#lord knows how well that’ll go

[chrollohearttags]

bake it

reiner can’t get enough of you or your sweet treats. Regardless of what anyone thinks.

themes: food play, reiner and reader both being nasty af, (and both have super country accents), lots of old southern colloquialisms, food play, oral (m. receiving), spit play, pet names (sugar, poundcake, daddy, pumpkin, sweet girl), spanking, backshots, squirting

📝: this may or may not be a lil series based off my fav album at the moment. I think it fits the cowboy!reiner x reader headcanon very well.

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“Chile, did you hear about what (y/n) did down at the Hole this weekend?”

“Girl yes. Being fast and actin’ all loose. Hanging over every man that’ll look her way.” “I’m tellin’ ya, honey. She ain’t nothing like her mama or her cousins. Girl’s a handful, I tell ya. Never seen a thang’ like it.”

“She was with that Braun boy from what I heard. Lord knows what she was doing..”

rumblings and rumors had spread like wildfire among about what took place at the infamous hang out spot and saloon in the small town in which you’d grown up. It seemed that not much had changed from the time you were a tiny child from now being a grown woman, returning to your stomping grounds after a couple years of higher education. Pearl clutching church ladies and snobby debutants with their noses in the air, disapproving of any woman who hadn’t settled down and popped out ten kids before the age of twenty five. It was how the customary traditions went in the south and sadly, wasn’t going to change any time soon. However…

“Yes and did you hear that I had him calling to the good lord after I fucked him seven ways to Sunday? He was a lot of fun. Boy’s got a third leg and a tongue like a serpent. Might have to keep him around.”

the very bold proclamation of your supposed actions had your coworkers of the Sweetie Pie Bakery; owned by the ladies in your family and had been a staple in the city for ten years, gasping and glaring at you disgust. The ones working there currently were a few new hires from the local church. The types to be sleeping with other people’s husbands by Saturday and running in and out of the pew on Sunday. Blatant hypocrites. Hence why you so casually admitted to your affairs and boasted about them. You didn’t give a damn what those uppity bitches thought of you! Especially when the man in question was all but obsessed with you…sneaking away at any opportune moment to have you since the first night you gave him a taste of your proverbial sweetness. Slurping you up, tonguing you down and pounding that little pussy sideways..letting him have a slice of you anyway he liked. It was no secret to anyone that you weren’t some innocent saint but if it’s gossip they wanted, you’d give those mouth breathing heifers something to bump their gums about. They’d feel how they want to about you regardless so it didn’t matter. Might as well have a little fun..

“Now if you ladies will excuse me, I have a delivery to make.”

“In that outfit?!” Referring to the very short, denim miniskirt wrapping your thick backside and halter top hoisting your ample breasts.“It’s ninety two degrees outside besides, a wretched jezebel like me has to look the part, right?” Mocking them with an overly done accent and a fake smile before waving and turning on the heels of your boots.

and where you were headed, you wouldn’t have it on long anyways..not once he spotted you…

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

halfway across the tracks was a small office residing on the outskirts of town, right before you’d reach the dozen mile long stretch of fields and farmland. The moniker atop the building read ‘Braun Farms, Inc.’ owned and operated by the prominent family for several years and generations. Providing fresh vegetables, poultry, cattle and everything else to many local diners and families. The hardest working man in the entire company may have been the next line to take it over, Reiner Braun. A young, handsome, determined guy who was always about his business before any sort of pleasures. Of course, that all changed when his new fling came around..a girl by the name of (y/n) (l/n) who had a grip on him in more ways than one. After some whisperings, he discovered that you too had grown up in this area but was carted off to school elsewhere in your adolescence. You at sone private Christian academy and him homeschooled, hence why your paths never crossed. But that was a thing of the past and so was hiding the promiscuity you both harbored.

“Damn, poundcake. You keep suckin’ on me like that and I might hafta’ give you my credit card and last name.”

the words escaping in a guttural groan from Reiner’s half parted lips. His chest was heaving, so much so, it looked as if it were about to pop from his chest. Going mad with pure unadulterated lust as you licked on his shaft from underneath the desk. He had been assigned to records keeping today so you decided to pay him a little visit on his lunch break. And what was a better meal than your delicious cupcake and the chance to eat his dick up?

“Don’t say that too loud, pumpkin. Someone might get the wrong idea about me..think I’m trying to take ya’ money.”

“To hell with them. Only thing I want right now is to fuck that pretty lil’ throat.”

and he did just that. Bobbing your head up and down with a spread palm resting atop your freshly done lace front; feeding you every inch feasible of that long, erect cock. Gliding it to the back of your mouth until it damn near reached your esophagus and drummed up strings of spit. Loud gurgling noises filled the room and Reiner nearly lost his shit. Clawing at the arms of the chair and cursing like a sailor. You had this man doing and behaving in ways unbecoming of his character but he could give a damn less. As long as you kept letting him use you like this. Sticking your tongue out, you’d smile and request that he spit into your mouth..adding to the pre existing strings saliva and cum covering your face. It didn’t help matters any when you decided to take some of that frosting and place it on his sensitive tip before slurping it off. “W-whatever you want, sugar. I’ll give you whatever you want just keep —oh shit!” Earning yourself another warm load of his nut all over your exposed tits and pretty face. “You taste so good..” Those deviant eyes and sultry voice luring him in. By now, you had to be dripping so he’d tug you out from under there and place you at the edge of the desk before saddling up behind you with that hard dick. Hoisting that mini skirt to your waist, letting it bunch up around that soft, pudgy tummy, he was pleased to find that you wearing no panties but was wetter than the lake he frequented.

“Want you to fuck this pussy so good…stretch it out f’r me, Rei…” begging with your decorated nails placed on your round cheeks as you pulled them apart to reveal that puckering hole and soaking entrance…making him hungry for both. Wasting no time, he’d grab a handful of that thin top and your waist to reign you in. With his teeth grimaced, he’d whisper in your ear with growls; feeding you heavy handed smacks to your ass in the process. Spanking you like a bad kid but doing so because you enjoyed every second. “That’s what you want, sugar? For me to fuck ya’ like a lil’ slut? Make you come all over this dick? That right, baby?” To which you’d nod profusely, never craving something so badly before in your life. Of course, he was happy to oblige..but you’d have to beg a bit, just because that sexy voice turned him on so bad. “Yes, daddy. Need you to fill my shit up too..nut all in this pussy. I ain’t come all this way for nothin.” And of course, that all but sold him. So with your inviting heat waiting for him and those Wranglers ruffled around his waist, Reiner pulled you in close before impaling you on his cock.

“Damn right, baby..so take all this dick.” Pressing a thumb to your tight little asshole as he pumped you full..one long, deep stroke after the next, coaxing out sticky cream and soft cries as you scratched at the wooden surface he had you planked across. Sliding in and out of that warmth like a perfectly fitting puzzle piece. The tight clutch you put around his shaft had him mesmerized. It didn’t help your case any when you constantly doted and bragged on how good he fucked you. “I swear you’re the only one who can get this pussy wet like this..” “..right there, daddy. You in my fucking spot..gonna make me come.” Of course, Reiner was loving every bit and only wanted to please his lady so as that big ass bounced against his pelvis and rippled like waves, he’d give you more slaps and try to maintain his pace. Even going as far as to make that tip kiss the inner corner of your cervix.“Give it to me then…nut f’r me, sweet girl. Let it all go.” And the second you did, juices flooded the floor as you squirted all over him. “Shitttt! That’s what I’m talking about, pretty girl. Make a mess of me..” grinning from ear to ear before housing his own seed inside of you. That pulsating cock still inside of you minutes later. Turning you around, he’d mark your lips with a sloppy kiss and look down at the aftermath.

“I swear, I ain’t never gonna be able to quit you, sugar. Just too damn sweet..”

#cherry’s drabbles 🍒🌷 #aot x black reader #black fem reader #black reader smut #reiner x black reader smut #reiner x black reader #reiner x chubby reader #reiner x reader smut #reiner braun smut #reiner braun x black reader #reiner braun x black reader smut #reiner braun x chubby reader #reiner braun x reader #cowboy reiner #cowboy reiner will be the death of me I swear #black reader #aot au #aot x black y/n #aot x chubby reader #aot smut #plus size reader #aot drabbles #aot hcs #reiner headcanons #reiner braun imagine #reiner braun headcanons #cw smut #cw sex mention #cw spit #cw food

[astermath]

sweet like you🍓

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: carmen stumbles across a local farmer’s market on accident and discovers a family run strawberry stand. he discovers that not only the strawberries are delicious and sweet, but so is the girl selling them to him.

word count: 2.1K

notes: yk what’s really funny,, i never realised so far a lot of my fics involve the color red. perhaps it’s becoming my new favorite color and I love to make it obvious dsgdfsj,, anyways first time writing for carmen, been obsessed w him since the bear came out. i’m a whore for jeremy allen white in case you haven’t noticed. anyways this will def get a part two!!

P.S. let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated, requests are open!

Saturday was farmer’s market day.

Every Saturday morning, dozens of independent businesses, farmers and food stands would come together at Lincoln Park to sell their wares. It made for a colorful and interesting blend of smells, sounds and sights, and for most, a great way to start off their weekend.

And Carmen was no exception to this. He’d first stumbled upon it by accident on his way to the Beef. Taking a wrong turn because of his still waking morning head resulted in him walking through the park and, unavoidably, being distracted by what vendors there were. A chef at heart, he couldn’t help but look around the wide array of fresh ingredients available for purchase. He’d taken out his notebook and started writing down business names as he tried a sample every now and then. 

He held a bag of fresh paprikas in one hand, making his way down the line before he came across a peculiar and seemingly very busy stand. The fresh, sweet scent of strawberries allured him, stepping closer to take a look at what they had to offer. And it was exactly that, just strawberries. It appeared to be a family business, your mother and father packing orders, and you at the front taking them and accepting payments. For a second he just kind of stood there, bag in hand, staring at you. There was no way you were from here, Chicago doesn’t let a smile like that survive very long. Or maybe that was just his cynical mind doing its usual thing.

He snapped out of it when you glanced his way, looking to the side. He felt his cheeks getting warmer, embarrassed that just looking at a pretty girl got such a reaction from him. He’s a collected person, he should be acting like one. He took a deep breath and got in line. Lord knows what he’d be using strawberries for, he’d figure something out, might as well just eat them as a snack while the season allowed it.

“Hi! How many?” Your voice was sweet and chipper, something he couldn’t even think of being after taking orders all morning. Somehow, you kept it up.

“Oh, uh...” He looked at your display, before remembering that all you sold were strawberries, so browsing just made him look even more stupid. “How many... Strawberries?”

“Boxes. They’re 500 grams, 5 bucks each. So how many?” Your smile remained the same, though you were slightly amused by his confusion. 

“Oh, right. Sorry.” He could have sank into the ground right then and there. Of course you meant boxes, who in their right mind is buying individual strawberries? “Uh... Just one box is fine, please.” He reached for his wallet while you took over a box from your mom.

“Great! That’ll be 5 dollars please.” You took the slightly crumpled bill from his hand, storing it in the tin box in front of you and quickly writing down something on a paper. Seemed like you still did everything by hand, he couldn’t imagine what a mess it would be if he had to do that at the restaurant.

“Here you go, have a great day!” The box you gave him was neatly wrapped in brown paper, with a sticker serving as a business card on top. 

“Uh...” He stared at the sticker, reading over it before looking back up at you.

Ask for her name.

“Yeah...”

Her name.

“You too.” 

You idiot.

He picked up the box and walked away, walking a little faster than usual. He was never good at talking to people, but god, that was just embarrassing. He opened up the packaging, and took out a perfectly plump strawberry. He took a bite, humming as the juicy sweetness washed over his tastebuds.

Lunch rush had just ended, and Carmen was sat outside the back of the restaurant with Richie, smoking as per usual. Except now, a small cardboard box sat between them. It was almost empty as the two of them snacked on the fruit between puffs of their cigarettes. 

“Ya know, I read somewhere on Facebook that these are supposed to help with uh... Cancer or something.” Richie said, throwing the green leafy part back into the box. 

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot, cousin.” Carmy smiled to himself, back leaned against the wall as he brought the cigarette to his lips.

“Oh, why’s that huh? Cause I can’t read shit online anymore without having to do an hour of research behind it?” Richie furrowed his brows, blowing smoke out his nose.

“No, stupid,” Carmen put the cigarette out on the concrete. “Cause you’re fuckin’ smoking, man. The fuck is a strawberry gonna do against that.”

“Yeah, well... I try to stay positive, you should fucking try it sometime, ya depressed asshole.” He grabbed another strawberry. “Where d’you get these from anyways? Shit’s pretty good.”

The image of you working at the stand flashed through his mind. “Passed by some random farmer’s market this morning. Might stop by there again, got a ton of fresh produce there for not much money.”

“Speakin’ of produce.” Richie used his thumb to point back over his shoulder to the kitchen. “Place’s out of onions. Your magical farmer’s market got those? Cause we need more by the dinner shift.”

Carmen groaned, wanting to curse at Richie for not letting him know earlier. But honestly, if it gave him a chance to go back, get more delicious strawberries and possibly redeem his awkward first impression to the pretty girl there... It might not be a bad idea. He checked the time on his watch, early afternoon, you’d probably be wrapping up right now. If he was fast, he could totally still make it. “Fine, but I’m taking your car.”

“Don’t crash it.” Richie said as he got up, ready to get back inside.

“You’re the one with a suspended license.” He joked, catching the keys Richie threw at him that were totally not aimed at his head.

“Fuck you cousin.”

Parking was a bitch, as always, but Carmen had managed to find a stall selling onions for about half of what he usually got them for. He was starting to like this market, not just for the prices, but because these were all people who worked hard and loved their products. A lot of work goes into putting something out there to sell, he would know. 

He realized he might be pushing his luck if he still wanted to see you, but he decided to take the chance nonetheless and walk down the lineup. It seemed to be his lucky day, as he caught sight of your parents loading up mostly empty boxes back in the car. You were working on breaking down the stand, doing so with relative ease. You were currently folding up the tables, kneeled down onto the ground. 

Again, he stared. Honestly, how could he not? It wasn’t every day he saw someone so beautiful, and with a sweet personality to match. Granted his only interaction with you had been brief, but still, he got a good vibe from you, and he was usually so distrustful.

You looked up, and by pure coincidence, your eyes met. His eyes were so intense, hues of blue that anyone would recognize, even from a mile away. You certainly recognized them from this morning at least. Your face brightened with the same smile he saw you had before, and for a second he wondered if it was just a customer service thing. 

“Hi! Hope you enjoyed your strawberries!” You got up, holding the folded table under your arm. 

“Sure did.” He put on a bit of an awkward smile. God, why was he doing this... What was he even supposed to say?

Your eyes squinted slightly when you read the words on his shirt. “Nice shirt... Oh, wait, you work at the Beef?”

His body tenses up a little when you mention the restaurant. Given its... Peculiar reputation, that question could be followed up by any kind of statement. “Yeah, yeah, I uh... I kinda run it now.” He decided not to mention Mikey. Seemed a bit overkill to mention your dead brother to someone whose name you don’t even know.

“Ohhh, that’s you! Yeah, I’ve seen you smoking outside before.” You extend your hand and you both introduce yourselves. “I work at a café just two blocks over. You might have seen it, it’s called Odette’s?” 

Carmy nodded. He knew that place. He also knew the cranky old French lady who owned it. “Ah... Yeah. Menu still the same?”

“As long as Odette is still alive, I doubt she’ll ever let me change anything. ‘Over my dead body, cherie’”. You jokingly imitated her French accent, chuckling to yourself.

Carmen smiled, glad that he’s at least not making a complete fool out of himself now. This was good, he knew this, work and food, those were his safe topics. “Yeah, well... Maybe if she tasted one of these strawberries first, you might convince her.” 

“Huh,” You thought to yourself for a second, imagining your usual grumpy boss overflowing with glee after trying the fruit from your family’s farm. “You know what, I’ve never actually thought of that. Maybe I’ll try it out!” You smile. “You know I’ve been meaning to try and serve some of my pastries there. I’m a huge baking fanatic, but she’s so... Set in her ways. I don’t know if my amateur baking skills could possibly convince her, no matter how tasty the strawberries I use are.”

“Yeah, I know what that’s like...” Carmen thought about his crew, and how much they loved their so called ‘system’. Change was good, change meant progress, but it was also scary. On that part, he didn’t blame her boss for refusing to switch things up. “If you want, I could help you out. I’m a full time chef, so... Always willing to taste test.” He hoped his poorly masked excuse to stay in touch came across as friendly, and not pushy. He always felt like he was overthinking everything when he was trying to socialize, like he was reading off some type of script. Your chipper personality made things a tad easier, at least. 

“Really?” You seem to brighten up even more. Carmen is sure there’s light shining from your face from how excited you look, but he doesn’t mind. It’s amusing, almost... Cute.

“Yeah, I don’t see why not. Just uh... Let me know when.” He puts his hands in his pockets.

“Of course!” You pause, realizing he’s probably expecting you to give him some kind of contact information. Unless he was planning to use telepathic communication. You put down the folded table. “Right, sorry, uh...” You laughed awkwardly and pulled out a pen and an old receipt from your back pocket to scribble your number on, before handing it to him. “There we go!” 

Carmen’s eyes went over the number, putting it in his wallet so he wouldn’t forget to save it later. “Cool, cool... So uh, text you later.” He silently cringed at his own words, trying painfully hard to play it cool. 

