something, something important. After he’d reassured you that he wasn’t going to break up with you, he’d pulled you to his room and sat you on his bed while he paced. 

     “Yamato, darling, please, you’re going to chew a hole through your lip.” you said, getting up and putting a thumb on his lower lip, pulling it from between his teeth.

     “I… sorry, I just… I’m…” Yamato swallowed hard, “I’m worried you’ll see me differently after I tell you, I… I just… I love you so much and I don’t want to lose you.” he said, pulling you close, his large body trembling as he held you tight. You laughed slightly and shook your head, holding your worried boyfriend. 

     “Nothing could make me see you any differently than I do now, my dearest. I’ll still love you. Even when I found out you were the son of Kaido, I never treated you any different. If I can look past you being the son of that monster, don’t you think I can see past whatever it is that you have to show me?” you asked, your words calming the young man. Pulling away, he nodded before sitting you back down on the bed. Taking a couple steps back, he transformed into his hybrid form without a word. Hands and feet growing claws, long hair flowing freely, looking almost like a mane, a mouth full of sharp fangs, elongated ears, and a fluffy tail. Still, despite what he feared was a monstrous appearance, you just smiled lovingly at him.

     “So I finally get to see your devil fruit?” you asked with a small laugh, standing up and walking back over to him, caressing his cheek. Your hand slowly moved up from his cheek to card through his hair, humming and smiling at how soft it was. Silky tresses now soft like fur, already pale skin now white as snow, “So beautiful.” you whispered, closing your eyes as you pressed your lips against his. Slowly, tentatively, you ran your tongue over his lips, the surprised man hesitantly allowing you access. You carefully slid your tongue over sharp fangs until you felt him take the lead once more, arms wrapping around you once more as he chased your tongue back into your own mouth with his own. 

     “You… you’re okay with this? Don’t… don’t I look like a monster?” he asked once he’d pulled away, once for you to laugh again.

     “No, you don’t look like a monster. You look kind of like a wolf, like a soft puppy.” you said almost teasingly, making him blush, the pink color more noticeable on his white cheeks. 

     “You… you’re so amazing.” he muttered, gently kissing you again and again, each kiss growing more passionate. 

     “Yamato… I… I want you.” you whispered against his lips when he pulled back for breath. You’d never felt closer to him, never felt more in love with him than right now. Staring into your eyes, he slowly nodded, carefully laying you on the bed. 

     “I want you too Y/n.” he said softly, transforming back into his human form as he caressed your cheek. It didn’t take long for you to remove each other’s clothes as you continuously met each other for one kiss after another. Running your hands over his body, you smiled, hybrid form or human form, he was always the most beautiful thing you’d ever laid eyes on. His own large hands roamed your body, thumbs lightly flicking over your nipples as he did his best to caress every inch of your body. Hesitantly, he took a nipple in his mouth while his hand wandered downwards, a shiver running down his spine when he reached your pussy, fingers sliding over your wet folds. You pulled him away from your breasts, pulling him in for another kiss. It took all he had not to lose himself in your lips, fingers slowly gliding past your folds, breaching your tight cunt with two fingers. Your pussy was wet, warm, and oh so tight around his digits. He whimpered as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, finally melting into your kiss. It wasn’t enough, he needed more, he needed you. Reaching blindly, he managed to find his strap on, whining when you took it from him. Another whine left his lips as he felt you slide one end against his own wet cunt, followed by a gasp when you slid the toy inside of him. It felt so good to have you slowly pushing the faux cock inside him, breathing heavily as you sheathed it inside of him, hands securing the straps as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of your pussy. 

     “P-please, Y/n. I want you so bad.” he whimpered, burying his head in the crook of your neck. A small giggle reached his ears, sounding like the most heavenly music.

     “Then pull your fingers out and take me. I want you too, my sweet wolf.” you whispered, sending another shudder down his spine. As much as he wanted to continue feeling your tight cunt around his fingers, he pulled them out before positioning the toy at your entrance. 

     “Are… are you sure?” he asked, pausing as the head of the toy rubbed against you.

     “More sure than I’ve ever been. I want you Yamato.” you answered, moaning when you felt him finally slide inside you, your walls tight around the plastic dick. Pulling him close once more, you kissed him again and again, both of you breathless as he began to thrust in and out of your pussy, both of you moaning in pleasure. 

     “Y-Y/n. S-so good.” he whined, pulling you close as his thrusts sped up. He wanted more, wanted to hear you cry out his name. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, hands wrapping around his neck, tangling in his silky hair. All you could do was moan as he held you, pounding in and out of your tight cunt. It felt so good to connect with him like this, to have him holding you while he fucked you. A whine left your lips as you felt your beloved boyfriend nip at your neck and shoulder, undoubtedly leaving hickeys and bite marks all along your skin. His marks, ones that claimed you as his and his alone. The sight had his thrusts growing faster, rougher as he moaned your name. The sound of his name leaving your lips had him holding onto you for dear life as he pounded in and out of you, losing himself in your body, in your hold as you moaned his name again and again, like a mantra. 

     “Y/n, so close, so close. Need you, need you to cum with me. Please.” he begged, burying his head in the crook of your neck, his eyes squeezed shut. 

     “Ahh, yes, g-gonna cum! So close, so close! Y-Yamato!” you cried out, pussy clenching down around the faux cock as you came. Yamato’s cries echoed yours, holding to you even tighter as he came as well, stilling inside of you as he gushed around the toy, his cum and yours leaking down to mix together as it dripped down onto the sheets. Doing your best to catch your breath, you held your white haired love close as you both came down from your high, holding each other close. 

     “I… I love you, Y/n.” he whispered, face still nuzzled into the crook of your neck as he pulled out.

     “I love you too, my sweet wolf.” you said, running your fingers through his hair, still holding him close. Setting the strap aside, Yamato curled up with you, rolling you over so you could cuddle up with him properly.

     “Thank you… for accepting me.” he said, face now nuzzled into your hair.

     “I’ll always accept you, devil fruit user, wolf, son of Kaido, none of that matters. I love you more than anything.” you said, holding him as you both started to drift off, “I’ll love you… forever… my sweet wolf.” you muttered before finally falling asleep in his arms. 

#one piece #one piece Yamato #op yamato #fem x fem!bodied

[fredrickthewolf]

Im getting rlly sick of scheduling all these posts DX NE WAYZ My creepypasta oc's ! ^^

Name: Freddy Wolfman Pronouns: He/him Gender: Trans man Age: 19  Bio: Freddy is a boy with a terrible secret. When he turned 18 the wolf inside him began to awaken. It causes him to have the urge to kill and eat humans. He can transform unwillingly into any kind of werewolf, and naturally has claws and fangs in his human form.He stopped feeling pain as soon as his transformations began. He can turn into a full wolf, but its inconvenient for him because he cannot talk like that. At any point in his wolf transformation (weather it is full or partial) he is not to be trusted around humans, as he will eat them. He can be around Jeffjack (because he's not human) and most other creepypasta's though, assuming they have forsaken their humanity. 

Trivia:  - He wears a chest binder (the black straps show on his outfit)  - His name used to be Ricky back when i first made him, but i really didnt like it so I changed it - Him and Jeffjack are in a T4T relationship  - He used to have a batman shirt that I owned at some point, but its no longer part of his design. Youre free to draw him in it though! 

Name: Jeffjack (The Killer)  Pronouns: He/it Gender: Trans man Age: 19  Bio: Jeffjack isnt a human. Its a physical manifestation of extreme pain and sadness. He was manifested by teenagers who would wish bad things upon themselves, in hopes that someone would show care or pity for them. These kids or teenagers would often project their frustrations and sorrow onto a "killer" in their minds, someone who could save them, or help them take revenge on people who hurt them. And so Jeffjack was born from that concentrated emotion.  Jeffjack is drawn to this longing for love and assurance, and will go to it, and kill the ones who are causing the child or teenager to feel this way. Sometimes to the victims delight, but usually to their terror. He's very confused that sometimes these people still love and cherish their tormenters. 

Trivia:  - Jeffjack has top-surgery, and his top scars are really cool! Freddy likes them and hopes he can get the surgery some day too.  - Jeffjacks' name is a combination of what I think are the most generic creepypasta/slasher names. Lore-wise this is because he was manifested by troubled teens who are probably fans of the afformentioned characters.  - His hair is dyed to match his boyfriend Freddy's hair - His hoodie is red to hide/mask the blood that gets on it

#creepypasta #creepypasta fanart #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta oc #Freddy Wolfman #Jeffjack the killer #blood tw

[not-a-space-alien]

Can you give a full explanation of all the differences between humans and vampires? Sowwy if this is an inconvenience :3

I'm actually using (an adapted version of) @whumpsday 's worldbuilding and vampire lore, so I'll recap some of that and my additions/alterations!

I think the origin of vampires is actually an ancient curse, so there's some sort of magic in this universe, but it's not really important to the story.

Vampires can't eat normal food and have to drink human blood. (not animal blood or some sort of substitute). I play with that requirement a little bit in my version, although I think MMSS still has the potential to be compliant with that since Valen specifies that even as he's trying to make a blood substitute, he still needs to drink real blood and can't cut himself off completely. Human food smells bad to them, but if they try to eat it I think it turns to ash in their stomach.

