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itsstrange · 11 days

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The Promise

Relationship: Rip Wheeler x Reader

Fandom: Yellowstone

A/N: A small idea I had while daydreaming at work, hope y’all like it. 🥹

Summary: Saying Goodbye Is Always The Hardest. So Is Keeping A Promise.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: (No) Angst, Mention of Military, Farewells, A Little Sad Moment, Angry Rip, Sad Rip, Arguments, Small Confessions.

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ENJOY 🐎

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“So… you’re really goin’ back?”

You look up, meeting his eyes before averting them back down to your duffel bag where you toss the stack of clothes inside. The clothes that have been folded, locked away underneath the bed for the past five years. The clothes you swore you wouldn’t wear again, wouldn’t dare to see until you had kids in the future to explain to them why you had a pile of clothes and photos locked away in some old worn trunk that dusted away underneath your bed.

Unfortunately it didn’t last to reach that day because here you are, packing away the clothes into your tactical duffel bag that was also locked away.

“How long?”

You inhale deeply through your nose before slowly exhaling, still not meeting their gaze you continue packing away, placing the frame photo of you and the boys in the center before zipping the duffel shut.

“Not sure.. too early to say,” You answer as you move the bag to the foot of the bed before sitting down,

“When do you leave?”

You swallow, feeling the way your chest tightens at the thought, “Tomorrow, before sunrise,”

Thick silence hovers the room. Everyone thinking and feeling the same thoughts, emotions.

“And why are you going back again?”

“Will you morons knock it off with the questions,” Lloyd’s husky voice bouncing off the wooden walls brings a small smile and a chuckle from you,

“A buddy of mine needs help,” You still answer Jimmy’s question, which he doesn’t respond with another mostly because he can see the way Lloyd gives him the look,

No other questions were sent your way, neither of them wanting a look from Lloyd as well, nor did they want you to dwell on the heavy mood that hovered. So instead, Ryan and Colby were the first to bring up a farewell party, change of topic. You kindly decline their idea, but of course neither men listens to you.

As Ryan and Colby begin listing items on what to bring for the farewell bonfire, and yelling at one another on who gets to keep your bunk (because it’s the closest one to the bathroom) you couldn’t help the small chuckle that falls from your lips. You were really going to miss every single person in this room. Despite them making you lose a few strands of hair from their idiotic actions, and constant bar brawls, you were surely going to miss them.

They made every other day interesting, every night annoying and fun at the same time with their childlike games that they come up with that sometimes leaves them with bruises or a chipped tooth. Everyday, every night, they made it special and you were definitely gonna miss it.

“Hey I’m not leaving just yet, I still got the whole day and the night before y’all start fighting over my bunk,” You say as you stand from the bed, punching both men on their shoulders,

They both share a laugh with you as they continue listing whatever alcohol they should buy, asking if you preferred hotdogs or burgers as you all walked out the house.

Saying goodbye to them was hard, but not as hard as it’s gonna be when you say it to him. Now that.. that will definitely break your heart. The look in his eyes when you tell him, you can already picture them and from the way your chest tightens, you know it’ll be difficult.

*******

You were currently feeding the rest of the horses inside the stables. Marking down the ones who needed a wash and a trim, which stables needed cleaning. Same old routine before having to check up on the rest of the animals, considering your main job at the ranch was analyzing and tracking the animals health. You weren’t exactly a veterinarian, but you learned a few things throughout the years which John persuaded you to take up on his offer of being in charge of the animals when it came to their monthly health checkups. So of course you took classes to advance your knowledge, to help around the ranch, make it easier for the old timer.

Yes he did have actual trained, experienced, veterinarians working on his animals before, but knowing how you easily picked up the job, how much love and care you gave to the livestock, he knew it was a good investment on both parts. Besides, he trusted you dearly in that department.

Hours had flown by, nearing six o’clock in the afternoon as you were finishing up in the stables before heading out to help Lloyd and the boys to check out some of the cows that were further up in the land. As well as putting up a new fence since the one hanging on was already rusting away due to the weather these past few days, as well as some idiotic trespassers cutting through the fence simply to test the Dutton family.

Just as you throw some fresh hay into one of the stables and patted the horse in its neck as he eats his dinner, the sound of loud rough boots marching against the ground ring in your ears.

“Were you ever gonna tell me?” His loud, rough voice settles behind you, words firm as you dumped hay into the last stable,

You sigh, taking off your gloves and placing them in your back pocket before looking up at him. Eyes wide, angry, betrayal, and fear were written in them. Just like you pictured.

“Yes.. I was,”

“When? Tomorrow? When you leave apparently?” Betrayal can be heard in his voice, blue eyes confirming his tone,

“There hasn’t been a good time to let you know,” You tell him, voice calm, tired, heartbroken,

It wasn’t a lie. When he had gotten back from running an errand with Kayce you were determined to lay it on him, but things got hectic that you weren’t even able to spare him a word. It remained that way for the rest of the day, work after work, problem after problem, when lunch came around he wasn’t at the table eating his supper with everyone else, he was out with Dutton, doing the man a favor, so wanting to talk to him during lunch didn’t happen like you were hoping for.

You told yourself you’d let him know when he came back, but apparently he was out and about with Dutton for the rest of the day. So by the time he had came back was at this very moment, catching you feeding the horses inside the stables. Dutton must’ve told him at some point during their errand runs, who else could have? You weren’t annoyed it was your boss who gave him the news, but you were hoping it’d be you who told him because it came from you, no one else.

“Do you not remember what that place did to you?!” He harshly whispers, taking a step closer to you, “Cause I sure as hell can!”

You lower your gaze to the floor with a faint sigh at his words. Of course you remember. How can one forget something like that? The constant nightmares, the flashbacks, mood swings, not knowing what was real or not, the cold sweats, all of it you remember. The first few weeks of being home after being honorably discharged were rather difficult, your body knew it was home, safe, but your mind was still at war. Constant nightmares played in your in head, bullets flying everywhere, blood stains surrounding you, staining your hands and vest. Screams echoing in your mind on a daily from those who were gunned down, who were injured and were slowly bleeding out in your hands.

It was an everyday thing. The boys, Rip, would beg you to get help, to talk to someone, but you’d just shrug them off telling them you were fine, that it’ll pass.

But you were in fact not okay and the nightmares never ceased.

It was after one particular night that everything had changed. The one night that had you finally reaching out for help, the night that had you admitting that you were not okay.

You had been home for two weeks when it had happened. All it took was a hectic, drunken brawl to trigger the episode. One minute you’re enjoying your beer, slightly laughing at a joke that one of the boys shared, letting lose to ease the noise in your head, then the next you’re being pulled off a blonde head who’s face was nearly disfigured beneath you. Blood covering her once fresh face and clean hair, along with your hands that shook from adrenaline, anger, fear, shell shock.

Once Rip got word of what happened he stormed his way to the bunkhouse which is where he had found you staring at your own reflection in the bathroom. The way a cold and lost look was written in your eyes will forever be embedded in his mind. It wasn’t you who stood standing in front of the mirror with tensed shoulders, hair a mess from sweat and dried blood, the real you was trapped in your mind.

It nearly took all night to bring you back, but not once did he give up.

“Rip,” You softly call his name with an exhausted sigh as you close the door to the stable,

“No. You’re not going!” Blue eyes widening more with fear and rage,

“Yes I am,” You respond in a whisper, “They need me,”

“And we need you here!” I need you here.

It was what he should’ve said, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. Wasn’t exactly how he wanted to let you know the truth, wanted to do it the right way, a more intimate, genuine way. But now, he’s out of time. And most likely lost his chance.

He lost you.

“Rip-,” You begin to say but was interrupted by Kacey walking in the stables,

“We’re loaded to fix the fence,” You turn to him before giving him a small nod,

The youngest Dutton switches his gaze from you to the brute man staring intensely at you, knowing then he had walked into something and immediately sensing the tension surrounding the air. He’s felt this mood before, felt tension between you two every so often, but for some reason this time it was stronger, as if one wrong word said would ignite the awaiting flame. So without another word and only a simple nod, he turns to walk away, giving you two privacy. However, you didn’t stick around. Both to just get the day over with and also to postpone the argument.

If you even get a chance to talk about it with him again.

You hear Rip call out to you as you walk out the stables, halting your steps. You glance over your shoulder, meeting his eyes, but no words were said, so instead you let out a sad sigh through your nose as you continue walking out the building. Leaving the brute man alone in the stables with angered thoughts.

*****

Hours had flown by. After fixing the fence, which took nearly the whole day since it was worse than anyone thought, doing daily health checks on the animals, running a quick errand with Beth, everyone was finally able to wash up and spend the remaining hours with you. Everyone sat around the bonfire sharing stories about anything and everything, chatter, laughter and music can be heard in the darkened night.

Empty beer and whiskey bottles, sticks with dried marshmallows and chocolate littered the ground around everyone’s feet. It was a night you’d deeply remember, a night you’d miss, a night you wished would happen every Friday, but you knew it wouldn’t be possible. At least not with you. Not anymore. You tried keeping a strong face, positive thoughts, positive energy, for the sake of everyone around you. They all had high hopes of you coming back home, claiming you’d be home in less than two months because you were tough as a bull, but you knew the truth. The reality of it all.

Obviously you didn’t remind them of the truth, didn’t want to take away the little happiness they held onto for you, the strong faith they had. So all you did was smile at them, raise your glass and down the last bit of your drink. Every so often you’d get lost in your thoughts, thinking of the mission, the serious consequences, the challenges that will come with it, the horror you’ll soon face, but before you can trap yourself in such thoughts they were there to bring you back. Invite you to their conversations, their stories they were sharing, their jokes, which you were thankful for.

What you didn’t notice was the way a pair of blue eyes have been secretly staring at you from across the fire pit. A dark corner where the fire barely illuminated his features. Light or not he didn’t care if he was caught staring at you, everyone was able to read his opinion of the whole situation but no one dared to ask him about it. He was already a fumed bull waiting to be provoked.

There were times where you’d glance up and catch him staring, but not once did you confront him. Making a scene in front of everyone was the last thing you wanted, so you ignored him and his glaring daggers.

Although, at one point during the night, Colby was the one to mention they had ran out of marshmallows, which you volunteered to grab the extra pack from the bunk house. Slightly buzzed you make your way through the Dutton ranch with sluggish steps till you push open the door to the bunks. Walking to the kitchen you grab the new pack of marshmallows sitting on the counter along with another couple chocolate bars. Just as you turn to head back out, your steps come to a stop when you see Rip standing by the couch.

Face emotionless, but eyes dark, red. Was he crying?

“Havin’ fun?” Rip questions, tone cold and firm, yet his blue eyes have another written emotion in them,

You shrug a shoulder, “Tryin’,”

He scoffs, “Yeah I see that.. but it ain’t workin’,”

You knew exactly what he was referring to. The constant lost in thought when the conversation was directed somewhere else. What you didn’t know until now was those same eyes that have been staring at you from the dark were analyzing you throughout the entire night. Watching the way your smile quickly faded as you once again lost yourself in your thoughts, watching the way your fingers peeled off the label from your beer bottle, the way your leg bounced uncontrollably from nerves, fear, and anxiousness. He knew you were afraid, he read you perfectly, but he knew nothing he’d say would change your mind. Not now, not ever.

You were stubborn like a goddamn mule.

“Yeah well, it’s a little hard to have fun when I got two sets of eyes throwing daggers at me all night,” You say, matching his tone as you stare into his eyes,

Heavy tension once again surrounds you two, the muffled music coming from outside was the only thing that can be heard in the room. Neither of you said anything for a good minute or so, just staring at one another with pain written in both your eyes with tears threatening to build. This wasn’t how you wanted to give your farewells to him. Having an argument with him before you left was something you did not want, but yet here you are.

“Can we just..,” You pause, letting out an exhausted sigh before continuing, “Enjoy the rest of the night before I have to catch a flight in a few hours?”

Rip stares deep in your eyes. Hurt, sadness, anger, and fear were written in his blue ones, they were easy to read, especially when he stared at you the way he was staring. He didn’t bother to hide it, yet he didn’t express it to you verbally. Not like he had to or wanted to, it was obvious on how he felt of the whole situation.

“They’re out there celebrating your death..,” He says pointing a long finger at the door then continues with, “.. and I ain’t being apart of it,”

His voice slightly breaks with each word. His blue eyes standing out more when tears begin building, but not one dares to slide down his cheeks, at least not in front of you. Not saying another word, he turns around and heads out the door with a harsh shove that has it banging against the wall.

Whatever string was left holding your heart in place had finally snapped as you watched the door shut behind him. The last memory you’d have of him. This wasn’t how you wanted to leave things with him, he was the only one who could have helped you through it, fought through the dark times, the constant noises in your head. He was the only one who you stayed alive for while you were out in the field, but now that he’s walked away, not wanting any part of it, you didn’t know if it was even worth staying alive once you landed on base. He was your anchor to it all.

And now you’d be stranded in the dark, drowning with nothing to hold you upright. Keep you up float when you felt like sinking, when you felt like the water was too strong for your fighting body. The one person who could’ve saved you from it all was now walking away, leaving you alone.

‘Maybe it was for the best.’

You tell to yourself. You convince yourself. Maybe him not being apart of it, apart of your life would one day guide him to a better life with the love of his life, guide him to someone who can make him happier, stronger, happier.

It was for the best that he left.

*****

4:30 am

Throwing your duffle and backpack in the backseat you shut the door before facing the small crowd. You give everyone a big hug, including the man himself, John Dutton who hugged you for a good long minute before being slightly shoved by Beth who took you in a stronghold as she secretly let the tears fall down her cheeks. You don’t know how, but you kept your own tears from spilling down. Once departing from the woman you go ahead and start hugging the cowboys, sharing a few laughs with them as they joke with you one last time. Which you appreciated their effort in trying to lighten things up, but you knew they knew nothing they can say now will help. But still, you appreciate it.

“So.. who won?” You say when Ryan and Colby stand in front of you,

They both share a look, small smile forming on their lips, “Neither,” Colby says,

You give them a confused look, but Ryan continues with, “We decided to leave it ready for you when you come back,”

Come back. Something you knew was a big word at the moment.

“Can’t have it ready forever,” You say with a sad chuckle,

“We can and we will,” Ryan firmly states, letting you know no one will come near the empty bed unless it’s you,

It was a faint demand from them. They wanted you to come back, no matter how hard it will be, they demanded that you come back to reclaim your bed at the bunkhouse, and that alone brought the ball back in your throat.

“Gonna miss you dorks,” You manage to say before quickly bringing them both for a group hug,

Both men wrap their arms around you, burying their faces in your hair as they cherish the moment. As you go to pull away both their hands on either side of your hip tighten, not wanting the hug to end, but eventually step away from you.

You give them a small smile and then a small wave to everyone huddle in front of you before turning around to climb into the truck where Roscoe patiently waited for you.

“Ready?” The soldier asks as you take one last glance out the window, watching everyone wave at you with saddened smiles, the ranch standing tall and beautifully behind them.

Letting out a small sigh you give him a nod.

In a matter of seconds the truck roars to life before beginning to move down the driveway and out of the Duttons ranch. Silence engulfs the car, only the sound of the radio softly playing in the speakers is heard. Leaning your head against the headrest behind you, you let your mind drift away, thinking about everyone at the ranch, playing their faces in your mind to not forget them, your fingers softly playing with a small deer origami that Tate had made for you last night for good luck. Then thinking about him once again.

Remembering how things were left between you two. Wishing you could’ve fixed things before you left, wished you could’ve said the truth, wished he could’ve have given you the chance to let you show him just how much he meant to you. But he didn’t. None of it happened.

So now, all you’ll think about is What If.

While driving halfway out the ranch and you still being lost in thought, you didn’t capture the moment a large black figure blending in the dark speeding in your direction until the truck comes to an abrupt stop. Causing your seatbelt to lock just in time to catch your body from going forward.

“The fuck?” Roscoe reacts, putting the gear in park as he eyes the figure that is currently blocking his way,

You clench your jaw as you make eye contact with him, even in the dark and with the only source of light from the headlights you both immediately lock eyes.

Of course it’s Rip on top of his horse. Black hat on his head with his black jacket wrapped on his frame.

“I’ll take care of this,” You say, never breaking eye contact with him as you unbuckle yourself and open the door,

“(Y/n) we don’t have time for this,” Roscoe tries arguing back, but you repeat yourself as you hop off the truck,

Shutting the door and standing by it you face him, where he still remained on top of his horse.

“Rip seriously what is your problem? I don’t have time to deal with you right now!” You yell as the brute man climbs off his horse,

A grim look was written on his face as he makes his way towards you. A look he only has when he’s angry about something, and right about now he’s angry at you, you knew that.

“I swear to god Rip if you don’t get out the way I’m gonna-,” Your words were cut off by a pair of rough lips latching onto yours,

Your eyes grow wide in anger, shock, and confusion. But once you feel the way his hand gently cups the side of your face you realize what exactly is happening and only react back. Your own hands finding their way to his face, fingers slowly tangling themselves in his soft, dark curly hair at the base of his neck. A deep, saddened relieved sigh escapes from you two as you both pour the hidden truth into the kiss. Deepening it and cherishing the moment at the same time, neither one wanting or planning to break it off, but you both knew it had to happen, you had to leave.

Which is why Rip got a little selfish for a second, he deepened the kiss, licking his way into your mouth as he held a tight grip on your hip to not let you out of his hold. Just a few more seconds of this, he had to. If this was the only time he would get this opportunity until you came back home, then he was sure as hell he would take every second that was available to have you in his arms, have your lips molding with his, have your fingers tugging on his hair, have your breath fanning his lips, have both your hot tears smear against his own cheeks. He was taking advantage of the moment because he knew it would be more than a month that he would be able to feel it again. Feel this moment again.

Eventually, you both do break the kiss, but not once did he let an inch form between you two. Leaning his forehead against yours, he lets you both catch a breather from the intense, beautiful moment.

“You come back to me you hear?” He whispers, beautiful blue eyes now searching for your own,

When he finally does find your (E/c) eyes that he has grown to love, he whispers once again, “You come home,”

New tears fall down your cheeks at his words, you knew you couldn’t make such a big promise, especially in your line of work. It was a rule, a rule everyone in the military who serves knew they should never make, because they knew reality was always behind that promise.

You stare into those blue eyes of his that have tears of their own, some finding their way down his rough skin, while the rest build at the brim of his eyes. You knew he knew you couldn’t make that promise, but he knew you’d fight for it no matter what, no matter how impossible it might seem, because he knew you always kept your promise. That’s who you were. Loyal, loving, protective, unafraid, and a true fighter.

You stare into his eyes a little longer, feeling the way another tear slides down your cheeks then feeling the rough pad of his thumb gently wiping it away. The words get caught in your throat, the words where you wanted to tell him to be realistic, to not make you promise anything because disappointment and pain is the only thing he’ll receive, but before you can even force them out you hear your name being called from inside the truck.

“We gotta go,” Roscoe softly says, hating to interrupt the moment, hating to part you from the man you clearly love,

You sniff, looking down at the ground then back up to Rip where he only gives you a small smile.

“C’mon,” Rip whispers as he leads you back into the truck,

Once sitting inside, shutting the door, Rip points at the man behind the wheel before saying, “You look after her you hear?”

Roscoe nods at him, “You’ve got my word man,”

Rip nods back before averting his eye to you. You sat there, tears still slowly sliding down your cheeks, you weren’t ready to say goodbye to him, not after you both finally confessed to each other. Which reminds you, you had to say it, in fear of not being able to ever again.

“Rip I-,” You try but he cuts you off with a shake of his head,

“No. Don’t say it. You say it when you come back,” He demands, small smile tugging on the corner of his lips, “Just know I do too,”

I do too.

You sniff once again, tears falling down as you glance behind him, seeing the ranch and the bunkhouse glow in the background. Memories flash in your mind. All those laughs, tears, injuries that you’ve accumulated over the years with everyone who lives and works at the ranch played in your head, reminding you that you had a family to come back to once again, you had friends who were also waiting for you to come back with open arms. You had a life to get back to.

Come back.

Averting your eyes back to his that had tears of their own falling down his cheeks, you stare at him as you remembered, you had him to come back to. He was your main reason to come back home, he was the reason why you weren’t going to die in the field, he was the reason why you weren’t going to give up when shot down, he was the reason why you weren’t going bleed out. He was your reason why you were coming home.