“Yeah, totally!” Your mom called your name, and you look over your shoulder, seeing her gesture to you to hurry up. “Be right there, mama!” You chuckled. “Sorry, duty calls! But yeah, I’ll hear from you. And if I don’t, I know where you work, Berzatto.” 

He chuckles slightly at your joking threat. “Sure, I’ll hold you to that.” He gives you a curt wave before walking off and letting you go back to work. 

He really hoped you didn’t mean that “threat”. He’d rather die than let you see him at the Beef right when they got such a bad hygiene rating. 

He was laid down on the couch late at night, watching an episode on the food network about an olive farm in Italy. He wondered if your family’s farm was anything like this one, and remembered he hadn’t even saved your number or texted you yet. Carmen rubbed his sleepy eyes and pulled out his phone, saving your number under a new contact and typing out a few quick texts. He stared at the screen for a few seconds, realized he was overthinking it and fell asleep not long after, the sound of an elderly Italian woman speaking on TV in the background.

[unknown]: hey, it’s carmen

[unknown]: guy from the beef

[unknown]: next thursday work for you?

You groaned in your bed, looking over at your phone and cursing yourself for forgetting to turn off your notifications. “The fuck...” Your eyes squinted at the brightness of the screen. A sleepy smile adorned your face when you read his name, saving his contact and texting something back quickly before putting the phone away and going back to sleep.

[y/n]: for sure!

[y/n]: let’s do 4:30 PM? café closes at 4 anyways so we’ll have the kitchen to ourselves :)))

#aster writes the bear #carmen berzatto #carmenmath #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto the bear #the bear fic #the bear imagine #the bear #carmen berzatto fan fiction #carmen berzatto x fem!reader #jeremy allen white #jeremy allen white imagine

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: D&D Part 7

Alien DM: Can you explain something to me? Human Necromancer: What is it? Alien: Why is your sub class a seamstress? Human Necromancer: You ever wonder why I remove the limbs of every foe we’ve defeated. Human Paladin: Because you pledged your soul to the darkness leaving me pondering why I have left you alive for this long? Human Necromancer: Close but not quite. Human Necromancer: My raise the dead skill allows me to raise one undead creature at a time as a thrall. Human Necromancer: It does not however specify the size of said creature. Human Artificer: Oh my gods…. Alien DM: What? Human Artificer: Is that why you wanted my bag of holding?!!?? Alien DM: What does that mean? What is happening? Human Artificer: He’s been stitching the limbs together to form a single creature. Alien DM: *Realization kicks in* Alien DM: *Turns to necromancer* How big is your creature? Human Necromancer: By last count three miles long and all of it very grabby. Human Paladin: *Vomits* Human Artificer: So you call it out of my bag when you need it? Human Necromancer: Pretty much. Human Necromancer: I call it “Little Bessie”. ------------------

Alien DM: Metal gates slam down from the ceiling, trapping your party in a narrow corridor. Alien DM: You hear the sound of heavy footsteps towards you and from the shadows emerges the dark lord Drakholm himself. Alien DM: His fiery red eyes look down at you all through his corrupted helm. Alien DM: “I have waited-“ Human Wizard: Question. Alien DM: What? Human Wizard: I would like to ask a quick question. Alien DM: You are cutting the dark lord’s speech off before it has even begun. Human Paladin: It is rude. Human Rogue: The man has killed, like, a thousand people. Human Rogue: Do we really care if we’re rude to him? We’re here to kill him! Human Paladin: Good point. Fuck’m them. Alien DM: *Sighs* Fine, what is your question? Human Wizard: Are these metal gates solid gates or a portcullis? Alien DM: It is a portcullis. Human Wizard: I cast Acid Splash through the metal bars and directly at the dark lord as he is giving his speech. Alien DM: You…..what? Human Rogue: No, no; he’s got a point here. Human Rogue: What kind of villain would expect someone to interrupt his big monologue? Alien DM: I guess….roll for it. *Rolls dice, and passes* Alien DM: You fire a glob of acid at the dark lord as he is giving his speech. Alien DM: He was entirely unprepared for the attack and the glob hits him right in the face passing through the opening in his helmet. Alien DM: He lets out the briefest of screams before his head is reduced to a pile of mush. Human Paladin: I am surprised with how easy that was. Alien DM: I hate you all…..so….so very much. ---------------------------------

Alien Shop Keeper: That’ll be seventeen gold pieces. Human Paladin: That’s robbery! Alien Shop Keeper: Those area my prices. Human Rogue: You know that paladins kill the sinful, right? Alien Shop Keeper: So? Human Rogue: Robbery is considered a sin. Human Paladin: *Draws sword* Alien Shop Keeper: Oh no… ------------------------------------- Alien DM: Suddenly, a group of bandits leap from the bushes! Human Druid: I cast mold earth and turn the dirt underneath them to quicksand. Alien DM: *Rolls dice, fails* Alien DM: Well…..not how I expected that encounter to end. Alien DM: Are you going to bring them up to interrogate? Human Druid: In another three minutes. Alien DM: But these bandits can only hold their breath for one minute. Human Druid: You heard what I said. ---------------------------------- Human Wizard: I cast fireball! Alien DM: The fireball direct hits against the enemy troll in the center of town. Human Wizard: YES! Alien DM: It does absolutely no damage however as it is a rock troll. Human Wizard: Oh. Alien DM: The flames roll off it harmlessly and catch several surrounding buildings on fire. Human Wizard: Oh hell….. Alien DM: The citizens of the buildings run out in fear only to be picked up by rock troll and eaten. Human Wizard: Jesus Christ!!! Alien DM: And then the puppies wander into the street. Human Wizard: For fucks sake just kill my character now and spare the puppies! --------------------------------------------- Human Artificer: BEHOLD! Human Artificer: *Removes shroud* My latest invention! Alien Rogue: What is it? Human Artificer: The ultimate undead fighting weapon! Alien Priest: Interesting, how does it work? Human Artificer: Within this sphere is a small amount of explosive powder mixed with blessed salt. Human Artificer: When the charge goes off it sends breaches the secondary holy water cylinder and sprays the entire area with holy water and blessed sand. Alien Priest: So you’ve made. Human Artificer: A HOLY HANDGRENADE!!!!! --------------------------------------------- Alien DM: The monstrous dragon roars causing the nearby mountains to shake and shatter. Human Warlock: I throw the bag of pebbles I have been holding into its mouth. Alien DM: Really? That’s it? Human Warlock: I also despell the shrinking charm I had placed on the pebbles. Alien DM: Wait, they were shrunk? Alien DM: What was their original size? Human Warlock: Boulders. Human Warlock: They were the size of boulders. Alien DM: *Defeat sigh* Alien DM: *Rolls dice and fails again* Alien DM: The pebbles rapidly expand in the dragon’s throat, suffocating the dragon and killing it. Human Warlock: I roll to skin the dragon! Alien DM: Of course you do. ----------------------------------------- Alien DM: What is the point of having these elaborate boss fights if you keep killing them with simple spells? Human Rogue: Well, you can always say it is not allowed. Alien DM: Wait, what? Human Paladin: Yeah; you can say if something is allowed or not. Human Paladin: The DM has that kind of power. Alien DM: I DO!?!?!?!?!!? Human Warlock: Wait……what do you think DM stands for? Alien DM: It stands for something? Human Wizard: “Dungeon” “Master” Alien DM: 0_0

#humans are insane #humans are weird #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #writing #niqhtlord01 #original writing #funny #dnd #d&d #dungeons and dragons

[newtonsheffield]

Today's preview totally supports the idea that people are loath to invite the Bridgertons to functions because they know the Lord and Lady will be shameless in their disregard for propriety 🤣

And Anthony would be all too happy to never go anywhere.

The man literally doesn’t look anywhere but at Kate when they’re dancing. It’s unseemly. No one can truly get his thoughts on anything when they try to engage him in conversation because he’s always trying to catch her eye across the room, winking at her.

They’re always tucked away in a corner together whispering and giggling. Even when they’re dancing together they’re giggling and whispering and Lord Bridgerton actually stopped before he bowed to her once, tugging off his gloves with a wolfish smile.

“Well, if it isn’t love’s young dream.” A lady sighed to the other’s gathered around her as they watched Lord Bridgerton chase after his giggling wife with a glass of lemonade, startling Lord Aldridge off his seat as they went by.

“Sorry, Aldridge!” Lord Bridgerton called out, catching his wife’s arm who giggled shaking her head as he whispered something in her ear.

“Well.” One of the other ladies said eyeing them closely. “Surely that’ll… fade. They’ve… not been married a year yet. That time’s very…”

“Lord my marriage was never like that.”

“Nor mine.”

“What do you suppose she has on him? Last season dancing with the other young ladies he looked as though he’d swallowed a tonic. Now he’s desperate to dance with her!”

“Whatever it is we should send him into White’s to spread it to the other gentlemen. It might be catching.”

“We should ask Lady Bridgerton how she managed it. It’s a very neat trick.”

“Very neat indeed.”

#kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

[hp-hcs]

(Fine, I’ll do it my damn self: part 5 of my silly lil mlm stories <3)

tmr is just babygirl i don’t make the rules

Watercolors (Chapter One) — tom riddle x male! artistic! hufflepuff! reader

he could manipulate and possess me thus irreversibly changing my trust in people despite it never being mentioned again and i would thank him

yk, i absolutely love chamber of secrets, but who starts a new diary (obtained under questionable circumstances) with ‘my name is’?

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tom Marvolo Riddle had been stuck inside of his diary since he was sixteen years old.

The diary itself, inside, was a perfect replica of Hogwarts, the boundaries stretching out well into the Forbidden Forest. Perfect, except for the fact that it was made solely of parchment and ink, and was completely devoid of color or life.

Tom hated the color of parchment.

The diary passed hands many times over the five subsequent decades. First there was the pathetic, sniveling man—the Malfoy sycophant—who all but groveled at Tom’s feet (metaphorically, of course).

Next was the littlest Weasley, the redheaded girl who bored Tom to (again, metaphorical) death. He could only pretend to be interested in how Dean Thomas held the door open for her so many times before he wanted to bash his head into one of the walls.

(He tried, once. The parchment just ripped and left him with a nasty paper-cut on his forehead. Tom missed the red of blood. Now, he bled only black, dripping ink.)

Then, Harry Potter, the boy fated to defeat him, (or whatever) who turned out to be really quite sweet. As a last fuck you to whom he became in the future, Tom aided Harry in coming out to the littlest Weasley’s mother.

That’ll show Lord Voldemort, the dipshit, Tom thought gleefully.

Eventually though, even lovely Harry became more distant, his newly rediscovered godfather being the rightful center of his attention. Tom supposed he might have been jealous of the acquitted Black in another life, but after fifty years of loneliness he understood the yearning for living, breathing friends rather than just paper that writes back, as Little Weasley once called him.

Then, out of nowhere, came the Hufflepuff boy with a tin of watercolors and an eye for the overlooked.

The first thing this wondrous creature made for Tom was a little stone cottage, complete with a warm hearth, a garden of pumpkins and berries, and an idyllic curl of smoke from the chimney. The cottage sat near the edge of the forest, wonderfully secluded and alive.

Tom had watched as gentle sweeps of a brush, suspended in midair, created a home. One that existed in both the physical diary and the hellish paper prison Tom resided in.

Everything existed.

The warm, brown thatched roof, the colorfully patterned bedspread, and even a fireplace.

When the masterpiece was complete, Tom, although he would never admit it, gorged himself on the garden’s sweet huckleberries and sour raspberries. Afterward, he explored his new house, even going so far as to stick his hand into the flames of the fire.

(They weren’t real. They felt like nothing more than a faint warmth against his skin. Disappointing, Tom supposed. But probably a safety hazard.)

Then he curled up in the big bed, under the vibrant bedspread, and closed his eyes.

For the first time in fifty years, Tom slept.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Chapter Two

i need you all to know that the original title for this was “Tom Riddle is a man-whore(crux)??? (NOT CLICKBAIT)” so-

#harry potter #fuck jkr #hp #hp x male reader #x male reader #tom riddle #tmrhp #tom riddle x male reader #horcrux #no but seriously if tom didn’t hate muggle stuff so much i’d say that he could hit me with his car but yk he DOESNT OWN ONE #x reader #tom riddle x reader

[candyk0rn]

❧Their ideal date

So…it’s been a while !! My bad everyone 😔 good news? Requests are now up and running again!! It’s also my first time attempting to write for Jjk, so take this with that in mind

Thank you for bearing with me, but CandyK0rn is up and running once again!!

Warnings: None!

Included: Megumi Fushiguro, Itadori Yuuji, Kugisaki Nobara (separate.)

I. Yuuji:

You already know what time it is

Movie dates ALL the way

I wouldn’t say it would be a theater date, because just chilling at home (more specifically, in his dorm) sounds like such an upgrade from a stuffy movie theater

Though, he likes the popcorn better

If you dose off even a bit expect a flick on the forehead

Especially if it’s one of his favorites, or even a newer movie released to DVD neither of you have seen

Speaking of DVD, he prefers it over streaming any day

I’d say he even has his own collection

After having to sit through countless hours of movies for his training, there were some that stuck out to him that he’d wanna rewatch with you

He is the literal WORST when it comes to spoilers though

“That’s foreshadowing for the end! I won’t tell you how it ends, of course.”

…

“..Unless you wanna know?!”

His favorites tend to be action or horror

And if you tend to get squeamish with horror, well you just have the perfect shining knight in armor to help out, huh?

Even if you like horror, it wouldn’t hurt to stroke his ego a bit

Totally cuddles during the entire watch

It’s just a chaotic pile of you, him, snacks and blankets

Expect him to play with your hair if you’re laying on top of him, he just cannot help himself

Definitely not a fancy date by any means, but it’s these nights that he remembers most <3

K.Nobara:

Dear lord

Going out with this woman is a JOURNEY

Because shopping dates are her thing, especially if you spoil her with money from your pocket.

But it’s not just the ‘date’ itself, it’s the before and after of it all

Expect her to go through her entire makeup and attire routine alongside you, if that’s not your thing? You’re sure as hell watching.

She’ll talk your ear off as she does it too

“Oh! This is that new lipgloss I was telling you about..some influencer was using it. Isn’t it the perfect shade?!”

She doesn’t exactly say it, but she’s happy even if you just listen to her

It’s what makes her happy, and to have someone listen to her ramble on is a gift in itself

Then there’s the during, where you not only go to the local clothing, cosmetic and jewelry shops

But you have to try the snacks around these places!

She’s still getting used to Tokyo, and there’s just so many new things to try.

Oh! But you have to wait to eat it, because she has to take a picture of it first

Then you can dig in.

And of course, there’s the ‘after’

She likes just sitting down and unloading everything she bought, going through each item and talking about how excited she is about it

If you got new clothes, she expects a fashion show equal to that of vogue.

She cheers you on and takes pictures of you the entire time

With the flash on, of course.

It adds to the ‘paparazzi fantasy’ as she calls it.

F. Megumi:

Like Yuuji, he much prefers to stay inside just in the comfort of your dorm/home

But he knows that also gets repetitive, so he tries to take extra steps once in a while

His dates are simple,

Dinners, walks around the city, even training with you is something he enjoys

But there has to be a specific time for them

He likes taking you out to eat right after missions, like a way to calm down the stress everyone’s been feeling

He texts Yuuji for the best places nearby, because usually he grabs something quick from the Seven Eleven and calls it a night

Itadori: There’s a sweet katsu place I ate at yesterday

Gumi: that’ll be good. thanks again.

Itadori: Yk I’m the best wingman around. 😋

Gumi: mhm

And honestly? During the outing, he just likes talking.

It’s not something he’d say he necessarily enjoys

He’s never exactly been a talker

But for some reason he cannot explain, you make him want to just share things

How his day went, something Gojo did that he found annoying…

But more importantly, he likes listening

He likes the sound of your voice, he likes the way you sound when your passionate, he likes the way you sound when your angered or frustrated

God, he just likes you.

He never thought he would ever admit that. But here he is

Enjoying a conversation over tonkatsu with the person he cares for the most.

Thanks for reading!!

#it’s been a bit.. #x reader #fanfic #headcanons #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #Jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuji itadori #Itadori x reader #nobara kugisaki #Nobara x reader #megumi fushiguro #Megumi x reader #x y/n #gender neutral reader #fluff #candyk0rn talks #candyk0rn Jjk #where you go I go #fyp #for you page

[cuubism]

for @magnusbae

--

“Hob Gadling,” Dream says, and there’s a laugh deep in it, hidden in his eyes. “Am I to understand you’ve been engaging in petty theft?”

“I used to rob people on the road, and this surprises you?” says Hob, leaning against his kitchen counter. Then holds up a hand before Dream can respond. “Now, to be clear, my highwayman days are behind me. I’ve evolved. I’ve no interest in hurting people over riches. Also, would be bloody difficult to commit highway robbery nowadays.”

“I see you’ve thought it through,” says Dream from where he’s still lingering in the kitchen doorway. He clearly finds all of this highly amusing.

“I have, and rest assured, this theft was by no means petty. I’m pretty sure this is considered grand larceny.”

“Ah. I see it is no fun for you if decades of prison time are not on the line,” says Dream.

Hob winks at him. “Would you really let me go to prison for decades?”

Dream raises a haughty eyebrow. “I am your get-out-of-jail-free card?”