They have fangs (obv), and are super strong and fast. They also have very good smell and hearing.

Vampires all have red eyes.

Vampires can't be killed except for a wooden stake through the heart.

Vampires have a healing factor that means anything besides a wooden stake through the heart will heal eventually, although if their brain is destroyed they'll be rendered unconscious for a while. This returns the body to its "natural" state, which is however the vampire was born. So if someone gets a limb torn off, it'll regrow, but if they were born without a limb, they'll always heal back to that state. So disabled vampires are possible (I think it could be argued that Kane is a fantasy-disabled vampire) This also means that things like ear piercings have to be refreshed daily, cosmetic surgery isn't really a thing, and normally-irreversible aspects of HRT like voice deepening will wear of if hormones are discontinued.

Vampires are immune to poison and most diseases (and therefore, unfortunately, probably things like anesthesia, caffeine, and alcohol)

Vampires have a special hypnotic ability called persuasion. We actually don't see this happen a lot in Mill's story cuz their main vampire was born without the ability to use persuasion (and is therefore shunned by his family for it), but I would say the way persuasion works in my story is probably closer to the way it works in Shattered by @oddsconvert. For my story I made it so persuasion can be used through any method of communication--speech, writing, sign language, it just depends on how good at it the vampire is and what their natural talents are. But regardless of how it's done, a human's mind eventually starts to melt from the repeated trauma of being mind-controlled and they become basically a nonfunctional shell. It's truly a horrible ability, which is why Valen thought it was abhorrent and selfish to use it to save himself. Most vampires don't actually need to use it because their blood is provided to them by blood farms.

Direct sunlight burns them severely. It can't kill them, but it can make them wish they would die. It's canonically the worst feeling most vampires are capable of feeling and it's pretty much debilitating.

Silver also burns them but not as much. More akin to like hot metal on the skin. They also can't break silver chains or anything made of silver.

The thing about vampires not having a reflection came about when mirrors had silver backings which is I assume supposed to have destroyed the reflection or something so I assume vampires would show up in, like, photographs and reflections in mirrors that don't have silver backings.

The thing with vampires and silver I think originates because vampires are supposed to be a type of unholy creature and silver represents purity, which is the same logic behind why they can't cross running water in some lore (being the cleanest form of drinking water) but i don't think there's anything special about these vampires with running water.

They are undead, sort of, they have blood in their bodies but it's darker in color and inedible. For my setting I specified vampires come in a range of skin tones including ones that are corpse-like where you can see the blood has sort of drained from under their skin, and i imagine for darker-skinned vampires they would have colder undertones rather than warmer ones. They can blush but it's darker in tone because of their blood being almost black.

These vampires don't reproduce by biting people's necks and converting them into vampires, they have children like normal BUT it's much, much harder to conceive and give birth for vampires. They don't ovulate as often (with the menstrual cycle being dramatically slowed down) and I imagine sperm counts/sperm viability would be reduced to match that. I get the impression vampires reach adulthood at 18 the way humans do, and just live a lot longer.

Culturally, the area of the world we're focused in on has vampires living in a separate society from humans. I imagine this is due to practical reasons since the two species have such poor relations with each other, and there's a clear border between the two territories. There are much fewer vampires than humans so I imagine their territory is just kind of a small are compared to human territory. Like maybe they just kind of co-opted a city or something and said "OK this is ours now, everyone else leave" and they. did ajdklsdjasladjklsdj;la

So obviously vampire society and culture would be pretty different from human culture, but not quite by that much--most vampires/commoners just get blood from blood farms and never even see humans and might not even think about it that much, and I imagine it's the norm for them to actually feel kind of bad about it the way most people eat meat and feel bad about factory farming but don't go vegan

Upper class/noble vampires DO usually catch their own humans for their own personal blood supply. Some commoner vampires think this is ghoulish but some are jealous and think it's admirable. Humans are generally viewed as livestock animals/feed animals and snatching them up as hunting.

Generally, their culture is probably an exaggerated version of the militaristic, hyper-masculine aspects of ours, since their entire thing is built on violence to secure the food supply and cruelty can flourish unchecked since might makes right in this case.

This might be a little different than Mill's ultimately, but this is kind of the version that lives in my head that I'm writing my story in!

#these kinds of asks are actually great for worldbuilding so thank you!! #my writing #MMSS

[twst-vampire]

💪 : What is your OC’s most physically attractive attribute?  🧠 : What is your OC’s most mentally attractive attribute? (For the Leonhart twins!!)

JOSIAH

💪 : What is your OC’s most physically attractive attribute? 

════════════

his eyes! he thinks they’re very wonderful, at least. sharing the eye colors of both his father and mother makes him feel proud! his long fluffy taupe lashes, the way his eyes glaze over when he’s about to cry, the way they sparkle like jewels when he’s curious or excited! they’re expressive and you can tell exactly what he’s thinking.

the power he’d have if he made more direct eye contact with others. alas, he is just blorbo

🧠 : What is your OC’s most mentally attractive attribute?

═══════════

he’s very courteous! and unselfish! he might protest to things out of anxiety but he will see things through, because there’s too much good in this cowardly lion!

☆ carrying too many things at once? he’ll wordlessly take some things off your hands. homework floating away in the wind? he’ll chase after it! oh, did you want the last sandwich from the cafeteria, it’s all yours and he won’t let you refuse! “please, take it! 🥺”

☆ he doesn’t let his status affect how he treats other, unlike his brother who insists on it. plus, he would cry if he found out he was being an inconvenience to any of his classmates. he would cry !!!

☆ and he’s do it all saying “i hope you don’t mind! i hope you don’t mind! sorry, sorry, did i overstep?”

JEREMIAH

💪 : What is your OC’s most physically attractive attribute? 

═══════════

his smile. the way his lips curl up so sweetly….it easily shows how confident and mischievous he is !! both of the twins have a defined cupid’s bow but jeremiah smiles more, especially to use at his advantage. gosh, and if he flashes those pearly fangs, it’s over !!!

☆ his mother will tell you he’s been smiling since he was a kitten. even before he opened his eyes!

🧠 : What is your OC’s most mentally attractive attribute?

═══════════

everything he does is effortless. he has this unwavering confidence and has the skill to show for it. he goes through life believing anything he seeks out, it will come to fruition, not without practicality!

#thanks so much for the ask mwah ! #hehe reading ur tags is a treat TYTY! #some twin winnage for the besties ! #josiah leonhart #jeremiah leonhart #leonhart twins #ask game #nana oc #twst oc

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Up In Smoke.

Commissioned by the very lovely @tink2kagome.

Pairing: Yandere!Dragon-Shifter!Yamaguchi x Reader (Haikyuu!!).

Word Count: 3.0k.

TW: Non-Con, AFAB!Reader, Rough Sex, Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Fire, Slight Infantilization, and Implied Kidnapping.

Yamaguchi claimed to be the runt of his litter.

He might’ve been lying. He lied about a lot of things, back then, when you'd first met him when you were still just a wide-eyed human tending to the wounds of the strange, charming creature who’d fallen out of the air and taken refuge in the forest that surrounded your village. He might’ve been lying, but he was smaller than most dragons, his talons were shorter, and when he chose to walk on two legs, to take on a form that was not completely unlike your own, he did appear more human than his kind tended to, from what you could gather from books and folklore.

And yet, his fangs were filled to defined points, sharp enough to draw blood from just a glance off tender skin. His wings were compact, sleek, barely visible when he tucked them against his back, but you’d watched him soar, seen the way he moved through the air as if flying were no more complicated than running and he adept when it came to both. You’d felt the heat of his fire, the intensity of it, even restrained to bonfires and torches and things meant to aid you, and you knew it could burn. You’d been a runt, too – that was why he said he liked you, why he trusted you. You knew what it was like to be surrounded by people stronger than you. You knew what it was like to struggle, even if the domestic inconveniences of a human couldn’t compare to that of a dragon. You knew what it was like to be smaller, softer, weaker.

And Yamaguchi wasn’t weak. He was a lot of things, but he wasn’t weak.

It was only a shame you couldn’t recognize that before he’d found a reason to put his strength on full display.

His fire was worse than it’d been, when allowed to burn freely. It was brighter, when left to its own devices, taller, hotter, the heat unbearable even after he’d carried you so far from the heart of the flame, from your village, from your home. The earth was cool against your back, but your face was hot, and your chest was heavy, and your entire body felt like you’d been left to act like kindling, as if you’d been abandoned as mercilessly as the rest of the small population, all the humans who hadn’t been lucky enough to earn Yamaguchi’s favor. Your head was— You couldn’t feel you—

You rolled onto your side, clutching your stomach and coughing, trying to expel the smoke you must’ve breathed in, before Yamaguchi intervened. Your head pounded and your lungs ached, but you could feel a scaled hand land on your shoulder, steadying you. A moment later, you made out a familiar voice, Yamaguchi’s, whispering to you as a parent would to a child who’d just woken up from a bad dream. “Breathe,” He encouraged, gently. As gently as he could, at least, considering he was the one who’d done this to you, in the first place. “Don’t try to do anything else. It gets easier, if you just focus on breathing.”