And if anyone tried stopping you from doing so, then it would be the last thing they ever did.

Because you are coming home.

Reaching a hand out the window, you let your small held cup his bearded cheek before letting your own thumb wipe away the tears that fall down. Looking into his eyes with a firm stare, a promise, you let him hear the words.

“I’m coming home,”

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-Ahhh It’s Finally Here!!! I’m Not Kidding I Have Been Going Back & Forth With This One. Mostly Because I Had Writers Block, But Also Because I Would Change A Lot Things & Finding New Ideas To Replace The Old Ones.

-But Again! Thank You To Those Who Have Been Patient & Have Been Waiting For This Wheeler Fic! More To Come!!

-Lastly, Make Sure To Turn On Post Notifications!! 🔔 🔔 For More Updates!

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Part 2 ?

#rip wheeler #rip wheeler x ofc #rip wheeler x reader #rip wheeler x female character #rip wheeler x you #rip wheeler smut #Yellowstone #yellowstone x reader #cole hauser #cole hauser x reader #Cole hauser x you #angst with a happy ending #pain and fluff #military fiction

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kinda-cute-kinda-insane · 15 days

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Ochaco with a rich!reader who loves to spoil her

I was originally a yandere blog why am I writing fluff bruh (I swear I’ll come back to my roots y’all)

Fem!reader, Ochaco is not used to being spoiled with expensive things and get nervous whenever you do, reader have a crush on Ochaco and confessed, reader is older (by one year)

You were a second year in UA business department class. And just like any other business course students sports festival is a great opportunity for you to set your eyes on potential future heroes.

Just like everyone else you’ve heard about the recent attacks on USJ, so you payed more attention to the 1A students.

You can see a lot of promising students in that class, reckless but sure you can shape them to be better.

But on particular student caught your eyes the most, Ochaco Uraraka.

Amazing quirk, passionate too, and her unexpected tactics against her blonde classmates truly amaze you. Not to mention super cute.

What the hell, maybe you’re thinking too much of this, but maybe your friends prediction for ‘the oh so serious y/n’ to fall with a cute girl is true.

Well whatever stereotypes can go to hell.

Ever since then you began trying to get close to her, approaching her during lunch, having small talks and exchanging numbers. You even got close enough to call each other by your first name(A lot of your classmates complained saying how it took them a year to be able to call you by your first name)

But there’s one thing you love to do the most; giving her gifts. You suppose it’s because of how when you were younger your parents always gave you gifts as a sign to show love(and to make up how busy they were with their business)

So you done the same, giving her small gifts. Watches, perfumes, bags and literally anything that reminds you of her.

But Uraraka feels so overwhelmed. Listen, she love love the gifts so much, it means a lot to her! But it’s just too expensive not to mention the amount you give her too.

She’s not used to having all of this gifted to her, considering her family economic condition growing up.

And she feels bad, she felt as if she was just using you for money. She was not, but she can’t help but feel like it, every time she mentioned her likings to something you always come and give it to her like nothing!

She really like you, you’re just so kind, so cool, and so beautiful to her. And it bothers her that it seems she is being a burden to you.

So she decided to confront you about it.

“Hello Ochaco, mind walking to the gates with me?” You smiled at her. “Oh hey Y/n-senpai! Of course wait a second,” she said, hurriedly closing her bags.

You stood straight in front of the large doors, some of the girls inside began whispering to Ochaco with a big smile, leaving the said girl blushing.

“Bye guys,” she bid all of her classmates goodbye, while you just gave them a small nod. The walks are quiet, which was weird. Sure you were always the quiet type, but usually Ochaco would already talk about her day, how hard her class was or how exciting her hero trainings were.

“Hey Ochaco, is there something wrong?” You asked her, worried as ever. “O-oh there’s just something on my mind I guess,” she nervously replied.

“Is that so? Mind sharing with me?” You gently smiled at her, trying to encourage her to share whatever has been bothering her. “Uhm it’s about your gifts senpai,” she whispered.

“What’s wrong do you not like it?” You furrowed your brows, maybe the things you bought for her was not to her taste?

“No! No! It’s not like that I swear!” She said panicked, afraid that you got the wrong idea. “Then what is it?” You asked her again.

“It’s just… I’m not used to get these expensive things and I feel like I’m just using you as if our whole friendship is just all about material,” she sughed. “Oh Ochaco, I’m sorry I made you feel like that,” you gently took her hands and hold them.

“That’s just how I’ve been taught to show my affection, I have a hard time trying to communicate with my feelings,” you smiled at her. “I really like you Ochaco, and if it made you uncomfortable that I shower you with gifts then I’ll try to learn to communicate my feelings for you” your other hand gently touched her cheeks.

“So I’ll start with this, I have a crush on you Ochaco.” She immediately blushed at your words. You let go of her face “I’ll give you sometime to think about your feelings too okay? Whatever your answer is please, never grew distant from me.”

She shyly nods at you, you both continue to walk to the station still holding hands. You who refused to let go of the moment, and her enjoying the warmth whilst thinking about your confession.

Unknowingly the girls were looking above from the window, fangirling of your interaction with their classmates. Hopefully Ochaco is ready for the question thrown at her tomorrow.

#bnha #bnha fluff #ochaco uraraka #bnha ochaco #ochaco x reader #ochaco uraraka x reader #bnha x reader #reader insert

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quillyfied · 6 days

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Hellaverse Theories: Hazbin Hotel S1E4

Welcome to Quilly’s Hellaverse Theories, where I overthink the entire Hellaverse! Second episode for tonight is the absolute masterpiece that is Angel’s episode, which might not get my head turning on many theories but does give me many feels, so let’s crack on.

Hazbin Hotel, s1e4:

I SEE IT. 3:38, there’s another Morningstar family portrait in the background right next to Angel’s head, far right. I’ve seen this one up close elsewhere, but it’s nice to see it in the show; Charlie looks a little older, maybe preteens, and her parents are clearly nowhere near each other. Separation impending if not already implemented. Sad. But more importantly: it was painted at that very hotel. The background details of the painting are the same. I just sort of find it significant that Charlie took over a building clearly falling to ruins that not only belongs to her family (and isn’t being used so is perfect for her to just…move into), but might have been the last place she saw her parents together and still making an effort for her. Hmm. Hmm hmm hmm. Interesting.

“Why is this so hard? What am I doing wrong?” PRINCESS OF PRIDE, FOLKS. Said it before. I’ll say it again. She’s a natural at overestimating and underestimating herself all at once, inserting herself into situations she has no business being in and thinking she can do just about anything she sets her mind to, while simultaneously downplaying her own strengths in favor of trying to be what she thinks everyone else needs. Chef’s kiss, perfect character conflict, no notes.

(Angel’s butt has freckles. It’s a detail that makes me giggle every time.)

“I’m—coming!” “Not off camera, you’re not!” Perfect line delivery. Hysterical. Low-hanging fruit but way funnier for going for it instead of passing over it. Nice.

Alright, another aside about Valentino: he’s an idiot, but he isn’t stupid. Not entirely. I’m glad we all reached the same conclusion that Val licking Charlie’s arm is a power move, as is his physical imposition into her space. A reminder to her that she’s in his domain right now, and a clear setup for himself to have all the chips in this interaction despite his wretched poker face. Then again, what need does he have for a poker face when he DOES have all the power in that situation, at least all the power that matters—power over Angel himself, whom Charlie cares about? His ace is right there, out in the open as both symbol and warning. This metaphor is falling apart. I don’t know anything about poker. But y’all get what I’m saying, right? Val doesn’t need to be the smartest man in the room when he’s already made himself the most powerful through fairly simple and effective tactics. Licking his way up Charlie’s arm and offering her a job and making her deeply uncomfortable is him regaining the power she takes from him just by existing in his space as a more powerful demon than he is by default. It’s slimy. It's foul. It’s effective. And it works, dammit.

Charlie. My love. My princess. My dearest. Did you really just try to suggest…more WHOLESOME SCENARIOS for PORN?? Like I believe she can do it, and especially given what she’s watching Angel about to be subjected to, I can see where her mind is at with “more wholesome,” but. The wording. The gumption. Charlie this is pornography, not romance. Not saying the two can be mutually exclusive, but given what kind of studio Val runs and what people go to porn for as opposed to other kinds of storytelling…baby. Honey. No. Bull in a china shop, thy name is Charlie Morningstar.

Alright, this here: the first time we see a demon contract. Obviously no fine print to get our greedy little eyeballs on, just a simple bit of imagery (almost like the contracts in The Little Mermaid, tbh, same color, same sort of vibe, why am I imagining Val swanning around his tower singing Poor Unfortunate Souls and why would Joel Perez absolutely CRUSH it—), but combining that with how casually Val abuses and later assaults Angel really drives home how helpless the contractee is. They’re entirely owned. The only thing they have of value, their souls, their Free Will, belongs to someone else. I imagine soul contracts are of particular abhorrence to Lucifer; they’re actively throwing away his gift when they enter into those. Though he probably never thinks about them at all, tbh, he doesn’t need to own a soul to have power. And the power of souls and owning of souls and what that power can do and manifest as is so nebulous but SO interesting, and I’m especially excited to get to talk to it in regards to Alastor and Husk, but I have to get through the Poison number first, excuse me for a moment.

(Angel is so brave and so good for defending Charlie even though she’s literally the Princess of Hell; I don’t know that she could squash Valentino like the bug he is, not until she gains more confidence in herself, but Lucifer and Alastor certainly could and they both have vested interest in keeping her safe and happy. Though for very different reasons. The point being: Charlie doesn’t need Angel to protect her, but he does it anyway and I love him for that.)

(Additional sidenote: I think Val might have some scary vocal stuff happening when he’s threatening Angel, but that’s as close as I personally remember seeing any other Overlords even come close to what Alastor can do. Which begs the question: is it because Alastor is special, or is it because Alastor is a dramatic bitch who throws his power around because he can?)

The nature of Angel’s contract with Val is so interesting too, especially when put with the visual cues we have about Husk’s even just in the Loser number; Val owns Angel, but can only force him to do things in the studio (which very handily lends quiet strength to Angel’s presence in the first episode and his hurt feelings in the second, and gives more context for Val’s hissy fit in the second episode. If Angel isn’t living in the studio, Val can’t do whatever he wants whenever he wants. Angel gains some independence and it’s powerful). Val can throw Angel around outside of it because he still owns Angel, but the power seems less; however, the look of his chains no matter what are wispy and insubstantial, clearly a callback to Val’s toxin but still not the strongest-looking chain in the world (though because it looks like the toxin, there's also elements of Angel choosing this, Angel being addicted to the situation, Angel's loss of control because of his addiction, Angel wanting to leave but he can't, etc). Angel’s ropes in Loser are a mess, tangled but loose-looking, like he could wriggle out given enough time. Husk, on the other hand, is bound tightly and his chain, when we see it next episode, looks significantly more substantial and real. None of this is new information, we all know it, but still. Establishing this for my own benefit while I spin off into wild tangents about the nature of Overlords and Hell, because Husk says something incredibly interesting during Loser that I have sunk my teeth into and apparently can’t let go of.

But before that: detour to mention how amusing I find it that loan sharks apparently are a constant in Hell, no matter if they’re sinners or Hellborn, but I also really have to wonder if any of the sharks in HH are actually Hellborn and they just didn’t get the black blood that Hellborn have in HB because they’re not allowed to exist in the same universe anymore. I have another example to support this theory but it isn’t until the last episode so I’ll leave it alone for now.

Alright, back to Husk and Overlords and blahdiblahdiblah: I don’t know anything about casino games, so I would love some guidance on this, but…did Alastor win Husk’s soul with a game of “pick a card, any card?” Bc that’s sure as heck what it looks like. I think the flashback might be more symbolic than literal, but with Husk leaning forward with a finger extended, it sure LOOKS like he’s picking a card out of Alastor’s hand and hoping it isn’t one that’s going to screw him over. But even that feels at odds with the wording of Husk discussing his own deal: “So when you’re down on your luck, you’ll do anything to keep yourself afloat, even making deals yourself.” And later, in the song: “I sold my soul to save my power.” What…does that mean? What does it mean for Husk and his abilities now? What does it mean for Alastor and what he gets from the deal?

What Alastor gets from it, I’m building up to, because I’m pretty sure the ultimate show of it is in the finale. But what HUSK got from the deal…is really unclear. He sold his soul to save his power, to keep himself afloat—and yet he doesn’t own a casino (if he ever did in this version, but come on, he was an Overlord, you don’t get to be one of those without at least a base of operations), he’s at Alastor’s beck and call, he doesn’t exhibit any abilities more powerful than any other bog-standard demon. The exploding dice and fighting with cards is cool, but so is the ability to pull six tommy guns out at will. The specifics of what this means might not become clear for a while, but while Husk has a lot of strength that’s more internal than external—his wisdom and compassion are nothing to sneeze at, even if he hides both under layers of cynicism and apathy—it would be very interesting to see Alastor use Husk for something other than bartending and see what utility he might have apart from that. Because Husk as a source of endless entertainment could certainly be all Alastor has Husk for, but this is a guy who made no bones about destroying Overlords, canonically multiple very powerful Overlords, and using them for his own entertainment and power. And yet Husk is more or less just himself despite having once been an Overlord too. Not destroyed, not subsumed, not will-broken. He’s scared of Alastor, as he has every right to be, but not so scared that he won’t grumble and complain and try to talk to his boss when he’s clearly in the middle of a pissing contest with the King of Hell, exCUSE you Husker.

Anyway. My current theory is that maybe Husk made a deal to not be killed or destroyed by someone he got into much deeper water with than he was prepared for, and throwing his lot in with Alastor was better than facing destruction. But still, that element of randomness that appears to be in Husk’s flashback…it haunts me. Sinners sell their souls because they’re desperate. Was Husk even still an Overlord by the time Alastor got to him? Did Husk still own any souls, and if he did, what happened to them? Because as will become clear in one episode, you can have someone else own your soul and still be in control of your own contracts. But whether that’s a special clause of the deal Alastor made, or if it’s usual for even Overlords to sometimes be in thrall to greater Overlords…not sure. Not enough data.

And while I would love to continue typing like a madwoman while I pause these episodes for long stretches of time, I must obey the demands of my body and rest.

#quilly's hellaverse theories #hazbin hotel #quilly writing

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gildedgaze · 3 years

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Why Pacat’s Captive Prince is so ✨captivating✨ and the role of fandom in an often monotoned life.

By way of warning *Spoiler Alert*

So it’s been a few months now since I went on a whim and decided to read my copy of Captive Prince which had been sitting on my bookshelf for years, along with many novels I have yet to delve into for leisure.

Upon devouring the series, the accompanying short-story collection, and now being neck deep in both reading and writing Capri fanfics—I decided to take a step back, in order to reflect on the aspects which I believe made Pacat’s work so distinct, and ultimately fantastic:

The blend of third-person/the unreliable narrator: I think it was clear pretty early on, that Laurent knew who Damen was. Damianos was giving very much dumb jock energy and I will admit it was sometimes frustrating to read. I will say however, that his ignorance in this respect, is reflective of how black and white his thinking is. He held a “right is right” and “wrong is wrong” type of mentality, which is the stark opposite of Laurent, whose nature is cunning as a means of survival from the regent’s abuse. And as they say, opposites attract! Unreliable narrator was definitely a literary choice, one which I found to be effective.

The world-building. Okay, the absolute debauchery that was thrown in our faces in book one was jarring—but I think there is something to be said about the function of shock and the depictions of pleasure. Veretians were described to do everything in extreme hedonistic extravagance, from sex-rings to mentions of public consummation, I’d argue that we as readers were made to feel just as shocked as Damen was when he was first faced with it all. Indulgences like sex, which is often done in private is brought to the forefront of this fictitious world. The hidden being made into a public spectacle in such a bold fashion has a sort of twisted appeal.

The idea of a homo-normative society. The way in which Veretian custom frowns upon the opposite sex coupling up because they’d produce bastards, and the encouragement of same-sex relations is a very interesting concept. “Bastards curse the line, and sour the milk, ruin the crops, and drag the sun out of the sky” (Prince’s Gambit, 168). IM—Our often homophobic society could never.

Illicitness/opposites attract: Damen and Laurent are polar opposites. Akielos and Vere are described as rival countries, so to have two people from warring lands fall in love, already aligns with the famed trope that predates the iconic Romeo and Juliet. Throw in a pleasure slave/master dynamic and also “my lover is my brother’s killer”—whew! The illicitness is shockingly off of the charts, which makes the story so so good.

On the significance of re-reading—now, upon re-reading Prince’s Gambit and Kings Rising, I clocked several intricacies and notable details that I did not recognize nor fully appreciate the very first time I delved into the books:

Jokaste: ugh my girl Jo—Y’ALL KNOW HOW I FEEL. Pls, when you’ve finished here, go show my fics ‘Mirrored Reptiles’ and ‘Meet Me At The Clock’ some love on AO3. Shameless plug aside, Jokaste’s switch in Kings Rising, from antagonist who betrayed Damen in book one, to it being revealed that she in fact saved him from Kastor by sending him off to Vere is such an UNDERRATED function of hers! If it wasn’t for Jokaste, Damen and Laurent would never have met! Every scene she was in during Kings Rising were so damn powerful, she was basically Laurent but scarier because she was calm about it!

The lyrics of the songs described during the parties scenes which played along with the kithara. Kill me. The poetry, I just can’t. Too good.

Laurent’s tactical manoeuvres while fighting against his uncle. Holy crap, everything from his negotiations with Vask and meeting Nikandros, I was so caught up with the romance that at first I missed the extent of the political complexities and the sheer treacheries at play. Laurent as a character is honestly so resilient.

The ending. People tend to say it felt rushed and at first, I thought the same. But the second time I read it over, it absolutely makes sense. It’s a full circle moment for Laurent to have killed Kastor, it made equal what Damen did to Auguste. Damen being left to nearly bleed out on the floor of the baths is honestly very fitting, considering everything that transpired prior. We are reminded that this isn’t just a love story, it is a war-centred narrative, thus a dramatic ending such as was published is appropriate.

Trigger Warning: Mentions of R*pe & Sexual Assault

Finally, a note on the regent and sexual assault. Critics deem that this story condones rape, it is clear from the early parts of book one, that it does not. Damen is described to be sickened by the sexual activities of minors from the get-go. Rape is addressed, not condoned in this work. I would have closed its bounds and threw it out if the narrative was some bullshit romanticizing a minor and a grown ass man. The Regent is disgusting and got everything coming to him by the end of it all. As for the mention of aspects like sexual assault and slavery, though unfortunate, disgusting and utterly wrong to read about or to consider, these are the realities that span global history. Though I want to say that we’ve come far, I’d argue that the atrocities detailed in this work still happen to this day, though in discreet forms, which is honestly even more alarming. If anything, Captive Prince touches on larger problems that span far greater than the fictitious world Pacat presents.

On fandom and fanfiction:

When I finished the trilogy and ate up the short stories, it still wasn’t enough. It’s been a long while since I’ve indulged in fanfiction, haven’t shipped a couple since Larry from One Direction y’all 😂. Life just got in the way. Though after speaking with my lovely cousin who has always been involved in some type of fandom, upon her suggestion I searched Captive Prince on AO3, and the rest is history. My god, I am astounded by the sheer talent that some writers possess, truly, there are folks out here thriving in their craft who need to be published in a professional capacity. Furthermore, for me to be able to write as a way to give back to the series that has meant so much to me, in a time of my life that I chose not to detail for anonymity’s sake—has honestly been so wonderful. Even though Captive Prince was published many years ago and I am late joiner of this fandom, the beauty of fanfic is that it stands the test of time and exists in order that people will always have free access, and enjoy the labour of love that writers extend by their own genuine volition.

What a joy it is to have discovered Captive Prince, in the year that Dark Rise is being released.

In a rather monotoned life, to have fanfic is to have a glimmer of hope.♥️

#captive prince #captive prince trilogy #cs pacat #damen x laurent #damianos of akielos #laurent of vere #laurent x damen #lamen #personal ramblings #book review

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nrghfufu-brr · 2 years

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why it will never work out between you two pt.1 (aot characters - survey corps edition)

aot characters x gn survey corps! reader

tag and warning(s): angst. probably unhealthy relationship dynamics. break ups. probably me cussing. spoilers.

these are all my own thoughts, opinions, and what i observed with the characteristics and what they went through of these characters and why being in a long-term relationship or trying with these characters will be a hard feat to conquer. i would like to hear from y’all as well weeee (i might miss out some details since i suffer from bad memory and retention skills)

im sorry for spreading these negative emotions, but it must be done. tho im sure some (a lot) of others already did these type of head canons.

heavily inspired by a lot of taylor swift songs and love it if we made it by the 1975

Okay, let’s start with the elephant in the room. It’s AOT we’re talking about and why being in a relationship with anyone will be painful. The inevitable: death. Especially with those who are fighting in the frontlines, honey you’re in for a lot of pain.