“Not getting caught is my get-out-of-jail-free card. You think I don’t know what I’m doing? You think I would do this for a lark without a plan?”

“Speaking frankly?” says Dream. “Yes.”

Hob laughs. “Alright, caught. But in my defense! It was for an important reason.”

Dream finally steps properly into the kitchen. “And what reason is that? I know you have no need for riches.”

“Wasn’t about need. Was only about charm. And getting in your good graces. And being the most irresistible and rakish boyfriend I can. Don’t think I didn’t see the way you looked at me at that first, portentous meeting.”

He lets Dream step in, closer and closer, like a predator with its prey. Doesn’t move. “You wish to give me the scrappy bandit I apparently so desired back then?”

“No apparently about it,” says Hob, and oh, it’s fun to be bold with Dream, now that he feels reasonably sure of not scaring him off. “But it’s okay, because I was even more weak for the prissy lord that you were. You know how much you could have gotten me to do if only you’d asked?”

Dream is standing right before him now, crowding him against the counter. His eyes gleam in the dark. “Does that include grand larceny?”

Hob laughs and lays his hands on his sides, feeling the taught realness of him, so much more dangerous than he’d thought of the lord he’d met in that tavern, and so much more glorious for it. “And more.”

He fishes the ruby from his pocket, letting it dangle on its long chain and catch the kitchen lights. He dips his head low as he holds it out to Dream. “A token of my affection. For my lord.”

Dream lets the gem fall into his palm, examining the fine cut of it. It doesn’t have the darkness, the strange angles of his now-broken dreamstone, but it’s still a gorgeous gem. Deep wine red, bottomless depths within the facets. Like Dream himself.

“A token?” He echoes, lips tugging up in a smile. “A courtly gift for one you have no need to court?”

“A small gift for one I am endlessly devoted to,” Hob says, and Dream’s eyes meet his again. There’s a smile in them, now, a real one. The gem is worth a bloody fortune, but Dream cares not for the monetary value of things. This is about the symbol, the game, the effort of it, and it seems it’s landed.

He does like pretty things, too. Hob knows it well.

“Put it on me, then,” Dream says.

He ducks his head for Hob to clasp the chain around the back of his neck. Hob kisses his forehead when he’s done.

The ruby sits against his breastbone, shining against the bare skin at the center of the deep vee in his shirt.

Hob squints. He could have sworn Dream was wearing something with more coverage when he arrived. “Did you… change your shirt?”

Dream smirks. “Perhaps. Such art requires its proper canvas.”

“Cheeky. You’re right, though.” Hob admires it on him, and sighs. So worth it.

Dream kisses his cheek, like they really are courting and he’s shyly accepting the gift. Hob takes hold of his face and pulls him into a proper one, one that’ll leave his lips as red as the gem. God, he better be able to convince Dream into wearing that and nothing else in bed. That sounds like a good way to die, if he ever were to choose one.

“How’d you find out about this, anyway?” he asks, letting his hands wander to Dream’s hair to keep him close.

“Matthew. He admitted that he helped you.” He doesn’t sound too upset about it, fortunately, for Matthew’s sake.

Hob sighs. “I tried to keep his involvement quiet. Blabbermouth.”

“He had fun, apparently,” says Dream wryly.

“Hope you won’t punish him too much.”

Dream smirks. “Just a little.”

“Going to punish me, then?” Hob says. It's meant to be challenging but he can’t keep the grin off his face.

Dream pushes him against the counter, hands pressed tight to his hips. “Hmm.” His voice rumbles through Hob’s body. His eyes are alight with fondness and danger both, and a shiver runs up Hob’s spine. “Just a little.”

#magnusbae #dreamling #dreamling fic #dream of the endless #hob gadling #my writing #1389 dreamling my beloved #thief hob my beloved

[fumifooms]

Thistle & Falin

Just my narrative of Thistle & Falin, collection of shippy thoughts and dynamic analysis. Creating some imagery and threads, etc. What if we both made devotion to our loved ones our purpose, what if we both hadn’t lived for ourselves in a long, long time. Who are we? Beyond who we love and our powers, what are we?

Background info: a short Falin analysis touching on Faligon and Thistle + an old thistlin post, compiling most of their moments. Here I delve into further thoughts but for base analysis of what they have in canon and in potential those are good starts. If you want I also have a full Falin analysis.

Disclaimer: Beyond the nebulous 1000 years I place Thistle as a young adult, and though I agree Falin mothers him to some degree I don’t think it’s unsimilar to the way that Marcille is a mom friend that sometimes mothers Falin and Izutsumi especially. Their relationship has layers like every other one in Dunmeshi, reducing it to being incestuously motherly or age discoursy to justify it being problematic is so funny to me, hello did you miss the mind control. Ah yes I love the 1090 yo with godlike powers being groomed by his chicken slave. You can have your own interpretation but canon is ambiguous enough, and dare I say intentionally ambiguous, that I have no qualms with not infantilizing Thistle, same with Yaad at the end of canon. I do ship Thistle and Falin, and although it’s in a nebulous qpr-or-other third secret thing situationship instead of conventionally romantic way, like, I puke on anything giving them a parental framing so don’t come shitting on my doorstep, kid-Thistle truthers be warned. Only nuance enjoyers allowed on this post. It’s valid if you’re uncomfortable with the ship!! Don’t make your issue others’ problem.

I thankfully finished my Falin analysis before posting this, but besides that I also have an analysis coming on the whole Thistle age thing which I think is interesting, beyond the well being poisoned there are things to explore there, idk in how long that’ll be done though. That’s all for plans that are relevant to this, now let’s get into it.

Part 1

So my favorite Falin things are Faligon + her sense of being like a pawn/misplaced, going on autopilot to follow the wishes of others, a feeling of identity being a burden and sort of fleeing from that, and her not really caring in the way/with the intensity that she’s "supposed" to (as per the points I go over in my Falin analysis). Meanwhile, Thistle has a lot of shit going on already but then there’s also how being a dungeon lord is highly wearing on his mind. As Faligon and as dungeon lord Thistle, the way they’re both so out of touch with reality in different ways holy shit?? They have power imbalance between them and it very much comes from mind control lol, but it’s also not something Thistle is fully aware of himself, because the powers are driving him unstable and he’s not even aware there’s someone in front of him really. He’s so out of it that he can’t even recognize that the dragon has been fused with a human and she’s so out of it we can’t even tell how conscious of her actions she is.

And then the interesting thing is that they’re kind of in it together… Mostly from Falin’s standpoint. We see that he does rely on the dragon increasingly so, hanging out with it, being saved by it and embraced by her etc. When he lets them both fall after breaking the web they were hanging from, he automatically, fully and wordlessly trusts her to catch him, instead of relying on magic or anything, and she does. Falin devotes herself to him but he’s devoted to The Cause which is just chasing ghosts at this point. But despite it all there’s a weird comfort here too… From the guy who in his last moment of lucidity reached out for someone, anyone’s hand, from the guy who hasn’t felt companionship in hundreds of years probably, hasn’t taken it slow and slept and eaten in who knows how long, from the girl who feels compelled to care after him like she’s always done with others… And the beast-ness allows her to have some freedom to figure herself out in a weird way, to simply enjoy being beside someone and doing anything her own whims tell her to.

It’s very destructive and weird and layered but like…. I can see the sliver where it works out. Where her kindness reaches him and he has a moment of lucidity where he sees her and it’s like, wait, who are you, you’re not the dragon?? Where finding someone else who feels just as messed up and devoted as them, like they’re just trudging along life like it’s a dream following their loved one, heals them a bit. Where caring for the other becomes a way to care for themselves too, a dark mirror of each other that shows you, oh, this is how bad it can get and I want to choose something else for myself actually. To grow to see the person standing in front of you, instead of only searching with your eyes in what way they’ll reflect on you. In helping each other, finding some companionship that’s weirdly vulnerable and self-healing. He gets her in touch with herself and her own needs again through the arc and conflict they have, and she gets him in touch with the world and his surroundings again. They have clashing ways to be selfless, very self-sacrificial from Falin meanwhike self-centered with Thistle (he ‘knows best’, ‘everything needs to be left to him’, etc etc, he needs the control, but he does it all for others, meanwhile Falin leaves that control to others and only grabs it for herself in exceptional cases like sacrificing herself to the dragon for Laios).

Like just let yourself be, damn!!! So then them being like, zombie mentally stunted babies kind of enhances that theme in a way too lol. The way they communicate together is very… Instinctive and basic, and I’d love to see how it could develop into a functional dynamic. They’re in ‘learning to be your own person’ kindergarten together to me. Thistle looking at her coloring wildly outside the lines and being like "you’re doing it wrong" and then you look at his and he colored everything a weird color. The precision is scary but then his crayon goes 1 mm out of the lines and he blows up into tears. Ok the metaphor has run its course

So yeah like the ship/brotp is very, them being isolated and against the world together and like… Slowly regaining their minds together. Getting their sense of identity grounded into them again. In my mind they have a 50k words adventure where they hang out and he slowly realizes there’s more to her than just dragon and she encourages him to dawdle around and eventually just play in water and shit and it’s like, starting to see life again beyond the laser focus you limited yourself to… And she’s allowed to just chill out and do whatever she wants besides the whole searching for Delgal thing. You can’t tie down a dragon! They are a duo they are an unit‼️ He’d have been fucked without her and at this point in time he sort of made her and he’s her world. Traumabonded kittens do not separate but it’s onesided in different ways haha. Honestly it’s sort of reflavored mickuro wait fuck…

If nothing else, they’re a very interesting dynamic to ponder. The depths of it all… I want to use them as a social experiment. I want them to stop to smell at the flowers and learn to work together… They’re master and servant they’re owner and pet they’re mothering and mothered (in a guardian hound way, in a mom friend way) they’re both incredibly (emotionally and physically) vulnerable in different ways…… Master and monster if you will. Mostly I see them as guardian & leader. Like I said I ship them but it’s not really romantic atp I think but it’s not quite qpr either it’s truly a weird secret third thing… What if we were sort of coworkers but also ?!!!>??????! You should hate me but you fiercely protect me I should appreciate you but I only see you as a tool WHAT IS GOING ONNN IN THERE

He wants to be protected even if he can’t really admit it. Here the catalyst was emotional distress moreso than physical threat. Notice how he lays there under her wing for a bit as he (refuses to) processes what Mithrun told him about Delgal dying and betraying him. She’s becoming his safety net, his comfort hound. Somehow, the both of them find they’re soothed in each other’s presence.

It kills me. Them being so toxic at the start of it, then somehow ambiguously just hinting towards how things could have went on to be better, could have been headed somewhere nice and healing and healthier, she dies and he dies everyone fucking dies and they forget each other and it ends there they never speak of each other again. Canon wanted me dead specifically. Like remember too that I was there when the last chapters where being released, my ass really was like "Oh I wonder how Falin will react seeing Thistle after being revived!" 🤡 But yess at least that means there’s a lot of Unsaid, a lot of space for speculation, and I want to see what could have been. I want to see it so so bad. It’s so interesting

Post-canon is also so interesting, where they’re sort of recovered but not fully not really, them actually getting to know each other… And she doesn’t remember him but he doesn’t remember her either, in a way they’ve never met even though they have, even though she was the first one on his side since so long, the first hint of companionship he’s had, companionship that he’s so unused to getting that he can’t even recognize it for what it is. He couldn’t even recognize a human standing in front of him!! He is so disconnected from others and the world!! He spoke to ghosts like they had no worries in the world and everyone was ok!! He’s out of touch, tone-deaf af!! Has always been tone-deaf!! Being tone-deaf when he was younger, a stick in the mud, caused him to be more isolated than he already was… Autism4autism, anyways—

It’s them not knowing why or how to express it but being drawn together, a bond forged together by the fire of circumstances and coincidences— or is it only that? No one can know for certain but there’s a grip they have on each other there somehow. Weird distant caring thing. I dont know who you are but I feel like I should know you

It’s like my headcanon that she doesn’t know why, but on her travels she feels something when she comes across wild thistle flowers… There are just faint remnants, whispers of feelings like ghosts.

They should be remnants in each other’s lives. A deja vu of a person in the way Falin hugs small dolls to her chest, or how Thistle reminisces of something when he sees bird feathers discarded on the ground. < This paragraph courtesy of @cabinette’s huge brain

He canonically writes poems btw… Poems would be such a good way for him to get in touch with himself again post-canon, find desires in again and get creative fulfillment. He should make poems about her. To explore and vent and express all the vague feelings and memories he has, both those of during canon and after canon. He doesn’t remember her but he remembers her, slivers of kind eyes and warm gentle hands and healing magic like a blanket…

Yaad, an unlicensed therapist but the best you're gonna get in fantasy land: Maybe you should try journaling.

And too the thing is their relationship with each other in a way is ONLY about themselves, even when Falin is being self-sacrifical it’s less about him and more about how she generally is, that sort of instinct to latch onto someone and just follow along with whatever they do and ask, meanwhile to Thistle she’s only ever been a factor in his plans. Idk idk them getting to that point where they see and know each other, stumbling into that through canon or actively working towards it post-canon, there’s weird beauty in that Like. Thistle cares about her because he’ll take anyone as long as they fit the job description well enough, he’s desperate to find Delgal and will grasp at straws to find him. In a similar way that he’ll reach for someone, anyone’s hand on the verge of death, she seeks to protect someone, anyone. That’s how she centers herself, makes someone her compass and her world. Falin wants to protect someone and Thistle would use anyone, pushed to the states they were in they would latch onto anyone for comfort (caring for him, grabbing Marcille’s hand).

Mirrors truly truly. And Thistle likes to shatter those, and silence anyone who tries to talk to him about reality, so then the option left is to be by him quietly and subtly gradually, gently (her specialty) nudge him in the right direction … Nooo but actually why did he shatter those mirrors. Very interesting to think about. Would seeing himself in others anger him?

I like to call him a ghost of who he was sometimes, a ghost of the past, he’s so haunted, and I think there’s fun imagery there too. The care she offers Thistle somewhat reminds me of the one she offers ghosts. I wonder if part of it is that she sees herself in ghosts, that she wants to offer them freedom and peace of mind she can’t get for herself.

And of course meanwhile on her end, the thistlin arc is also about growing self-respect. I don’t want to see Thistle as a lost cause in saying that her efforts are wasted on him, but being so permissive and invested in him is obviously not healthy for her. She needs to learn when to put her foot down

Oooh, just realized that choosing to eat in this scene was a big character moment all things considered. By eating she faltered in her task, stood up for herself and her needs, was selfish for once (/positive go get your damn food girl). She chose to eat. Anyways

I bet he’s the one who healed her wounds after the Shuro party fight. And on that note— it’s interesting he could change her form from Falin to Faligon without touching her isn’t it? Healing by everyone else like Marcille and Falin always required touch, physical contact between the healer and healee, which some like Chilchuck say is a negative, but… The dungeon lord not needing to touch to heal makes a nice metaphor for how isolating the powers are I think. Truly clinical instead of warm. Theme of community and freely offering affection in Dungeon Meshi etc etc. Like I said, Thistle is out of touch.

The way that he has the powers to change her form and heal and like soo much magic power but he can’t even realize when he’s hurting himself and she’s the one who has to heal him. He’s so fully devoted to the cause even when he acts selfishly that he neglects himself too, and she has to remind him to take care of himself, to eat, etc. That she feeds him. Eating is an act of love to yourself and to life. The berries, the curry, the soup that Thistle refuses to eat—

Do you see the vision. Do you see all the narrative relevance and themes and parallels of their dynamic. To chase ghosts, to cling onto them so they stay with you no matter how warped and ugly they get, and to soothe souls, purifying them and helping them depart for the afterlife… Both magic prodigies whose lives revolve around protecting and caring after their loved ones more than anything else. A family member who looks elsewhere while they are their whole world. They can flee their emotional issues together 🤝 Who are we? Beyond who we love and our power, what are we? I think about the way she cradled him in her arms just before they fell down into the dungeon all the time idk idk

^ End notes from the one fic I wrote about them so far: Slivers, on AO3. For a moment, they were both slivers of themselves, bound together.

Thistle feverishly holding onto ghosts of the past and his source of power, meanwhile Falin cradles the people she can protect in the now with the powers that reside in her… Him cradling his book, her cradling her master……… Parallels

Interlude

And yess it’s important to remember too, Thistle became a mage only after delgal asked… He had innate talent, but moreso than Falin it’s through studies that he learned to actually harness his magic etc. Idk I think it’s an interesting parallel that could have interesting stuff be done on it. People often characterize him as predominantly bratty but. He’s smart and composed he’s mainly smart and composed… He’s unstable and everything during canon was happening all at once with the winged lion being freed and Laios’ party and the canaries and agh </3 He can have a meltdown as a treat he’s smart and cool-headed if it wasn’t for the dungeon wearing on his mind ok… Obvi I love my chars with anger issues but saying he’s overly childish is having tunnel vision I think

Ok so the elephant in the room… First of all how present is Falin in Falugon exactly…… We have no clue. The end sequence does show her in purgatory with a dragon foot holding her down, which can easily be read as it suppressing her personality- with how it’s shown though it feels like she’d be fully suppressed by that? And we know that’s not the case, since not only does she recognize Laios and calls out to him, she hesitates to hurt Kuro because of the dog association, she’s excessively kind towards Thistle, the latter which her Adventurer’s Bible profile confirm to be "her kind nature remaining as the chimera". Maybe it’s a dream-like state? Maybe the dragon is the driving force with the instincts, and it’s only bits of Falin and her personality that show through? A state of mind very primal and not very think-y, even if Falin has enough brains to think of sharing the berries, gesturing and oh- of course, casting magic. No issues with controlling the human half of her body as well. To some degree, her and the dragon are working in tandem. My own preferred interpretation is the driven by instincts one, a state of mind like an actual dragon’s, which in my Falin analysis I delve into the significance of it for other parts of Dunmeshi too. So yeah, dreamlike mindless autopilot… I think exploring her pov as Faligon would go super hard. Aware of her surroundings but sort of disconnected with it, and disconnected from herself too, entirely living in the present… And like with her talking to Laios— the only time she speaks in her chimera form, a simple observation, "Laios, brother", sometimes her human thoughts peek through more sharply, short moments of lucidity… I think it’d be interesting to see an arc where as the chimera, she learns to share the "brainspace" more with the dragon.