You managed a ragged inhale, clenching your eyes shut as you swallowed down the next fit, and Yamaguchi laughed, watching on as you fought to catch your breath. He was smiling, he wouldn’t stop smiling, grinning and showing off those awful fangs every time you managed to gather the strength to glance in his direction. You tried to sit up, to regain some of your dignity, but he stopped you, taking hold of your bicep and pinning you into place despite your feeble attempts to jerk yourself out of his grip. You knew better than to fight back in any meaningful way, but you couldn’t stop yourself from glaring, locking your jaw into place, holding yourself rigid. You wanted him to know you didn’t trust him, anymore. You wanted him to know you weren’t thankful that he’d ‘saved’ you, before he could try to argue that you should be. “You monster—”

If he had any interest in letting you speak your mind, it clearly wasn’t his priority. Before you could finish, he was kissing you, slotting his mouth against yours and slamming your back into the ground, leaving you just as breathless as you’d been minutes ago. You felt him groan, a tapered tongue running over your bottom lip, but his patience thinned quickly and, in a few seconds, he’d moved on to your neck, pecking at the junction between your jaw and your neck before digging his teeth into the meat of your shoulder. You hissed, but the pain was minimal, the puncture only skin-deep. You had a feeling it had more to do with his zeal than any significant desire not to hurt you.

This time, you didn’t bother trying to hold yourself back, shoving at his chest. He didn’t react, not at first, but you felt him pull away, putting just enough distance between you and him to bury his head in the crook of your neck, nuzzling into you, muffling another bark of giddy laughter. “You’re so pretty,” He mumbled, his voice low, more absent-minded than quiet or aggressive. “And soft. How do you survive like this? It must be so hard, fending off every beast that tries to take a bite of you.” He raised his head, his eyes catching the light before he sat up and his face fell into the shadows completely. “But I can take care of that, now. I can take care of you, now.”

“You’re not making sense.” He was erratic, overzealous. As if turning your home to ash was something he expected you to celebrate. “Please, you have to—Tadashi, stop!”

At some time, the end of your dress had started to tear, catching on debris and charring against blackened embers until the skirt barely reached your knee rather than falling to your calf. Yamaguchi seemed content to help the process along, using a single, curved talon to draw a line from your hip downward, exposing the undamaged skin underneath. Without a second thought, he brushed away the abused fabric completely, letting it pool at your waist as his head dipped and he latched onto the inside of your thigh, sucking harsh bruises into tender flesh. It hurt, even when he minded his teeth, suddenly careful with you, suddenly attentive. Suddenly cautious, as if he’d ever concerned himself with your safety before.

You tensed up, but he was unperturbed. There was another kiss, if you call it that, then a nip with just enough force behind it to draw blood, and you let yourself fall back, your frustration nearly overshadowing your anger, your fear, your dull awareness that every minute you spent here was a minute you could spent looking for survivors, or gathering usable supplies, or wishing you’d let Yamaguchi bleed out in the deep, dark corner of the forest where you’d found him. You felt a hand on your hip, another on your thigh, his nails working underneath your panties and angling in just the right way to…

You kicked, thrashing, struggling as violently as you could while he tore away your panties with his teeth, letting the scrap of cloth fall to the ground as you did what you could to drive your heel into his face, or his throat, or anything that would force him to get away from you. Yamaguchi only caught your ankle, throwing your leg over his shoulder, his attention already occupied elsewhere. He wasn’t gentle, nor did he try to be, running his long, pointed tongue over your slit and grinding his nose against your clit, lapping at your cunt like a man starved. It was messy, all of it, too eager not to be clumsy, and yet, something at the pit of your stomach twisted, and your body reacted in spite of your better intentions, something high-pitched and shameful bubbling up in the back of your throat the first time he fucked his tongue into you, stretching you further than any man in your village could – with their mouth or otherwise.

You tried to convince yourself that you were only disgusted, by that.

Your forced yourself to sit up, your hands shooting to his hair in an attempt to pry him away, but the effort excited Yamaguchi more than it disturbed him. He made a sound, something caught between a groan and a growl, and you keened, arching your back, digging your teeth into your bottom lip just to keep quiet. You felt warm, warmer than you had only an arm’s length away from his fire, as if the flames that ran through his veins had spilled into yours, too, as if you’d swallowed burning coals that refused to be doused so easily. It hurt. It didn’t hurt at all, not really, not as much as it felt like it should’ve.

It felt good, and you desperately wished that it didn’t.

He seemed to know that, too. He seemed to sense it, to recognize the way your nails dug into his scalp and your thighs clenched around his head, and he seemed to enjoy it, to savor it, to purr, letting something deep in his throat reverberate as he fucked you open with his tongue. In your haze, it almost reminded you of a cat, a mountain lion, one of the large, predatory animals you that used to wander through the outskirts of your village, sometimes, doing little more than frightening the children and harassing the livestock before slipping back into wilderness. You wandered if anyone had ever seen him, aside from you, aside from tonight. You wondered if yours hadn’t been the first village he strayed close enough to burn.

But, it wasn’t a thought allowed to linger for very long. You’d lost your focus, let your concentration drift, but Yamaguchi was able to reclaim it, pulling away just far enough to painfully, terribly, finally seal his lips around your clit and suck. This time, it was impossible to swallow down the way you cried out, a cracked moan escaping despite your attempts to stifle it. Your climaxed washed over you abruptly, without any warning, your legs locking up and every part of you shaking as he nursed you through it, taking hold of your hips, easing to the ground when your body failed and he realized he couldn’t push you any farther, not now, at least, not so soon.

Not the first time.

You felt his mouth on the curve of your hip, his hands on your waist, and you could taste yourself when he kissed you, a gesture you no longer bothered to fight against. You hadn’t recognized the scraps of kindness he offered before, not until you were stripped of them, left to whimper and writhe while his fangs cut into your lips and his chest pressed into yours until you couldn’t breathe, memories of smoke and ash and cinder that you’d only just managed to block out flooding back in the blink of an eye. By the time he pulled away, he didn’t have to hide his grin - there was nothing you could’ve done to make him stop, by then. There was nothing you ever could’ve done to make him stop.

“You know why I had to do it, right?” It sounded like he was just as breathless as you were, even if you knew he couldn’t be. “Humans just don’t trust dragons. They never would’ve let the two of us be together peacefully, and you shouldn’t have to live with that kind of strain. You shouldn’t have to be under that kind of stress.” He took you by the wrist, using your hand to cup his cheek. He didn’t hesitate to lean into your palm, as if he’d done so a thousand times. As if he’d earned that kind of intimacy. “I didn’t want that for my mate.”

Something inside of you recoiled, tangibly. You might’ve attacked him again, if you’d had any energy left to try. “I’m not your mate.”

“You will be.” You could’ve sworn that the flames burning in the distance were brighter than they had been, a few minutes ago. You could’ve sworn that the smile painted across Yamaguchi’s face was wider than it could’ve possibly been, if he were anything close to human. “Soon. Now that there’s no one who can keep us apart.”

Something nudged against your dripping entrance, slick and spiked. Reflexively, you glanced downward, your exhaustion dulling your trepidation.

Immediately, you wished you hadn’t.

“That’s not going to—” Your voice caught in your throat. You could feel his cock against your cunt, nearly the length of your forearm, dripping with something translucent and thick where it emerged from the slit beneath his navel. A lubricant, you hoped, for your own sake. To make your inevitable death just a little less agonizing. “You can’t… It won’t fit, you’ll kill—”

“It will,” He assured, taking up your thighs when you tried to clench your legs shut. “You’re going to be my mate, and I’m going to take care of you. You’ll be alright.”

But, you weren’t. Not really. You shouldn’t have been, at least.

If you were alright, it wouldn’t have felt that good.

It was warm. More than anything, it was warm, radiating the kind of mind-numbing, craze-inducing heat that made you claw at your stomach and throw your head back while he was still easing in the slanted, spongey tip. There was a strange shape to it, curved vaguely upward and broadened at the base, the unscaled flesh hardened and grooved in such a way that left you desperate to hold onto anything by the time his restraint faltered and his hips snapped forward, threatening to spear your cervix in a single, jolting thrust. If you focused, you might’ve been able to feel it in your throat. You didn’t want to focus. You didn’t want to feel anything at all.

But, you did. You could feel it, all of it, every inch, every twitch, and every defined, pulsing vein. You didn’t have a choice.

He’d never thought to give you one.

You tried to open your mouth, to say something that might make him pull out, but a sob replaced anything intelligent you might’ve said, then a moan so stretched so long and cracked so violently, it bordered on obscene. You didn’t want to, but Yamaguchi seemed to like it. His hands had been on the ground on either side of you, talons planted in the soil and leaf litter in an effort not to hurt you any more than he already was, but he didn’t seem reluctant to straighten his back, to wrap his claws around your thighs, to press your knees into your chest and force you into a position that let him reach a spot deeper inside you, more sensitive, more prone to making you mewl whenever his cock brushed against it. You felt hot. You felt tight, in a way that was all rigid tension and stilted comfort. You felt full.

You wanted it to stop. More than anything, you just wanted it to stop.