EREN YEAGER

Eren’s determination is something that can’t be wavered easily. He is committed to the cause of protecting the people he cares and loves as well as the freedom of everyone. He’ll do anything in his power to reach that goal.

If only things were normal, he would be like that towards your relationship with him but saved from the whole fighting for Paradis.

But the consequences of what happened to the past, it had to be on Eren’s shoulder to bear the weight of it.

The relationship started off sweet (much to Mikasa’s dismay) when both of you met during Training Corps. Two cadets who were determined to the bone.

That’s when every event started after graduating. It drained everyone, especially the ones who joined the Survey Corps. That whole separation from Eren when he was taken by the Survey Corps after knowing he can shift to a Titan, it gave you time to reflect on how your relationship would go.

It was still sweet yet the pressure both of you felt for humanity, it led to both of you to gradually drift because of priorities.

A few gentle moments together then bled to less gentle but more aggressive moments.

His temper was something and you also matched yours to his. But both of you made up and would move on easily from it. It's just that… those left impressions on you.

A few more events and it's when Eren discovers he has the Founding Titan, you guys made a curt end to your relationship.

There were no tears but it did hurt you both.

If only things were different.

ARMIN ARLERT

How do I say this…you felt at ease but at the same time uneasy. You knew well Armin was capable of pulling off any plan due to his sweet exterior yet viscous mind, and if it meant like what he did to Annie before you guys were a thing… it made you feel cautious around him.

He did keep reassuring you he has lost feelings for Annie.

But you weren’t able to shake off the feeling of being a rebound. A rebound of what he felt towards Annie, he decided to direct it towards you.

It felt nice, but it just started getting bitter when you knew he would always try to go to where Annie was kept.

You’d confront him about it but he has his ways with you. Always. Then you’ll constantly fall for it. You always held deep affections for him and he used it to his advantage against you.

Then you finally decided this needed to end. Even the other’s say so. It took everything to you to bring it up. Being petty, you used his tactics against him.

You were free but at the same time felt empty.

What would have happened if you got a hold of his attention first?

JEAN KIRSTEIN

He has a thing for Mikasa and you just decided to admire from afar. You knew we weren't able to be on the same level as her.

But then it shifted he had a bit of a thing for you. He even asked you out for a walk around town when both of you had free time. Just like that, you were living the moment with the person you had your eyes on.

It got to the point that you two were together, minus being affectionate. You would just be with him but nothing of what everyone says about relationships.

Being mutual? You never felt it with Jean, most of the time it would just be him trying to go up against Eren and he would just leave you to your own devices.

During expeditions though, he was more caring and concerned to you. But you felt like it was all comradery.

That moment when Mikasa got injured it all just became clear to you that he doesn’t hold you in the same regard for the girl who was everything anyone can ask for.

Being able to settle down for a bit from all the chaos that has been going on, you broke up with him.

What you didn’t know was that he wanted to start things with you seriously but he respected your decision and knew you deserved better.

CONNIE SPRINGER

Him, you, and Sasha were just a chaotic tandem. The three of you and sometimes with Jean, would just get in trouble. Sharing the same energy of not being serious, it didn’t make you ignore the feelings you had growing for the guy.

It then led to a whole lot of self-torment of wanting to let him know but being worried of how things would end, you didn’t want things to be awkward.

But as soon as things in the world got crazier, you had to dig those feelings down. There was no time for it.

When Sasha died, he admitted that she tried to get you and him getting together. That shocked and just hurled your insides in agony. You didn’t see the point of trying to get into a relationship with him with the world seeming to end.

It just felt…too late.

i'll write the others soon dw! feedback and criticism are highly appreciated! (its nice to see other peeps react to what u write njdbjd)

#attack on titan #anime characters #character x you #x reader #shingeki no kyoujin #eren jaeger #eren yeager #jean kristen #armin arlert #connie springer #headcanons #angst #character headcanons #snk x you #its 3 in the morning #i hope this is okay!

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yesimwriting · 3 years

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The Needs of Pain (part 2)

A/n since y’all liked part one!!

... i think i could make a part 3?? we’ll see lol

This is the LONGEST thing i’ve written on here wow,, and the smuttiest

Warnings: teasing, oral, unprotected sex (pls this is my first time writing full smut be gentle lol)

Exhaustion is an odd result of pain. I didn’t think I was that tired after the burn. I certainly didn’t feel sleepy while Kirigan cleaned my shoulder and brushed his soft lips and sharp teeth along my neck to distract me from the pain. Why am I even thinking of that? Of the way his breath felt against my skin, the way his tongue soothed any bites he left against my skin. I breathe out flatly.

Stop thinking of him. Stop thinking of him in that context--that’s why he did it. He enjoys getting under people’s skin, that’s why he’s always insulting the way I see the world. My hand reaches to my neck, touching my skin where I can still feel his lips on my skin, tracing the faint marks I had seen in the bathroom mirror.

I should have asked the healer to get rid of them before they fully formed, but the thought of showing them to anyone was too embarrassing to bear. I force my hand away, dropping it onto my pillow.

He had acted so strange today, he had been so blunt. It was a tactic. He wants to be in my head and I’m giving him what he wants. I sigh, rolling over and pulling my duvet further up my body. It’s too hot for this. Ugh. I kick the duvet off of my legs, letting my nightgown wrinkle up my body. Strong hands could pull the fabric up in a similar, yet much more euphoric way.

No. Who’s thoughts are these? The fact that I picture the same hands that dabbed at my burn earlier today has me questioning my sanity. I can’t sleep like this. Kirigan wanted to be in my head and now he is. Damn him. I can’t stand him which means I can never have him.

Desire has nothing to do with tolerance. The thought leaves my face warm and stomach twisted.

I sit up sharply, sliding out of bed tiredly. I’ll get some air and everything will be fine. The moon will clear my mind.

The Little Palace is strangely twisting at night, all long shadows and yellow lantern light. I slip out of my room quickly, but my thoughts are not immediately banished with the change of scenery. I must be ill. Infection must have set in regardless of my efforts and the healer sealed it beneath my skin and now it’s impacting me. Fever. I’m delusional with fever.

“I didn’t take you the kind for a late night trist.”

His voice leaves the hairs on the back of my neck standing like soldiers at attention. I manifested him the same way people manifest the devil. “Air.” My defense is childish. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d get some air.”

The sound of even footsteps leaves me frozen in place. “What keeps someone like you awake?” It’s like he can read through me. “Thoughts of me?”

He can never know. “Obviously.”

My sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed, he lets out an almost humored breath. “Or perhaps it’s pain.”

The comment is so confusing I almost don’t realize he’s bringing up my shoulder injury. How had I let him see me so vulnerable? Why did he seem somewhat concerned in his own way?

“My shoulder’s perfectly fine.” Good. A normal direction for this conversation to head. “It took the Healer all of two minutes.”

The touch on my shoulder is so sudden I almost jump. Kirigan doesn’t shy away at that, fingers firmly brushing down the skin. “It feels the same.”

I could scream. His strange observation means nothing to me, but the implication is enough to drive me mad. The implication that he knows my skin well enough to be able to judge whether the healed skin feels different is sickening. I’m tired of this.

I turn on my heels, all of my tiredness and irritation twisting in me. “Even if it didn’t, it’s none of your concern.”

“I didn’t realize you were extra irritable when you’re tired.”

Every conversation with him leaves me feeling petulant. “I’m not tired.” I cross my arms, keep my expression set. “I just--I wanted to get some air.”

“Hm.” He takes a step forward, preparing to close the small distance I’d managed to create between us. “And why is that?”

The question leaves me irritated in an odd way. A flat way. There’s a narcissistic entitlement in that question. An entitlement to my thoughts. I shrug. “I hoped it’d make me tired.”

Kirigan draws his eyebrows together, curiosity and something resembling amusement playing at his expression. “If you’d like to be tired, I think I know a few ways to be of assistance.”

A faint, aggravating warmth comes to my face. Not only did my lie earn me a ridiculous innuendo, it’s also trapped me in a corner I cannot escape. Healing from the burn had left me pathetically drowsy. There’s no way he can’t see through me, a tired haze has to be visible on my face. My eyelids feel weighted and I’m too distracted by my deep longing for sleep to hold onto irritation.

“I’m sure I’ll manage on my own.” The words are not meant to be a challenge, just a way to dismiss him. I don’t think he takes them that way.

He draws his eyebrows together, eyes threatening to lose that curious quality. Kirigan steps forward, I step back blankly, desperate to keep enough distance to keep what’s left of my wits about me. He ignores my reaction, taking another step forward. I take another step back. My back touches the wall. I am a mouse and he’s an excited cat.

“You don’t have to,” his voice is too low, too intimate, “I’m not sure that’s something you want to understand.”

My chin raises just slightly, a silent protest. “Dependency is a fatal flaw.”

“So is desire,” his reply is much too quick. “Desire is worse, because one can resist dependency based on pride...but desire, that is something that one sacrifices for.”

Maybe if I was less tired I’d bother to interpret his words a little more. But all I can focus on is his tone--the quality of it. “You sound heavy.” My voice is as light as the night breeze I was craving moments ago. “But you always sound heavy.” It’s the wistful observation of someone slowly disappearing. “At least you’re pretty,” I muse, falling more and more distant by the second.

Something soft breaks across his features, his lips quirking. “Pretty?”

I rest my back against the wall comfortably, eyes shutting without permission. “I’m sure I’ll regret that comment in a moment.”

He stays silent, but his presence does not disappear. I can’t tell if I’m glad for it. The warm touch on my shoulder startles me out of my drowsy trance. Panic has me ready to jump off the wall, but Kirigan brushes his thumb up and down my shoulder. His touch sets any skin that comes in contact with him aflame. I shouldn’t find the gesture so comforting. My eyes flutter shut again, my body relaxing against the wall. When my protest dies out before it begins, Kirigan shifts closer. I’m confused, but too at peace to answer. Something velvety and warm brushes against my collar. Soft and warm and electric. He’s kissing my skin again.

My lips part in hopes of arguing, but when his teeth graze the skin he already marked earlier I’m gone. My eyes shut again, but this time it’s different. Pleasure and drowsiness clear me of all inhibitions as his touch becomes more and more assured. I let him test me, his mouth moving against any and all exposed skin. I don’t even stop him when I feel his hands graze the hem of my nightgown, wrinkling it the way I imagined earlier.

“Kirigan.” I need to find my strength, but what’s the point of strength when his touch leaves me so warm? The only acknowledgement of my protest he offers me is the lingering squeeze of my thigh before his long fingers begin to graze towards the inside of my thighs. I have no choice but to let his lips brush up my neck, his teeth grazing my skin the way they did earlier today. “Kirigan.” I try to sound firmer, but he destroys the rest of my sentence before I have the chance to get it out. His teeth nip the base of my neck, ruining my protest for a second time.

Maybe if I was less tired I’d be able to fight him off a little better, but I’m so drowsy I had trouble thinking before he started touching me. My eyes shut in both bliss and exhaustion. His thumb presses into my hip. Something in me stalls as his fingers brush the hem of my underwear--testing me, challenging me. I open my eyes on instinct, but he remains unbothered, slipping his thumb beneath the only fabric that divides us in order to better grip my hip.

I stiffen because of how badly I want to melt. This is bad. This is insane. We’re in a hallway in the middle of the night and he’s General Kirigan. Whatever attraction I feel is another tactic to manipulate me.

“We need to stop.” The command is weak, my voice as dry as my resolve.

He angles his head in order to regard me a little better. His expression is one of mock confusion as he smirks. Actually smirks. “Stop what?” False innocence drips from his voice as he leans towards me, expression amused as his lips near my own. “I haven’t even started yet.” My eyes widen, something that amuses him. “Y/n?”

I’m left on edge. I’m left wanting. My lips part flatly, but words feel so distant. “Yes?”

“What happened earlier?” His voice is the kind of sinful that’s meant to coax. Kirigan brushes his thumb across my shoulder, eyes watching mine cautiously. “How did you get burned?”

I push against the sultry quality of his voice. “I told you--an accident.”

“Hm.” His eyebrows draw together in a surprisingly soft way. I stare at him freely, but he ignores my gaze, eyes locked on my newly healed skin. Is he truly that concerned? “Whose accident?”

I swallow once. “My own.” He still isn’t looking at me. “I’m not exactly the most coordinated person, you’ve witnessed my clumsiness yourself.”

Kirigan is not convinced. Perhaps he will never fully buy my partial lie. His grip on me hardens. Restraint. I may not be able to win against his paranoia, but I might be able to distract him. Cautiously, I move one hand forward, touching the hand that’s on my shoulder. I hesitate. Touching him without prompting almost feels too intimate. I’m being ridiculous. I brush my fingers against the back of his palm, letting my touch trail up his forearm.

“Y/n.” My name borders on a warning.

I suppress a smile, playing into my sleepiness as I tilt my head to the side. “Yes?”

He doesn’t reply, expression tightening as my hand snares around his wrist, pulling it off my shoulder with more care than I thought myself capable of. The intensity of his gaze is enough to burn me. I turn my full attention to his hand. I’d never admit this out loud, but this isn’t the first time I’ve thought about how objectively attractive his hands are. I kiss each of his knuckles slowly, brushing my lips against his skin tentatively.

To my surprise, he allows my indulgence. I glance at him through my lashes. Kirigan’s eyes are shut, expression bordering on pained. “Kirigan?”

He opens his eyes but his expression does not ease. His other hand leaves my thigh, grabbing the low collar of my nightgown with such a fierce speed it takes me a second to realize what’s happening. He pulls me away from the wall in a way that borders on violent.

“I don’t know who you’re protecting, but I guarantee you they’re not worth it.” The words are acidic. He’s seething. “I grow tired of your resistance.”

If he hadn’t transformed into something so untamed, I might have had enough gall to tell him I grow tired of being toyed with. I say nothing, instead I take in the abrasiveness of his anger, the tension of his grip on the thin fabric that clothes me. I am unflinching in my assessment in the most tired way possible, eyes struggling not to shut and body desperate to rest, but even more desperate for him. His eyes stare into mine, searching for something I am too far gone to offer. He must realize my sleepiness is genuine because he soon drops his gaze, taking his time in analyzing the even rise and fall of my chest as well as the hint of cleavage his grip on my nightgown is exposing. Pure heat finds itself in my face, chest, and worst of all---core. His staring lacks any shame.

Kirigan parts his lips as if to speak but then instead takes a moment to lick them. The thought of his tongue in relation to lips only makes the burning in me worse. It’s practically an ache. A needy one.

“I grow weary of your lack of understanding.”

Understanding? “What is there to understand?”

His head angles itself to one side but he doesn’t meet my gaze. The hold he has on me loosens just enough so that his hold on me is no longer taut. That should not disappoint me the way it does. I wait patiently, ignoring the bundle of unexplained nerves in my stomach as best as I can. Something strange colors his features when he finally looks at me again, something almost vulnerable.

“I brought you here.” He sounds farther from me than ever. “I…” His exhale is gentle, but his expression is quick to harden. “Who are you so willing to protect?”

I must be really tired because his voice sounds like it borders on heart ache. If I didn’t fear Arthur’s safety I’d tell Kirigan everything if it meant his pain would dissipate. I never thought Kirigan’s potential pain would bother me, but now that I’ve seen him look stricken by something so weighted--now that I’ve seen the way he wears pain--I don’t want to be the one to give him that. I want to be the one to give him some kind of sanctuary. The thought leaves me with a desire to flea.

“Will you just believe me when I say it’s no one?” In a way that’s the truth. Arthur is not particularly significant unless you’re a young Grisha female with a desire for heart ache. “No one worth mentioning at least.”

He’s quick to retighten his hold on my nightgown, leaving the fabric taut and more of me exposed. “You being desperate to protect them makes them worth interest.” A different response than I expected.

My lips thin. “Only because it was a small accident. They don’t deserve to be punished over the briefest loss of focus.”

I take his silence as an indicator that he is considering my words. His free hand finds my shoulder as he pulls me even closer to him by the fabric he’s gripping. “And if I were to revoke the threat of punishment?” His voice is the definition of temptation, low and promising and coddling me with its sinfulness. I still as Kirigan leans forward so that his lips are practically on my ear. “Then would you tell me? If I released you from the binds of your nobility?” My lips part but I have no words prepared. Before I can think of what to say, his lips graze the side of my jaw before his teeth nip at the end of my ear. “Tell me just to humor me.”

The command doesn’t make sense to me, but from his lips it feels important. “You won’t hurt them for what happened?”

His voice seems rougher than before, “Would that make a difference?”

“It would make all the difference.” I don’t like the honesty of my words.

Kirigan allows one hand to trail down my waist--a gesture I consider obscenely intimate when paired with the soft brush of his lips on my collar. “I already know who.” His voice is a dark hum. “I was always going to know one way or another--but it’s good to know you would have told me.”

My stomach lurches, dread pouring into me like tar. Before fear can force me to take action, Kirigan begins to leave open mouth kisses from the top of my jaw to the bottom of my neck, taking his time to assault any spot of skin with his tongue that he wants. This reminds me too much of earlier--touches meant to distract from pain with the use of pleasure.

“Are you--” His mouth is now on my collar, threatening to destroy my question. “Are you going to hurt him?”

At that Kirigan straightens. The sudden lack of contact leaves me cold. I shouldn't be thinking of him. Of his touch. “I’m curious,” he draws out each syllable, delighting in my nerves, “Would you bear his punishment?”

I’m not sure. I hate that. I haven’t known Arthur for that long, and while he’s kind, he also seems to see all women as replaceable. That isn’t reason for him to endure Kirigan’s punishment but I don’t know him well enough to just blindly agree to that. I loathe myself for not being noble enough to take Arthur’s punishment instantly.

“What kind of punishment?”

Kirigan’s expression twists into a greedy smile. He pushes me back easily, pressing me into the wall with more confidence than ever. I’m silent in my confusion until he presses himself against me and I feel something hard and bulging press into where I’m neediest. I stifle a gasp of surprise and something similar to pleasure. “I’m sure I could think of something for you.” I’d care more about my confusion if hot need wasn’t flooding my thoughts and my body with undeniable desperation. “I haven’t even spoken to him.” I exhale, untrusting relief desperate to escape me. Kirigan is quick to lean forward, lips brushing my ear as he prepares to whisper. “I’m more likely to harm him because he has your favor than anything else.”

Warmth burns my face. “He doesn’t--he’s not exactly the one that holds my favor.”

The heat of his breath adds to my burning as he presses his bulge into my core again. “And who does?”

I’m not sure what he considers favor, but if it has anything to do with wanting he wins. But he can never know that. “There are some contenders, but no one yet.”

His hand moves off my hip and nears my throat. “Would it be too bold to assume I’m on the short list?”

He’s two steps away from taking me in an open hallway, I doubt he finds much bold. “Do you want to be?”

Kirigan’s hand tightens on my throat. “I’ve made it clear from the beginning what I want.” His words are lethal and each syllable has him restricting my airflow a little more. Something in me must be broken because my neediness only worsens. “I brought you here because I see all that you could be. Forget being a Saint, we could be gods.” The sentiment is so raw it’s almost harder to bear than his tight grip on my neck. He leans close again, his scent only adding to my budding lightheadedness. “Say the word, and I could have you praising me like I’m already a god.” My stomach knots in both nerves and insatiable hunger. “Though I’m the one that would be doing the worshipping.”

My resolve is shattered, leaving me broken and twisting. He releases his hold on my neck in order to move his hand beneath my chin. There is nothing gentle about the way he jerks my head forward, forcing me to look into his eyes. Something about the look he gives me has me melting. His eyes are searching for something in me.

He must find whatever he’s looking for because I feel his touch against my heat, fingers pressing against fabric. I bite my lip on instinct, suppressing the sound of my undoing. Kirigan’s eyes never leave mine as the hand on my chin moves to brush against my bottom lip.