It’s also unclear if Thistle had a say in how much of ‘Falin the human’ is in control? He very well might have suppressed her somehow when he changed her form to be more dragonlike. That might also be due to just getting back the dragon meat though— and the dragon meat itself might be why/how the brainspace is shared. There is a lot less of Falin’s body in the chimera than there is of the dragon, body mass wise. Dungeon Meshi is a lot about physicality so I wouldn’t be surprised with this reasoning. But there’s the whole mind control soul bond situation too…

The mind bond is another thing that’s left mostly to interpretation when it comes to the details. She feels compelled to listen to the dungeon lord’s orders as a monster created and owned by it, like the dragons Thistle summoned during the fight at his house, but again like we see with the dragons, if the monster has a "strong will" it can disobey to some level without being punished by the bind or anything. The eyes of the magician, the small wyverns, level-of-control wise can’t be accurate examples because they’re sort of like familiars, Thistle can see through their eyes in real time no matter where they are but it’s only this species as far as we know. So otherwise the mind bond is more subtle… There’s also the question of how much the control is shared between the dungeon lord and the demon, which again Thistle’s situation is exceptional because he managed to seal his demon in a book, presumably all the power goes through Thistle without the intermediate of the winged lion, though we do see he has some reach since he reaches Laios through his dreams. ANYWAYS all that to say. I do really ponder about how a dungeon lord's monsters get their orders, like... For the fight on the first floor, did Falin just feel Thistle's agony in her bones and came clawing and barging her way in desperately and angrily to protect him because of his distress, or did he more directly demand she come, consciously or not?! Idk, since Falin is actively protective of him unlike the dragons who reluctantly listen to him, her being very fast and intense about it doesn’t have to be forced… It’d be interesting if she can sense his feelings, wants or thoughts, bc I don’t think it’s as conscious as like, telepathically communicating "hey you, do this"…? Pondering, pondering. Mind bond <3 Soulbound <3

They’re both very trapped in the past… I wonder if as Faligon a lot of her mind goes back to memories of Laios and such, if she’s in a dreamlike state and not just sort of absent, where would her mind retreat... I don’t think so like I said I think she’s mostly driven by dragonlike mindlessness, but still… Thistle stuck in the search of Delgal, thinking back to everything they’ve shared and where it all went wrong obsessively, and Falin, sort of larping that she’s still beside Laios, not unlike how Thistle treats having the corpses of the royal family at his house like them being safe. Delusions. Idk I just want more character studies.

The metaphors in this truly… It’s not literal, like def not something that happens during canon at no point are they or could be ever atop a mountain of frames and paintings of the Golden Kingdom’s royal family and fine art lmaoo, so then like the meaning behind it all… She offers him reprieve, an outsider from all the Golden Kingdom expectations and drama, just someone warm to lean on, someone who’ll stay…….. I love Faligon pushing him to rest and nap so much. Man has first nap in a thousand years. Feather duvet like a nice warm pillow. The peace she offers him man……. Live in the present bbygirl Unfortunately it doesn't help. Look at them eyebags… Man needs to sleep!!

Part 2

^ This panels drives me crazy It’s the possessivity. It’s the "my". It’s the "stealing".

What if you have fear of abandonment and think you have to prove your worth for people to stay by your side. What if belonging to someone makes you feel like you belong and you feel loved and soothed by it lowkey, feel like it makes things easy. What if I was bought as a slave and servant but I was adopted into a pretty loving family. What if ownership is what love looks like to me. What if that’s why I have no problem rationalizing keeping people against their will in a glorified kingdom-prison, because that’s just what someone with the power who Knows Better does, and… Did he always call her his dragon hello? Feelings

He is not letting it go damn He hates when people mess with what's his. Or Delgal’s.

But imagine. The dragon is like, the last thing he has. The Golden Kingdom has moved on from him, everything is shit, but his dragon is the last thing he still has some realm of like. Ownership over. But that ownership is kinda just his sense of belonging. His role, his duty.  So it’s like "Don’t steal the last thing I have" especially if post-canon… It’s thinking from his time as a jester bought into a loving family that ownership is natural in love and care. It’s thinking that’s the way you get to belong beside someone, beside earning that through achievements and being useful and capable. Everything is being stolen away from him. Control and things and people and even the importance he has to the Golden Kingdom as he becomes part of the background & past history and the kingdom switches into new hands aka Laios’…

My dragon, not the dragon. I do like to imagine especially after the berries he’s starting to feel differently about her. He keeps being like "you’re acting odd, dragon". His dragon is special. She’s not just another regular monster npc to easily replace, there’s human contact in there. His dragon just for him. <3

I do think Falin has some issues with like, asking to be with the people she loves, feeling safe in asking for that, that she’s worth that. She follows them and is quiet and just takes the crumbs of love that they offer, she doesn’t ask Marcille at the academy to spend lunches with her, doesn’t ask anything of her distant busy father and ill anxious mother… The person she did ask things of, Laios, who she always asked to go travel the world with him and whatnot, left her behind. Like how Delgal left Thistle. Theme of leaving </3 theme of family and abandonment issues </3 So she just follows and cares after them and makes herself useful and is grateful she gets to be beside them at all. So yeah what I’m saying is being owned/belonging to someone might feel yeah like, belonging. Being One Person's. He’s seen her at her worst and most bloody and raw, and still wants her? Very comforting And especially post-canon he doesn’t need her to be witty or useful or such, he just needs her love and that’s what she has lots to give.

Do you think Falin wants to be needed… Do you think she’s a little restless if she doesn’t feel like she is, like she thinks just like Laios people might leave you behind and you never see them again.  It’s also because of what she said, that she put others before herself, that she just followed/imprinted on her parents/Laios/Marcille. She avoided conflict, she wanted to be liked and live in peace. The only times she was selfish, she hurt people (left school for Laios, sacrificed herself for them, teleported them out despite possibly hurting people on the surface), so she chooses to be selfless instead. "One of the most selfish things i've ever done was barely even for the sake of myself" - Falin and Toshiro both hah Falin is often told she doesn’t care the right way or not enough, you’re cutting classes Falin, I’m upset you left me and you don’t even seem to think it’s a big deal Falin, you shouldn’t have sacrificed yourself to save me (her not noticing her ostracization in her village wasn’t told to her but I’m including it also). And with Toshiro when considering her proposal, she was worried to accept because yeah it’s have been convenient but she wouldn’t be reciprocating his feelings in the way he wants and expected her to with what he asked of her… And she’s worried it wouldn’t be right… Bc she doesn’t care about the proposal on the same level he does….. I just think that’s neat I think that Falin caring both too little and too much, with laser focus on Laios & Marcille neglecting even herself, is a big part of her. She focuses on others and their emotional needs so so much always, babygirl be selfish for a while…

Thistle’s interaction with Laios is interesting too, especiaoly when Kaios heals him. How he looks at his shoulder, surprised and confused… Guy who's used to not having his personal needs met because he's so busy doing everything for the people he cares about receives care??? Woah that’s crazy Something something being so unused to human contact and affection that you don’t know how to process it and don’t recognize it when it happens/stares you right in the face. Thistle the Toudens are gonna make you open up ur heart to humans again on god…

What if… He doesn’t want to admit she’s not the dragon. If he admits it’s not the dragon that means giving up some control… This was not in his plan, he doesn’t know how well he can control a chimera rather than a dragon, it’s weakness it’s vulnerability it’s feeling like he’s losing his grip on everything again and thus losing his place and purpose. Hmm…

Finding yourself through someone else… Because defining yourself through others is what you’ve always done… Yeah. Yeah.

I do love it tying into Falin’s arc of finding herself. Like, she doesn’t remember her time as a chimera, she just remembers this guy she has conflicted but fond feelings of for some reason, so say if they travel post-canon, traveling with him would also be a way to figure out more how she’s feeling, and then there’s how when looking at him she gets the feeling that it’s been a long time he hasn’t lived for himself either… And like for him traveling is about seeing the world a bit too. Seeing it not as something to control or always dangerous but something to explore, and just enjoy the little things instead of worrying about the court. And just. Aghhhh. He hasn’t had someone on his side for centuries. Sighs. Of course Yaad also becomes that largely but traveling post-canon with Falin… Would love to see that in fancontent

Them growing to SEE each other, with the film in front of their eyes slowly fading away. Both of them coming out of it more genuine than they’d been even before meeting, before becoming warped, growing more comfortable in their skin and with the thought of connecting with others. It’s the mutual care <33 it’s having been on each other’s side at both your ugliest <3 Unconventional caring...

Toshiro saying "you can’t tie down a dragon" is always so good… Someone should so do stuff with that. "But you can tame it" / "I tried to once" / "but she chose to stay with me anyways"… Musical theme of How to Train your Dragon starts playing in the distance

When/after they get together, I feel like their relationship isn’t something they like to label… If anything it’s like. Partner. Or calling each other by name… Him calling her my dragon, except now it’s warm and personal would be so. Aughh <3 But then that just also makes the first time he calls her by name so huge.

Conclusion

They and their relationship is weird and unusual but that’s just how they are, and how they need to accept themselves (again: as they are) and roll with it! And make a place in the world for them anyways!

Magic forced them to be vulnerable in front of each other but it’s them who have to like… Be pushed out of their passivity and do something with that vulnerability.

BROTHERSSS THEY’RE BOTH ALL ABOUT BROTHERS. LEAVING. OUT OF TOUCH WITH REALITY. OUT OF TOUCH WITH THEMSELVES AND THEIR OWN IDENTITY. In a twisted way only the other would understand what it’s like.

Thistlin is so crazy, in humanizing you it humanizes me, in recognizing you for what you are I get more back in touch with the world again.

Flighted birds have hollow bones. With freedom there are risks and drawbacks. Thistle was Falin’s.

It’s not everyday you can have a ship where both characters are out of touch with reality and others and themselves and have this weird almost innate bond of her being compelled to protect him and care for him and him holding onto that unknowingly… Even if he didn’t need to, keeping her by himself and sitting on her while he plans and has a panic attack….. And also he owns her and robbed her of her freedom & body & full mind but she still wuvs him. Weird intimacy with the guy who horrifically changed you into something else, and yet is not even aware he has done it.

Falin loves nature and Thistle is named after a flower… Her post-canon coming across wild thistles and feeling a rush of fondness and she doesn’t know why… Thistles have thorns, but they taste sweet. Just gotta peel them off and enjoys the sweet taste of it once it’s open <3 Eat it like them honeysuckles

Slice of life 40k words thistlin sitcom I need you. Don’t make me write it myself. Sob

You are so so close sweetie…

wutiwant

I don't know what I want But I know it's not this These words don't mean nothing Once they left my lips More awake inside of my dreams Was that really you, next to me? Give me what I want, who am I supposed to please? Who am I supposed to please? Who am I? Who am I? I? Give me what I want Give me what I want

Some links, since the pair is small enough that finding stuff for them can be hard: Falin & Thistle search on pixiv Falin & Thistle search on danbooru Ao3: Thistle x Falin, Thistle & Falin

My own spotify playlists: Thistle & Falin, Thistle, Falin

source v

#Early thistle my beloved #Qpr or romo who knows Thistle has a job so he don’t really care about that rn #They’re only allowed to send each other mind waves and feed each other’s deep seated loneliness in ways neither can express #Like how do u even begin talking about these two damn. Sighhh. Looking wistfully out my window #Fumi rambles #Thistle #falin touden #thistlin #falisle #Maybe lol #thistle x falin #A buddy said they’re like ghibli romance and then my mind got consumed by a spirited away au for them #Sissel #Dunmeshi rarepairs #Analysis #Like I often say I love to explore a character through a relationship and for Thistle that’s Falin to me #The arc of it all… “are you even a dragon or what’ you’ve been acting strange since you changed forms” progress omg…. You are so close #Making castles out of the building blocks canon gave us #They’re both devoted body and soul to their brothers like augh. They both drive themselves into the ground for them #This is really just a collection of thoughts and i repeat myself a lil. The structure of this is so shite feel free to just skim or whateve #Their lives are centered around otherssss i can’t get over it #Psspspsps thistlin fans come you are sweet now my sweet child. If anyone wants 5.5k words of thistlin meta here u go #Happy 1 year in the dunmeshi fandom to me. Going back to my roots #Spoilers

[purity-in-blood]

On Your Knees For Salvation

Minors don’t interact! This is 18+ and I beg of you to heed the warnings

Notes-I got a very, very carried away but this was such a blast to write! There were so many routes I could go with this particular scene. Either way I really hope you like it! If there’s anything else you’d want me to write based on the shooting don’t hesitate to send it in.

Tate Langdon x female reader

Trigger warnings: Heavy mention of school shooting, mention of religion (derogatory), foul language, forced worship, superiority/God complex, authoritative kink, dacryphilia, degradation, choking, biting, rape/non-con, loss of virginity, voyeurism, blood kink, gun play, slight knife play, throat fucking, boot worship, dumbification

Tate Langdon walked through the halls of Westfield with practically a bounce in his step. He knew all too well the stares he’s currently getting will soon transform into terror once it’s the right time. For the past 6 weeks he’s fantasized about this very moment and played around with every scenario imaginable. In his mind, this will kickstart a revolution that’ll help purify the world plagued with sinners and a controlling government. Today is one Tate wholeheartedly looked forward to—a cool autumn day that’s perfect for hiding a gun under a trenchcoat, worn many times already with this uniform.

He began shooting in one of the hallways closest to the cafeteria so they didn’t have a clear exit from there. With each shot he relished in the way there’s always a different reaction—a scream, cursing, trying to keep running which only prompted a second bullet to enter. Tate deliberately steps on a wounded student while moving through the carnage, he noticed them crawling and thought to place a boot onto their back, keeping them in place. He took aim at their neck before pulling the trigger even as they tried pleading. The blood splatter wasn’t unwelcome in the slightest, he sucked in a breath and continued walking as the sight and smell of crimson threatened to overwhelm him. Pools of blood, binders and parts of flesh were scattered as well in a way that all seemed like a horror movie set. He violently kicked at a binder in his way and send papers all over, laughing at how everything so easy fell into place. This was only the start of his wrath on those he deemed unclean. Tate had this hunch you’d be hiding studying in the library today so that’s his next destination. There’s no rush after all.

Today I was with my one of best friends, Stephanie, studying for some upcoming English test we forgot about last night. The session together went smoothly until there was this strange popping noise. It made studying far more difficult once tension spread throughout the room an hour later.

I heard what was happening before realizing the dire situation as the entire school ran through the hallway. Screaming was soon accompanied by gunshots which immediately sent me into fight or flight as a student burst through the door. Everyone turned their head as he barricaded it with one of the heavy chairs. I recognize him, Kevin, a childhood friend I’m close with to this day.

“Somebody’s shooting up the school! He’s just shooting people.”

It was like the air had been absorbed from my lungs. My first thought is to run toward him and check if he’s been shot. There’s a noticeable amount of blood on his shirt and skin, black hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. But thankfully there didn’t seem to be any visible flesh wounds.

“Do….do you know who it is?”

I fidgeted with the pendant at my neck, the only symbol of my faith that’s on me at all times. I don’t go to services regularly but that didn’t mean I was banned from praying. I’m pleading to our Lord to protect us from the shooter. Silently begging for this nightmare to end as quickly as it started. I hoped against all odds someone heard.

“I-I don’t know. I couldn’t get a good look at his face. He just…shot Mark Kingston right in front of me, blew his brains out.”

The description alone made my stomach churn but it couldn’t compare to what Kevin must’ve seen. He then grabbed my arm as Stephanie joined us behind the very last row of bookshelves. If need be, we might have a chance at scrambling for the tables closest to our current spot.

The three of us held our breath as each shot rang louder and the barricade rattled violently. Over and over the shooter tried to enter. Every kick was with more vigor than the last, making the hair on my neck stand on end. At last, the chair is sent across the room with such force—smashing into the librarian's desk and scattering everything on it to the ground—that everyone cried out before silence settled once more.

The door slowly opens and we get a full view of the shooter. He’s in all black, holding a shotgun in both hands but the thing that chills me to the bone is the cheerful tune he’s whistling. It’s one I’ve heard multiple times in the hallway enough to where I could whistle it myself from memory. I would’ve found it endearing but now it’s as if death taunts us.

He starts from the opposite side of the library but that doesn’t make things any better. Even if we could run for the exit it wasn’t likely we’d make it out alive. He shot Kyle, the lead jock, who curled himself into a ball under a table while begging for his life. Even though I should be looking away my eyes were glued on the horrors unfolding.