You almost thought he would, when you felt his ruthless pace slow, his breath hitching as his expression somehow stiffened and softened at the same time. But, it was little more than a passing hope, temporary and felting, and you were knocked out of it as soon as he slammed into you again, rutting into your cunt like his heart would stop beating the second he stopped. You lost all sense of rationality instantly, the stretch and the pain and the bliss rushing straight to your head, and in a blind panic, you reached towards him, towards anything, desperate for some trace of stability. He abided, leaning down just far enough to let you wrap your arms around your neck, your face soon hidden in his cold, heaving chest.

It wasn’t comforting, you doubted anything about him could be comforting right now, but you were able to try your hand at blocking out the rest of the world, at numbing your awareness of the bruises forming on your back, the soreness in your limbs, the sound of your own voice making such awful, guttural noises. You tried to ignore it, tried to ignore him, but you couldn't, not for very long, not once you heard his heartbeat, quick but not frantic, fierce but not scared. Once your clit caught on his pelvis, sparking something inside of you, making it just a little harder to want to push him away.

Until he bit into you, and it was all you could do to think about anything but his fangs.

Dug into your jugular. Latched onto you, like a parasite. Forced deep enough to draw blood that trickled down your neck and pulled on your chest, your midriff, anywhere it could, everywhere it could. You shut your eyes, but there was nothing you could do to stave it off, to stop your body from tightening up, to stop your pussy from clenching around him as the world went white. Yamaguchi groaned against your skin, going still above you, and something hot flooded into you, filling your cunt until it leaked out around his cock, staining the inside of your thighs. You felt sticky. You felt dirty.

You felt tired, and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to feel anything else again.

Yamaguchi eased out of you slowly, savoring the way you twitched and flinched back at the slight overstimulation. You kept your eyes closed throughout the agonizing process, curling your nails into your palms, letting the discomfort wash over you and tug you back into reality. You expected Yamaguchi to move, to stand, to take flight and leave you to suffer, but when you gathered up the nerve to look, he was only kneeling over you, staring on as you attempted to recover. For the first time since he’d landed, you noticed his wings, fully extended and poised at his sides. You noticed his smile, dazed and careless, too delirious to mean anything good.

“My perfect, delicate mate,” He muttered, cupping your cheek.

“I think it’s finally time to take you home.”

#yandere #yandere love #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshots #yandere smut #yandere lemon #yandere commission #commission #writing commission #haikyu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu!! x reader #yandere yamaguchi #yandere yamaguchi tadashi #yamaguchi x reader #yamaguchi x you #yandere fantasy #yandere fanfiction #yanderecore #yancore #hq #hq imagines #yandere hq #hq!! #hq!! imagines

[cowboycakes]

Loyalty

Chapter One: Memories

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x fem!Reader

Synopsis: You are a Marleyan warrior who holds the Jaw Titan, tasked with infiltrating Paradis and destroying it. But what happens when love causes you to betray your mission?

Themes: NSFW, 18+, action, betrayal, multi-chapter series.

Warnings: Female bodied reader, explicit sex (penetration/riding, gentle and fluffy, Levi is a virgin), violence/severe injury and blood/battle scenes, threats, mentions of death. Profanity. Spoilers seasons 1-4.

Word count: 2.7k (recently edited to make it flow a little better!)

Note: This story contains spoilers for all seasons of aot (not the manga). It is canon divergent (reader has the jaw titan rather than Porco and reader is on the mission with Reiner and Bertholdt.) Some scenes differ/are more rushed than the scenes they line up with in the actual show. This first chapter is set in season 3.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

The most important lesson you'd learned on this journey was that you couldn’t help who you fell in love with. Love would strike you like a viper by surprise, sinking its fangs deep inside of you and injecting you with lethal poison. Your poor soul was so torn.

The viper in question manifested itself as someone quite inconvenient. A raven haired man - the strongest, most cunning, most selfless man you’d ever observed. And all the while, he was still an island devil.

You were supposed to strike back at the viper, sinking your much larger set of jaws into his heart. Your mission - and specifically your mission - was to end him and his kind. The remaining Ackermans were dangerous. They were a threat to your and your comrades’ titan powers. The goal was to get close to him, to find his weaknesses and strengths. To know his ins and outs like the back of your hand. And then you’d have the advantage. Then you would kill him.

That plan had obviously backfired.

You stood on top of the wall now, alongside Reiner and Bertholdt after they’d just exposed the entire mission to Eren and the others. You could feel the static in the air from a few yards away. They were about to transform.

That wasn’t the problem, though. The problem was that the duo was looking right at you, waiting for you to slash your hand and join in. To rush to their side and eat Eren while you had the chance. Then you could all go home and be celebrated as heroes.

Instead, you were staring back at them - a big, sweaty, teary-eyed, nervous mess.

It was time to betray your homeland.

“I’m sorry Reiner, Bertholdt…” you sob, pulling your hand to your mouth, “but my loyalties lie elsewhere, now.” You rip your teeth through your hand.

Three bolts of lightning shake the wall simultaneously. You emerge in your strongest form - the jaw titan. Your titan had a hardened face like a skeleton with an elongated jaw that stuck out like a wolf. Sharp ridges lined your mouth like fangs, and bright red orbs glowed through your eye sockets. A mane with a color that mimicked your hair grew down from your neck.

You were terrifying. Which is why you needed to get the hell away from these scouts before they decided you needed to die.

You had no interest in defeating Reiner and Bertholdt, that was Eren’s problem now. You were more concerned about the captain on the other side of the wall. He could certainly handle himself, but Zeke had quite the throwing arm. Things could go south very quickly.

You launch yourself down the wall, using your giant talons to slow your fall. You scan the field as you descend, trying to find any sign of Levi.

A voice booms your name to the left of you as you reach the ground.

It’s Pieck in her titan form.

Pieck was like a sister to you. It’s been so long since you’d seen her. You feel a tinge of regret now. Pieck was never going to see you the same again.

You narrow your red eyes at her and charge with full force. Your jaws snap at her heels as she whips around and runs full speed across the field. You finally see who she was running to - Levi and Zeke. Zeke was cut out of his titan form and being held by the hair in Levi's hand.

You pick up your pace, grazing Pieck's legs with your sharp teeth. She stumbles when the two of you go over an indent in the ground, only a few yards from your destination. Her mishap allows you to sink your teeth into her legs. She turns around to bite your neck in response, crushing your weakest spot. You jolt your head, flinging her away from you.

She gets up fast after hitting the ground, continuing at full speed toward Zeke and Levi. You are quick to go after her again, but slow down once you see Levi drop Zeke and bolt out of Pieck's way.

Did he really just give up Zeke that easily?

Suddenly, you feel someone cutting through your titan's nape.

Your vision goes dark.

Out of the darkness, you’re thrown into an old memory. Ah yes, you remember now. All of it is so vivid, right in front of you again.

You’d sneak away to the Captain's office at night frequently. You’d tell yourself these visits were for the mission, to aid you in knowing your victim a little better. His weaknesses could certainly reveal themselves in the comfort of his study. But they certainly weren't for your mission anymore. You’d started to simply crave his company.

You’re walking down the dim halls when you hear two sets of footsteps approaching, quite rapidly. You’re met with two giant bodies slamming into you from behind, grabbing your arms to keep you from running.

“You know, Y/N, I’m getting worried about these visits of yours,” Reiner says, tightening his grip on you. You yelp. “There’s only so much you could be talking about in there with him. There’s only so much shit you could be making up about yourself. He’s going to catch on.”

“He isn’t!” you struggle, “And I’m more clever than these sluggish devil bastards! I’m getting all the information I need!”

“Guys, keep it down!” Bertholdt whispers, frantically looking around to make sure no one was eavesdropping.

Reiner let’s go of you as you topple to the ground in front of him, your hands and knees landing on the cold brick floors below.

“Kill him faster,” Reiner whispers. The two of them make their ways back to their rooms in silence.

You finally stand up when you can’t hear their footsteps anymore, dusting your knees off and collecting your nerves.

You were the oldest titan shifter on the mission from Marley, quite a bit older than Reiner and Bertholdt. You were supposed to be bossing these little shits, not the other way around. But it seemed they were always calling the shots. You deserved to carry out your particular mission however you pleased.

Levi's door is cracked open a bit further down the hall, allowing some faint light to spill into the hall. And inside, there he was as usual, sitting at his desk with a tea and reading some boring literature that you could never understand.

“Long day?” he questions without looking up from his book.

“Yeah,” you sigh, plopping your body down onto a leather sofa near his desk. You lean back into it, reaching your arms up to stretch out. “Thanks for always letting me join you in here. It helps me de-stress.”

You had made a routine of coming in here after a fateful night in the dining hall, after you and Levi realized you could click really well in conversation. You two had shared your entire life stories with each other by now - yours obviously contorted to fit a reality that didn't consist of you being raised in Liberio. You'd grown very close to him, way closer than you had with anyone else in the Scouts. Even though he'd never met the real you, you could relate to him - his struggles and his past especially. His cynical personality had a strange and almost addicting way of brightening your day, and you'd always make sure to tease him for it. Not to mention how handsome he was. He'd catch you stealing glances at him sometimes, but you had a feeling he secretly liked the attention.

If you didn't know better, you'd think you were falling for him.