“I can only give you what you want if you tell me what that is.”

He exhales slowly, pressing his thumb against my lip downwards. My mouth parts on instinct, something that he takes well. His thumb enters my mouth slowly, taking in my reaction as I taste his skin on my tongue. Kirigan pulls his thumb away from my tongue slowly, a thin string of saliva connecting him to my mouth. With one swift tug, his free hand pulls the only fabric separating him from where I want him most down my thighs. His expression reveals nothing as his thumb, still wet with my saliva, is pressed against my core. His touch teases my clit, just barely brushing where I need him most. The whine that escapes me is so desperate I’m ashamed I can’t help it.

“So wet already,” his appraisal is gentle, the praise whispered against my throat as his lips brush against my neck. “So wet, so needy that you’d let me take you in this hallway and I’ve hardly touched you.” His finger presses further into me. I let out another pathetic breath. “A pity, someone like you--so painfully under cared for.” I’m reduced to nothing by his words and touch. “What I’d give to undue you here, against the wall--I’d have you crying so loudly everyone would know that I’ve claimed you, that I’ve made you mine.” Before I can reflect on his words, he steps back, pulling my underwear back up as quickly as he yanked it down.

I let out an instinctual whine. My hand moves to his arm, grabbing him like he’s the only thing keeping me tethered to the earth. “What--”

Kirigan squeezes my hand, a predator’s smile on his lips. “I want to feel all of you,” his hand squeezes my hip, “I can’t exactly do that against a wall, dove of mine,” he leans forward, lips brushing against my jaw in a way that leaves me chilled and melting at the same time, “At least not the first time.”

His whisper forces my breathing to hitch, a fact that he notices with an amused look as his thumb brushes against my collar. Kirigan pulls me away from the wall easily. Even the causal touch feels electric against my skin.

The walk towards my room is tense, his hands never leaving me as if he’s aware of how necessary it is to keep me distracted to ward off my better sense. When we reach my door, Kirigan opens it like it’s his. Entitled. Typical.

I step into the room, his touch lingering on my arm. A brief shyness pushes itself into my chest. I had let Kirigan touch me in a public space and lead me back to my room. The door closes. I don’t turn.

Kirigan’s hand squeezes my shoulder. “Shy, now?” His question is teasing, rekindling the fire beneath my skin as he places an open mouth kiss on my neck. He plays with the thin strap of my nightgown, pushing it off my shoulder. He kisses down my neck, collarbone, and shoulder. My inhibitions are melted away again. “When your breathing stalls like that,” his whisper is enough to elicit a desperate shudder, “I am left desperate.”

He leans forward, mouth trailing down my chest, coming dangerously close to my breasts. The electric current of his touch is all consuming and addicting. I press my back into his chest. His hands are the opposite of shy, touching me everywhere except where I’m most desperate. Kirigan’s hand places itself between my thighs, using his thumb to tease my entrance. I let out a needy sound. And then he retracts his hand, grabbing my shoulders and turning me in one swift motion.

“Kirigan.”

His eyes are dark, clouded by something I don’t understand but am too aware that I reciprocate. “Tell me that I have your favor.” His words are taut, bordering on snapping. Kirigan’s grip on me tightens hard enough to bruise, an assertive need taking over him. “That you want me.”

Desire, pride, and rationality twist in my stomach, leaving me too distracted to form words. My gaze drops to the ground on instinct, something Kirigan clearly finds unacceptable because he’s quick to grab my chin and force my eyes to meet his.

I swallow once, courage withering beneath the look in his eyes. It’s as twisted as a spindling shadow, but the look is fierce admirational, appreciation so deep I could drown in it. It scares and consols me all at once. “I want you.” There’s something pained about such powerful emotion. I loathe and am empowered by it all at once. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything.” The words leave my throat scorching with their sincerity.

As soon as the words leave me, he’s closing the distance between us, the slightest exhale of tension leaving his lips before they meet mine, prepared to devour me. I reciprocate his actions on instinct alone. There is no hesitation, no space, and yet it is not enough. Not enough and yet I don’t know how to be closer. But Kirigan does. One of his hands cup my cheek, coaxing me towards him as if I could possibly have the will to leave him. He steps forward, guiding me to step back. I obey fluidly until I feel something hit the back of my legs. It’d startle me if I wasn’t so consumed by his touch.

His mouth begins to move away from my skin. I chase after him, desperate to keep him touching me. He stops me by placing a hand on my shoulder, a warning about my neediness. I pout, but as he studies me I pant. Maybe the excuse for air was a good idea. I don’t fight the uneasiness of my breathing as I hold Kirigan’s gaze. He regards me with a patience I consider unbearable, taking in the determined look in his eyes, my swollen lips, disheveled hair, and the top of my night gown that’s half falling off.

It’s in this moment I realize how much more vulnerable than him I am.

If Kirigan notices any shift in me, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he adjusts his hand on my cheek, his thumb brushing the hot skin gently. “You are everything.” His voice is cracking glass. “Everything that’s good, at least.”

Maybe he did notice my initial reaction because I am no longer certain that I am the one that’s most vulnerable. “You’re better than you think.” I only say this because it would only weigh on me more to stay silent. “I see it and you don’t want me to.”

His hand continues to stroke my cheek. “I want you to see all of me.” The heavy beating of my heart seems to stall in my chest. Kirigan drops his hand before grasping the hem of my nightgown. He pulls the fabric upwards easily, bundling the fabric above my hip. “I want you to…” He exhales flatly, pulling the fabric upwards even more. Nerves flood my stomach as he leans towards me, kissing down my jaw. “To know me,” he whispers against my throat.

I am nothing but uneven breaths as he mouth moves down my chest, stalling only once he’s reached my breasts. He pushes me forward easily, guiding me so that I’m laying on my bed. He’s quick to move over me, kissing up my neck as he adjusts so that I’m against the headboard.

When he pulls away again, I’m left pouting. He grins, fueled by my disappointment. “Don’t worry,” he breathes, fingers hooking around the waistband of my underwear before tugging it down my legs easily, “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

Being so exposed has my doubts flooding back, but Kirigan is quick to fight against my instincts in a way only he seems capable of. He squeezes the inside of my upper thigh before leaning down, pressing his mouth onto the skin his fingers just touched. His kisses here are meant to leave me even more desperate, each nip and fleeting pass of his tongue is lazy yet intentional. I am incapable of doing else besides letting out pathetic whines.

He ignores where I need him most, kissing up my thigh, across my lower stomach, and then down my other thigh. Kirigan continues the pattern across my skin, ignoring any pleas I swallow my pride to give. He is not rushed by my words or cries or the occasional desperate adjustment of my hips.

Kirigan lifts his head slightly, releasing my inner thigh with an obscene ‘pop’. “Patience.” His fingers trail up my thigh and over my core, teasing my entrance with his lithe fingers. “Unless you’re ready to beg?”

It’s a challenge, like everything else. The urge to give him my pride to satisfy the electric desire I’m not sure I’m capable of bearing. But then I note his tense hold on my thigh. A sign of restraint, of want.

“And if I want you to beg for me?” I don’t know where the words come from, but they charge the room with potential.

Something strange crosses his fingers before his lips tilt upwards in a dark way. “Would you like the strength of that? To have someone like me powerless before you?” My face warms. Kirigan leaves a lingering kiss on my thigh before he moves off the bed. I sigh at the loss of contact, but my tired neediness stalls at the sound of his belt coming undone. “I want to see you on your knees.” I sit up carelessly, desperate to obey him. I’m kneeling in front of him in an instant, taking in his length. The size of it has me gaping. “Open your mouth.”

I take the order more eagerly than I should, but I make no move to take him. This is just another challenge. I keep my eyes on his as I stick my tongue out before licking the bottom of his member all the way up to his tip. The sound he lets out is pure sin. I lick his tip slowly, each motion of my tongue is strategic as I finally place him in my mouth. I hollow my cheeks, moving up and down slowly.

The pace is not enough for him, he grips my hair from my scalp as he thrusts into my mouth. The motion is more powerful than I expected and I am left unable to breathe. My slight gag does the opposite of discourage him, he repeats the motion again and again, pushing himself into me until I can feel him in my throat.

The sounds he lets out are a chorus to me, but it’s not enough. I need more control, I need a way to make him beg. I raise a hand, wrapping it around the base that I cannot fit into my mouth. I stroke him once slowly, making a point as I try to push myself back in order to make him want me more.

He groans again. I make a point of pushing myself off of him. Precum protrudes his tip. I lick it off of him slowly. I lick up and down his member in the smallest way possible.

“Y/n,” the restraint in his voice fuels my teasing, “Tease me and you’ll still be overwhelmed by want when the sun rises.”

A pout tugs at my lips before I open my mouth again, taking Kirigan to my limit. He lets me set the pace of my bobs at first, but then he becomes desperate, holding me in place by the roots of my hair as he moans and thrusts into me without restraint. He ignores my choking as he continues until he throws his head back, letting out a quick praise of my name.

He finishes in my mouth and I swallow all he offers me greedly. I back off my knees slowly, throat burning as his member leaves my mouth. “On the bed.” He’s turned into something insatiable. “Now.”

I move back to my bed, laying in the same position as before. He takes his time approaching me. When he finally gets to me, he kisses my thighs easily. I let out a small breath before something that’s pure pleasure meets my core. His tongue laps upwards lazily, grazing my clit but not quite touching it. My hips thrust towards his face, but with hand he holds me down. A coil in my stomach continues to build as he angles himself more purposefully, tongue finally taking care of my clit. My gasps become less and less reasonable as he continues to lap at all that my body has to offer. The coil tightens, I see stars--and then, like cruelty personified, he pulls away. His absence leaves me ready to cry out.

My desperation only fuels Kirigan as he lines himself with my entrance. Concern twists my stomach as I consider how full my mouth felt when he was in me. I expect some level of warning, but he thrusts into me with no warning. I let out a pathetic cry, but that means nothing to him as he pulls out just to thrust into me with full force again.

“Only I can hurt you,” he demands, thrusting into me as I call out his name. My eyes water at the sensation of such fullness, pleasure and pain combining themselves in a way that leaves me incapable of thought. “Your tears,” he muses, one hand moving to wipe at a tear rolling down my cheek, “Are mine.”

His thrusts become more and more brutal, less and less even. Each movement of his body in mine leaves me begging for more and less at the same time. He continues until the coil in my stomach tenses to the point of breaking.

“Kirigan,” I manage, voice far away, “I’m going t--”

“I know,” he offers, “finish with me, dove.” His hand finds my throat, adding the slightest bit of restrained pressure. “And do not hold in your cries.”

Two more sharp thrusts have us both finishing, calling out for each other as we try to draw out the high of our orgasms together.

We stay intertwined like that for longer than we should, but then Kirigan stands. I envy his ability to do so. I don’t call for him even though I still don’t want to be alone here. A moment later, I hear him approach. I’m too drowsy to ask what he’s doing as a damp towel is wiped against my forehead and inner thighs.

When he’s finished cleaning me, some raw emotion settles in my chest. “Are you leaving?”

Kirigan hesitates. “Not if you don’t want me to.”

I roll over, the motion leaves my body aching. Kirigan accepts my invitation, crawling beneath my sheets and adjusting our bodies so that he can rest his hand on my back.

Tags: @luminous-99 @voyevoda-thejoy @voidmalfoy

@i-padfootblack-things

@all-art-is-quite-useless @buckverse @mandowh0re @benbarnes-supremacy

@we-love-our-bandz @fire-in-her-veinz @weirdowithnobeardo @bvudzsoo @kaque @ponyboys-sunsets @coldlilheart @granillx @dreamohlittledreamofme @sanna2020 @zaynzierulez

@ive-died-everday-waiting-for-you @xxaerynxx @ralesera @tea-effect

@tranquillitymoon

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone show #shadow and bone imagine #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan imagine #general kirigan x you #general kirigan x reader smut #grishaverse #grisha #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse imagine #grishaverse x you #the darkling #the darkling x reader #the darkling smut #the darkling x you #the darkling imagine

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molinaskies · 3 years

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Sonic's Next Emotional Arc: Skepticism and Doubt

IDW SPOILERS – Read up to the latest issue (41, at time of writing) or at least issue 40 before reading this.

I keep seeing arguments about how “Sonic and company don’t even seem impacted by the severe stakes of the Metal Virus and the pain they experienced.”

In the nicest way possible, that’s absolute cap. Here’s why:

When I first read Belle’s introduction in the Chao Races arc, I thought Sonic’s standoffish nature towards her (especially how he held his reservations through the following two issues) was out of character for him, but now, I think it makes complete sense (and is genius on the part of Evan Stanley).

Why?

Sonic was waiting for her to turn on him, just like how Mr. Tinker did.

I’ve spoken at length about Sonic’s emotional intelligence, so I would bet real-world money on the fact that Belle’s denial of her creator and her overall appearance clued Sonic in immediately – when he asked about who built her, he was referring to Tinker from the start.

Sonic’s friendly by nature, which is why he’s so chummy with her after Tails makes a case for her. The same idea goes for while they’re in battle, where Sonic’s attention and priorities are heavily shifted. Otherwise, however, notice how he’s crasser with her in his dialogue.

Note the distinct lack of apology from Sonic (by design; an explanation is not an apology and he knows it) and the elliptic pause.

Here, Sonic gives in rather begrudgingly, but his tone changes from actively defensive to teasing (a level down in Sonic’s defence mechanism – “a step above Eggman," I’ll call it), where he’s not comfortable really chatting with her but will riff off her, instead.

Once in the company of his friends, Sonic is more willing to keep her around, especially with someone else. Once again, when Sonic isn’t playing tour guide, his demeanor resets and… he’s confused; lost in thought until Amy requests his attention.

Here, note the realization within Sonic that Belle is here to stay, as well as his apology (with a distinct lack of an explanation – this is especially important).

Sonic finally accepts that Belle will be good for his friends and for their cause, but he doesn’t tell her (or anyone) his thoughts because 1) he senses that Belle 100% is in denial and isn’t ready to face certain facts (something Sonic, himself, is familiar with), and 2) he recognizes that he has no right to instill within Belle the same doubt he’s been living with since issue 1 (at an absolute minimum, too, given the history of this damn hedgehog).

Eggman, during the climax of the Metal Virus arc, has an amazing one-liner that sets up Sonic’s current emotional arc, in which Sonic won’t be so trusting of new faces and new situations. In the moment, Sonic tries to brush it off, but such little details – the retraction of his ears and his sweat – give his genuine discomfort away, because Eggman is right.

Sonic’s biggest desire of Eggman is for him to be a better person – something Sonic knows that Eggman is very seriously capable of, both through the existence of Mr. Tinker upon complete amnesia and by the historically significant grace periods that Eggman goes through to aid the greater good (Sonic Adventure 1 and 2, Sonic ’06, and Lost World, to name a few examples).

Side note: reread issue 23. Sonic is genuinely at his most desperate, and it's raw and painful and good. Easily a standout issue in the Metal Virus arc.

Sonic’s choice to spare Mr. Tinker is one he’s done nothing but defend whenever it’s been brought into the discussion, but in private, Sonic doubts his decision and feels immense guilt and responsibility for the losses his friends have seen and experienced to the Metal Virus.

Remember, too, that this comes nearly right after an approximate seven-month war that Sonic’s overzealousness (and subsequent defeat and capture) effectively started. We also see post-Metal Virus that Sonic seems significantly more protective of his friends compared to the start of the comic. He’s hyper-aware of his place in the world and in their lives, and he wants nothing more than to protect them – his somewhat-awkward, non-verbal communication of how much he adores them (Tails and Amy, especially).

Also, a very sweet detail here on the left: Sonic pushes Amy’s and Tails’ heads down to protect them from being waterboarded, and immediately, Amy goes to do the same for Sonic. Those two are so pure in their connection - whatever that means to you - and Amy is best girl (and y’all can @ me lol).

In a way, Sonic’s actions as of late have been the direct cause of a lot of very serious problems, and Sonic isn’t so ready to make another grave mistake. Belle was (and is) a living, walking, talking, and sentient reminder of what could be Sonic’s biggest regret and point of eternal conflict – the point of reflection in which he realized the absolute pain he put his loved ones through.

However, despite all of this, Sonic isn’t ready to give up hope. He’s changing his tactics up a bit, which shows his growing emotional maturity, but he still wants to believe that everyone can be good, that every problem can be solved, and that every person can be redeemed – including himself.

I want to share another excerpt from Japanese Sonic X. At the end of episode 38, after Sonic and Shadow save the planet from the falling ARK with seconds to spare before the point of no return and irreparable damage, this exchange between the president’s aid and the president’s driver (Sam Speed) occurs:

Sonic’s unparalleled optimism has been a core characteristic of his for a long time, and I really like how well the IDW comics have adhered to this fact while enabling Sonic to open up and be a teenager as it’s because of Sonic’s age and development that he experiences such waves of both optimism and doubt.

Sonic has never lived in a floating timeline. He’s grown and regressed and matured through every experience he’s had. He’s a thoughtful, dynamic, intelligent character who doesn’t take anything for granted. At least, not anymore.

(and people say nice things about him – LOL).

#long post #sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sth #sonic idw spoilers #sonic idw #emotional characterization #character analysis #mr tinker #eggman #dr eggman #dynamic characters #belle the tinkerer #miles prower #tails #Amy rose #ivo robotnik #peep the blog i do this kind of thing all the time :)

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arcanadreams · 3 years

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Water Fights with the OM Bros

it’s 90 degrees outside at my place and you know what that means!!! water fight headcanons because I refuse to go outside in the heat in real life asdhgskjdgks

once again i’m only doing the brothers bc i do not trust myself with the dateables just yet lmao

Lucifer:

Literally only agrees to join because you’re so excited about it.

“...If it makes you happy, MC,” are his exact words. Simp.

You did agree to make the game have no points though, to keep things from getting competitive. Both at the advice of Lucifer and because you knew he would not join if there was any chance he could lose. (Also because Satan is a menace but we’ll get to that later.)

When all the brothers are gathered he suggests everyone pairs up into teams.

“You’re only saying that so you can cozy with M-” Asmo tries to say before being sprayed in the face with water.

“My hair!” “Oh, look at that. I suppose the game has started,” Lucifer hides his water gun behind his legs, but he can’t hide the shit eating grin on his face.

He takes your hand with a “Come along, MC,” and leads you away as everyone splits up.

You two make a surprisingly good team for this sort of thing! He knows the gardens well and also knows where each of his brothers is likely to go. You are quite skilled water water guns and balloons. He’s basically the brains and you’re the brawn.

He snatches a few kisses now and then when you look back at him excitedly after smacking one of his brothers with a balloon. You’re just so cute!

When everyone is all tuckered out and goes off to shower and whatever, Lucifer hangs back with you to thank you for organizing everything. With a kiss to the back of your hand, he says, “I’ll admit, I was...skeptical, at first. But, as usual, you brought my brothers together in a way I haven’t seen in a long while. Thank you, MC.”

Mammon:

“I’m MC’s first man, so I get to team with them!” “You’re also literally my boyfriend, but okay hun.” Cue Mammon blushing beet red at the nickname and muttering at you not to call him that in front of his brothers. (He doesn’t mean it; he loves that they know you’re his and vice versa.)

Strategically, the two of you are the absolute worst. But that’s because you’re both just there to have fun!

And have fun you do! You actually get in quite a few fun chases with Levi! He’s probably the most into the water fight out of everyone, the three of you are just running around the gardens pelting each other with balloons. It’s super cute.

Mammon is absolutely the type to yell “I’ll avenge you, MC!” every single time you get sprayed.

Eventually, you and Mammon follow Levi’s advice and start hiding in places to catch some of the other brothers by surprise. Which would be fine if Mammon didn’t blush super hard and start grumbling because of how close together you were when kneeling behind the garden wall.

You roll your eyes and surge forward to kiss him. He’s so shocked he has no idea what to do with his hands at first. But, after a second of pause, his water gun falls to the ground with a clatter and he wraps his arms around you.

“Get a room,” Is all the two of you hear before Belphie dumps a whole ass bucket of water on your heads. Mammon growls and jumps up to get the youngest before Beel can scoop him up, but you grab his hand and stop him.

You’re laughing super hard, and the sun is shining on your hair. You almost look like you have a halo...Mammon gives up the chase before it even starts because his MC is simply ethereal.