There’s another gunshot but clearly the next victim wasn’t dead. Melissa had started crying which only seemed to amuse Tate. He looks down at her with contempt like she was an insect he wished to crush. My hand went to my necklace and I lowered my head in prayer when he finally spoke.

“Quit your bitching! It’s not like I hit a vital organ or anything.”

He then moved onto his new victims, 2 frightened girls who somehow got the same shotgun blast—they were hugging tightly when he fired. The smallest—Cassidy—flew backwards from the impact as the other gasped in pain. He lifted Aileen’s chin with the barrel and her lips parted as if to speak. His other hand went to her cheek to thumb away a tear before lowering close.

“You must understand I’m taking all of you somewhere safe. This isn’t just about revenge. I prepared for this noble war.”

Tate brushed his lips against hers so gently they could be mistaken for lovers despite the circumstances. Luckily for her, the trigger wasn’t pulled and he backed off. Once he’s out of sight Aileen brought her knees up and curled in on herself. Trying to block out everything going on.

Tate resumed whistling as he casually walked among the shelves but we hurried toward the table when he was distracted. Although I was last to move. Stephanie clung to me while I attempted to comfort her and Kevin tried shielding us the best he could.

Somehow, it appears he’s looking for a specific person from how calm he is.

Another crying girl caught his attention and he didn’t hold back—once near her table, Tate kicked a chair and crouched in order to get a direct angle of her. They’re now face to face. Tate’s balancing his weight on the balls of his feet while holding the shotgun level to her heart. She started begging, mentioning a desire to go home as he leaned even closer. Yet again he showed tenderness toward a victim by brushing tears away, cupping her cheek. He’s staring at the girl almost with pity.

“I’m taking you to salvation. Are you ready to be set free?”

She managed to choke out a “Yes”—likely hoping to appease the shooter—which prompted him to lick his lips before firing. There’s a spray of blood and a ragged hole where her heart had been. He cursed under his breath and stepped over her crumpled body, deliberately placing one foot after the other into her open wound. Such a display almost made me gag.

“Oh God. Why is this happening?”

Stephanie whispered close to my ear and I gave her a gentle squeeze. This close, I felt her heart racing against my own chest. There wasn’t an explanation for any of this besides bullying. Or maybe it was something related to his home situation. I knew their household is dysfunctional but I hadn’t once thought of that being the cause of murderous intent.

Simon, the first to be injured, was attempting to call for help. Tate immediately changed direction, leaving bloody footprints as he did so toward the librarian’s desk—nearest to the exit—where the boy lay with his hand crushed underneath a computer.

“Sure. I’ll help you.”

He said it nonchalantly and with a smile like there’s plenty of time to be had. The shotgun is pointed straight at his jaw before the shells rip through him. Blood paints the wall after Simon goes limp and Tate calmly wipes at his face to remove the splatter.

“His face! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Aileen was sobbing hysterically now but is paid no mind. He moved back to the rows of bookshelves and started violently knocking books off in an attempt to scare anyone from their hiding place. The few shots were far closer than expected and we huddled together in the cramped space. Expecting to be shot then and there.

“Pathetic bitch. Get up!”

There's a sound of hurried footsteps and struggling, at first I thought he went over and grabbed Aileen. Until the female spoke. It was one of the injured cheerleaders, Melissa, who I didn’t know all that well but I’m aware of the fact she isn’t afraid of speaking her mind. I both admire that courage and fear for her in this moment.

“That’s enough Tate! You’re not saving anyone by shooting up the school. Honestly, this is the most obvious cry for help I’ve ever seen. I almost feel sorry for you.”

“You think I’ve done enough? I’m just getting started! Well that’s cute, at least I don’t feel the need to vomit after a big meal. I also know you’re the sluttiest cheerleader we have. I’m doing something that should’ve happened a long time ago. You know, I’d make you pleasure me but I have someone…more pure I’ve had my eye on.”

I could hear the smile in his voice when saying that last sentence and it nearly froze my blood. Surely he didn’t mean who I thought. There’s a thud, a gasp from Melissa that almost sounds like choking and then his boots are the only noise heard.

Suddenly, he turned on his heels and it felt like my heart dropped into my stomach when I saw his bloodstained combat boots appear in front of me. Tate Langdon knelt so we’re eye level, it’s disturbing how slowly he did so and the fact his gun is placed over his thighs. Just from body language it was easy to see the enjoyment he got from this.

“I’ve got one question for you, doll. Do you believe in God?”

That voice, oh that voice is dripping with a type of gentleness Tate rarely shows to anyone. It made bile further rise in my throat when he jabs at my religion. The answer is as clear as day since he asked what rested at my throat during prom. It’s likely he just wanted to see me squirm.

“No. I-I don’t kno—yes. Yes, I—“

I couldn’t understand why I tried appeasing this demon in human form. Though it seemed he waited for me to say “yes” before yanking me—by the throat—from my friends’ arms. Someone grabbed at my legs and monetarily played tug of war as I thrashed. Trying to get myself out of his iron grip but it proved useless. I begged, kicked and screamed as he dragged me to some tables. But it didn’t faze him in the slightest.

“Why huh?”

He dropped me so I’m flat on my ass. I looked up while Tate reloaded his weapon, placing the shells between his teeth and flashing me a smile. This sadistic, dominant side is one I never imagined a boy like him to have. But maybe you can’t truly know someone until moments like these. He’s quick to cock his gun with a smirk, waiting for my answer.

“Because my parents raised me that way…”

“Why don’t you show me then? Start cleaning my boots. Show your devotion.”

My heart beat like a hummingbird and I was afraid it might burst through my chest. However, if it’s my time to die then so be it.

I sank to my knees in front of him once he leaned onto the table and lifted a boot toward my face. My stomach is in knots as I carefully sweep my tongue over the sole, into each crevice there may be drying blood. Even the leather on its entirety got a nice touch up. I didn’t stop until I knew there’s not a speck of blood or dirt left and I repeated this until Tate’s other boot was like the first. By then, all I could taste is blood and whatever filth was on the bottom. I mutter one last prayer under the disguise of wiping my lips, attempting to scoot back.

He grabbed for the collar of my shirt and hauled me up so my feet dangle inches off the ground. Those dark eyes of his are so dilated that the brown is almost nonexistent. I can even see my reflection in them and it confirms my assumption of being caught by the Devil.

“He won’t be able to save you. I’m right here, I am your God. Aren’t good girls supposed to be on their knees for their savior when praying?”

“Shut up Tate! You don’t know anything about religion and you certainly don’t know mine!”

That’s when I moved faster than he’s able to comprehend, my feet shot out and struck between his legs, that certainly got a reaction of cursing and dropping me once again.

I immediately went for the shotgun, trying to tear it from his grasp but he whipped it upward right when I had the advantage. It struck my jaw with such force teeth rattled and I feared some would fall out. Tears filled my eyes but I stayed defiant, rushing toward him again but this time he landed a blow to my head. Before I knew what happened, I’m dizzily lifting my head to see Tate executing yet another classmate then heading my way. Boots thudding with each step.

His attitude is on full display by kicking a chair forward, sitting right in front of me. I’m muttering prayers once the overwhelming dizziness goes down enough to where I form coherent thought. I gasp and try prying the hand pulling me on my knees but soon realize metal at my temple.

“Hey Kevin. Did you know your little girlfriend is a filthy cock slut? She’s given me blowjobs in the bathroom more than once. Hopefully she didn’t kiss you on the lips afterwards.”

I glanced at Kevin who’s staring at Tate with such rage that if looks could kill, he would be dead already. Tate however, appears rather smug at the reaction and to further prove his point starts undoing his belt. My face paled at the realization and I settled my eyes on the man currently leaned over me. The grip on my hair tightened once I turned my face away, trying to get as much distance as possible.

“Oh don’t tell me. You’re shy to suck me off in front of your boyfriend but not when it’s just us? And here I thought an audience would only arouse you more.”

Tate forced my head downward but even then I wouldn’t allow him entrance. His anger surges and he’s off the chair in a second to push his pants further down. Fully revealing his hardened cock in all its glory. Tate found this situation quite amusing, especially since the girl below him proved unwilling. It only turns him on even more knowing she didn’t want this too.

“Open your mouth, slut. Or would you prefer to have it blown off like his?”

The barrel traces the line tears had gone and stopped right under my chin, in the exact spot where Simon was blown away. I really couldn’t say no or else he’d end my life. Reluctantly, I licked my lips to moisten them, opened my mouth and he immediately slipped inside.

His gun returned to my forehead as a constant reminder that at any moment he could pull the trigger. He’s enjoying every second of this and there wasn’t anything we could do to stop him.

Tate bobs my head along his dick in such a way that each thrust makes me gag. It wasn’t much different from our time in the bathroom but at this moment he didn’t make sure I’m comfortable. Sometimes, Tate would ask if I needed a break or if he should slow down. But this is relentless. My already aching jaw felt as if it might snap at any moment but otherwise I relaxed as much as possible. Every movement of Tate’s hips forced me to take every inch of his thick cock. My tongue moved across shaft to tip, hoping to seem genuine in my effort to please. I felt the barrel slide roughly against my hair as he let out a sigh.

“You go down just like Holy Mary but this time I’m not on a cross. And you won’t be a virgin for much longer, little miss Mary.”

From that insulting comment I dug my fingernails into his thighs hard enough until Tate yanked my head back, getting a better angle that allowed him even deeper. His tip continues hitting the back of my throat with every thrust and I traced each vein with my tongue, fighting the urge to bite him. The only noise in the room was of me sucking him off. No matter the humiliation I kept my eyes on him even as tears distort his face.

I could feel the oncoming orgasm from the way his pace became uneven and it wasn’t long until he shot a load down my throat. After swallowing each drop, he pulled me off and it was a relief having air back in my lungs. The first few breaths I managed were coughs, my throat felt sore and uncomfortable from what occurred.

The fight in me hadn’t vanished so easily.

When Tate glanced arrogantly—for a few minutes too long—at Kevin I grabbed the nearest book and slammed it into his face. It seems I caught him entirely off guard and that mistake is all I needed. He threw his gun on the table and was about to lunge forward.

I suddenly had a burst of confidence, practically throwing myself over the table to grab it before Tate could. I avoided his grasp and backed away, my hands shaking while I lifted the heavy firearm and aimed at his heart.

“My patience is wearing thin. Doll.”

He quickly advanced on me and didn’t hesitate to press his heaving chest against his own weapon. His hand went for the middle then to mine upon seeing my confidence quickly waver, my finger soon slipped from the trigger. God damn it, I wouldn’t be any better than Tate if I did this.

I took in his appearance, bloody-faced from a possibly broken nose and those eyes burned into mine. He’s completely different from the boy I met on my first day of school. The person before me is tuned for the hunt.

“Tate please—“

We’re toe to toe but it’s clear he’s using our height difference to intimidate. I’m pinned between him and the wooden table without a way of escaping. It was my fault after all but either way I had no choice.

“It’s Sir to you. It’s Yes Sir for you! Didn’t your parents raise you to respect authority? I surely hope you don’t behave this way in church.”

I could feel the anger radiating off Tate in waves. He twisted my wrist hard enough I thought I heard bones snap and the gun is ripped from my grasp. It’s discarded immediately and his hands were around my throat in a warning squeeze.

Yet again I tested my diminishing boundaries even as I courted death. Each time my religion is mocked it’s like a physical slap to the face.

“You haven’t the right to be called as such! You’re just acting out in an attempt to gain control of your life when your childhood had none.”

This had been the wrong thing to say.

His free hand went to his belt to produce a switchblade that sliced through my panties. I certainly regret my choice to wear a skirt today, my thighs clenched together in a feeble effort to cover myself from him. I felt fingers trailing up my shaking legs that stopped at the hip. At that, I pressed myself into the table to avoid his icy touch which seemed colder than normal.

“I’m warning you bitch. After I’m finished with you, you’ll wish I had blown your brains out. Why don’t you beg for it? Beg for me to pop your cherry. I mean…I doubt someone like you has experience when it comes to sex.”

Tate’s voice had dropped to a threatening tone and there’s a sudden pulling sensation at my throat. He managed to yank my necklace off and toss it aside even when I caught hold of it momentarily. I couldn’t help the sob that came upon having my religion physically stripped by the Devil. I looked straight at him and said what’s expected past the lump in my throat.

“Ta—Sir. P-please take my virginity. Fuck me like the slut you say I am. I’ll even worship you as…my..my God.”

He slicked his fingers with spit and his own blood and brought them to my cunt after forcing my legs apart. Trying to provide enough wetness. Tate knew it took great effort for those words to slip past my lips so it’s why he entered without hesitation. I cried out from his first thrust that forced my body further into the table, arching my back when a hand slipped under my shirt to harshly fondle my breasts.

“Mmm…am I exciting you already doll? You know, I’ve heard virgins get wet the fastest. It would be terrible for your boyfriend if you’re a lying whore.”

The twisted smile on his face only widened once I truly started to cry. He showed no mercy in taking something we both knew I wished to keep until marriage. I wrapped my arms around his back, clawing at the fabric while my insides ripped at his invasion. It only provided more lubrication as even more blood coats his dick with each harsh snap of his hips. The pace is bruising as Tate buries himself balls deep and soon enough there’s a fire burning in my core. A sensation I tried denying even as this started feeling really good. The hand still at my throat tightened to where I couldn’t get enough air, my vision wavered but his laughter was distinct.

“Tell me, did you ever finger yourself to the thought of me after our sessions? I thought of fucking you like this for quite some time.”

His voice lowers to almost a whisper that’s a strange contrast from the dominant behavior earlier. I managed a nod, tears continue rolling down my cheeks when a moan gave my arousal away quicker than intended.

The pressure momentarily vanished to allow an opportunity to answer.

“Yes Sir. I’ve also imagined what you’d feel like inside me. I often fantasized about it.”

I ran my fingers through his slicked back hair once our foreheads came together in a show of mock intimacy. The sound of skin against skin is so disgustingly exciting, laughter rings in my ears as does the gunshots while he choked the life out of me. His intense, soulless eyes captured my gaze and I knew then he saw everything. My legs shook despite not fully standing which promoted him to slip an arm under my waist. Making it so there’s no distance between us.

Before this situation happened the few of us alive had stifled any noise that might have attracted the shooter. Now I can hear sobbing and prayers all around us. For Tate, this only made him want to fuck her harder and force her to show everyone she’s actually enjoying it.

Tate groaned when my walls clenched around his cock but he didn’t let up on chasing his own orgasm. Unfortunately my first time is mixed with pain and pleasure as my eyes rolled into my head. It feels as if I’m floating when my body suddenly jerks forward but my only thought is to feel him cum. My legs came around his waist when Tate hits a spot that nearly unraveled me.

“Please Sir…”

“Please what? You’ve got to use your words sweetheart.”

His voice is sickeningly gentle. His breath further heats my skin when he laughs into my neck at my desperate tone. Tate shifts our weight so I’m sitting further in his lap, yet another moan escaped at the change of position. The lack of oxygen clouded my mind and to his delight I’m bouncing on his cock like a whore. He’s stretching me to my limit with each thrust that forced his thickness deeper than I thought imaginable. I sharply pulled at Tate’s hair in an attempt to encourage him to speed up the pace.

“Please, please allow me to cum. I need to, Sir. I’m just a vessel to be used by a God such as you.”

“That’s right. Fuck, you’re so tight. You really are a slut after all and an unfaithful Christian. I’ll show you who’s God.”

Those words muttered into my skin are like poison though my body told a different story entirely. Each spot he touched felt ablaze. I felt awful for subtlety moving my hips against the very person who took the lives of our classmates just a few feet away. Tate is by no means a God though continues to act as such. The only authority he has is due to the uniform and gun.

I couldn’t help but consider how good he feels inside, his dick hitting a sweet spot that makes me fasten my legs tighter around him, coaxing him to go even harder.

“I want you to say it. Say ‘You own me Sir. You are my God.’”

Tate’s fully aware he’s being watched fuck her senseless and the fact she’s submitting is almost too good to be true. Another sadistic grin spread across his lips at the thought of what’s to occur when she’s swept to the hospital. At night, he often fantasized about this very moment, raping a girl such as this one before committing suicide. The crying and praying—hers and their classmates—only made him harder. And that she fought back. Tate’s looking into her eyes while she straddles him, her face is flushed and eyes half-lidded with arousal.

“Ah…you..you own me Sir. You are my God.”

My fate was sealed then and there. A few sharp movements were all it took before Tate fully buried himself, blowing his load.

There was only so much he could handle, their foreheads pressed together as her walls started to constrict as if trying to keep him sheathed. Tate admired her briefly, the tear stained face, parted lips, her breath on his tongue and tickling him. She looked absolutely ruined in the most beautiful way.

His cock throbbed and I’m filled to the brim with hot cum that goes deeper than he’s able. I pressed my face into Tate’s neck, nuzzling into him. Whimpering once I felt his blade kiss my flesh. He leaned down and bit my throat hard enough to leave teeth imprints. Soon enough my head lulled onto his shoulder as my consciousness quickly faded.

Tate groaned while pulling out of her before lowering the girl on the floor. She’s already dripping which prompted him to stuff her pussy with the underwear previously cut. Trying to keep as much in so there’s a higher chance of pregnancy. He carefully placed his trenchcoat—revealing his military coat underneath—over her body, then fixed his pants, grabbed his shotgun and headed for the exit. All the while whistling that very tune he had before starting the massacre.