Your favorite stories of Levi's were of the Underground. It was such a peculiar concept to you, even though it faintly reminded you of life in Liberio. You realized that the people living in the Underground were lucky, in a way. They were oblivious to the world above, secluded from wars and titans. If only every other circumstance of theirs wasn't so unfortunate.

You smile at him as he finally looks up from his book.

“Your tea’s over there,” he says as his eyes dart to the coffee table.

You quickly grab the tea and move it to your mouth.

It was way too hot.

You feel titan steam shoot up from your lips. It had really burned you that badly. You slap a hand over your mouth before the steam could escape, the sound echoing off Levi’s office walls.

“What’s the matter? Tea’s gone cold?” Levi questions, his voice dark. His eyes had been on you the whole time.

“Hmmph?” you say through your hand.

Levi gets up and advances across the room, stopping just in front of you. You’re still frozen on the couch.

“I said, what’s the matter?” His hand meets the one still clamped over your steaming lips.

“Is there something you need to hide under there?” Levi’s finger slips under one of yours, forcing it away from your face. Then another.

Oh shit.

This was a setup. He was actually on to you.

Shit! Regenerate! Faster!

Another finger is forced away from your face. You close your eyes tight, focusing all of your energy to your lips.

This may be it. Right here. Reiner and Bertholdt were going to kill you.

The final two fingers are pried away at once. You open your eyes to look up at him innocently, no steam in sight.

“Uh…” you stutter.

He sighs.

“Sorry. Just trying to keep tabs on who my enemies might be.”

“So you… burned my mouth? Dickhead,” you laugh. You needed to come off as clueless as you could.

Levi’s eyes delicately scan your dewey face. Your lips were still throbbing and swollen. You always wondered if that’s what had compelled him.

He leans down, kissing you softly. Your eyes were wide and your face was motionless for a moment. Then you returned it, cupping a hand sweetly around his jaw.

In a flash, you’re transported to another memory.

You're sitting down on a wooden bench on the outskirts of the combat training arena. You remember being so tired on this day.

You lean your head back and close your eyes, letting the sun soak into your sweat-covered skin. Eventually, a shadow blocks the light shining on you.

You open your eyes to see Levi.

“Want to spar?” he taunted.

“Hell no,” you pant, still limp on the bench.

“You sure? Might be fun to have your ass kicked three times in one day.”

You chuckle at him.

Levi sits down next to you, leaning forward to support his elbows on his knees. The two of you sit there quietly, your ears filled with the sound of summer insects and a cool breeze through the trees.

Your eyes eventually wander to Levi again. He looks upset all of the sudden.

“I’m sorry for kissing you,” he states.

You’re shocked he’s actually bringing it up. After the kiss broke, he just went to sit down at his desk. He acted like none of it had ever happened.

“No, don’t be. I kind of liked it,” you confess, leaning forward to be at his level.

“This can’t continue.”

You feel a tight sensation in your chest. You’re hurt.

“Tell me about it,” you sigh, putting your head in your hands and thinking back to your real duties for once. You were only making things more complicated for yourself.

Of course, it did continue. The two of you avoided each other for a couple of lonely weeks until you nearly ended up in a titan’s mouth on a mission. It had you gripped tightly in its hand, completely helpless to it in your human form. You were about to transform when Levi swooped in and sliced its nape.

He helped you to your feet once the titan hit the ground and scolded you for your carelessness. You just stared back at him once he was quiet again. And he stared back at you. For a bit too long.

That night, you ended up in his office again and performed a teary-eyed confession about your feelings for him. It was in those moments that you discovered you didn’t care about the mission anymore.

You’re thrown into another memory.

This one was so intimate. So special. You never wanted to forget it.

“I’ve never,” Levi pants underneath you, “done something like this before.”

You’re straddling his thighs, tracing circles into his abs with your fingers.

“That’s ok, I’ll guide you,” you whisper.

Candlelight glows off of both of your naked bodies in Levi’s dimly lit bedroom. A surprise make out session led to Levi being curious, and the both of you taking all your clothes off in a rush and throwing each other onto the bed in desperation.

You move your hand from his stomach to his erection. Levi lets in a nervous breath once you make contact.

“Hey, you’re gonna do great,” you say sweetly, “you still wanna do this, right?”

“Yes, I do. Just nervous I’m not gonna… do it right.”

It was ironic to see humanity’s strongest so nervous about what was between your legs.

You shush him quietly as you move your lips down to his tip, slowly taking his length into your mouth. You drag your lips up and down as he lets out tiny grunts and bucks his hips up slightly to meet you.

Once he’s warmed up to your touch, you scoot up over his legs until you’re almost straddling his length.

You look up at him to see his eyes wandering over your bare body, lingering in your more intimate spots.

“You’re really beautiful. I’m not sure if I’ve ever told you that,” Levi murmurs as he moves a hand up to glide over the side of your waist.

“You too,” you smile at him. “Are you ready?”

He nods.

You lift yourself up gently before easing him into you. The perfect sensation of him pressuring your walls made your breath hitch. You feel him let out a huff of air once he's fully inside.

You start to rock your hips up and down rhythmically as you lean forward to place your hands on his collarbones. He gently thrusts back to meet your hips. His mouth was parted, his face was flushed and sweaty. He grips the sheets in his hands as you continue riding him.

Everything felt so warm and wet. So gentle and passionate.

Both of you let out little whines as you speed up.

"How can I," he moans, "make you... finish."

You grab his hand from the sheets and move his finger to your clit, pleasuring yourself with it for a moment.

"Just like that," you whisper. "You're doing so good."

The two of you continue rutting against each other on the bed - two wet, tingly, whiney, pleasure-filled messes.

All of it felt so right. It was honest.

The memory gradually crumbles in front of you, plunging you back into the darkness.

It wasn’t the intimacy, the long talks, or the sex. It was none of that.

It was the fact that he was a brave and honest thing in your world full of lies. It made you fall for him.

Levi made you rethink your entire role in this war. What right did you have to come and destroy people’s lives? These people were innocent for all you knew. They were the victims. But they had spirit, guts, and passion that no one on Marley did. You related to them. You loved them.

So whose side did you really belong on?

And why were you being shown these memories?

And what was this bloodcurdling noise suddenly ringing in your ears?

It sounded like… your screams.

You finally enter reality again with a gasp, coughing up leftover fluid in your lungs from your titan form. You look down frantically at your body to see all of your limbs severed. Someone had cut you out of your titan form.

The culprit was crouched right in front of you.

Levi.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

Hi guys! I've been sitting on this fic for awhile, unsure if I wanted to post it or not - I sort of wasn't confident abt it. But I hope some of you like it! I will be coming out with another chapter soon. Also, if you left a request, I promise it will be up soon! Lots of love - Shep

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#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman smut #levi smut #aot x reader #aot smut #snk smut #levi imagine #levi ackerman fluff #levi fluff #levi aot #levi x y/n #snk levi #levi ackerman #aot fanfiction #levi fanfiction #attack on titan

[whiteheartlight]

hey pst hey yeah you here is a secret snippet of the next section of the Toa Mata Hagah au because I have been very busy with a new job and moving to a new state so I am not ready to post a full story on ao3 but u can have an intro if you want just cause it's been a while and we're tumblr pals okay byeee

.

“I wanted one so bad. I don't think he even thought of me. Can't I have yours? Come on, Krika, can't I have that one?”

The Makuta is scanning him with eyes like he wants to devour him. Kopaka meets his gaze coldly. His hands are full of ice. Just in case. He hates the way he looks at him. He hates him, period.

“It's pretty! I like Ice Toa. I guess a dark one maybe would match me better. But come on. You're not using it, are you? I bet you're not. I bet you hardly get into fights at all on Zakaz.”

Actually, they've squashed two civil wars in the past three months alone. Then again, that mostly just involves showing up in the middle of a battle and sending both sides scattering before they can all kill each other.

“Krika, you're not even listening!”

“No, I'm not,” Kopaka's Makuta responds finally, sipping from his drink on the other side of the table. “I never listen to you when you're whining.”

The yellow and black Makuta sitting across from Kopaka deflates, letting himself sink down over the table.

“Miserix was always giving me presents,” he says. “Miserix said I was one of his favorites. I can't even get Teridax to look at me twice! I should have gotten one. I would have really liked one. Miserix would have given me one.”

“Your brother's death has been hugely inconvenient for you, then,” Krika returns scathingly.

“It really has been,” Bitil mopes. “It's terrible.”

“Can I be excused?” Kopaka interrupts them both irritably.

“Oh, it talks,” gasps Bitil.

“What did you think it did?”

“I thought Ice Toa didn't ever talk.”

“I think I'm starting to see why Teridax doesn't notice you,” snaps Kopaka. “Your head's so full of rocks it's astonishing he even allows you to run this backwater junkyard.”

Bitil gapes openly at him, but he's smiling a fang-toothed smile as he does, rocking back from the table in delight. “It sassed me! Krika, it talks back. That's so funny. Oh, I want one so bad.”

Kopaka gets up, shoving his over-sized chair out from behind him and stalking away from the table. Bitil's cackling laughter follows him as he goes.

“If the rest of your siblings are all like this, I'm going to be cutting this trip very short,” he shouts back at Krika.