“Mammon!” You smile brilliantly at him when you finally stop laughing. “I kissed you to keep you quiet! And then you managed to make even more noise!”

He just hugs you then so you can’t see his blushing face. Stupid lovely human making fun of him. (He likes it, though.)

Leviathan:

This boy is literally the MOST excited when you tell him your idea. He was in on it from the very start.

He actually helped you get all the supplies! He opens his Akuzon account right away and starts showing you what water guns would be best and picking out huge packs of balloons made specifically for being water grenades. (Definitely had looked all this stuff up before in case he found a LARPing buddy.)

You ask him how much Grimm all this stuff will cost and he tells you not to worry. “I’ll cover it!” “But, Levi-” He interrupts you with big blush on his face.

“L-Listen MC. You’re m-my Henry! And I know this will be fun, s-so...I’ll cover it.” You leap forward and give him a hug, triggering a surprised but equally happy screech.

Honestly he is so excited you proposed an idea like that of your own volition. Like...it just makes him feel like all the games and stuff he finds fun truly don’t bother you. You haven’t been lying; you genuinely are interested in the same things as him. It makes him feel so warm.

When everyone is still arriving, you grab one of your water guns and do that cool spinny thing. You know the thing. The cowboy gun spin. You’re like, “Hey Levi! Check this out!”

BAM. Boy is OUT. So red his face is steaming. That’s the hottest thing he has ever seen in his entire damn life. What the fuck, MC. He is basically frozen on the spot out of sheer overwhelmed-ness as how hot that was. You have to drag him away when the water fight starts. Totally worth staying up all night figuring out how to do the spin trick with a water gun.

Once the action gets going, you two are unstoppable. No one escapes the fight unscathed thanks to y’all. All those late night Call of Duty sessions trained you for this!!

Your favorite tactic is definitely camping, though. You and Levi would pick a spot and hide there, waiting for one of his brothers to come by, and then...ATTACK!

If it actually were a competition, you two would’ve won by a landslide. But honestly, Levi didn’t really keep track. He was having too much fun watching you. You were so mesmerizing when you were in the zone and so gorgeous when laughing as you gave him victory high fives after a successful ambush.

You let him take a picture of you posing all tough with your water gun and he makes it his DDD background immediately. And his lockscreen so you can protect his DDD from intruders.

Satan:

THIS ASSHOLE. THIS MAN IS THE REASON YOU MADE SURE THERE WAS NO COMPETITION.

If there was any sense of competition, Satan would’ve gone absolutely out of his mind to beat Lucifer. He would make sure to destroy that man’s dignity as thoroughly as possible.

So, for the sake of both him and the eldest brother, no points. No contest. He grumbles about it, but, much like said eldest brother, he still joins because he sees how happy the idea of a family water fight makes you.

Satan treats is almost as seriously as Levi does. EVEN THOUGH YOU MADE SURE IT WASN’T A COMPETITION, HE DAMN SURE STILL ACTS LIKE IT IS. UGH.

Literally pulls a map of the House of Lamentation’s gardens out of his back pocket??? And puts it on the side of the fountain?? And starts planning maneuvers on it with you??? He pulls a pen out of his SWIM TRUNK POCKETS to use to point with and emphasize his points. You just blink at him. This is your mans. Good lord.

Considering his expert knowledge of the layout of the entire surrounding area of HoL from that map, he actually knows of some secret passages the other brothers don’t even consider. He takes you to them so you can use them to spy on what Lucifer’s the other brothers’ strategies are.

It’s only once you’re creeping around the tunnels that he realizes something: none of his brothers know where you are. They can’t bother you...time to make out.

Grabs your attention with a quiet, “MC” and gives you a smooch. Soon enough he is backing you up against the wall. A water balloon you have tied to your belt pops against the rough brick, interrupting the two of you.

Satan disregards it and move to kiss you again, but you let out a gasp. He’s worried for you for a moment: did you scrape yourself? But when you turn to look at him, there’s a mischievous glint in your eye that he loves to see.

“My water broke!” You whisper-exclaim dramatically, covering your mouth in fake shock. Satan has to nuzzle his face in your neck to avoid laughing and filling the tunnel with the echo that would alert his brothers. The two of you basically just canoodle in the passages until the water fight is over LMAO

Asmodeus:

Pretty much just to show off how good he looks in a bathing suit to you and anyone else who happens to be lucky enough to witness his glory.

He’s not the best at water fights and ends up using you as a human shield sometimes adjgfkjshf

“Asmo! Stop hiding behind me!” “I am not letting Lucifer mess up my hair twice in one day, darling!”

He comments quite often on how hot you look. Both in your bathing suit and also when in the zone looking for victims to douse in watery fury. You look like an action hero, MC! Have you ever thought about becoming the next Bond? Asmo could definitely pull some hypnotic strings.~

Every time you successfully pull him out of the way of an oncoming water balloon or block a blast of water from hitting, he totally melts. He presses his back to your chest, swooning against you and batting his eyelashes.

“Oh, MC, my hero! My dashing knight in shining armor!” You scoff, but think it’s super cute. You even play into it sometimes and pick him up bridal style.

“The king is looking for you, my prince,” you say once as you lift him, and he actually blushes. Asmodeus, avatar of lust, blushes at a silly pet name. He was not expecting you to get so into the role!!! He loves it, though.

For the rest of the water fight the two of you are basically roleplaying a royal and his knight bodyguard. It is stupidly fun and the both of you have an absolute blast.

“Oh, MC, my darling knight! I have amazing news!” Asmo says after the fight ends. You’re drying his hair off with a towel. “Yes, my liege?”

“In exchange for your wonderful and dutiful protection, you have been given permission by the crown to court me! Isn’t that wonderful?” He smiles and you throw your head back in a laugh. You lean down and give him a nice, long kiss on the lips before pulling away. “That is absolutely splendid, your highness.”

Beelzebub:

He loves the idea because it’ll get his whole family together and he knows it. He has to carry Belphie out there but that’s normal.

He helped you and Levi plan!! Excited boy. You filled him in when he joined you and Levi for a game night. He totally volunteered to go get some extra supplies from some nearby stores for y’all. So cute.

Once everyone is actually fighting, this boy WILL NOT STOP BEING A HUMAN (demon?) SHIELD FOR YOU. LIKE NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU TELL HIM IT’S FINE, YOU’RE FINE, HE WILL NOT STOP.

“Babycakes, it’s okay. It’s water. It can’t hurt me.” “But I love you. I want you safe.” O H. O K A Y.

Someone call a doctor Beel just shot MC through the heart!!! He’s so genuine you just bright red and kiss his cheek because he deserve it.

“Well, I guess that’s settled then, huh?” He gives you a big Beel smile and nods, ruffling your hair affectionately.

Y’all get sprayed with water A LOT because your hungry boy is very big and hard to hide. Er, I should say HE gets sprayed a lot because he is a fantastic meat shield and you’re practically dry by the time the fight is over. He, on the other hand, is soaked to the bone.

He still insists on drying you off with a towel, though. The two of you dry each other off back in the twins’ room while Belphie dozes nearby in his bed.

You’re in the middle of drying his shoulders when he just starts talking. “That was really fun, MC. I’m really grateful for you. Ever since you’ve been here, things are always more fun. And you bring all my brother together. Thank you.”

You damn near burst into tears!!! Ahhhh!!! You sniffle and jump into his nap, wrapping your arms around him. “But MC, I’m still wet.” “I don’t care!! I’m giving you snuggles!!”

Belphegor:

Literally does not give a single fuck about a water fight until he realizes it lets him throw shit at Lucifer with absolutely zero consequences. Then he is all in.

Beel doesn’t even have to carry him around during the fight! Once he is outside and realizes all the shenanigans he can pull, he is perfectly content to grab you by the hand and be the one dragging you around, for once!

You two will probably team up with Satan and Beel at various points. Beel because he’s Beel, and Satan because he and Belphie absolutely set water balloon filled booby traps for Lucifer.

That’s his preferred strategy: set up a trap and wait in the bushes, watching for the target to approach.

He’s definitely the type to yell “Every man for himself!” if someone catches you guys hiding. Unlike his twin, he lets you get totally soaked while he runs away laughing. Dickweed.

You guys have a lot of fun, though!! Seeing Belphie excited is always a treat for you. And, though he doesn’t say anything about it, Belphie also thinks it’s a treat whenever you scheme with him. You don’t join in on his mischief often, so he always cherishes the times you do.

Eventually, after soaking Lucifer thoroughly, Belphie eventually gets a bit tired. You, however, want to keep the fun going. So, just as he begins to dose off in your hiding spot...you spray him. Right in the face.

He opens his eyes and sees you raising an eyebrow at him challengingly, giggling to yourself. He growls playfully and grabs his own water gun, quickly giving chase as you bolt.

Being a demon, he’s much quicker than you. But he lets you think you can escape for a few minutes before catching up to you and wrapping his arms around you from behind.

As you squirm and laugh in his embrace, he feels thankful he joined in on the fight, even if he was hesitant at first. After all, it led to this moment, where he can turn you around in his arms and give you a nice kiss as you melt against his chest.

#ta da!! another idea i've had for the longest time #posts #my writing #obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me x reader #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor

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dodo-begone · 3 years

Text

Sweet as Honey, Cold as Ice

Pairing: DSMP Minors (Tommy, Tubbo, Ranboo and Purpled) x Deceptively Sweet!Redaer

Request: I have request/idea feel free to ignore so minor reader is a total sweetheart like Niki type of sweet but they're super strong like techno type of strong so platonic with all of these obviously so my idea is with sam so this goes on while Tommy is trapped in the prison and dies and everyone is blaming sam and reader is like " if you say its Sam's fault one more its on SIGHT" and maybe they're the same with ranboo as well like maybe someone is blaming him or he's ender walking they go have a talk with dream kinda like quakity style and they're like "im gonna come here everyday if you don't stop"

Word count: 1k

Warning: mentions of manipulation

A/n: so this is done a bit differently from my normal stuff but I hope it’s still enjoyable!!

The announcement of a new arrival makes its rounds across the smp. Many wonder what type of person you are. Interests, what you looked like, what your lifestyle could be. You know, the usual stuff. One that came to the most opportunistic were less innocent. They wondered how easily they hopefully or might be able to use you, what manipulation tactics you might fall for. Though you can’t really think much on any of that when you get little to no information about someone. So they had to wait.

When you finally got to meet the damp members, a good majority of them at least, they all seemed to come to the same conclusion; you were so small. What a small thing. And you look so friendly, so approachable. Your interactions with them didn’t sway that thought either. If anything, it gave it further, sturdy foundation that they were more than happy to build off of. With such sweet actions and a cheery disposition, how could someone like you be anything but weak and innocent?

You and the boys have so much fun together just doing fun crap. Building, destroying, pranking, running around like a bunch of loonies. Just the basic fun stuff along with a few more personalized activities like making nukes or something.

Everything goes great the first few months you’re there as well. Very uneventful, which on the dsmp is a god damn blessing. The world is sunshine and rainbows, until it isn’t. One person literally fucks over the entire server, specifically you, and it’s like the whole world is ending.

It felt like a switch was flipped. Someone griefed your house while you were out helping Foolish. Saying you were pissed was an understatement; the smouldering remnants of your home sparked absolute rage within you. When you confronted the culprit about it, them laughing at you about it only fueled you further.

The only obvious thing to do was to get them back. In any way, shape or form. Destroying their builds? More than justifiable. Steal their items, specifically the most valuable ones in either personal value or general value? Well earned, if you think about it. They were liable to pay for the damage they caused. Persuading those closest to them to turn against the perpetrator? Not necessary but damn does it feel good for them to feel even a hint of their pain you experienced from them.

When the minors heard of what was going on from those around the server and yourself, they all had very different reactions.

Now Ranboo probably hasn’t experienced something like this because the closest thing he would have to that is Niki when she snapped. But he wasn’t there for that. And plus the people who are manipulative aren’t exactly as nice and sweet as you are. They’re a toxic sweet, one you could tell just from a quick interaction. He never thought you’d do anything like this. It just didn’t seem like you. Yet when it happens, he fears you. Specifically that side of you. He does not want to have that side sicked onto him. His reaction can be described simply has, “oh god that shit is so fucking scary. I would rather not. Can we not? That’d be great. Haha thank you-”. His was of avoiding that mess of whatever you were containing is to just politely ignore it. If he doesn’t think of it, it isn’t a problem. Right? Right?

Tommy is not exactly scared. It’s quite the opposite actually; he’s enamored with this new side you’ve shown. You’ve had this side of you this entire time? And you never told him about this?! Aw man, y’all’s relationship is going to be on a new fucking level after this. Now he doesn’t treat you like porcelain because he didn’t know how to treat someone who was so gentle. Now he can drag you along into his antics. You two can easily prank so many people because they think you’re so nice. You only snapped, that’s why you so different in that one situation. Oh how hilarious it was to see how oblivious they were about being played like a fiddle.

Saying that Tubbo experienced some whiplash when he found on about this new side of you would be an understatement. He was beyound shocked, gobsmacked about this new information. There’s no way that happened, right? A miss understanding or exaggeration. But when he brings this up to you, he’s forced to face the reality that you were not this sweet little angel he once thought you were. It was more than obvious that you could care for yourself. Look at what you’ve done to protect yourself already; you have a whole image of yourself to everyone else and kept the act going for so long that nobody would blame you for anything. They’d just think you were stressed or snapped, especially if you kept going as you were. Which was act mostly nice but let stuff slip every once in a while. At least he won’t have to worry about you as much! Spoiler alert, this doesn’t change his worry level at all.

The absolute pleasure that Purpled experiences when he finds this out about you is euphoric. He won’t have to worry about defending you as much now. Before he was absolutely ready to handle any remotely bad situation for you. Didn’t matter how big or small. Now though? Now he knew you could easily take care of things on your own. Which is great for somebody who can’t always defend their friends at the drop of a pin. Also another person who will bring you along for more dangerous antics. Though he’s way more thoughtful about what he brings you to do. Unlike Tommy. Out of all the boys, he’s the least likely to treat you differently. You’re just you, that’s all. Yes this new side was definitely unexpected but at the end of the day you’re his friend and this is just a part of you.

#dsmp x reader #mcyt x reader #tommy x reader #tubbo x reader #ranboo x reader #purpled x reader #x reader #dsmp shipping #mcyt shipping #c: tommy #c: tubbo #c: ranboo #c: purpled #dsmp!tommy #dsmp!tubbo #dsmp!purpled #dsmp!ranboo #dodo writing #tw: manipulation

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osakunt · 2 years

Text

Song translation - he gives you his love - you sleep with doubt. Things aren’t as they appear to be. He’s so honest, in contrast to me defects. But I’m still the bad man you can’t stop loving. [skips a few lines] he doesn’t understand the process on when or how to kiss you. While I find that weak spot that makes you squirm. You’d have to be reborn to see if you’d ever fall for him again. He doesn’t have the right tactic to rip me away from your chest. Let him ask how I won you over. He can right down my tricks on paper. It isn’t enough to have manners and be faithful when you think about the bad man that gives gives you goosebumps.

El Malo = The Bad Man

☢︎ Hanma x F!reader

☢︎ expect the unexpected. You won’t be the one thinking about the bad man. The bad man will be the one thinking about you

He once again found himself thinking about you. The delinquent who he thought he had long forgotten about when he got into his now relationship. The person he was with now was full on faithful to him. Always told him the things going on around her. Always happy to be around him no matter his background or previous encounters.

She’s like water. Crystal clear and pure. Pure hearted, always ready for the next adventure. Pretty easy to see through plus she never did hide anything from him.

Yet here he was thinking about you. If she hadn’t snapped him out from his thoughts, he would have continued to think about you for much longer than anyone can say.

Hanma threw a small smile her way when she throws her arms over his shoulders from behind. He was sitting in the couch of his flat, looking out the window that gave him a good view of the city.

“Whatcha thinking about ?” She snuggles up to his back, kissing his cheek.

It didn’t feel feel right and it honestly wasn’t the same. The way she snuggled into the side of his neck was the same motion you did but she just wasn’t you. That’s why it didn’t feel the same.

Across the city, you were looking out your office grand window. Looking down at the busy city from above. A jolt of energy ran down your spine giving you small chills before closing down the computer on you desk.

“Shuji why the fuck are you thinking about me again ?” You murmur to yourself. You knew. You just fucking knew that you were in his head. There was no reason for you to act upon your instincts. You just needed to go to where he was.

“Im going home. I packed up some left overs for you in the fridge. Make sure to eat, please” she puts on her coat and picks up her designer bag she herself had bought. Something that triggered a memory of you. He remembers you buying your first car.

He remembered you dragging him to the dealership. It took you a while to pick a car but when you did find one, your eyes sparkled the same way his new partners eyes sparkled when she looked at the bag.

Going back to the memory, the flashbacks of you shaking him out of excitement you push him into the front passenger seat. “Feel the leather Shuji. This is what you will feel every time we escape after doing a felony.”

He chuckles hearing your words. He couldn’t contradict you because he knew you meant it. After all you were Kisaki’s left hand. (left cause you know…Hanma’s the right 🥲)

It was hard for him to see you when you two had a passed. It had been over a year now and he was still thinking about you. After the break up, Kisaki made sure to separate the both of you thinking that it was for the best. Sadly for Hanma it made him miserable. So he sat down with Kisaki and demanded to let y’all work together again.

Things didn’t go his way. You denied the offer of working side by side because you knew that you were Hanma’s down fall. If you got in a close range to Hanma, he’d quickly turn your way and never look any where else.

After seeing her leave his place. Hanma made sure she was fully gone from the parking garage before he took his leave.

On your side, you were now making your way down the street to where you last had met each other. He was already there thinking about the last time you had pulled him in the ally at gun point. “Do you know how hard I try to keep you away ?! Get your shit together. Move on. It’s time !” You yelled furiously that evening under the rain.

Arriving to the ally, you make your presence known. You make your heels click louder under the dirty concrete. “How is it that you have such a nice girl by your side and you’re here looking for me ? Guess faithfulness and sincerity isn’t worth it if you still look for me. Especially at these hours.” You look at your wrist to see your watch light up with the time that said 11:50 pm.

“How did you know I was here ~ ?” He asks leaning on the wall. His hair falling to his face.

“Had a feeling” you walk fully into the ally. In front of him you smile seeing his eye focus on you. “You really need to move on, Shuji”

“And so do you…….. it’s hard not to think about you when we pretty much have spent all our lives together.”

“Hm. What will she say, when she finds out that you escape to look for me. I’m not a home wrecker yet here I am always knowing when you need me without you reaching out. It makes me feel dirty that I still associate myself with a man that is no longer anything of mine”

“I love her…… I think” out of no where Hanma blurts out world the remake you scrunch you your face, mocking him with your fake disgust for the word ‘love’ as he used it for someone else. Did it hurt you when he said that ? No. It made you mad that he said that while he was in front of you at a late hour looking for YOUR warmth.

“You think ? C’mon be real ! Tell me this, if you were to be born again- would you choose her ?” You ask sitting on a crate - lighting up a cigarette. It wasn’t in your nature to smoke but talking about this made you want to burn up your lungs.

“No. If I were to be reborn, I’d make sure to never lose you like I did”

“So you don’t love her”

“I do though”

“- Or so you think. She doesn’t even know when to kiss you, does she ? Or how to kiss you. That’s why you’re here, again….. with me. You think and reminisce so much about the time you and I had that she doesn’t even know how to rip me out from your heart. She doesn’t have the right tactics to make you kill your memories of me, Shuji. You don’t love her for shit”.

“Then do something about it ~” Hanma steps closer to you, taking the lit up roll from your hand. He take a puff of it then throws it to the ground then stepping on it.

Your hands go to his chin. Pulling him forward, towards you. Now inches from his lips, you lean in to peck his lips. “I’ll see you at my place tomorrow”

“How about we just go together right now” The male wraps an arm around your waist, leading you out the ally and taking the way to your our apartment. “In the end, I’ll always think about you then come back like some dog. I broke up with her before leaving my place. We can try this again….. that is if you want to”

Looking ahead at the empty street you shake your head not surprised at his actions. “I hate that I also end up coming back.”

“Then let’s make sure this is the last time we separate” He kisses you temple - interlocking your fingers with his.

“Can we fuck tonight too ? She was boring. I haven’t had sex in over a month. ”

Laughing at his complaints you shrug not wanting to fall for his charm. As much as you didn’t want to your cunt was already ready to once again receive him.