Tate headed for the cafeteria—and shot the few remaining students under tables who were foolish enough to stay put. He picked up a discarded water bottle, drank what’s left and threw it to the floor when finished. By the time he arrived it was already 12:30 pm and it’s only a matter of time before SWAT ruined his fun. He jogged to the library for one last survey of his work. The girl under his coat remained blissfully ignorant of his looming form above her. He licked his lips slowly, admiring her delicate body he just defiled. She looked so fragile. If he really wanted to, he could strangle her or put a bullet in that pretty head right now. Although that wasn’t the plan.

Tate put 6 feet of distance between them, going onto his knees but facing her. He raised the gun to his left temple and pulled the trigger. Hoping to be confined at Westfield instead of that damn house.

The few in the library watched their shooter kill himself less than 10 feet from them. A few screamed out—from relief or shock it wasn't known—and immediately ran for the exit. Except Kevin, Aileen and Stephanie.

Aileen was the first to move toward y/n while Kevin grabbed the broken pendant he cradled in his palm. A part of him was relieved Tate had killed himself while the other wished he’d been the one to do it.

The two knelt beside y/n, each holding one hand. They didn’t need to look under the trenchcoat to imagine how she appeared since they were forced to watch. But for now she’s peaceful which is why they didn’t wake her. All they could do is wait until SWAT assisted everyone outside.

In the end. Tate knew what he did was for a war he hoped others took note of. Their school needed cleansing as does this filthy world they live in. His act of committing suicide wasn’t one of cowardliness but of self sacrifice. He saved his classmates from the truly harsh realities of life. They’re taken somewhere safe, somewhere clean. Perhaps some would understand his actions and regard him a hero. A soldier even. In times of tragedy people looked to God. Right? Wherever Tate ends up he’ll always find a way to make sure people saw him as such. Especially y/n.

#finished letter #under the sheets #dead dove do not eat #tw school shooting #school shooting tw #noncon mention #tw noncon #Tate Langdon smut #Tate Langdon x Reader #ahs smut #dark content #proship #🥀 anon #proship writing blog #proship writing

[lisbeth-kk]

May Prompts

Today's prompt is: choice

The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter 10)

Summary: Sherlock shows Rosie his literate treasure, and Rosie muses about her bedroom at her grandparent's.

Ten Years Old

My favourite thing in the summertime, was to read outdoors. It still is. In London it was not as easy to achieve as it was at my grandparents. At home, I had to go to a park and pack a rucksack with all I needed, but at Pops and Granny’s house, I could just bring the blanket and my book outside to the lawn, and I reached the perfect reading spot in under a minute. If I needed the loo, or something to drink or a snack, it was within comfortable reach.

“You can’t bring more than a few books this time, love. Taking the train, remember,” Dad said when he saw the pile of books on my bed, looking more and more like the leaning tower of Pisa.

“But, Dad, I’ll be there for over a week,” I protested.

My greatest fear was to run out of books to read. Papa assured me that no such thing would occur.

“My old room is filled with books, Bee. And the library downstairs contains quite a few interesting volumes as well.”

How could I know if any of my grandparents' books were to my liking.

“Don’t worry. You’ll like them,” Papa assured me, even if I’d uttered no word about my doubts.

I opened my mouth to protest again, but when Dad cleared his throat in that way, I dropped it.

“Fine,” I said and turned to my book tower to consider which to bring and which to leave behind.

In the end I chose Heidi by Johanna Spyri and one of the Grimm fairytales volumes, which were placed in my bag, and after that I became increasingly curious about which books I would find in Papa’s childhood home.

***

Both me and Papa were beside ourselves when we finally arrived at my grandparents. Me, over being there again, Papa because he was eager to show me all the literate treasures the house could provide.

“I’ll help with tea while these two explore the bookshelves,” Dad offered his mother-in-law.

She made a shooing gesture towards us, and Papa ushered me upstairs.

I hadn’t really looked around Papa’s old room before. It was his and Dad’s room now. Uncle and my grandparents obviously had their own rooms, while I occupied what was called the maid’s room, which clearly was a lie. The room had a femininity about it, but it was too comfortably furnished to be a servant’s quarters, and I knew from Papa’s own mouth that the room hadn’t been redecorated for me. It had always been like that. 

For every passing year, I wanted to ask if there’d been another little girl who’d lived in that room, but something stopped me. There was no evidence other than my own suspicions. The only photographs in the house with a little girl in them, were of me. 

Papa called me over to the bookshelf and I decided to let the mystery go for now.

All the books Papa had laid on the bed, sounded exciting, and I wanted to read all of them at once.

Treasure Island. Around the World in Eighty Days. Robinson Crusoe. The Lord of the Flies. The Courier of the Czar. The Story of Marco Polo. Anne Frank’s Diary. The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar.

“Pops and Granny can show you around in the library if you need it later,” Papa said.

“Not sure that’ll be necessary with all of these,” I said excitedly. “Can you help me choose? The Story of Marco Polo or…”

“Time for lunch, bookworms!” Dad shouted from downstairs.

“Coming! I’m starving,” I shouted back, and forgot all about impossible literature choices.

Papa chuckled and mumbled something about Watsons and their insatiable appetite.

Also available on AO3

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @raina-at @helloliriels

More tags in the replies

#may prompts 2024 #may 10: choice #sherlock fandom #rosie watson #sherlock #john watson #johnlock #bbc sherlock #sherlock fanfic #ao3 fanfic

[levithestripper]

can i request game of thrones hcs about jaime, bronn, and sandor's (and whoever else you'd want) sex habits? kinda like the sex habit post you made for attack on titan?

Sex Habits with Jaime Lannister, Bronn, Renly Baratheon, Loras Tyrell, and Sandor Clegane

masterlist

warnings: gender-neutral reader, mating press, hickeys, mention of bondage, power bottom! bronn, orgasm control, oral [m! receiving], dirty talk, overstimulation, hair pulling.

relationships: jaime/reader, bronn/reader, renly/loras, sandor/reader.

included characters: jaime, bronn, renly, loras, sandor.

length: 1.1k || read on ao3

⤷ if you want to be added to the taglist click here

a/n: recently bought myself a hbomax subscription so my game of thrones hyperfixation came back with an aggression that’ll only get worse once house of the dragon comes out

Jaime is always the dominant one in the bedroom. He enjoys having that type of control over you; it’s different than the kind of control he has over his men. Being with someone who trusts him enough to let him restrain them to the point where they’re utterly defenseless fills him with an immeasurable amount of desire.

He loves to leave hickeys or a visible mark on you in places where it’s impossible to hide them. You belong to him, and he’s going to make sure everyone knows you’re off limits. He always ensures they’re a deep, vibrant shade of red or purple, ensuring that the men and women of the court would whisper to themselves about them.

Jaime’s favorite position to take you in is a tossup between cowgirl and missionary. After he loses his hand, cowgirl is easier for him, and he gets the added bonus of watching you bounce on top of him. Even after his hand is gone, missionary is still common with you two, but not as much so. Jaime enjoys folding you in half, pushing your knees to your ears, makin’ you squeal from it.

“Fuck, my love,” Jaime groans, “You’re so tight ’round my cock.” He has your legs resting atop his broad shoulders, effectively folding you in half. His hips slap against your ass, the sound of skin against skin echoing throughout the room. Your moans mix nicely with it, which only spurs Jaime on further. “Gods, I’m gonna fuck you stupid.”

Bronn is more lenient when it comes to dominance in the bedroom. He’d never entertain the idea of being on the bottom, but he’s willing to hand over the reins of control every once in a while. He’s always in control, it’s almost therapeutic for him to let go. Bronn likes it when you take control, likes it when you straddle his waist and make him ask for permission to cum. But if you overuse your power, he’ll stop letting you do it.

Other than cowgirl, his favorite position is doggy. Seeing your pretty little back arch downwards and your ass wiggling in front of his face gets him harder quicker than anything else. His hands spread themselves down your spine, thumbs rubbing over the ridges he finds there.

“Mm, you’re very good at this, you know,” Bronn said, his voice somewhere between a chuckle and a groan. Your lips are wrapped nicely around the sellswords’ thick cock, sucking him off like you have all the time in the world. Bronn cards his fingers through your hair, tugging on it when he wants you to move faster. “Yeah, just like that, love. Just like that.”

Renly and Loras have found what works for them, and they stick to it. Renly likes to top, while Loras prefers to bottom, so it works out well. Loras is a pillow prince; enjoying being pampered and praised and fucked out of his mind. Renly is more than eager to give Loras whatever he wants, loving the sounds of his needy moans.

Loras knows exactly how to get his lover going, and he uses that to his advantage constantly. While Renly is away at his war council, Loras spreads himself out across their bed, back arched nicely, hips swaying as they hovered over the mattress.

The large oak door creaked as it shut behind him, blocking the noise of angry Lords arguing over tired battle plans. Renly ran a hand down his face and then through his hair, groaning softly. A whistle floats through the chamber, guiding Renly’s gaze to his bed. “My Prince,” he grins, the sight of him washing away any stress brought in from his council. “You surprise me.”

Loras chuckles coyly, wagging his hips enticingly. “Your war council was long today, my love. You left me alone for so long.” He fakes a sadness in his voice, enjoying teasing him. Renly walks to the edge of the bed, his eyes never leaving the gift that was Loras’ ass. “You like what you see, Your Grace?”

Renly nods, hands gravitating towards the ass in front of him. “Apologies, my love. The war we wage is growing ever most complicated as of late.” He tugs Loras’ breeches down to his knees, hands spreading his cheeks apart to gaze at all his lover has to offer. “I’m sure I’ll be able to make it up to you, hm?” Loras twists his head back to look at him, a broad grin on his face. “Yes, I know just how to make it up to you, my love.” Renly leans down, licking a fat stripe up his lover’s taint.

“Oh, Gods, Renly,” he moans out in surprise, gripping the pillow in front of him, his knuckles turning white. “Just like that, please, keep going.” His hips press against Renly’s face, a silent beg for more, which his King granted. It wasn’t uncommon for Renly to go down on his lover. Loras melts every time. The feeling of his tongue tracing his rim, dipping slightly inside, making Loras moan even louder than before. Renly rarely needed to stop for air, content with the quick, shallow breaths he got between his own moans. “Renly, My King, please, please give me more!”

When you’re with Sandor, there’s no question of who’s in charge. Sandor is either inside the walls of the Red Keep or out on the road, so sex with him is usually quick, as that’s all he ever has time for. He’s not below pulling you into a closet or an empty chamber for a quickie or a sloppy blowjob.

But when he does find himself with an extended period of free time, he spends it catering to you and your pleasure. He pulls you to sit on his face, his nose buried deep in your sex. Sandor doesn’t stop until his chin is dripping with spit and slick and cum, the fluids rolling down his neck and getting stuck in his beard. His hands sit at your hips, forcing you to keep you still and preventing you from wiggling around.

“Sandor, Sandor, please!” you beg, tears streaming down your cheeks, your hands tangled in his unruly, knot-filled hair. His large, calloused hands envelop your waist, forcing you still. You’re positive there will be bruises blooming there later tonight. “Please, please, I can’t cum anymo—ore!” your voice cracks with arousal, pulling on Sandor’s hair harder.

Sandor came up for air, his lust-filled eyes meeting your own. “You’re done cummin’ when I say so, sweetheart.” He kisses the insides of your thighs before returning to the feast above him. Licking stripes up your sex, each one leaving you trembling and shaking with overstimulation. “Now that I’ve tasted you, how can you expect me to stop so soon?”

taglist: @aestosia, @sandorcentral, @aestheticallywinchester, @th3rah, @broadsdrinkwhisky, @i-smoke-chapstick, @groovy-lady, @its-deputy-caleb

#jaime lannister #jaime lannister x reader #jaime x reader #bronn of the blackwater #bronn x reader #renly baratheon #loras tyrell #renly x loras #renly baratheon x loras tyrell #sandor clegane #the hound #sandor the hound clegane #sandor x reader #x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #got x reader #got x you #got x y/n #got characters #x you #x y/n #jaime lannister imagine #sandor clegane imagine #got imagine #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #gender neutral imagine #gender neutral s/o #character x reader

[harrywavycurly]

Sarah can I please ask for Steve rushing to meet dotty? 💕😍🥹

Hiii lovey!! I will gladly give you Steve after rushing to the hospital to meet his new bestie! I hope you enjoy💖

-find all things It Was Just One Night here✨

“Dude why is your hair wet-” “out of my way Munson I’m here to meet…holy shit she’s so cute…you didn’t tell me she was going to be so small and so..so precious.” “Did you just call my daughter precious? Was that a Lord of the Rings reference?” “Eddie…I really don’t have time to talk nerd shit with you right now I’m literally staring at my niece.” “Should I…leave you two alone?” “Yes.” “Jeeze no need for both of you to shout…I’ll uh go get some coffee…enjoy your time with her Harrington…she’s kinda amazing and you’re gonna be obsessed.” “Do you want to hold her Stevie?” “Am..I…allowed to?” “Of course you’re allowed to…come here…now just be sure to support her head…there you go you’re a natural.” “Oh uhm I brought you something it’s wrapped up in my jacket.” “You don’t have to get me…oh my god.” “I know Eddie’s always on your ass about water but figured if you had a cute cup to drink it from then it’d be easier.” “It’s pink…and glittery oh it’s perfect Stevie thank you.” “It’s the least I could do…I mean you literally made a human and all I did was have someone make you a cup…” “I did do that didn’t I?…make a whole human.” “You did…and she’s perfect.” “She really is…I love her so much it’s kinda concerning me like they took her away for half a day to do some test and I was a mess the whole time.” “I understand…I don’t think I’ll be able to stay away that long…gonna have to coordinate weekly Stevie and Polka Dot hang out sessions.” “Figured Thursdays would be best since that’s when the dungeon master holds his little meetings.” “Only one day a week?” “I mean you know where we live…come by anytime…or ya know call me and I’ll see if I’m up for people but I’ll never tell you that you can’t come see her even if I don’t wanna see you.” “Why wouldn’t you want to see me?” “You know how I get…people annoy me.” “That’s true…so how’s he been since she’s arrived? Still worried he’s gonna leave and never come back?” “He’s actually been great…he just stares at her and gets this goofy grin on his face and I mean…I think I’ll always be worried he’s gonna leave it’s just…who I am as a person.” “That’s good…I’m glad it’s all worked out for you…but remember I can still attempt to kick his ass if you need me to even though you could probably handle it yourself…I’m always gonna be here for you…and little miss perfect over here…” “Thanks Steve…you’re the best.” “I know…” “so…about your hair…” “i didn’t have time to blow dry it so it’s just drying on its own…tell me it doesn’t look horrible…” “no no…horrible it’s the word I’d use…but uhm…let’s be glad Dot can’t really open her eyes or see very well yet…” “oh god it’s that bad?” “I’m just kidding Stevie you look fine.” “We don’t joke about hair…that’s our one rule okay little Dot? Hair is serious business and one day I’ll help you come up with a routine that’ll give you the best hair on the block.” “I’m sure she can’t wait for that…” “I already love her.” “She has that effect on people.” “I love you too of course…don’t worry.” “Thanks Steve…I love you too now I’m gonna take a nap…you can just hold her or put her back in her bed if you’d like?” “Oh I’m not putting her down until I absolutely have to.” “Okay that’ll be in about half an hour when it’s time to feed her…” “okay then…just take your nap and we will be here on the couch…I’ll tell her all about how her mom and dad met.” “Steven Andrew….” “Just kidding just kidding…I’ll save that for her eighteenth birthday.”

#one night stand convos #eddie munson series #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson au #modern!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie x mom!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #bff!steve Harrington #eddie munson #my little dungeon master baby #steve harrington #eddie munson fluff #my little fluffy haired baby #stranger things au #stranger things fanfiction

[cult-of-a-buttercup]

Hey. Have you ever wondered what each boss fight OST could mean for each bishop? No? Well too bad!!! This is all about that!!!!! (Links to the songs are on the names :] )

Leshy’s theme

Leshy’s boss fight is usually the first one you go through- though you can defeat whatever boss you want first, he would be the most common option since Darkwood is the first zone you unlock.

His theme is very simple when compared to the others? The whole song feels very magical, in a similar way like a fantasy world- it reminds me of medieval bards probably because of the string instruments. And the whole magic thing is blame of the chorus that shit goes hard

The lack of complexity of Leshy’s song could show that this is a bit of a first- he hasn’t fought much in his eldritch form before, so he does as best he knows with little thought. Him being the “first” boss also makes him a somewhat easier opponent, so it only adds on to this. Also the ending of the song really makes it seem like something surprising has happened- again because of the chorus. Very probably because. You know. First bishop who EVER got killed. Bit of a shocker. Things are going to change from now on you feel me.

Heket’s theme

Heket’s theme goes HARD. It’s probably my favorite one

The the first few seconds of the intro SCREAM destruction. This girl is there to demolish you and to make sure the One who Waits stays chained FOREVER. It’s very fast paced and it keeps going fast for a while before a chorus kicks in and holy SHIT I don’t know why but the melody it follows just. Makes me think of sorrow. Of how sad all of this prophecy really is and how this has affected Heket for CENTURIES now.

AAAND this is BACKED UP by dialog!!! If you go to Anura without killing Leshy she says this:

“The Bishops… my family. Have they not suffered enough? Have I not suffered enough?”