“You wanted to come,” his Makuta retorts. “So keep your damn mouth shut.”

But they both know that he never has kept his damn mouth shut when he had something to say, and he probably never will.

“You're a little shit, you know that?” Krika sighs, looking back at his brother. “You still act like you were just pulled out of the pool yesterday.”

Bitil sighs back at him, putting his chin in his hand. “I'm bored, Krika,” he says. “Miserix always asked me to do stuff... Miserix trusted me. And I trusted him. He always brought me good things to eat so I got bigger than the others. Teridax just leaves me here. I feel like I'm rotting. I really do wish I could have a Toa or something to play with. How am I ever going to make any progress in the Brotherhood now?”

“Do your duty quietly and well,” Krika replies. “If you see an opportunity to prove your loyalty to Teridax, take it. That's all you can do. Complaining and begging, however, will not get you anywhere.”

“You'll put in a good word for me with him if he needs something done, won't you, Krika? He likes you. And you know I'm a good fighter.”

“A brutal one,” replies Krika, glancing him over. “But yes, a good fighter. Although I wonder where that bruise down the side of your face is from.”

“Oh, yeah.” Bitil pokes forlornly at his miscolored face, grey in places it's usually green. “It's the mask. I just wake up with bruises, cuts, everything. I'm barely tolerating it anymore, honestly. The other day I dropped a specimen and killed it because suddenly my whole arm was broken.”

“You use it too often.”

“Maybe. But like you said, I'm a good warrior. Don't have much else going for me.”

“Your cats are very good, Bitil.”

“Awww. Thank you. Yeah, they're getting better. Working on smaller ones, but equally deadly. You think Teridax would like that?”

Krika takes another drink from his cup. “Don't create for Teridax. Work for Teridax – create for Matoran.”

“Matoran.” Bitil's back to his nasally whine, picking at the table with his claws. “I'm sick of Matoran. I don't even see any anymore. I ship all my Rahi out. You think Matoran are sending me thank you notes back because I took care of their problem with the thigh-sized rats or sent something to eat all the birds with diseases? Not a chance. It would be nice to have a Toa, really. Then the Matoran would want to come see us. And he could take care of some of my battles for me so I don't have to wake up in random pain every week. It's not fair. Antroz got two. That's not fair.”

“Bitil,” warns Krika. “Complaining.”

“I wish Miserix was here,” he sulks. “I hate Teridax.”

Bitil sees Krika's gaze narrow a half-second before he realizes he probably shouldn't have said that.

A flare of repulsion throws him mask over heels from his chair and crashing into the wall hard enough to crack stone. The ceiling shakes above them. As soon as he's blinked his eyes open again, Krika is there, grabbing him by his chest piece and hauling him into the air, red eyes burning. Bitil pants, grabbing his hand, and lets out a flimsy growl.

“Don't,” snaps Krika, cuffing him over the mask. “Don't you ever snarl at me for trying to keep your stupid head on your shoulders. You never say things like that. Do you understand me, Bitil? You never, ever say things like that about Teridax. About any of your leaders. Not to Makuta you trust, not to Makuta you hear saying similar things, not to beings who will never even have the chance to whisper in Teridax's audio receptor. You don't say things like that.”

Okay, so he definitely shouldn't have said that. Krika watches Bitil's expression flashes between angry and guilty for a few seconds before he finally settles back into his usual sulking. Krika sets him back on his feet, putting his hands on his hips. “You've always been too self-absorbed, Bitil. If you had any wisdom, you'd have realized that words like those could destroy you.”

“So we're not even pretending anymore,” says Bitil sullenly.

“Pretending what?”

“That Teridax isn't killing those of us who talk back to him.”

“Bitil. Add that to the list of shit you don't say.”

Bitil looks up at him, his mouth slightly twisted. He shrugs his shoulders and crosses his arms over his chest, shrinking in on himself a little. “She says that stuff.”

Krika frowns at Bitil. “What? Who does?”

Bitil rubs at the bruise on his face again, shifting in place.

“Bitil,” warns Krika.

“You know who, okay? She came to visit me, you know. Zarin.”

“No. I didn't know.”

“You didn't? I thought you and her and Antroz were always talking shit about the rest of us. Making all the real decisions since Miserix was never interested in the political side of anything. I used to think if anyone was ever to take over from Miserix, it would be one of the three of you. Well, not you, Krika. Maybe her or Antroz, though. I guess Teridax was just biding his time, letting you four be in charge until he was ready.”

Krika doesn't reply. Bitil moves back towards his chair, picking it up off the ground.

“She isn't the same since the others disappeared, Krika. She won't forgive that. If she truly believes Teridax did it – hypothetically – ”

“What did she say, Bitil?”

Krika wishes that the very asking of the question didn't make his ichor seem cold.

Bitil won't turn to him.

“Bitil.”

“Just one thing,” says Bitil gruffly. “I don't care that much, I just – I don't know. If Teridax comes asking, you can back me up, say that I didn't encourage it. She just said that if I was upset about Mir dying, I shouldn't do anything reckless. Instead, she said I could come talk to her about it, and we would work on it together. She said she understood if I was upset about Mir. That's all.”

Krika runs his hands over his mask, his spines raised at the back of his neck. For the sake of the Spirit, isn't she smarter than this? To speak words like this, no matter how ambiguous, to Bitil of all Makuta? She could have come to him. She always used to. Could she really have been so reckless?

“Have you told anyone else about this?” he asks shortly, dropping his hand from his mask.

“No,” grumbles Bitil. “Not that stupid.”

“Good. Keep it that way. Don't even tell anyone she visited. She was just talking about helping you with your grief. That's all. There was nothing rebellious in that, brother.”

“Right,” mutters Bitil. “That's why we can't talk about it. But don't worry. I'm not going to go see her or anything, either. I just want to forget that it happened. I would forget Mir too if I could. I don't ever want to think about him again.”

Krika stares at the back of his head as Bitil sits back in his chair. Rumor has it he was the one who found Mir's ichor still fresh on the floor of his keep, his body taken up to the Star before any evidence could be found. Bitil, Gorast, and Mir visited each other frequently, so it's perfectly believable, if you ask him. They were always tight as Toa. Now he never wants to think of him again?

“Good,” Krika says finally. “I'll speak with her. Just to double-check. But putting it out of your mind is for the best. Like I said, just do your duty.”

“And prove my loyalty to Teridax if I get a chance.”

“Right. Look, just be good. I need to go. I want to be in Xia by evening.”

“Why?”

“Don't worry about it, Bitil. Just something Antroz called me for.”

Bitil shakes his head at him, smiling. “Have fun talking shit and making decisions. Say hi to Antroz and Zarin. You three... the unholy trinity of the Brotherhood.”

Krika gives him a second cuff on the mask, just for good measure, and gathers up his things. Bitil walks him to the door of his keep, stepping out into the sunlight with him. After a minute of squinting against the bright sun, they can make out the tallest ship in the bay of Bitil's island, and a white Toa sitting on the prow, looking out at the morning light.

“Really wanted one of those Toa,” sighs Bitil yet again. “You sure I can't keep it?”

“Bye, Bitil.”

“Hey, hey! Where's my bite?”

Krika scoffs, considering telling him no. Bitil's about three times the size of a Toa these days, and only a couple feet smaller than Krika himself. He doesn't need to be sneaking energy from his larger siblings. But he supposes it's symbolic. Krika himself used to take a bite from Miserix. It was a sign of deference. A sign of respect for the hierarchy of their Brotherhood. Maybe a tiny sign of some form of affection too. Miserix always offered him his wrist.

Krika never quite has it in him to tell the others no.

“You take more than a nip and I'm going to hit you,” he warns, reaching out his wrist.

Bitil grins devilishly and sinks his fangs into Krika's wrist. Right on schedule, he takes a drain of energy so intense it makes Krika's fingers go slightly numb.

Krika sighs and activates his mask again. Bitil goes flying back into his fortress. Even from the rubble of the nearest wall, Krika hears him laughing loudly. He always takes too much and he's never sorry.

“Greedy jay-cat.”

“Bye, brother!”

Krika leaves the fortress behind, walking down towards the water. Sailors from all over the world stare at him as he goes or duck quickly back into boats or huts. He steadily ignores all of them, heading up the walkway of his ship.

“Finally.” Kopaka is waiting for him, but he looks like he's about to take off all on his own, a waft of impatient chill following him as he approaches. “Can we go now, or do we have more breakfasts to attend?”

Krika ignores him, giving the signal for the Skakdi sailors he employs for short trips to get going. He stands observing the work, watching Kopaka run among the sailors and help release the sails, half as strong but twice as lithe. He knows Kopaka is excited to go to Xia, to see his siblings – knows that the Ice Toa has been circling back to questions about Xia, Vortixx, and Antroz on repeat ever since Krika told him they were taking a trip – but as he stands there watching his Toa Hagah bask in the gold light and the spray off the silver protodermis sea, he thinks that it's probably easier not to have brothers and sisters at all. You don't have to worry about any of the stupid trouble they get themselves into.

And you never have to grieve their loss, either.