“I’ll take care of my poor baby as he should taken care of”

#Spotify #hanma x y/n #hanma x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #x fem!reader #toman x reader #tokyo revengers hanma #hanma shuji x reader #Hanma Shuji

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malleux · 3 years

Text

rest. | a

-> albedo x fem!reader | i headcanon albedo as about 18-19, so all characters are of age

-> slightly nsfw, slight angst

-> warnings: making out, groping, hickeys, a small argument

-> requested: yes

word count: 1073

a/n ; hi! this request has been sitting in my inbox for a long time because despite them being closed, this came in and i absolutely loved it. so i had to write it! thank you anon. i didn’t realize my kiss headcanons for albedo did such things to y’all but i appreciate it!

“You’re ridiculous.” Only a hum resounded from the scientist in front of you, and you huffed. “Albedo, I’m serious!”

“And I am too.” He looked up at you, crystalline eyes shimmering with slight annoyance. “I’ve just come near a breakthrough in my research of the hilichurls up here, there’s no way I can stop now. Not while I’m this close.”

Albedo was right- he was at the brink of finding out whatever he was trying to research with the monsters of Dragonspine, you didn’t really know the details, but it came at the cost of his health. And as much as you loved when Albedo found another topic he was passionate about, you hated that it came at the cost of his well-being.

Even though you weren’t his girlfriend or anything you still worried. You cared about him way more than you’d like to admit.

The blond boy bent down to open up a cabinet below one of his shelves when you stuck your foot out, kicking it closed before he could grab what he needed. Albedo closed his eyes and sighed, standing up and facing you.

“Y/N, I don’t understand what your problem is-“

“My problem, Al, is that I haven’t seen you eat in two days. Not even a little snack. Archons knows how long it’s been since you’ve actually slept. Every time you get fixated on something, you neglect yourself. That’s the problem.”

“Okay, well that’s not my problem. My problem now is getting this vial from here-“ Albedo bent down to open the cabinet again, but you stood in front of it. He looked up with a glare colder than the enchanted ice that covered parts of the mountain.

“Stand up.”

Albedo quirked an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Stand up and come here. We’re going to rest.”

“We’re not going to do anything.” He scoffed, “Now move out of my way. I’m not playing around, Y/N.”

“Neither am I.”

The alchemist stood once more, coming to just above eye level with you. He was only about two inches taller than you, but his intimidating aura seemed to make him a giant. It took everything in your willpower to not shrink beneath him, but you stood your ground and kept your chin high.

“Move.”

“Make me.”

Albedo’s lips smashed onto yours roughly, making you wince at the pressure his teeth created. Your heart lurched at the contact, but you pushed forward. This was only a tactic to get you to back down, after all.

Your hands wrapped around his neck and found purchase in the back of Albedo’s hair. His gripped tightly onto your waist. His fingers played with the hem of your shirt before sliding underneath it. You gasped at the feeling of his cold skin against yours and Albedo took the chance, sliding his tongue into your mouth. The warmth made you shiver slightly and he pulled you closer as if to further shield you from the frigid temperatures around you.

You pulled on the tufts of blond that tickled your fingers and Albedo groaned, his grip on you tightening. Without breaking the kiss, Albedo guided you towards the spare couch in his work area. Your knees buckled beneath you as they hit the furniture and he all but fell on top of you as you laid against the cushioning, his arms holding himself up above you before finding their place on your waist once more.

Soon, Albedo pulled away breathlessly. His eyes were darkened as they gazed into your own. “You moved.”

You quirked an eyebrow, slightly hurt that he pulled away for that. “So you just kissed me to get me out of the way so you could finish your research?”

He chuckled, a sound that sent butterflies careening through your stomach and chest. “Oh, darling, no. You’re my new exploration.”

Albedo captured your lips once more and instantly dipped his tongue back into your mouth, treating it as if it was the most interesting thing he had ever examined. It swirled around yours, leaving no crevice untouched. His hands travelled further up your shirt, eventually cupping your breasts through your bra. You shivered at the touch, but sighed into his mouth nonetheless.

Just when you were preparing to fight Albedo’s kisses for dominance once more, he pulled away. You unconsciously chased his lips as they left your own, ready to whine when you couldn’t get them again, but those plans were cut short when he nipped underneath your ear. Instead of a whine, you let out a soft moan that let Albedo know you enjoyed his affections.

Albedo smirked against your skin, choosing to nip and suck in the same area until he was positive that a mark would form. Then he traveled further down, planting wet kisses against every bit of skin he could before reaching your collarbone and marking you again.

You tilted your head back, giving him as much access as he wanted as your legs wrapped around his waist. Albedo pressed himself against you and squeezed your chest once more before lifting his head back up and kissing you again.

“You taste sweet.” He murmured against your lips, his nose brushing yours softly, “My new favorite flavor.”

“Mmm, is that so?” You hummed. “What else?”

“You have me wrapped around your finger, Y/N.”

“Really now?” You pulled away to look him in the eyes again. They were brighter now, full of adoration and love. “If that’s the case, will you take a nap with me for a few hours?”

“So you just kissed me so that you could make me rest?” Albedo teased, using your earlier words against you.

“No, but it’s a good tactic, right?” You giggled.

Albedo gazed at you for a moment longer with a soft smile adorning his pink cheeks before he sighed and stood up. “Scoot over. I’m the big spoon.”

You cheered and sat up, allowing the alchemist to lay on his back against the plush couch. You laid on top of him, your head placed against his chest. Albedo’s arms wrapped tightly around you and began gently rubbing your spine.

“A few hours won’t hurt, right?” You questioned, your eyes slowly falling shut as Albedo’s warmth lulled you to sleep.

You felt his lips press against the top of your head before Albedo leaned back and relaxed fully. “Right. Sweet dreams, Y/N. I love you.”

“I love you too, Albedo.”

#x reader #fanfiction #fic blog #writing #genshin impact #lay writes #genshin impact x reader #asks #anons #requests #albedo #albedo x reader #albedo genshin impact

742 notes · View notes

gohyuck · 3 years

Text

pairing: head knight!jeno x monarch!reader (reader has genitals attributed to those considered biologically female but no pronouns are actually used)

genre: fluff, mild angst (they discuss an oncoming battle they must prepare for), smut (it’s mostly smut)

word count: 6.5k

warnings & notes (nonsexual): mentions of war/battle, mentions of injuries retained from past skirmishes, jeno is as tall as you need him to be in order to rest your head against his chest without leaning down, it’s kind of cheesy tbh they are disgustingly head-over-heels in love with each other, also a peryton is a fantasy creature that’s essentially a stag + a bird, also i know y’all must be tired of royalty aus but i swear this is almost pwp (except there’s context so there’s plot) so give it a chance (if you’re legal) i guess

warnings & notes (sexual): oral (giving and receiving for both parties), fingering (reader receives), spit kink (lmao sorry), general messiness honestly, mild knife kink (no blood drawn, he just uses a dagger to tear apart clothing), gratuitous usage of the name ‘lionheart’, jeno has a big dick because i cannot stop myself from doing that to y’all for some reason, some choking

special thanks to @moonlit-jeno @domjaehyun @waithyuck for reading parts of it/all of it beforehand!

the soft hours of twilight have their holds on you, chilling you to your bones even as you pull the heavy fur cape tighter around your body. you should’ve pulled something over your thin nightgown, you suppose, something to act as a middle layer between silk and skin and peryton fur, but it’s too late for that. you’re already out on your private balcony, overlooking a kingdom you’d do anything to see the sun rise on day after day.

far, far past the outskirts of your humble realm, barely visible to your own eye, an unsettlingly large camp of soldiers is finishing setting up camp for the night. you watch as tiny, tiny orange pinpricks - no doubt the fires they’d set to make food, to alert you of their presence - begin to get snuffed out. finally, they sleep.

if you were any worse of a person, of a ruler, you would send your army after them now, hours before the battle is set. perhaps, if you were any less selfish, you would do so regardless of keeping your status as a good and just monarch. if you were any less selfish, you would shake awake the love of your life and hand him his cape after shedding it from your shoulders. you would tell him to rouse his men and women, to arm them to their teeth, and to fight for what is right using means that are entirely wrong.

as if privy to your thoughts, your head knight stirs in the too-large bed behind you. you turn just in time to see him sit up and twist his body left, right, left as he stretches to rid himself of sleep. it’s too late - or maybe too early - for either of you to be awake. maybe you should have stayed within his warm embrace rather than gotten out of bed to size up the army of the kingdom of crithage.

even now, you can’t help but strategize, at least on a basic level. crithagians are unused to the cold of your beautiful - but often frigid - ekoria. they won’t expect your people to fall upon them from the icy cliffs that surround their camp, nor will they be able to see over the oncoming blizzard your royal sky-reader has predicted. she has not been incorrect in many, many years. ekorians have, over the years, grown accustomed to heavy snows, among other weather phenomenon, so your army’s visual acuity is not to be questioned.

that, and your troops are in the hands of the best warrior ekoria has ever had.

jeno. your jeno. your lionheart. you rein your thoughts in just as he pulls open the balcony door, closing it behind him with a soft click as he steps over the threshold separating in from out and warm from cold. goosebumps rise across his bare flesh the moment his skin meets air, and you don’t hesitate to slide his cape off and thrust it towards him, knowing full well that his arms will provide more than enough heat for you. he fastens it with ease, seeming slightly amused at how you’d been using it as a blanket, and gently grabs ahold of your wrist before pulling you into his chest and wrapping an arm around your waist. with his other hand, he takes a corner of his cape and wraps it around you, leaving you enveloped in both his hot-to-touch skin and the comforting fur.

“they’re out in the valley, aren’t they?” he finally murmurs, leaning to place his mouth against your ear. jeno’s voice is thick and sleep-ridden, still raspy in a way that settles around you, inside you, within you. you lean back slightly, raising a cold hand to rest against the tattoo of a lion that adorns his left pectoral, mane stretching up to his collarbone and encroaching on his bicep. the lion has a scar on its right cheek. you pull away more, eyes landing on the thin discolored line underneath your lover’s same eye.

it had been a longsword, meant to slash across your throat. jeno, with the speed of a star falling from grace and enough adrenaline to fuel a hundred men, had leapt across you in order to take it across the face. for crown and for country, bard’s songs later regaled of him. for you, he’d whispered to you that same night as you’d stitched him up, using the threading tactics you’d learned from the castle medic as a child. for you. always for you.

“my love?” jeno prods, and you realize you haven’t given his rhetorical question any acknowledgement. you hum, meeting his eyes with your own, and watch as he allows one corner of his mouth to turn up.

“they only just put out their fires.” you finally respond, moving to be against his chest again. you rest your head against the intricate ink against jeno’s skin, finally letting out a breath of what one might consider worry. the air that leaves your lungs manifests into wisps out in the cold world that surrounds you. your lionheart pulls you ever closer.

“you need not stress.” he says simply, and an outsider to your relationship would see no cohesion between your statement and his. still, you know precisely what jeno means, why he’s said what he’s said. you turn, pressing your lips against the lion’s forehead. above you, your own lion brushes his lips against your temple.

“i have an army, a kingdom, even, to worry about, and yet i only fear tomorrow for whatever outcome befalls one man.” you whisper, and even you are surprised to find tears catching in your throat. you do not cry easily, not when you know firsthand how cruel the world can be.

you only reign because your parents no longer breathe.

tomorrow’s battle could easily bleed into next year’s war, and while your kingdom is prepared for such a thing, your heart may not be. your people are not belligerent, and neither are you. crithage had been the one to throw the first stone, had sent word that if you refused to relinquish your throne and bow your head, they would aim the first arrow, draw the first blood. no tears had been shed then, not even when you’d paced around your bedchambers, reading and rereading the note signed with blood red ink until jeno had physically pulled it out of your tight grasp. you hadn’t cried, not even when he’d said that he was willing to die if it meant keeping crithage out of ekoria, out of the kingdom you’d both built from ground up after the war that had taken your parents, out of the home you’d created together.

“wherever you take us, i will follow. wherever you need me, i will lead.” he’d murmured the words against the lobe of your ear, standing beside and slightly behind your throne as you’d written out your reply to crithage in a room full of your advisors. nobody else had moved a muscle then, not even as you closed the envelope with hot wax and the royal seal.

you’d sent back a much, much shorter letter than their own in response.

a time and date for battle. nothing more and nothing less.

that had been so many months ago, so far away that the concept of time dissipates when you attempt to organize it in your harried mind. with a hostile army on your doorstep, everything suddenly feels far more real than it has before. your people have been evacuated, your troops have been trained. your lionheart is unafraid to the world, standing tall and proud at your side as he always has.

a sigh that starts from deep in jeno’s chest brings you back to the present. tomorrow is it, you’re reminded. crithage has seiged almost every other state between themselves and your beloved ekoria. if they get to you, they’ll have your head, raised high on a stake they’ll erect outside of the gates they’ll install to the place you call home. if they get to you, it means they’ll have gotten through jeno.

you can’t live in a world without him. it’s a dangerous attachment for a ruler to have, you’re well aware. if other kingdoms find out that your weakness is a person, one that lives and breathes, you’re not likely to ever see your love again.

it’s little comfort that jeno can’t live in a world without you, either.

“i worry about not being here, at the castle, to protect you,” he mumbles into your hair. “i know that you are perfectly capable, and that you’ll have your own faction of our knights with you, but i- it feels as if i’m about to open my chest and leave my naked heart unguarded, right there for any arrows to pierce.”

jeno’s confession is simple, beautiful in the way the most ornate of daggers are: that is, you feel as if he’s just dragged a sharp edge down the length of your sternum, taking you apart piece by piece. his words cage you in, force you deeper into your own head in a way you can’t afford, not right now.

“eloquent,” you hum, unable to resist teasing him even as the moment does not call for it. it’s to save yourself from your heavily beating heart. “it isn’t too late to make you my poet laureate, you know. no need to wield a sword tomorrow then.”

“and who would be your head knight then, hm? the current laureate? you want renjun to lead the charge against the crithagians? to be your lionheart?” your lover draws back to ensure that you can see his eyes, glimmering with mirth. renjun is an able man, and one of your best friends, but he is not the warrior jeno is.

nobody is the warrior that jeno is.

“such a foolish thing to say,” you smile up at him, lips folding from joking to earnest within moments. the merriment fades a little from jeno’s eyes at recognizing the change in your expressions. “you’re my only lionheart. always have been and always will be, even when you’re too old and gray and slow to be my head knight.”

“someone seems confident of that happening.” he says quietly, raising the hand at your waist to come up and rest over your own hand that lies against his chest. you swallow, your own spit feeling too heavy for you to stomach, your throat dry and scratchy.

“who else can have confidence of a victory rather than a monarch?” you ask, a smile that isn’t quite sad - but isn’t quite self-assured either - resting on your lips. jeno raises your hand to his lips, pressing one, two, three chaste kisses to the back and then repeating the pattern against your palm. he does not let go.

the two of you stand there for a stolen moment. you lay your head back against his chest, listening to the thundering of his heartbeat below the ink and skin and muscle and bone. he is real, and he is here.

he is real. he is here.

“the monarch’s lionheart, of course,” he murmurs, finally dropping your hand to reach back and push open the balcony door. “we only have four more strokes of time until i must go, my love. is this truly how you want to spend it?”

it’s evident that jeno no longer wants to mull over the what-ifs, not when he prefers living in the present more than anyone you’ve ever known. unsurprising, you suppose, for someone whose livelihood involves strategizing away his own mortality. you allow him to pull you back into your bedroom, immediately more comfortable when the door closes behind you, keeping you in with the body heat of your lover and the warmth of the crackling fire on the hearth in the corner of your room. jeno sheds the cape, draping it over the nearest chair, before bringing you back to his chest by placing his large hands against your waist.

it takes feeling his fingers against your skin through the thin silk of your slip to remember that jeno has nothing on. he’s always preferred to sleep naked, unlike you. though you hardly have any undergarments on, you at least wear a sheer gown most nights.

you’d ridden him passionately before bed, tiring both of you out in order to get any semblance of sleep. as your lionheart pulls you flush against him, though, it’s difficult to avoid the way his cock hardens against your hip once more. you want to quip about how jeno’s insatiable, but he trails a hand up, up over your body to swipe a thumb over one of your hardened nipples, and you can’t help the sigh that escapes through your prettily parted lips.

“will you get on the bed for me, love?” jeno’s voice is smoother now that he’s more awake, though you can’t help but miss the low growl that had come with the earlier rasp. he may be asking you a question, but you know that it’s an order in disguise. wordlessly, you step back, back, back until the wood of your bedframe presses against the soft plushness of the back of your thighs. jeno has not moved, choosing to stay put and appraise you instead. his eyes are hooded now, and as his gaze trails from your neck - he’d marked it up earlier, the kiss-bitten bruises not yet having faded from your skin - down to the curve of your chest, over the expanse of your thighs, he can’t help but reach one hand down to his dick, swiping two fingers over its head to collect his precum on his skin.

jeno says nothing else, makes no other move. it’s to give you an illusion of control, you suppose. not that you need one.

“should i rid myself of this, lionheart?” you ask, the words coming out breathier than intended. the nightgown leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination, and you’re sure he can even see the slick wetness that’s pooling against your inner thighs. jeno adores seeing your body more than anything, but the gown does not inhibit that.

it’s no surprise, then, when he shakes his head no, instead finally moving to stand at the edge of the bed, slotting himself between your thighs as they naturally move apart to fit him in. his clean hand slides up under your gown, resting just above your cunt, as he raises his other hand to your face.

“lie back, and open.” jeno states, no air of leniency about him anymore. you oblige, and your love leans over you, his dark gaze centered on your parted lips.

he lays his two precum-coated fingertips against your tongue, pressing in and then down and revelling when you don’t gag but instead run your tongue over his fingers, cleaning them off for him. you haven’t gagged in a long time, your reflexes getting used to him in the way the rest of you is. when he withdraws his hand, your mouth stays open, and jeno can’t help himself as he leans over you and, after gathering it in his own mouth for a moment, allows his own spit to fall from his own tongue and onto yours.

your eyes go wide at the action, and you know that he notices it even as he does not acknowledge it. even so, you don’t miss the smirk that crosses his face upon hearing your breath hitch. jeno has you in his palm.

satisfied, he stands, and you close your mouth and swallow a part of him with a part of you. jeno’s no longer looking at your face, but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when he’s ruching up your nightgown with growing hunger, not when he’s kneeling on the stone ground just to make himself eye-level with your pretty, pretty pussy.

“i took you hardly any time ago,” he murmurs, breath hot against your skin as his mouth nears where you so desperately need him. “and yet here you are, laid open once more, all for me. only for me.”

“always you, jeno, please - ” you can’t get any more words out, the air being pulled out of you as he dives in and circles your clit with his tongue, bringing his two spit-soaked fingers up to press into you with almost no resistance. your reaction is instantaneous, walls clenching like a vice around his fingers as he lays a filthy kiss against your bundle of nerves, hips jumping up only to be kept down by jeno’s other hand, pressing down against the bottom of your stomach.

“patience.” he pulls off of your clit just to growl the word out against the skin of your inner thigh, and the wet heat of his mouth directly against your flesh has you practically gasping out. when jeno sinks his teeth into your thigh as he’s often wont to do, you let out a full-bodied whine, the kind that starts in the back of your throat and rises up through the inner column of your neck, meant only for your lover’s ears. jeno laves his tongue over the marks he’s just created, as if to wash the pleasurable pain from your body.

he does not reattach his mouth to your core, choosing instead to fall back and watch, eyes trained, as he scissors you open. with hardly any warning rather than his gaze jumping up to meet your own momentarily, jeno presses his thumb into your clit, using your slick wetness to eliminate any raw friction as he rubs slow circles against your nerve endings. he’s never failed to bring you to the edge with ease, and now is no different. you’d be embarrassed at how easily you fall apart just from his simple simultaneous motions, in and on you, but it’s jeno, and he knows your body maybe even better than he knows his own.

keening, a loud, gasping wail, falls from your lips only for jeno to rise from his place in between your thighs and swallow your sounds with his open mouth, his clean hand coming up to cage you in against your sheets. the way you raise your arms to loop them around his neck is akin to the way a drowning man would grab on to a lifeline, and once he rises you pull him back into a longer, filthier kiss, where your teeth click against his and his tongue opens up your mouth the same way it feels like his touch opens up your body.

you feel as if you’re being flayed, as if hellfire is the only thing comparable to the heat against your skin. jeno steps closer, just by the tiniest bit, and you feel his hand - the one shining with your arousal - brush past your hip before he uses it to wet his cock with one, two, three firm strokes. copious amounts of precum arise from the tip before being pulled down against his flesh with expert downstrokes. your mouth waters as you watch.