“We fought, pathetic vessel. We bled. We grieved. And yet the Red Crown wants more. No more.”

HELLO??? LIKE SHE’S SO SAD AND IT SHOOOWSSS IN HER FUCKING OST i love this game:;;:; the fact that she remarks that they GRIEVED the loss of her brother too- this poor girl has to every reason to never miss or think about her brother but how can she?? He was one of her older brothers, one of her mentors. Of course she misses him and probably still hurts because of his betrayal- both emotionally and literally because of her injuries. But you think she’s going to let her “feelings” get in the way???? NO. She’s going to kill you. That’ll make her feel better (eternal denial)

Kallamar’s theme

The build up of Kallamar’s theme genuinely just reminds me of royalty and. Mermaids. This squid is out here to show just how GOOD he is at killing lambs. KING of lamb slaughter you could say. LORD of murder. The chorus it has and the instruments really make it look like he’s a force to be reckoned with and that his fight will be filled with power!! With the grace only a king and a god could have!!! But even so it still has a few parts near the middle where it like slows down and shows maaybe a bit of insecurity. Knowing Kallamar wanted to avoid this fight at all costs it wouldn’t surprise me that his confidence in fight comes and goes in flashes, much like the parts with flutes and singing after the “greatness” introduction. My poor man is having a crisis out here someone help him

Shamura’s theme

Something that really catches my attention is that unlike the rest of the boss themes, this song has no initial build up or intro. It’s pretty straightforward. And honestly??? (WARNING: SHAMURA PROPAGANDA) it just shows how important they are. They need no introduction, they’re the bishop of war and knowledge! The one and only, Shamura!!! You already know who it is, they don’t have to make it clear with an introduction. It’s either that or a reflection of how used they are to war and combat, so they don’t make it as much of a big deal as their siblings. OR since they already knew it was going to happen, it simply isn’t big news and they’ve been waiting for this to happen for too long to care.

It’s also really quick paced and goes very well with their boss fight, considering how aggressive it is compared to Leshy’s or Heket’s. Even so, like the others it has a part in the middle where it slows down a little and has a smaaaall little chorus in the back before building back up to a quicker pace. Could be that they’re analyzing what’s going on or that their injuries are acting up again so they need a breather- it also gives it this slightly sorrowful feeling to it AUGH.

The ending of the song is also different, like Leshy’s. Though the ending of Shamura’s theme really make it sound like something big happened- not because it has never been seen before but because its over. There’s no more bishops, the Old Faith is fucking gone. If you beat them last, that is JWRBIFDNB

Narinder’s theme + The One who Waits’ theme

Hooooly shit these two songs go hard. Also two of my favorites.

The introduction makes it SO clear that something has unleashed like you don’t have to be playing to know something BIG is happening. This one has only a voice and the bass- it makes it feel very majestic and divine in a way I can’t really explain, if you get it you get it. Honestly I have no comments. It’s mystical, it shows that you are fighting a GOD and that is IT.

The fact that it’s two separate songs also makes me think a lot about how Narinder was part of the Old Faith, but The One who Waits is NOT. Basically when comparing osts Narinder’s theme sounds a lot more like what we’ve seen with the other bishops while toww is a LOT more aggressive and just overall heavy handed?? It makes me think that like he’s DONE playing around.

Other things I noticed:

All mini-boss themes are similar to a small sample of their respective bishop

Other locations like Sozo’s cult or Midas’ cave also have similarities to the bishop’s themes or rather their areas

Baal’s theme is longer than Aym’s. Could mean many things, like Baal is older or that his fight takes a bit longer. Most people know Aym is the weakest link since he falls coughing after some attacks he makes, so it only makes sense

Narinder’s theme is more similar to Aym’s and The One who Waits’ is more similar to Baal’s

Shamura’s theme is the longest between all bishops with 2:35 minutes

WOW this took a minute but yeah. I hope everyone likes it!

I’d love to see what all of you think!! Maybe you think I’m absolutely wrong or want to add on- either way I will read everything with them big old eyes ❤️

#cult of the lamb #cotl #cotl leshy #cotl heket #cotl kallamar #cotl shamura #cotl narinder #cotl toww #cotl the one who waits #bishop leshy #bishop heket #bishop kallamar #bishop shamura #bishop narinder #the one who waits #leshy #heket #kallamar #shamura #narinder #toww #cult of the lamb headcanons #cotl headcanons #headcanons

[iwriteloveletters]

Savior (Karl Heisnberg x Reader) - Chapter One

Words - 1957

A plague overtook your village, everyone was dying left and right. No one knows what it was or where it came from. And praying to Mother Miranda didn’t stop or slow down the illness. 

“We have to leave you outside.” Your mother says.

 You caught the plague as well.

Every breath you took felt like pins and needles, your skin felt as though it was on fire, not to mention the peeling that was happening on your hands and feet. You were miserable and dying, and yet your mother was more worried about throwing you out in the cold streets of your village to die. 

“Please, mama.” Your sister says, she didn’t want to see you die–she had hope for your survival. 

“No! We have to take them outside, this plague will not get the rest of my family too.” She shouts. 

You lay there helpless on the floor, you were in and out of consciousness. You were certain you were dying. 

All you hear is your mother and sister bicker for a while longer, your father sits there helplessly; he’s unsure of what to do. He doesn’t want to give up his oldest child but he doesn’t want to lose his wife or daughter as well. 

“It’s final! They will be sent outside.” She says while she and your father hauls you outside while wrapped in blankets as to not touch you. 

You have no clue how far you were from home but you only understood how cold it was. 

You felt yourself sink into the cold earth, wondering what it is that’ll take you. Will it be the plague, the cold, or the lycans that are on the prowl every once in a while? 

Whatever it was that would take you, you had no choice but to succumb to it. This will be how you die. You cannot fight or avoid this.

Your parents said no goodbyes, nothing felt sentimental about being hauled off like a corpse no one cared to bury.

All you could do was think, and barely that. You still kept going in and out of consciousness. Your body is still trying to make attempts at resting. You consider yourself dead, truthfully. You were nothing but a body that was harvesting deadly bacteria; you were contagious on top of that–no one dared to see those caught with the plague. Though, they were treated more kinder than this. They weren’t hauled off with no say in how it was going to be. You were in an unknown area in the dead of winter. It was only your parents who seemed to have hated you enough to get rid of you given the chance. 

You think back to the times when you were actually living, you weren’t the most perfect or kind person in the village. Perhaps this was Mother Miranda's way of having you atone for your sins. In fact, the entire village seemed to be atoning.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” A male voice rang in your head.

You give him no response. You were unable to.

You feel him lift your arms and turn your head as a way to examine you, you can barely open your eyes but from what you were able to see in your blurred vision was Lord Karl Heisneberg, this felt like a mirage. 

He clicked his tongue, “let’s see what we can do with you.” He says as he lifts you into his arms, he was warm but he smelled strongly of sweat and oil.

You had no choice but to let him do whatever he pleased with you. He was possibly turning you into a sick human experiment, everyone knew the Lords were usually up to no good. This situation you were in will be at the expense of something. Nothing was out of the kindness of a Lord's heart, certainly not Heisenbergs. 

“Where are you taking me, my Lord?” You finally had the energy to cough up.

He chuckled, “I may fix or ruin your life, up to how you take it.”

You blacked out after his response, you’re sure he says something extra here and there but you never got to comprehend it. It all melted into echoed chuckles and mumbles. 

Your body was no longer cold, without opening your eyes you knew were somewhere indoors. There were various voices around you, they were arguing about what to do with you. 

You wanted to die but it felt as though they had different plans for you. One of them did at least. Through opened eyes here and there you could see the four Lords and Mother Miranda herself! You felt a bit embarrassed being seen in your current state, you don’t know what they wanted from you but you spent your entire life being taught what to do had you been in a situation where they ‘called’ you to see them. No one knows what they wanted from everyday people, but it felt like such a high honor to be in their presence. Everyone teaches their children on how to approach each and every one of them. Being diseased in their presence felt extremely disrespectful, your mother would have had a heart attack if she knew. 

“It might benefit you in the long run Mother Miranda, you never know!” Karl said, you have no clue what he wants from her or what it has to do with you. 

After more negotiation Mother Miranda agrees to what Heisenberg has been asking for, what it was exactly was still something you didn’t understand. 

“Come along then.” She sighed, Heisenberg taking you back in arms again, you open your eyes to various halls here and there. 

“What’s going on?” You choke up. 

“We’re going to make you better.” Mother Miranda said. 

You could feel your last bit of energy pass through your body over this news, “you have the cure, Mother Miranda?” 

“It’s better than a cure, my dear.” She said softly.

For a moment you felt safe with these people. Safer than you ever could with your mother and father who left you for dead. They could’ve come here for answers! Since you got in so easily it should be no problem, right? 

Or so you thought. 

You spent the next four hours in surgery, the last thing you were told before the pain took everything out of you was that you will be receiving a wonderful gift, the Cadou was inserted through your heart and you spent the next three days in pain. 

There Mother Miranda writes in her notes about your progress while you lay comatose for these few days, Lady Dimitrescu’s maids were tasked with caring for you, Heisenberg would occasionally stop by and talk to you about mundane topics such as his day or newest Soldat he put together, but you couldn’t hear anything. To you it felt like your body could get the rest it needed despite the dreadful pain you experienced. Beforehand, you were unable to sleep properly because of how horribly everything was due to the illness.

Y/N L/N

Age: 24 

Occupation: Farmer

Day one… the surgery was a success. No signs of being the ideal host yet, skin around the hands and feet appear to be turning black, almost like frostbite. Will give it two more days before the subject is pronounced dead.

Day two… skin seems to be clearing up slowly but surely, the subject is able to move and it's as though they’re simply sleeping. Still no signs of being the ideal host… the maids are complaining of the room feeling below freezing… later in the afternoon the subject's finger appeared to have been frozen off, yet when I examined them a new finger was there untouched, in fact it was no longer black unlike the rest of the hand. I believe the blackened limbs will start to fall off and grow new again any moment now… the fallen limbs seem to have turned into pieces of ice and later water due to the temperature no longer supporting the ice. The room temp has now been regulated. 

Day three… The subject is nowhere near an ideal host for Eva. They’ve appeared to be back to normal. I will have to examine them again when they’ve awakened. Seems to have the gift of ice. I will have to try again soon. 

By the fourth day, you’ve finally awakened. You feel like you’re freezing but you’re no longer sick. 

“Good morning.” You hear a familiar voice speak to you. 

You sit up and see an older woman from your village placing water on the table across from you, you haven’t seen her in years. 

“Anna?” You said, your voice was hoarse due to not speaking in days.

“Oh, Y/N.” She said, “I’m so sorry for what they've done to you.” She frowned. 

“What are you talking about?” You looked at your hands and they appeared to be fine, last you remember they were red and peeling. Overall, you felt pretty great besides the chills you experienced, but it was late December, of course it was going to feel cold. Especially in what looked like such an old castle. 

“Do you know where you are, child?” Anna questions you.

You shake your head, hoping she’d give you the answer. 

“The Dimitrescu castle!” She exclaimed. 

You felt your body go numb, your hands shook, everything kept becoming more and more confusing. 

“Why? All I remember was Lord Heisenberg carrying me to an unknown area! Am I in trouble with Mother Miranda?”

Before Anna could answer, there she walked in. The woman you only heard of in prayer and sermon. Sometimes you doubted her existence but there she was right before you. 

“My child…” She whispers as she makes her way over to you, “how are you feeling?”

You felt paralyzed, you didn’t know what the right words were while you sat in front of her. You wanted to cry and thank her for her mercy even though you’ve done nothing wrong but at the same time everything you did felt wrong and sinful. 

“I’m okay… where am I?” 

She chuckled and grabbed your arm, she put it down shortly after. “You’re freezing. Do you feel cold?”

“No, Mother Miranda.” Which was half true, you felt completely fine despite the chills.

“That’s great, I would like for you to meet everyone else.”

You grew slightly frustrated but perhaps she’ll explain there or on the way. But you know better than to show it. 

She had Anna hand you a pair of new shoes, which were lined with fur on the inside, perfect for the brutal winter. 

You walk down a series of confusing hallways with intricate designs on them, she kept quiet. As did you, you were taught how to act but never how to speak to her, she was never someone you spoke to but rather listened to. She was a Goddess to you all. 

The two of you made it inside of what looked like an abandoned church, there sat the four Lords. They were expecting you. 

“Children!” She called out. 

Everyone stopped their bickering and paid attention to Mother Miranda, who made you two the center of attention. 

“Welcome your new sibling, the fifth Lord; Y/N!” She said while shoving you to the center of the room. 

All watched your every move, except for Karl. Guilt was very clear on his face.

“Nothing smart to say, hm?” Lady Dimitrescu smirks. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Karl replies. 

“Enough. Welcome home Y/N.” 

You feel your stomach drop, and before you know it you crash onto the ground and everything is dark once more. 

Since when did you become a Lord?

After writing my oneshot Manmade Weapons, I enjoyed it so much that I wanted to start a fic for him !! Im unsure of the updates but I hope I can put out whenever I can!! Anyways, I hope everyone enjoys this. And this will be on AO3 if you wanna bookmark it there too :3 -Cherub

#yandere #tw yandere #self shipping #self insert x canon #canon x self insert #self insert #karl heisenberg they could never make me hate you #Karl Heisenberg x reader #Karl Heisenberg #Karl Heisnberg fanfiction

[hookhausenschips]

Burning Rubber

Chapter Four

F1 Masterlist

Burning Rubber Masterlist

Word Count: 2,930

Summary: Azha enjoying her girls vacation until a fight with Lando happens.

Warnings: talks of dangerous acts, tiddies, Brazil GP, nakedness

previous part next part

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Asha’s POV

It’s been two weeks since I was at the Grand Prix in Austin. I flew back home afterward and spent some time with family. Going to car meets, seeing old friends, and just enjoying life offline. But here I am on a plane with my two best friends heading to the islands to start my summer break. Ever since the Grand Prix, so many people have followed my account and my comments are flooded. Some are worse than others, especially the Lando girlies. They don’t bother me but I’ve had to limit my comments or just turn them off in general. Thankfully my other account is private, but they’ve all constantly requested to follow. I sigh and look out the window of the private jet at the night sky. Soon those worries will be long gone and I will be soaking up the sun in a new place. Nova and Sariyah were fast asleep at the back of the plane. Lando and I have been talking a lot lately. Whether it’s both of us checking in on the other or just simple conversations.

I can’t deny I do miss his presence. His corny jokes, his smile, that boisterous laugh, everything I guess. He’s made an everlasting impact on my life without even trying. Speak of the devil, my phone lights up with his face. A FaceTime. I answer, “Hey, what’s up?” I ask quietly. “Just called to see how the flight’s going.” He shrugged. I could see he was in his hotel bed, wearing his infamous grey hoodie. “It’s fine I guess. Nova and Sariyah are asleep. I’ve tried but can’t seem to.” I reply. He nodded. “Sorry, I couldn’t come to Brazil,” I whispered. “It’s okay. Max, P, and the others are here. Although it’s not the same without you here.” He spoke. “Yeah, I saw that Max said he’d play Rich Baby Daddy if you win, think that’ll happen?” I ask. He huffed a laugh, “God I hope not. I would love a win of course but him playing that whether I’m on podium or after? Absolutely not.” I nodded smiling. “It’s a sprint again right?” I asked. “Yeah another one, the last one for the season. Thank god. Then two more races left.” He said. “Ah yeah, I heard about Vegas. You excited?” I said while getting comfy again in my seat. “I mean kind of? It’s Vegas so yeah that’s fun plus a circuit none of us have raced so there's potential for someone other than Verstappen to win.” He trailed off. “But?” I asked. “But I feel it’s going to be over the top just because it’s Vegas.” He sighed. I nodded, and we continued to talk about the upcoming race.

“I mean yeah the fans have been terrible but it’s nothing I can’t handle. I’ve dealt with these things since I could remember.” I told him. “So that’s why you’ve turned off your comments?” He questioned. I nodded, “And on my stories too. I’ve had Kiara take care of that account. I’m going to take a break from it while I’m on my summer break. I’ll still be on the other one. Thankfully none of them have infiltrated that. Lord knows what would happen.” I said. “Yeah, you still haven’t taken me to the street life.” Lando changed the subject. “Well let me know your schedule and I’ll make it happen,” I say. “When are you three coming back?” “Um, I think after the Vegas Grand Prix unfortunately,” I reply. “Oh okay.” He whispered. “I’m sorry Lando. That’s the time we paid for out here.” I said even though the girls and I had planned on attending to surprise the Brit. “It’s okay, maybe after the race?” He asked. I nodded, “If it works for you.” Silence surrounded the call. It wasn’t an awkward silence, more like contempt. I could see he was fighting sleep, “Lando go to sleep. You can always call me later.” I whisper. He shook his head, “You’ll be busy on your girl’s vacation.” He spoke. I look up hearing a noise and see Nova sit down across from me. I look back to the boy on my screen, “You know I’ll always answer. You need the rest.” I say. “Just a few more minutes? I haven’t seen your face in forever.” He replied sleepily. “That was so cheesy. But okay fine, you get three minutes Norris and then I’m hanging up.” I smiled. All I heard were soft snores as a reply. I put my phone on mute and then placed it on the armrest of my seat.