#hagah kopaka #may be subject to small changes as i go

[lemontwst]

Ok we know there's going to be lots of jealousy/fighting for deerlet's attention in Nessun Dorma, but how would the boys react to some random guy hitting on their beloved right in front of them? I'm really hyped for chapter one so I hope this is okay to ask!!

it is okay to ask, babe!!!! i hope you don’t mind i defaulted to heartslabyul and savanaclaw to avoid a mile-long post. as per usual, let me know if you would like to see the other characters’ reactions!

Riddle - Absolutely not. How dare this pathetic wretch think they can touch the Queen of Hearts' beloved? Riddle stands at Deerlet's side with an annoyed expression on his face the entire time, making snarky, thinly-veiled, condescending comments that make the other person feel this small. If they reach out to touch you, Riddle will slap their hand away and glare them out of the room.

Ace - He's really fucking jealous, but he doesn't show it, pretending instead to be the flirt's best friend. He wraps an arm over his shoulders, his words loud and dramatic and wrong, like a song with a single distorted note in its melody. When he's dragged the guy out of Deerlet's earshot, his expression falls to one of cruel boredom. You don't really know why, but that person never talks to you again.

Deuce - He usually tries to keep his jealousy in check, because he doesn't want to inconvenience you. So when that person makes you laugh and... touches your arm… Deuce holds it in. His fists tighten to the point that it's painful, but he doesn't say anything. Now, if you seem to be uncomfortable with the flirtation, Deuce will put himself between you and the other guy at the speed of fucking light. If he doesn’t back off, he’s going to get punched in the face.

Cater - He knows from the get-go that people are going to hit on you. You're fucking gorgeous, why wouldn't they? Cater will happily waltz up to you and pull you close to him, shamelessly running his hands down your arms, back, waist… anything he can touch without being inappropriate, he will touch. It's almost like a challenge as he looks at the other guy in the eyes. If the idiot still tries to flirt with you when Cater is right there, your boyfriend will shove his tongue in your mouth right then and there, forcing the guy to leave with his tail between his legs while he gives you some mind-blowing pda.

Trey - He usually has the patience of a saint in this kind of situations. He won't be outright hostile at first, but he'll stand right beside you, gently holding your hand as he attempts to steer the conversation away from any flirting comments. If the guy doesn't give up, Trey will straight up call him out on his bullshit, the friendly facade dropping so fast it almost gives you whiplash. He'll scold the moron for forcing you into an uncomfortable situation, loud enough so everyone around you can hear, embarrassing him so much he will never come close to either one of you ever again.

Leona - HAHAHAHA. Who the hell is this idiot? Does he have a death wish? Is he so eager to meet his maker that he'd purposefully flirt with you in front of your man? Leona gives him three seconds to fuck off before he's tearing him apart. Flirting with Deerlet in front of him is worse than doing it in front of Malleus. You will die. Also expect him to keep you glued to his side for the rest of the day. Leona has to rub his scent on you properly since apparently someone still can’t take a fucking hint, so you're not going anywhere.

Jack - Like Deuce, he tries so hard not to throw hands right away. His territory is being invaded, but you would be upset if he started a fight, so he just… stands behind you and glares. If the sight of a huge wolf boy with his fangs bared and pure hatred in his yellow eyes doesn’t scare the guy off, then he’s clearly too dumb to live. The second he tries to touch you, Jack is on him, snarling. You’ll have to call him back to you, or else he’s going to do some serious damage to the other student.

Ruggie - This happens often actually. He’s skinny and not very tall or threatening, so other guys think they can just walk up to Deerlet and start hitting on them while he’s right there. Fucking morons. Ruggie will mock the guy so hard he will never recover from the shame, and if he tries to start a fight? The idiot’s going to get flung down a flight of stairs. Over and over and over again. Like Leona, Ruggie will want to scent you afterwards, walking so close to you you almost trip on his feet, but the cute smirk he gives you makes it impossible to be mad at him.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #riddle rosehearts #ace trappola #deuce spade #cater diamond #trey clover #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #jack howl #headcanons #gn!reader

[shrinkthisviolet]

Does the Cobra Kai writers room ever feel like the writers' biases are sneaking into the script?

It does feel like they take shortcuts a lot of the time and have a tendency to vilify certain characters to make the viewers like the character they want to redeem or make the audience like, regardless of whether that character has earned it. I definitely see this with the girls' writing, where an accurate way to describe it in season 4 is that they want the viewer to believe that Tory has changed without Tory actually showing any signs of improvement.

For instance, although she isn't picking fights anymore, Tory still intentionally goes to prom to antagonize Sam, and she still spends time antagonizing Sam's friends and allies (like approaching Hawk, Bert, and Nate at the drive-in, or participating with the group that assaults Hawk and shaves his head).

And Tory often comes off as insincere in showing a desire to improve. In the scene in 4x06 where she approaches Sam upon returning to school and says "I guess I should thank you", Tory comes off like she's only pretending to make amends with Sam to improve her social status (given this moment comes after seeing other students gawking at her). And when she and Amanda speak at the tournament and Amanda makes her promise not to fight dirty against Sam, Tory comes off like she'd rather not owe a debt to Amanda. (And her disagreeing with Silver when he orders her to fight dirty suggests she cares less about the fact that cheating is wrong and more about the fact he's ordering her to cheat; which is noticeable when you compare it to Bobby's and Johnny's reactions to Kreese ordering them to fight dirty against Daniel)

Not to mention she's still very self-centered. She still shows no empathy or concern for anyone but herself, not thinking at all about how her actions have affected others (which by the way isn't just Sam, but also includes Miguel and all the students who got suspended for the school fight). And she still shows signs of entitlement from the way she continues to rage-quit jobs and insult/assault customers while on the clock.

A better arc for Tory in season 4 would be if it was about her having to learn that her rough circumstances do not give her the right to assault other people.

Well Tory didn’t approach them at the drive-in first, Robby did. She and the other Cobras came to back him up when the other Miyagi-Fangs came to back up Bert and Nate.

I agree that in general for Tory, they drop the ball on her arc a lot. I don’t know if she was being genuine with Sam in 4x6, and I can see it going either way...but the fact is that she did hurt Sam severely, but the show acts like those were all minor inconveniences.

#cobra kai #tory nichols

[writefandoms]

i dont want to bother but can i request headcanon of alucard from hellsing when his s/o is short (like 1.55 cm) his s/o work as a photographer for hellsing, and his s/o is always making sure if alucard is ok like asking if he is hungry or if is ok after a mision? idk im just a smal photographer bean who wants take care of alucard ~

You said 1.55cm and I uhhhh didn’t know how to make that physically work lmaooo. But I really like how this turned out, so I hope you do too!😌

Alucard x GN!Reader

This man is TALL. Like it would be a miracle if you weren’t shorter than him.

Unfortunately, you were a elf compared to this vampire. Barely reaching his chest, having you snap your neck backwards to meet his eyes.

Walter thought it would be a good idea if Sir Integra hired a professional photographer, in order to capture the Hellsing manor and faculty. It’s important for future sponsors to see the best sides of the Hellsing organization and could bring in more money.

So here you are, there were areas in the manor that were off limits: the several armouries, basement, and (unless you have permission) Sir Integra’s office. But other than that you were free to snap pictures all over the manor.

The manor was beautiful, containing a mix of old and new architecture. Beautiful burgundy carpeting matching the curtains that hung over the large windows. And not only was your love for photography etting quenched, but your pockets were being filled.

You had no idea what these people did for a living, but with how much you were getting paid you weren’t going to complain.

Then you stumbled upon the reason you were forbidden from entering the basement. He loomed over you, the large hallway suddenly feeling cramped. Tall, dark, and sinister. That’s what you’d describe Alucard as.

The permanent grin on his face wasn't welcoming at all. The array of long white fangs, didn’t help either. Instead it made you nearly piss yourself and run. And you probably should of.

But you didn’t. Instead you kept going back because of him.

Sir Integra was furious at him, yelling for him to return to his chambers. She called you to her office, apologizing for the inconvenience. She explained what the Hellsing Organization did, and while she offered to let you go, you denied. Instead offering to extend your services.

Surprised at first, she accepted welcoming you as a sort of secretary.

Every night you did the same thing, ran down to the kitchen and offered to take the hungry vampire his meal. The soldiers always gratefully accepted, practically throwing the bucket of ice at you, a pack of blood sitting on top.

He’d welcome you to his chambers with a grin, laughing as you tried to spin a tale about why you were delivrying his meal once again.

“Cowards, are they?” He’d laugh as you nodded quickly, grateful he wasn’t prying into the real reason you were constantly in his presence.

If he was feeling especially feisty, Alucard would stand from his throne and take long stride towards you. He towered over your shorter form, seeming to enjoy the small step back you take. Whether out of fear or to spare your neck, you don’t even know.

He takes the blood packet, thanking you with a grin, strutting back to his chair. When he notices you haven’t left he asks, “Is there something wrong?”

Nervously, you reach into your pocket and pull out a small square piece of paper, extending your hand out for him to accept.

Tilting his head to the side, he takes the paper from your fingers. Examining the plain white surface, before flipping it over to reveal a photograph.

“I was messing around with my old polaroid and managed to get this shot. It made me think of you, so I want you to have it...” You had to force your mouth shut to cease your rambling.