“my mouth, lionheart, please?” you finally gain the courage to ask what is on your mind, sitting up on your elbows as you begin to slowly find your strength. your love raises an eyebrow, and not without reason: jeno is a big man, making even you - a literal monarch - feel small at times, and this does not end with his personality or his person: you have never been able to take all of him into your mouth. the ache borders on painful, frankly, and jeno himself refuses to harm you in that way.

“this, now, is about you.” he responds, and your heart cracks as you register that as a ‘no’. still, you speak again. you need him in your mouth, suddenly. it isn’t just a want. something has to anchor you to the here and now, it may as well be the head of his cock, heavy against your tongue.

“what is about me is about you as well,” you respond, and before he can lay his refusal down out flat, you slide onto the floor - warmer than expected - and tuck your heels behind your bare ass. “i need this. please.”

you’re directly in front of him now, face parallel to his strong thighs. jeno strokes up, squeezes tighter just below his frenulum, and you watch, struck, as precum beads at the tip and then splits into two streams, half sliding down his hard dick and the other slowly-but-surely falling to the ground, hardly a quarter of a step from one of your knees.

“give me your hand, then,” your knight murmurs from above you, drawing your gaze from his leaking cock up past the dainty curve of his lip to his hard eyes. “now.”

when you raise your hand up, you only put it up limply, unsure of what he means to do with the limb he’s asked for. your eyes must be swimming with questions, because jeno gives you a hint of a sweet, reassuring smile before allowing his expression to become stoic again… right before he grasps your given hand and straightens it out, gentler than expected from such a great warrior but harsher than he truly ever treats you.

he’s passionate. this demonstrates it.

before you can react, your body following your hand up off of your heels, though only slightly, as he yanks up your hand, jeno leans down and licks up your hand, from the bottom of your palm to the top, all while maintaining eye contact with you. he lets go, though you keep your hand raised, your gaze obviously dumbfounded.

“a dry hand would rub me raw,” he explains, though the smirk that’s tugging at one corner of his mouth shows that he finds your wide-eyed expression at least mildly amusing. “we do not want that, do we?”

it’s amazing how easily he can get you under his thumb when you give out orders that hold his life in the balance on a day-to-day basis. maybe that’s why he finds taking charge in private so easy. maybe it’s his way of evening your dynamic out. even now, as he asks you an innocent question with no hidden meaning or reaction, you find yourself shaking your head along enthusiastically. no, of course you don’t want to rub him raw. of course you and him don’t want that.

you raise the hand now deemed ‘not dry’ up as jeno watches, finally, finally wrapping your hand around it. your thumb and middle finger do not meet, no matter how tight you squeeze. your lover lets out a fulfilled groan at finally feeling a touch other than his own on his hard cock, and it’s a beautiful sound. you want more of it. you want more of him.

as if mesmerized, you lean closer, darting out your tongue to lick experimentally at his slit. he holds his breath, a large hand coming to rest lightly against the back of your head and base of your skull, waiting. you take this as a sign to stretch your lips wider, engulfing the entire tip of his cock in your hot mouth. his grip tightens in your hair, and, in return, you clench around nothing.

as you struggle to take more of jeno in your mouth, you do your best to stroke the rest of his cock with a tight enough grip to make him feel everything, but not tight to the point where you’re hurting him. regardless of how little you can take on your tongue - not your fault, by any means - jeno seems happy, barely able to stop himself from bucking up into the back of your throat. at this point, you’re essentially just warming his cock, so you pull off with a slick pop to look at him with slightly watery eyes. a string of precum and saliva connects your bottom lip and his tip, and when it breaks, you’re acutely aware of the mixture dripping down your chin and onto your nightgown. it’s no matter.

jeno’s thumb runs over your scalp, just above the bottom of your skull. you close your eyes momentarily to take in a deep breath.

“you can force yourself down my throat, you know,” your voice is raspy when you speak, eyes fluttering open almost drearily. “i’m not too delicate for it.”

there’s something simultaneously raw and pure about the way you speak, and jeno recognizes that your headspace has changed, just a little. your need truly is all-encompassing now. he must tread more delicately than usual.

there’s so much love, so much adoration in your wide-eyed gaze. he only wishes to return it with the same intensity and double the care.

“i know, love,” jeno responds, finally moving his hand in order to place two fingers under your chin. he tilts your face up, taking note of the way your eyes run over his tattoo before looking at his chin, then his jaw, then his nose, then his forehead, until, finally, you land on his eyes. you’re a tad bit unfocused, full of need, but that’s okay. you’ll always come back to him. he continues speaking. “you’re so strong. always so strong for me. that’s why you deserve to be rewarded, yes?”

“rewarded?” you’re confused, to say the least, though you do not dislike the direction jeno is suddenly moving towards. he only smiles, gentle and kind and good and yours. all yours.

“on the bed, (name).” he tilts his own head, jutting his chin towards the bed you’d slid off of earlier. you don’t hesitate to follow, pushing yourself up onto your feet and all but scrambling backwards to be seated against the soft mattress. the blankets are all haphazard and the pillows aren’t straight, but that’s the least of your worries right now. jeno gives no other orders, only stepping closer and, without warning, winding his arms underneath your thighs and propelling you backwards, causing you to land, back flat, in the center of your bed.

it had always felt inescapably large when you’d slept in it alone. now, it feels welcoming. safe.

“you’re ready for me, yes?” the tone of voice jeno uses is soft, even as his rough palms push apart your thighs. you nod, murmuring a small ‘yes’ once you realize he’s waiting for you to verbalize your thoughts. this is all jeno needs to climb onto the bed and move in between your spread legs, settling back on his calves as his hands smooth over your hip bones and waist. it’s evident that he’s bent on taking his time with you tonight, likely under the illusion that that is what you want.

it is not what you want. it is most definitely not what you need.

“i need you within me, lionheart,” one of your hands clutches at the sheets beneath you while you stretch the other towards your lover, imploring. “soon. now. please.”

“absolutely impatient,” jeno only chuckles in return, drawing an indignant whine forth from the base of your throat. he looks over your barely covered body once more before finally - almost in slowed motions as if to tease you further - rising up onto his knees. his hands stop moving against your skin, finally circling around the soft meat of your upper thighs. swiftly and fluidly, jeno pulls your body towards his, wrapping your legs around his own waist. his wet cock lies heavy against your pelvis, leaving slick precum against the apex of your thighs and the bottom of your stomach. he smirks. “is this what you wanted?”

the motion of being pulled into your knight had forced the air from your lungs in a surprised yelp, and the feeling of his warm skin - he’s always supplied so much heat, it baffles you to no end - against your own momentarily blanks your mind. jeno repeats his question twice, cocky grin growing with each utterance, before you nod vigorously and sputter out something vaguely affirmative. yes. yes, this is exactly what you wanted, exactly what you want.

you’ve been growing steadily wetter the longer your foreplay had drawn out, but jeno, ever-caring, still pulls back - his cock sliding against your thigh has you moaning - to slip two thick fingers into you, adding a third when he’s absolutely sure that you can take it. in no time at all, you’re grinding your clit against his rough palm, the friction absolutely heavenly. jeno makes no move to stop you, only gently forcing his fingers in deeper.

a fourth finger is added just as your abused clit can’t take anymore, and you spasm on his hand as you fall past the point of no return. your second orgasm of the night washes over you, and you can’t help the muted but harried gasps you let out as your hips buck up, driving your head back into the mattress. jeno draws his fingers out slowly, licking your essence off of them with practiced ease. once your body has calmed down, you can only let out a small whimper, still basking in the intensity you’ve just experienced.

jeno knows your limit, and knows damn well that you haven’t reached it yet. it’s because of this that, even as your walls are still clenching around nothing due to aftershocks that wrack your body, he places the fat head of his cock against your hole and slowly but surely slides in. the hands on your thighs move up to wrap around the sides of your waist, and his grip is bruising as he pushes deeper and deeper. even as he goes at a snail’s pace, you feel as if you’re being pulled apart only to be pieced back together again. you hold your breath.

jeno is halfway in when he realizes you still aren’t quite wet enough. he shifts slightly, carefully moving one of your legs up just a little bit higher, before swiping over your raw clit with a thumb he’s wetted with his own tongue. a moan flies forth from your mouth immediately, and a gush of wetness coats jeno’s cock anew as he circles over your bud with abandon. he’s finally free to surge forward and bury himself within your warm walls without fear of repercussions on your own body… so he does. the breath you’d been holding in is punched out of you, replaced with an honest-to-god wail. tears bud at the corners of your eyes at the stretch, falling as he pulls out almost entirely and slams into you again.

jeno does everything in his life in order to live up to the name you’ve given him: lionheart. he is just and loyal and thoughtful as an advisor, and analytical and fearsome and ruthless as a warrior. sex is where both sides of him meet. it is where he is not just the kingdom’s bravest knight, or the crown’s right-hand man. it is where he is your lionheart, and yours alone, where your souls intertwine at the place your bodies meet.

he notices how your hands come up to reach for him, leaning down so you can place one hand against his heart - against his tattoo - and throw the other one over his other shoulder. jeno’s nose is almost touching yours, though your bodies shift continuously as he keeps drawing back and driving his hips into yours with force.

he never ceases to make you feel full.

your walls grip his cock tightly, amplifying every movement jeno indulges you in. the slide is slick and wet and perfect, but it is not easy. the head of his dick catches on your clenched walls every time he pulls out just to slam back in, forcing you to feel him with everything you have. it’s exactly what you want.

he slows down his thrusting for a moment as he moves forward slightly, leaning closer still as he places one forearm against your head and raises his other hand to fondle your chest over your sheer clothing. somehow, this is no longer enough for you. jeno’s cock is fully sheathed within you as he swipes a thumb over one of your nipples, and the feeling of his skin pushing the cloth against one of your most sensitive areas has you shuddering in a way that causes you to squeeze even tighter around him. his hips stutter slightly, driving him impossibly deeper into you.

“jeno,” you rasp out, tongue heavy and dry. “my pillow. beneath my pillow.”

his eyes go wide as he processes what you’ve just said, his shallow thrusts slowing down. jeno gulps audibly.

“your- love, your dagger?”

“need you to touch me.” you respond, holding his gaze and watching it clear up from confused to comprehending you entirely. he pushes himself up from his forearm to his hand, sliding out of you in the same movement. you whine sadly at the loss of contact, but jeno mutters a good-natured ‘be quiet’ almost immediately.

“you know,” he starts, voice teasing, even as he pulls your dagger - black steel, quillions and hilt encrusted with blue jewels, black tempered glass at the pommel - out from beneath your pillow using the hand that had been fondling you earlier. he moves back down to his prior position, and your breath hitches as he presses the apex of the knife against the collar of your nightgown. “i’m already touching you.”

“more,” you moan out, the end of your word coming out almost breathlessly. one of your hands slides against his tattoo once more, as if feeling the lion will make it roar to life. “touch me more.”

jeno chuckles, albeit darker than he had been earlier, and digs the dagger into the cloth in front of it without any further ado. you hold your breath willfully this time, not wanting to actually nick yourself on the blade, as he moves down your body, cutting the sheer gown open down its direct center. your lionheart dots his lips against your flesh in a trail in his wake, scraping his teeth against your skin as he sees fit.

he leaves a quick, but filthy, kiss against your clit for good measure, eyes lighting up as you attempt to close your legs around his head on impulse, only to have them pushed apart even farther than before by his strong hands. once he gets to the hem of the slip, he throws your dagger somewhere on the stone floor - neither of you pay any heed to where it clatters - and rips it apart with his bare hands, hardly able to bear not feeling you around him for much longer.

before you can do anything or say anything or even think anything at all, your lover surges forward and presses himself back into you with a grunt that sounds almost like a growl. his hands knead at your thighs as he finds his rhythm with ease, pounding into you with practice as if you’re an art medium and he’s a skilled master. he’s everywhere, all around you and inside of you and in the air and in your skin, and it’s all you’ve ever wanted.

“touching - ha - touching you enough now?” he asks, resolve crumbling bit by bit as he fights to keep himself from tumbling over the cliff’s edge before you do. you can’t dignify him with a response, unable to do anything but claw at his back and pin yourself further against his chest as if it’ll make even more room for you in his heart than there already is. he doesn’t need a response, anyways. jeno already knows.

he knows just how close you are, too. just as close as he is. it’s because of this that jeno moves a hand up to curl around your throat just as he circles your clit with two fingers of the other hand, continuing to fuck into you at the same rate as best he can. with a sharp cry and the arching of your back off the bed, you clench around him for one final time before he comes to a halt, barely holding himself up over you as he releases within you with a shuddering, gasping groan.

moments pass, stretching into longer than they typically are. jeno takes care as he slides out of you, climbing onto the bed and flopping down next to you right after. the feeling of his release, sticky and wet against your inner thighs, is unpleasant at best, but you can’t bring yourself to clean up just yet. instead, you turn your head to your side, your nose immediately brushing against jeno’s sternum as you realize that he’s turned his entire body towards your own. he lets out an airy laugh at the sensation, pushing half of the sliced cloth off of your body in order to run a wide open palm down your naked side.

“good?” he speaks first, asking an arbitrary question. ‘good enough to make you forget?’ is what he means, knowing full well that you could never lose thought of what awaits the two of you. the sentiment is what’s important, though, and you let out an agreeable hum as a reply. the sex itself was great, of course. he’s well aware.

“sleep, lionheart,” you say just as silence attempts to cloak the two of you. “we must be ready soon, as it is.”

jeno gives you no response, and you do not require one from him. instead, he pulls you even closer into his chest as if doing so will protect you from the crithagians across your kingdom. his entire world rests between his arms. you are both tired enough that sleep forces your eyelids closed swifter than expected, and as you fall asleep to your lover’s slowed breathing and muted heartbeat, you can’t help but, just this once, allow your worries to slip off your body as your torn nightgown does.

just before the rise of the sun, jeno will have to get out of bed and clean you up as best he can before donning his clothing, his armor, and his cape. you’ll put his helmet upon his head, pull his visor down over his face after sharing a kiss that could be your last. it is always like this. jeno will rouse the army, you will dress and arm yourself, and meet with your own private troops.

as the sun begins to take its place in the morning sky, luckily opposite your gaze, jeno will lead his people into battle, riding his steed far, far from you. you will watch him go, but he will not look back. doing so is unfortunate luck at best. you’ve ingrained this into his mind.

you do not know whether he will be back or not.

you desperately need him to come back.

all of that will happen in due time, but now, you drift to dreamland, safe in the arms of the man you’ve sworn to be with until the end. he tightens his hold around you, and that is how you spend the night before battle, in total comfort and full of love. no matter what tomorrow brings, at least you have this now. at least you will always have this moment.

the lionheart and his liege. your lionheart and his love.

for now, you are at peace in the calm before the storm.

#first #five #tags #dont #work #jeno #jeno smut #jeno fluff #jeno angst #jeno x reader #nct jeno #nct smut #nct fluff #nct angst #nct dream smut #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #nct dream

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angstyantoinette · 3 years

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Yandere! Armin Arlert Headcanons

AGED UP I REPEAT ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP-

This little blonde ball of curiosity is verrryy toxic in my Yandere version.

Armin knows how innocent he looks to other people and by playing on this, coupled with his practical and analytical genius status, boy is it so very easy for him to gain the trust of his comrades, friends and especially his Beloved.

I feel as if Armin wouldn’t be picky with a particular type, but never being attracted to an unkind or particular person he would be disgusted by in any way.

He may fall for someone who is slightly colder, or who doesn’t really know how to respond to kindness. In that scenario, Armin would be overjoyed, but very patient and giving with them; if he wasn’t Yandere.

I see him as very touch-starved and wanting, but afraid to be clingy for fear he would drive his Beloved away. In this case he would dote on you as best he could in his environment, making you fall for him even more.

You would him as endearing, and like most, innocent. Armin is smart; one might say way too smart for his own good, and being a Yandere, I feel this makes him just as dangerous as those willing to use physical violence/methods on their Beloved.

He knows that you just love his little quirks and his way of thinking. If you tell him this, he may think you only see him as valuable because of his skill for strategizing. But when you reassure him that you just love him for him, he just falls in love with you even more.

He’s worrisome about you. Every time he makes practise with your ODM gear until you’re bruised, and exhausted, ready to run into his awaiting arms. Rewarding you with cuddles and affection, Armin’s love isn’t exactly conditional; but it still isn’t normal.

But that’s if you accept his feelings, with Armin being a Yandere or not, and with your knowledge or ignorance.

If you don’t accept his feelings, whether it being for your personal reasons, or because you…um, like someone else, to put it nicely;

YOU’RE FUCKED.

He’ll smile, nod his head, maybe try a little too hard to act like he’s okay with your decision. But you understand, after all, it’s not like you haven’t been rejected before.

“We can always be friends, Armin! I’m here for you okay?”

“Yeah, Y/N, whatever you say…”

About a few weeks after his rejection, with all of the support from Eren, Mikasa and the others, Armin is slowly descending into a deep depression.

He was so sure of his feelings for you. They were his most prized possession. You made him laugh, you made him blush and god you made his pitiful life seem so much more worth living. You were the ocean, and he just wanted to drown myself in you. Like the sun he saw so rarely, you were the ray of pure light that made his body burn.

He lay awake at night, taunted and enthralled with the thoughts of you in so many different scenarios….maybe in particular, different positions.

[Yes, those kinda positions. Armin’s not always that innocent, y’all.]

He knows that the more he thinks of you in these appetizing ways, in these hurtfully satisfying scenarios, he’s never going to be able to get over you.

Rather, he’s not even going to try.

Being trapped in his fantasies, Armin is horrifically aware that these feelings are incredibly toxic, for the both of you. He just won’t let you go. Whatever it takes, Armin will commit whatever crimes he must to keep you in his life.

He sees you as being misunderstood, especially if you’re typically a colder person, hard to read, detached. Some people compare you to Levi, but Armin just knows that you, like the Corporal, have far more depth than you let on.

His intrigue doesn’t let up for a long while, as you’re constantly surprising him in new and amazing ways. You’re used to his deep interest in you after a while, but you still don’t understand him.

Armin thrives on your confusion at first, but if it drives you away from him, he’ll go into tactical mode. Staying up all night,figuring out who is calling your attention to them rather than him and what his next move should be.

With his intelligence, Armin keeps his sizzling bafflement and envy under wraps. He tells himself that maybe he had unerved you a little. He can get like that sometimes, surely you understood him well enough to know that?He obviously did find you interesting and he was willing to momentarily abandon Eren and Mikasa just to fuel his endless curiosity.

Keep in mind, this is after you reject him, and his desperation to just know you and love you is greatly overwhelming him to the highest degree. You just won’t allow him to really see you, to understand you.

Eventually, he snaps. Just not in the typical yandere way. We all know that Armin feels as though he is a nuisance, a self-proclaimed burden so he keeps most of his feelings inside, and lets them loose to either prove a point, or while under stress.

It takes a minute for him to decide what to do with you, because he knows that once he has made a choice, it has to be the right choice. He has to know and map out a detailed plan, whether it’s doable, whether he’s able to pull it off by himself, etc.

His analytical skills come into play, and he plans everything from the location, time, the equipment needed at exactly what time. By this time, he will have comepletely left you alone; abrupt and brash, and just as he planned, you were surprised. Yes, he wanted to get to know you, and you couldn’t help but feel even slightly violated and maybe even disturbed.

Your like anyone in the world, have natural curiosity and interest in just about anything. But the unfamiliar feeling of unsettlement around Armin just felt…off.

You secretly knew of his deep infatuation; people always seemed to determined to figure the silent types out, to crack them open, decipher their many secrets. In terms of this analogy, you sort of understand, maybe even sympathise with his endless novelty toward your character, but even so…just why?

Maybe it was the fact that you felt bad for him, in a sad, puppy love kinda way. Maybe you saw him as a traumatized individual, just putting his assumed coping mechanism to work, with you just in the innocent line of fire.

If he kidnaps you at all, Armin will smother you. Telling you how much you mean to him, explaining that only he can access your wonder and intrigue. Because, after all, he worked this hard to get you; why would he ever share you with anyone else?

Although he will be stern, he’ll always be nice about it, rewarding you or not.

You’re an enigma to Armin Arlert, keeping him guessing, testing his patience with all of your being. You don’t know it, but soon you’ll be in his possession.

I headcanon him as seeing your refusal, your blatant rejection as some kind of ‘disease.’ You haven’t even seen the best of him yet, why make up your mind about something that you know almost nothing of? Oh well, you’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other very soon. He’ll bare his injured soul to you, and you’ll have mo choice but to do the same for him. It’s what married couples do after all, right?

Just let him love you, Y/N. Let Armin adore you. It’s the best thing to do if you want everyone to live.

Glassy, still sapphire eyes simply stared at you in the weak light of a stolen candle. You couldn’t quite pinpoint what they were saying, those beautiful, dangerous, albeit loving eyes. But yet, they also held malice in their abyss’. Endless, bottomless, simply divine they were. That was all you knew.

“Why…do you lie to me?” he murmered. A small, rough palm came to rest against your hollowed cheek, fingertips gently tapping against the skin. Realising how close he truly was, you tried your hardest to get away, shifting in your place in the surprisingly plush, old bed, but all it took was a flash of blonde hair to whip past your face, before he succeeded in holding your arms down.

While he never did this explicitly to punish or harm you, Armin always knew just how to exert his power. Never mind the boundaries that he installed in you the day of your arrival; he didn’t care for them as much as you had to pretend to.

This Armin was unhinged. Normalcy could never be considered in this relationship. He could never understand the pain he put you through. To Armin, it was all in the name of his devotion. All of his interest had been rooted in one fact; you refused to love him.

Once he figured out that you wouldn’t couldn’t love him of your own accord, he became enamoured with something he just knew he could never have.

He had never even thought about taking you, drugging you, dragging you to a secluded spot in the woods, or an out of bounds room, derelict over many years.

“I never intended to take you like this, bunny.”

Swallowing hard, you tried to look him in the eyes, gently lifting your head higher and higher until his blue pools of mere unhinged insanity met your own pained orbs. Seeming to like this, he smiled.

His perfect teeth looked more like fangs in the dim, weak moonlight. It had felt like he had managed to suck every molecule of beauty from even the most simple of things.

His voice sounded like the devil; harsh, unforgiving lilting tones of false hope daring to stroke you face and make you think you had a good chance at happiness.

You didn’t know when he stopped being Armin and began being a monster. You didn’t know if the lines could be blurred any further.

“I never wanted this, Armin-”

“Don’t play with me, bunny,” he snapped. His slender fingers wound themselves in your clean hair, twisting and searching for a soft spot to pull. When he found it, he lightly tugged; barely, but you still winced from the thought of the last time he did this.

You still wanted to believe that he was quiet, sweet Armin who still had an unstoppable fascination with you, but he was harmless then. Or was he? Was he faking his intentions? Did he have it planned from the very beginning?

You wanted to choke yourself for believing his simple demeanour, his dedication to the cause of the Survey Corps just like everyone else. He was a liar. He was a predator in all ways, ensnaring you, his perfect prey.

Only now had Armin realized just how confused you were.

You didn’t understand his love for you. You thought he hated you!

Now that wouldn’t do.

Armin could have have kicked himself. All of his stern discipline and rules stemming from his love and protection meant that you mistook for him being cruel. He was doing this out of his devotion!

How could he assume you would understand if he never told you, if he never proved his love?

“Armin, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything, I swear-” You took a deep breath, cutting yourself off. Now was not the place or time to be losing your composure; you still were trying to get used to the fact that you were being held against your will.

“Hush”, he suddenly murmured, gently taking your chin in his fingertips, before moving them to tenderly cup your face, his eyes darting anywhere that he could lay his gaze upon.

The gestures were so tender you found your cheeks erupting with a wild blush, the burning shame hitting you moments later when your hatred and slight fear hit you like a slap to the face.

Your embarassment only got worse when you felt his soft lips kiss your throat, his warm breath flush against your skin. His hands found themselves back in your hair again, stroking it, petting it, twisting it round and round his finger. His right hand caressed your nape, spreading his fingers so that they only just covered the width of your neck, and he pulled you closer, so that your head was nuzzled into his neck, buried beneath his love and fascination.

It all clicked.

Armin wasn’t just interested in you.

He was obessed with you.

Obsessively in love with you.

You felt pathetic. You felt weak. But in a strange way, you also felt loved.

You had no choice but to resign yourself to his touch, letting your head fall limp as he cradled you to his chest.

“Good bunny.”

#yandere aot #yandere snk #yandere armin #armin arlert x reader #attack on titan #yandere #headcanons #yandere attack on titan #Headcanon #hc's #armin x reader

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baya-ni · 3 years

Text

The Queer Appeal of Sk8

Recently @mulberrymelancholy reblogged a post of mine with a truly galaxy brain take about how Sk8 “is a show made for queer fans” and generally how sports anime often depicts love and relationships in a way that’s more accessible and relatable to ace/arospec people than other mainstream media does.

Just, *chef’s kiss* fucking brilliant. I urge you to read their post here (note I’m referring to the reblog not the actual post).

And basically, it got me thinking about this concept of Sk8 as a Queer Show, and the kinds of stories and dynamics that tend to attract queer audiences in droves, regardless of whether its queerness is made explicit or hell, whether that queerness was intended.

And that’s what I’ve been pondering: What are the cues, markers, or coding, in Sk8 that set off the community’s collective gaydar?

I obviously can’t speak for the community. So here’s what aspects of the show intrigued me and what, for me, marks Sk8 as a Queer Show beyond the subtextual queer romances: a punk/alternative aesthetic, Found Family, Shadow as a drag persona, and The Hands.

1.) The Punk Aesthetic

All three of the above screenshots are taken from Ep 1, and every single one of them depicts background characters. They’re nameless and ultimately unimportant characters, yet each of them designed so distinctly and so unique from one another, one could mistake each of them for the main character(s) of another story.

Of what little I know about Punk subculture, I do know this: that the ethos of Punk is heavily built around a celebration of individuality and non-conformity. Sk8 seems to have incorporated this ethos into the very fabric its worldbuilding, and the aesthetics and culture upon which it takes inspiration appeals specifically to a queer audience.

I don’t really need to explain why Punk has such deep ties with the queer community. For decades, queer people have found community and acceptance within punk spaces, and punk ideology is something that I think is just ingrained in the queer consciousness as both lived experience and a survival tactic.

Therefore, a show that adopts punk aesthetics is, by association, already paying homage to Queer culture, intentional or not.

Queer fans notice this- like recognizes like.

2.) Found Family

This also needs little explanation.

Too often, queer individuals cannot rely on their “born into” families for support and acceptance. Too often, we are abused, neglected, and abandoned by those who we were taught would “always be there for us.”

And so, a universal experience for queer people has been redefining the meaning of Family, having to build our families from scratch, finding brothers, sisters, mothers, and fathers in people with whom we have no blood relation, and forming communities tied together by shared lived experience rather than shared genetics.

And this idea of Found Family is also built into Sk8′s narrative.

Like, for example, the way that Reki promises MIYA that he and Langa will “never disappear from [his] sight,” filling the void that MIYA felt after his friends abandoned him.

And in the way that JOE becomes a paternal figure for Reki, teaching him ways to improve in skateboarding, and ensuring that Reki doesn’t self isolate when he’s feeling insecure.

And in the whole Ep 6 business with Hiromi acting as babysitter to the Gang.

Hell, even ADAM (derogatory) is associated with this trope. Abused as a child, he finds solace in an underground skateboarding community and culture he helped create- his own found family (or some powertrippy version of it anyway).

Again, queer fans see themselves depicted in the show, but this time in the way that the show gives importance to Found Family relationships between its characters.

3.) Shadow and Drag

This is one that’s more of an association that I personally made. But I was intrigued by the way that Hiromi adopts his SHADOW persona. He wears SHADOW like a mask, and adopts a personality seemingly so opposite to his day-to-day behavior.

Further, the theatricality and general “gender fuckery” of his SHADOW persona, to me, just seemed so similar to a the characteristics of a drag persona (I don’t know a whole lot about drag but enough that I’m drawing superficial similarities).

There’s also this aspect of a “double life” that he, and actually all the other adult characters of the show, have to adopt, which is a way of living that I’m sure a lot of queer viewers see themselves reflected in.

4.) The Hands

Ohhhh the Hands.

One of the things I noticed very early on is the way the show constantly draws our attention to Reki’s hands, which I thought was a little strange for an anime about skating. After all, skating doesn’t really involve the hands, or at least the show doesn’t really draw attention to hands within the context of skating.

I count 3 times so far between Eps 1-9 in which hands are the focus of the frame.

First, when Reki teaches Langa how to fist pump after Langa lands his first ollie, second, when Reki and Langa make their Promise, and finally, when Langa saves Reki from falling off his board.

And you know what they say, twice is a coincidence but thrice is a motif (no one else actually says this I think I’m the only one who says this lol).

I’m not really certain why hands seem to be such a shared fixation among queer people (at least among those I interact with). All I know is that gay people are just fucking obsessed with them.

I have a Theory as to why, and at this point I’d love for other people to chime in and “compare notes” if you will, but I think it basically has to do with repression. And in the same way that queer people have had to redefine the meaning of family, we’ve also had to redefine intimacy.

Being overtly physically affectionate with someone of the same sex, even if they’re your significant other, or often specifically BECAUSE they’re your significant other, can still be dangerous, even now despite the “progression” of society. Queer people know this, this vigilant surveillance of our environment and ourselves, always asking ourselves, “Am I safe enough to be myself?”

Already, Western culture is pretty touch-averse. That is, it’s considered taboo to touch someone unless they’re a family member or a romantic partner. And to touch a person of the same sex in any way that could be misconstrued as romantic (which is most things tbh) is a big no no.

There’s just A Lot to unpack there.

But basically I think that queer people, by necessity, have had to learn to romanticize mundane or unconventional ways of being physically intimate so that we can continue to be romantic with one another without “being caught” so to speak.

Kissing and hugging is too obvious. But a handshake that lingers for just a second too long is much more likely to go unnoticed, braiding someone’s hair can easily be explained away as just lending a helping hand, touching palms to “compare hand sizes” is just good fun.

But for queer people, these brief and seemingly insignificant touches hold greater meaning, because it’s all we are allowed, and all we allow ourselves, to exchange with others.

God, I’ve gone off and rambled again. What’s my point? Basically that the way the show draws attention to Reki’s hands, and specifically how they’re so often framed with Langa’s hands, is one of the major reasons why I clocked Sk8 as a Queer. It’s just something that resonated with me and my own experience of queerness, and I know that I’m not the only one who noticed either.

So in conclusion, uhhhh yeah Sk8 the Infinity is just a super gay show, and it’s not even because of the homo-romantic subtext (that at this point is really just Text).

Because what’s important to understand is that Queerness isn’t just about same-sex romance.

Queer Love isn’t just shared between wives/girlfriends, husbands/boyfriends, and all their in-betweens. Queer Love can be two best friends who come out together, queer siblings who rely and support one another, a gay teacher who helps guide one of their questioning students, a queer community pitching in to help a struggling member.

And that all ties with another important thing to consider, that what we refer to as the “queer experience” or “queer culture” isn’t universal. In fact, it wrongly lumps together the unique experiences and struggles of queer BIPOC all under one umbrella that’s primary White and middle class.

So I think what drives a lot of my frustration about labeling a show like Sk8 as Queerbait is this very issue of considering queerness and queer representation within such narrow standards, and mandating that a show must pass a certain threshold of explicit queerness to be considered good representation.

I get that someone might only feel represented by an indisputable canonization of a same-sex couple. That’s fine. But labeling Sk8 as Queerbait for that reason alone ignores the vast array of other queer experiences.

The aspects of Sk8 that resonate most deeply with my own experiences of queerness is in the way that Reki and Langa share intimacy through skating (intricate rituals heyo). For me, them officially getting together ultimately doesn’t matter- I’ll consider Sk8 a Queer show regardless.

Similarly, @mulberrymelancholy finds ace/arospec representation in that very absence of an on-screen kiss. A bisexual man might find representation in Reki, not because he enters a canon relationship, but in the depiction of Reki’s coming of age, growing up and navigating adolescent relationships. A non-binary person might feel represented through CHERRY’s androgyny.

That’s the thing, I don’t know how this show will resonate with other members of the queer community, and it’d be wrong to make a judgement on Sk8′s queer representation based on my experiences alone.

That being said, Straight people definitely don’t get to judge Sk8 as Queerbait. Y’all can watch and enjoy the show, we WANT you to enjoy these kinds of shows, and we want you to share these shows and contribute to the normalization and celebration of these kinds of narratives.

But understand that you don’t have a right to tell us whether or not Sk8 has good or bad queer representation.

And even members of the queer community are on thin ice. Your experience of queerness is not universal. Listen to the other members of your community, and respect that what you might find lacking in this show may be the exact representation that someone else needs.

#and scene #i was up till 4am writing this instead of doing my hw #bc i hav Opinions dammit #sk8 #sk8 the infinity #sk8 meta #sk8 theory #queerbait

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thestarsanctuary · 3 years

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hi! I was hoping you could do a Bakugo, Midoriya, Todoroki and Kirishima (separate) with an s/o that has Tourettes, preferably they/them pronouns please. I hope you're having a good day <3

Of course! I was gonna take a break in the middle of my (unspoken) break aka me being lazy, but this request was so nice I- I had to 😔✋🏾 it was definitely the heart. It got me.

MHA BOYS WITH AN S/O THAT HAS TOURETTES

TW FOR ODD LOOKS AND STARES/BULLYING(ISH)

BAKUGO

Bakugo wasn’t really sure when he first met you about why your head was twitching or why you were repeating the sentences Aizawa had said sometimes, as he didn’t know you had tourettes. He never even spoke to you like the others did so you never had the chance to tell him until Kirishima did.

When you two started dating he started seeing patterns of when you would get to stressed and start jerking or spouting out random things you heard from youtube videos, he did his best to make sure you knew he was there for reassurance, whether it was a hand on your hand or just pure presence.

There were times when you would have ticcing fits and he would have to sit and rub your back and watch you, and in those times you realized he really was there for you.

He likes to do this thing where he rants on about things he doesn’t like to try and distract you- I’m not sure how he has so much he doesn’t like but every time it’s a new odd topic....sometimes it can literally be something like how he hates trees because when it’s fall he has to rake up the leaves and you have to say

“Bakugo they literally help you not die.” It really is a mystery sometimes how he’s so smart.

Sometimes you can be a bit upset with your tics. It’s not that you’re insecure or that you’re ashamed, but they’re difficult to deal with. The control that you could have isn’t there and that’s stressful in and of itself, and in those moments Bakugo realizes the best thing he can do for you - is make you understand that you are just like the rest of the class and the rest of the people in the world.

“Listen it doesn’t matter if you’re different because to me you’re still cool, you’re still funny, you’re still incredibly sarcastic and while I don’t enjoy that for the most part- you’re my extra regardless of whatever you feel. Get that bull out of your head.”

I mean, he wouldn’t date anybody less than the best.

MIDORIYA

Midoriya is the predictable character in the relationship. He researched about Tourettes and what he could do in times when you needed him, I mean he’s not perfect but he’d rather know something rather than nothing.

You tended to be the one who was more of a risk taker, and sometimes your tourettes got in the way of that- which could frustrate you to no end then causing harsher tics like hitting or yelling, and those were the times Midoriya tried to get anything too dangerous either out of your hands- or just out of the way so you didn’t get hurt, he was smart with it.

Other times he could be too much for you, almost treating you like a kid so you had to remind him that you know and understand precautions, but that you also want to live like everybody else and that is nothing short of your business.

You’re favorite activity with him was when he would help you study because he made it so fun for you. It could be hard to pay attention in class sometimes and do your work after school so Izuku would come over and assist you. He would make sure you guys took breaks and that you understood the topic at your own pace.

“Izuku can you like- give an example?”

“Well it’s just kind of- wait what is an example-“

In many situations Midoriya LOVED holding your hand, like he did it at any time, any place. It was something he thought wasn’t too much in public and it was reassuring for you both. When you’re tics got too much you could squeeze his hand, and other times when he wouls get anxious or something would happen he would squeeze yours. It was cute and handy!

There were instances when Midoriya definitely had his mistakes with your tics and how to deal with them but he was willing to take his time and learn because who would he be without his perfect person stayin’ by his side?

KIRISHIMA

Kirishima is probably the most sympathetic with your tics because he stay prepared for them. It’s never been like “Kirishima can you” but it’s always been more like ‘Kiri how do you always know’ and there’s never been an answer that he gave other than ‘I gotta stay ready for my lovely lover~’

Kirishima likes to do this thing where he goes “neck” after you have a rough day with your tics and with massage your neck for you or your back, depending on how your tics were. He likes takin’ care of you, and it’s not like he doesn’t know you can’t take care of yourself because hey, you didn’t get into 1-A by being a pushover.

Sometimes you’ve had times when people in school just aren’t all that accepting and Kirishima will clap back unprovoked.

“Sometimes I think about how sad you have to be to make fun of them and dang man, you got a therapist?”

Other times you’ll basically respond for him, like I said, you can DEFINITELY take care of yourself.

Whenever you’re in the car or on the bus on a trip in the case that you’ve gotten real excited (which is natural being around your boyfriends and your friends at the same time) he’ll play this playlist he made of your favorite songs and sing to distract you. Does he sing well? That wasn’t the question- but he does sing, only for you though because the other students keep dissing him.

He has a reflex of rubbing your back during free period or at lunch. I don’t think this is relevant but it’s something super adorable, and sometimes he just gives you his hand to look at and play with when you have anxiety as well to keep you calm.

Also irrelevant but other times he’ll facetime you before you guys go somewhere and ask what to wear because he wants to match with you, and it’s so cute because you could lie so hard and he’d believe everything you say.

You two are kinda a power couple like- you both can hold your own but also are such nice people, good job makin’ the rest of 1-A feel lonely guys.

TODOROKI

Todoroki is a simple guy. He doesn’t want to overcomplicate things for the most part because “why would I act like your guardian, if I’m literally your boyfriend” and that’s that.

He tends to try and keep you calm, as it’s something pretty simple for him, he knows a bunch of tactics for distractions or when those are obsolete, he’ll just sit there with you, and maybe rub your back or get a water bottle for when it’s done, he just never wants to do too much because he knows your capabilities, and he knows your limits.

He is also a large hand holder. Mostly because he doesn’t like the idea of PDA for the most part, and he doesn’t like leaving your side either, because you’re very comforting to him. It’s a given we all know he needs love and comfort please.

There have been times when people look at your because of your tics in public and Todoroki has had to give a little glare back because of the disrespect being blatantly put out. In rarer times you will both glare at the same time, those are the coolest moments of you as a couple.

Shoto doesn’t really care much for your tics only because he’d rather just make sure you’re ok then watch Avengers rather than treat you like a child if anything, and that’s because you told him first that you wanted a boyfriend not a babysitter (speakin’ facts) and at first he didn’t understand and he thought you didn’t want his help but soon understood otherwise.

Some cute things I like to think of are that he likes to put on your favorite songs when you’re anxious and try to dance for you. It’s not good- let’s start with that, because he’s kinda...stiff, but the attempt is absolutely adorable (and oh so funny).

Other things are he likes to call you cheesy nicknames when you’re cuddling because he likes your reactions everytime, because according to him, yeah he said it himself, you are very adorable when annoyed. Don’t @ me!

Overall he just loves spending time with you whenever he can, you’re truly a safe-haven for him.

EL FIN

Alright tourettes is a real thing y’all, so I didnt make this rainbows n cupcakes bc im sure that’s not always how it is.

If anything in this is offensive or too much for somebody I can take it down and re-do it! I’m not too sure how it is bc it feels kinda repetitive but we’ll see I guess, and thanks to the person who requested my day was fine thanks 😩✋🏾.

I also included some things I like to do (play with hands and listen to music) because i have anxiety and I known that can worsen tics and can also come with tics (a lot of ppl with tics have adhd, anxiety, or some sort of disorder along with it)

- SS <333333

#bnha #bnha x reader #tourettes #tourette syndrome #mha x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #eijiro kirishima #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #todoroki x reader #midoriya x you #midoriya x reader #kirishima x reader

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