He didn’t respond or make any sign to show he even heard you. The picture was one of the full moon, that occurred last week. The clouds surrounding it like a veil, the brightness of the moon piercing through them.

When his gaze meets yours, you don’t see the same sinister glint. His expression is blank, almost as if he doesn’t know what emotion to express.

“This is very,” his gaze flickers away from yours as he searches for the right words, “generous...Thank you.” There was a sincerity in his voice that you never heard before.

The sound made your cheeks heat up. “Of course! I’m glad you like it.” You smile down at your feet, too bashful to meet his gaze.

The bucket of ice starts to melt, small droplets falling onto the cement floor. “Oh damn! I gotta empty this out.”

Running up the first few steps you turn back to Alucard, “I’ll see you tomorrow night, Alucard.”

Pearly white fangs gleam at you as he grins, “Sweet dreams, my little photographer.”

#alucard #x reader #alucard x reader #headcanons #hellsing scenario #hellsing ultimate #hellsing #hellsing alucard #integra hellsing

[theunderwoodtypist]

The Huntress, Chapter 1

Eyes watched her as she walked through the crowded promenade.  Nervous gazes flitted her direction, quickly redirecting away from her when she glanced back.  Her ears perked at any and all whispered, hushed tones.  Station denizens stepped out of her path, staring with wide eyes as she passed.  Station security chose to look the other way.  As they had learned from past run ins with her kind.  She found the club she had been searching for, the one with a curtain of beads partitioning it off from the bustling walkway outside, the large tinted windows offered very little view of the inside except some shadowy movement.  She stood just outside the club, eyes flicking back and forth, studying the crowd inside through the multicolored beads.  The scent of tobacco, marijuana, and other herbal inhalants burned her nostrils.  She brushed the strands of beads aside and pulled the cloth covering her face down with one hand, and pulling her goggles up, resting them on her forehead, just shy of her pointed ears, with the other.  The blue and violet lights pulsed along with the thumping of the music.  Dancers wearing translucent garments of various colors danced on pedestals in a ring around the circular bar that took up the center of the establishment.  Her whiskers could feel the faint static charge of the invisible forcefields around the pedestals, in place either to keep the patrons from getting handsy with the dancers, or to keep the dancers from escaping, she wasn’t sure which.  In the back by the bar twin stair cases curved upward to a small balcony.  A single doorway, also curtained by beads, lead to the back rooms.  She surveyed the crowd carefully, sizing each patron up.  They were a rough crowd, civilian cargo runners mostly, stopping at the station to unload and get some much needed relaxation.  She recognized a few smugglers she had picked up before.  Most of the patrons were honest and hard working, others simple men and women trying to make their way in the galaxy, though through illegal means.  Which suited her just fine.  A hunter was nothing if she didn’t have prey to pursue.  The one she was after was a goblin.  Nasty little things.  Orange skin, pointed teeth, large ears.  They were disgusting little ghouls, slimy and they smelled of bile.  He was worth quite a bit, and her sources told her he knew things.  Things she needed to know.  His twin ran the bar here.  The owner was some unknown individual, some benefactor that hid in the shadows.  They probably kept the bar going to traffic weapons or drugs.  Why else would someone not want their name on the documents? She approached the bar after she was satisfied with her initial survey of the crowd.  The squat orange goblin looked her up and down for a moment.

“well…”  he said in a slimy, rasping voice, showing her his yellowed pointed fangs.  “Not too often we get mau in here…  What can I get for you little kitty?”  She ignored the derogatory remark and pointed at a bottle of blue liquid in the glass case behind the bar.  The goblin turned and pulled the bottle out and poured a small splash of it in a glass and slid it across the bar to her.  She set a rounded flat disk on the bar and tapped the surface of it.  Sand-like particles orientated themselves into the three dimensional image of another goblin.

“Do you know where he is?”  she asked coldly.  The goblin scowled at the image.

“What’s he done this time?”  He hissed.

“He owes my employer enough credits to buy a small star cruiser.”  She hissed back, showing her own sharp teeth.  

“Listen little kitty, why don’t you run on back to your employer, before you get your pretty little self hurt.”  he growled.  She smirked.  She loved when they played hard to get.

“Just tell me where he is, and I won’t bring you in as well, for the two and a half thousand credit bounty you have on you.”  she downed her drink in one gulp and glanced over her shoulder across the club, just to check on her surroundings.  Her eyes locked onto an eros boy.  He was young, not much into adulthood.  His black hair was unruly, and his grey skin made him look almost like a shadow in the pulsing lights around him.  He studied her with his mismatched blue and green eyes.  He was armed.  A handgun of some sort, holstered on his thigh, as well as a few knives.  He wasn’t wearing the security band around his upper arm that meant he was permitted to carry a weapon.  He had probably snuck around the security check points.  He had an air of nobility, but the posture of a man who was unfazed by violence and death.  He offered her a soft,  gentle smile.  If things went wrong… She would have to drop him quickly. She turned back to the goblin.

“Have you decided?”  She asked, gesturing for the goblin to refill her glass.  He obliged and she downed the drink.

“My brother is in the back rooms.  I’ll go get him for you…”  He said with an unsettling fanged grin.  

“Good boy…”  She smirked, watching him closely as he went up the stairs and into the back.  She unbuckled the strap holding her side arm in place on her thigh and glanced around, looking for the eros again, but he had vanished.  Good… eros tended to be excellent marksman, and small targets to hit.  She didn’t want to have to deal with more bloodshed then necessary.  The goblin bartender rushed out of the back rooms with a disrupter rifle in hand.  She swore loudly and pulled her handgun before dropping to the floor as red hot bursts of plasmic energy streaked through the air.  The cub erupted in screams and panic as patrons scrambled to get away from the weapon fire.  She peaked over the bar and fired twice toward the goblin.  Both shots missed, but she didn’t have a good shot.  She figured he would want to take cover if he was being shot at.  She had been right, the goblin ducked back into the back room, giving her enough time to scramble to her feet and find a better vantage point.  There were nine fairly well covered spots in the club, each, unfortunately, left her back open, and she wasn’t sure how many of the patrons were part of this goblin’s inner circle and armed.  She pulled her goggles down again and fired a few more shots as she moved, ducking behind one of the dancer’s pedestals.  The boy atop it cowered, unable to get off because of the forcefield, but safe because of it as well.  Disrupter blaster scorched the wall behind her and the ceiling.  Patrons were still clambering to get out of the club, crawling over each other, shoving each other to the ground.  They had effectively blocked the only way in or out.  The goblin would be hers.  She fired twice and ducked down again as disrupter blasts impacted the forcefield, their energy redistributed and funneled into the power buffers.  If enough hit the field, it could overload and cause the emitters to explode. A few more blasted hit the field.  She swore under her breath and fired a few more times.  This was going no where quickly, and at this rate she would loose the majority of the bounty paying for the damages.  She grumbled and pulled a few small disks from a few of the numerous pouches on her belt and on her thigh.  She flicked her wrist back, sending them flying toward the goblin.  One flashed brightly, the other erupted in a cloud of smoke.  She dove out from her cover and fired twice into the cloud of smoke.  She stayed still, watching, waiting…  She knew she hit one of the goblins, she could see him struggling to get up with her goggle’s infrared scans.  She cautiously approached the stairs.  She kicked the disrupter rifle over the edge of the platform at the top of the stairs and pulled the goblin to his feet.  He laughed and then winced in pain.  She had shot him in the shoulder and the calf, no permanent damage.

“Why are you laughing?” She hissed.  He looked into the back room.  She followed his gaze and froze.  There was no other goblin…  He had lied…  Her eyes locked onto a pulsing  red light on the floor.  A second disrupter was set in overload on the verge of going critical.      

“It will destroy half the station!” He cackled.  She swore loudly in her native tongue and dove off the balcony. She grabbed one of the heavy mahogany tables and flipped it over, ducking behind it just as the disrupter went critical.  The blast blew out all the heavy tempered glass around the entrance of the club, forcing club goers, tables, bar stools, and other decor and objects through them, including herself.  She hit the ground hard, coming to a tumbling halt, shards of glass and bits of the composite bulkheads were strewn around her, like someone had thrown them about like confetti.  She pushed herself up and, her head spinning, ears ringing.   Clearly the explosion did not destroy half the station…  She struggled to her feet, barely keeping her balance, staring at the smoking front of the club. People dragged their friend’s lifeless bodies out from under debris, people wailed and screamed,  others lay lifeless, killed by the blast. She looked around for her handgun. It had been knocked from her hands by the blast.  The glint of gold caught her attention a few feet away.  She pulled the gun from the debris and reloaded it, limping back into the club to confirm the kill. Before she could make it back inside, station security had her surrounded.  She swore and jammed her gun back into its holster and pulled her goggles back up as she raised her hands over her head.

“My name is Tivali, I’m with the Hunter’s Guild, I have permission from the station master to use deadly force if necessary here.”  she said as the security guards pulled her arms behind her back, fastening restraints to her wrists.  She rolled her eyes but complied with every order they gave her, and answered every question. This was merely an inconvenience…  A rather annoying, time consuming, headache of an inconvenience that would cost her time, money, and her prey… 

#original story #sci fi #original writing #science fantasy #fantasy #bounty hunter #world building