Nova looks at me with a smirk on her face. “What?” I question her. “You like him.” She replied sitting back in her seat. “And what makes you think that Londyn?” I roll my eyes. “Well for one you two are so touchy feelly. Two, the way you look at him. Azha I haven’t seen you look at anyone like that since Giannis. And god you two are almost flirting whether either of realize you’re doing it or not.” She listed. Lando and I had always been touchy in our friendship since maybe day three. “I’m always touchy with everyone, you know touch is my main love language.” I counter. “You’re more touchy with him though. You two might not see it but you both are so into each other. You care deeply for him.” She spoke. “Nova, we’ve only been friends for what four months? Almost five? I don’t have feelings for Lando. I’m sure he doesn’t either. He could have any girl in the world, why would he choose a street racer/borderline criminal?” I replied. “So you’ve thought about it?” She smiled. I roll my eyes, “That’s not what I said.” I said beginning to get frustrated. “Can we just forget this and focus on our vacation? I have enough people criticizing or telling me things in my career and life. I don’t need you to start too.” I cross my arms and look back at my phone seeing the boy we speak of still asleep.

We finally landed in Jamaica at 12:30 pm, our first stop, and made it to our Air B&B. It was beautiful with a view of the ocean by the pool and jacuzzi. I text Lando congrats on Pole for the shootout after watching on the plane. Of course after falling asleep for a few hours. I went to my room and opened my suitcase to change into my bikini. Grabbing my neon yellow one I change into it and head down poolside with my phone. I sat on one of the sun beds then I texted Lando to see if he was free. My phone began to ring, and I answered immediately. “Hey Mr Sprint Pole.” I smiled. Lando was in his driver’s room still in his suit. “Hey yourself Miss Island Princess. How is it?” He asked. “We just arrived a few minutes ago. Here I’ll show you the view.” I say standing up and switching to my back camera. His eyes shined in awe, “And that’s from the pool?” He questioned. “Yeah. I mean it’s not Brazil. But it’ll do. Feels good.” I replied then turned the camera back around. “How is Brazil anyway? Having any fun, and no I’m not talking about the race.” I ask him. “It’s great, I can’t really complain.” He replied, I heard a voice in the background I couldn’t quite make out. “Hey, can I call you after the sprint? Gotta get going.” He said. “No yeah of course. Good luck and again, Congrats Lando.” I said. “Thank you, I’ll see you later.” He said. I said my goodbyes and hung up. Time to watch the sprint and soak up the Jamaican sun.

“Dude no fucking way you’re not going to be wifed up looking like that,” Sariyah said as she and Nova walked down to the pool. “If it’s not Lando I doubt she’ll fold,” Nova remarked. “Ooo do tell,” Sariyah replied as the two sat on the sunbather to the right of mine. I roll my eyes, “There’s nothing to tell. Nova is just talking out of her ass.” I told them. Then went back to watching the Sprint on my phone. I could hear the two whispering. “You’re not going to play matchmaker. We’re here for us. No guys, no drift racer bullshit, nada.” I told them, not taking my eyes off my phone. “So if I told you there was a car meet tonight, you would say no?” Sariyah inquired. I sighed. I could feel the two grinning knowing they already won me over. “What time?” I asked. “9:30 baby. Wear something hot.” Nova teased. Before they could say more I jumped up screaming. “P2!!! He did it! He got P2!” I cheered. As I jumped around I could hear Nova whisper to Sariyah, “Yeah she’s totally not into him.”

Later that night

Walking into the parking lot where the meet is I spot so many beautiful cars. It feels weird not showing up with our cars. We’re just spectators tonight. I haven’t been in that position in years. Nova grabbed my hand, “You look nervous. Relax it’s not like we’re racing for slips.” She spoke. “Nothing wrong with being cautious. Yeah granted we don’t have our cars but we don’t know anyone here. Something could pop off.” I replied. “We’re letting loose tonight. We’ll be fine babe.” Nova said. I nodded and sighed, here goes nothing.

The Next Day

Rolling over in my bed I groan, my joints aching. Thank god for no hangovers. I open my eyes to see the sun shining through the sliding door. How the hell did we get back? I sit up in bed trying to remember the night. What the fuck? I move the blanket to search for my phone, I hear a thud hit the carpet, and peek over the bed. I snatched it and tried turning it on. It flashed saying it needed charging. I groaned again and grabbed my charger. I sit back on the bed and watch as my phone powers on. Immediately it starts dinging repeatedly. I turn off the ringer. Many missed calls, texts, FaceTimes, dms. You name it. Most are from Lando, Ria, and Max in our group chat. I start to sift through the messages. I replied to them as much as I could, and then my phone started ringing. It was Lando. I answered and was met with his face twisted in worry. “Thank God you're okay. Do you not know how to use your phone?” He asked. “Lando, Lando slow down I just woke up. My phone was dead, I just plugged it in.” I replied. He finally looked at the screen and his face immediately turned pink, “Um. Azha you’re a little uh.” He stuttered. I looked at the screen where my picture was, I screamed hanging up and throwing my phone. Lando had just seen my naked chest. I didn’t even realize I was fully naked. I groaned and covered my face with my hands. How embarrassing. I mean it could’ve been worse, I remember once sending this random guy my nudes and certain videos while drunk on accident. Thankfully that guy wasn’t the type to post them everywhere. Okay, Azha just breathe you’re going to have to face him soon, get it over with now so it’s not awkward in the future. Before I could grab my phone to call him back the girls bust down my door.

“YOU SHOWED LANDO YOUR TITS??!” Sariyah yelled. I collapsed back into the pillows and yelled frustratedly into them. “It was an accident, how the fuck was I supposed to know I’m naked. I don’t even remember getting home last night.” I told them as they sat on the bed with me. “Wait how the hell do you know he seen them.” I inquired crossing my arms. “Max texted Nova who was asleep and I was using her phone to go through the videos and stuff from last night when the message came through. He said ‘Lando is freaking out, he seen Azha’s boobs on accident. He didn’t mean to and now he thinks she’s mad’ And I freaked out waking up Nova.” Sariyah explained. I could crawl into a hole and die. “Text him back and tell him that I’m not mad at Lando. And that I will call him back right now. You two have to be quiet though please.” I sighed. The two nodded and Nova replied to Max. Sariyah handed my phone back to me and I made sure I was covered by the comforter before calling Lando back.

“Azha I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have looked that was a total invasion of privacy.” Lando rambled and I could tell he was pacing in his hotel room. “Lando.” I spoke, “I understand if you’re upset, I would be too if someone just randomly seen my dick without the actual sex part.” He continued. “Lando,” I spoke louder as Nova and Sariyah covered their mouths to hide their giggles. “I mean they’re nice. I’m sure the piercings and tattoos hurt but they’re nice too. Oh god, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to say that. Not saying they’re ugly but that’s the last thing I should be saying.” He rambled more. “Lando!” I yelled. He finally stopped and looked at his phone. “It’s fine. It’s my fault, I should’ve checked before answering. I’m not mad. Embarrassed and every other synonym? Yeah absolutely. Stop freaking out okay?” I say. “Also thanks for the compliment, they weren’t that bad. You should get some.” I teased, and he blushed again. I could hear Max, P, and Ria laughing in the background. “Were the tattoos a drunken idea?” He asked. I smiled, “No actually, it was either that or a tramp stamp from a dare years ago. So barbed wire hearts it was. Why get a tramp stamp when you could get a spine tattoo or full-blown backpiece.” I replied. “Anyways. As you can see, I’m alive. So are the girls, we’re fine no more worrying grandma.” “Yeah very much alive.” He replied sarcastically. I ignore his sarcasm. “Congratulations on the sprint by the way,” I say. “Quit changing the subject. You could’ve died last night.” He said, his eyes shined with frustration. “Lando I walk that line of death every time I sit down in my drift car or even just my cars when I’m street racing. You’re overreacting. See?” I explain propping my phone on the blanket and moving my arms. “Very much alive,” I say. “Azha you scared us last night. That’s not okay and to try and dumb it down like it’s nothing is literal insanity. Have fun on the rest of your trip.” He spoke, and before I could say anything he hung up. I look at Nova and Sariyah, “He’s overreacting right?.” I questioned the two. They looked at each other and then back to me, “Girl he might be right on this one.” Sariyah said passing me her phone showing the videos from last night, I played each one as my face twisted in shock and horror. Oh my god.

Today we are leaving Jamaica to surprise the group in Vegas for the Grand Prix. I haven’t talked to Lando since our fight damn near a week ago. If you could even call it a fight. More like just him trying to play dictator of my life. I texted him to wish him a happy birthday but all I got in response was being left on read. I don’t blame him but he can’t yell at me for my actions when it also applies to my racing, both kinds. He has no right to act like that. Yes, it was dangerous but I knew deep down I was safe. The street life with the right people is always safe because they make sure you’re safe. He wouldn’t understand that. Sariyah and Nova say I need to apologize, if I were in his shoes I would react the same way. But that’s the thing I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t tell someone how they should live their life or how to spend their vacation. I zipped up my suitcase and looked around the bedroom. We didn't go out much after that night. Well, I didn't, I stayed here at the villa either swimming in the pool, sunbathing, walking down to the beach, or lounging around the house. I didn't need the added stress of Lando trying to be my father once again.

A knock on the doorway interrupted my thoughts, “Hey you ready to go? The Uber is here.” Nova said. I nodded then grabbed my suitcase and followed her downstairs. “Have you guys talked yet?” she asked. I shook my head, “No not even a thanks when I wished him ‘happy birthday’. I can just feel how awkward this Vegas thing is going to be. Hopefully, he's gotten over it. I sure have.” I spoke as we climbed into the Uber. “Has he talked to either of you?” I asked the two. “Yeah he has,” Sariyah said. I nodded, of course. Why does that not surprise me, ignore me but talk to my two best friends. Whatever I'll just hang with Ria and P while we’re there. Try to avoid Lando as much as I can since he clearly also wants nothing to do with me.

#formula 1 x black!reader #formula 1 x female reader #formula one x oc #formula 1 x oc #formula 1 x you #formula one x you #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #f1 x oc #f1 x female driver #f1 x black!reader #x black!fem!reader #x black!reader #x black fem reader #x black reader #x reader #lando norris x black!reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x oc #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris #hookhausens chips #burning rubber

[takeyourcyanide]

Forest

TRIGGER WARNING: Technical Self-Harm

Ao3

Word Count: 3 165

Fandom: Soul Eater

Character(s): Franken Stein, Spirit Albarn (Mentions of Lord Death & Marie Mjolnir)

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Self-Harm, Canon-Typical Violence, etc.

Summary: Spirit walks in on Stein cutting his arm with his scalpel, shenanigans ensue.

Note(s): I suck at summaries. Also, this is the most hopeful thing you’re ever getting from me. Enjoy it while you can. I also hope this naturally progresses and isn’t sort of random anyway I’m rambling

Stein pressed the shining blade of one of his numerous scalpels into the plushness of his arm, dragging it through his flesh, beads of blood spilling from the wound as he hissed at the sharp, stinging pain.

He placed his bloodied scalpel down onto a steel tray, grabbing one of his many small, glass slides, allowing the crimson liquid to drip down onto its clear frame. He slid the slide over the surface of the wound, collecting all that he could, before placing the slide under his microscope.

A childlike and curious glint appeared in his eyes, a grin tugging at his lips, ultimately replacing his typically flat expression as he zoomed in through the lens onto the blood - an entirely new world appearing before his eyes as he intently observed each cell that made up the ever-flowing liquid on his left arm, as he had forgotten to bandage the injury.

The furious nerves in his arm shot pained shocks throughout the limb, of which he ignored as he giggled elatedly to himself, bouncing his right leg up and down in a repetitive motion.

He, too, paid no mind to the gentle flickering of his desk lamp, nor to the rubbery pitter patter of Spirit’s slick, black dress shoes right outside of his bedroom door.

“Hey, Stein, Marie mentioned some carnival she wanted to go to, if you wanna come with. We’re all gonna go in, like, a couple hours,” Spirit stood in the doorway, eyeing Stein’s hunched over body with suspicion. “What are you doing?”

“Why are you wearing shoes in the house? That’ll track dirt inside,” Stein sounded discernibly distracted, as though he wasn’t truly present in the room with Spirit.

The weapon sighed to himself, sparing quick glances around the dimly lit bedroom, one of which carried a grim air, impatiently tapping his foot as his eyes spotted the red trickling down from the meister’s pale arm.

“What happened?!” He gasped, making quick strides towards Stein, lifting his arm carefully. Stein offered Spirit a half-hearted glare, his arm taut underneath his partner’s ministrations.

“It’s nothing. I just had to cut myself in order to acquire a blood sample,” Stein elucidated in his habitual monotone, his face returning to a blank state, as he pointed in the direction of the slide underneath the microscope. “I wasn’t in the mood for jabbing myself with a needle.”

“So, you decided to slit your arm open..?” Spirit huffed, shrugging his shoulders whilst shaking his head. He reminded Stein of a disappointed and annoyed, or even mildly perturbed parent. “Where do you keep your bandages? I know you have some,”

Stein lifted his finger in the direction of one of his dresser drawers, staring at his weapon-partner with less of a pout, and more an expression of inquisition.

Spirit trudged over with gauze pads,

a roll of fuzzy, cotton bandages, and some tape, placing them onto the wooden desk as he grabbed onto Stein and his chair, pulling him nearer. He took a seat on the very edge of the boy’s bed, and began wrapping the wound in the comfortable coverings.

“I could’ve done that myself, you know,” Stein stated, yet allowed his partner to nurse the gash.

“Well, you weren’t,” he replied, pursing his lips in an almost passive aggressive manner. “I would’ve point ointment on it, but I figured I’d hardly get away with doing this, so you can do that yourself later, how about that?”

Stein nodded his head, quietly watching Spirit as his movements soon came to a predictable halt.

“Thanks,” he mumbled to the redhead.

“Yeah,” the scythe had barely managed to hear him.

“Do you want to see?” Spirit had stood, looking rather unsure of what action he should take next.

“See what?”

“The blood under the microscope.”

Spirit grimaced in slight revulsion, though that did not take away from the pang of curiosity pricking away at his brain as he longingly ogled at the microscope.

“Sure,” he relinquished his pride, raising his arms in the air, his hands falling with a soft slap on his thighs.

Stein, despite his face remaining stagnant, was inwardly smirking victoriously, as he rolled his chair away from the desk, making room for his weapon.

“Okay, fine, it’s cool,” he sulked as he glanced between the lens and the smug male beside him. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you cut into yourself,” Spirit declared awfully sternly as he held his pointer finger in the air, now facing Stein.

“You won’t let me cut into others, so when I inevitably start cutting into myself, that’s also a problem? It’s my body, is it not? Am I not permitted to do as I please with it?” Stein frustratedly began, despite his voice remaining unaffected. You could only see it in his weary, jaded eyes.

A harsh sigh shook Spirit’s frame as he stood with his arms crossed over his chest in an authoritarian manner, peering downwards as he spoke to Stein.

‘And of course he’d look down on me,’ Stein thought to himself. ‘They all believe themselves to be above me in some way, don’t they?’

“Well, yes, Stein, it is your body, but harming yourself isn’t a good idea,” Stein gazed directly into Spirit’s eyes with fervor, causing the hair on the back of the weapon’s neck to rise with caution.

“Is curiosity now a vice I must overcome, just like everything else? Just like myself? You know, given the fact that you seem to think everything is a sin,” he bit back at Spirit. “I’m not just some misguided child you need to set straight onto the ‘right path.’ And what gave you or anyone else the right to decide what was considered ‘right’ and ‘wrong,’ anyway?” He rose from his seat, standing in front of Spirit with a simultaneously empty and threatening expression present on his visage. “I will do what I want, and you will not get in my way, Spirit.”

“You can’t just make up your own rules,” Stein’s countenance only intensified as Spirit continued onwards.

“Is that not what Lord Death has done?”

“W-“ he stuttered. “Well, that’s different-“

“Why?” Stein interjected, crossing his own arms.

“What do you mean ‘why’? Isn’t it obvious? It’s Lord death.”

“Whether or not someone is supposedly a god means nothing to me.”

“How could you say that? Don’t tell me you really mean that…”

“Why is it that you mindlessly follow every order he gives you, everything he says without question?” Stein stepped forward, his face only inches apart from Spirit’s shaken one.

“Becau-“

“Do you even know what it is that you’re fighting for? Why it is that you’re fighting for it?” He tilted his head, his tone almost condescending. “Or were you just told that this was what must be fought for? Are you just a dog that follows every command from its master? You simply slaughter any being you are told to without questioning a single thing, only to get mad when I dissect any living organism.”

“But that’s different. The one’s we kill are evil, they can’t be redeemed-“

“How do you know that? How do you know what’s ‘evil’ and what is ‘not’? Why do you not question a thing?”

“Just because you don’t have a sense of morality doesn’t mean we all can’t have one,” Spirit furrowed his brows in aggravation.

“You’re missing my point, Spirit.”

“What point?!”

“I don’t care that you have a moral compass. It’s only natural that hurting your fellow man would make you feel guilty. It’s evolutionarily beneficial to feel as such.”

“Then what’s your point?”

“You don’t question anything. You don’t question why you feel guilty. You don’t question why society deems one thing wrong and the other right. You don’t wonder to yourself why they never respect the nuances - the grey areas present. You don’t question why some people are more repulsed by certain things than others. Morality, at the end of the day, is nothing if not a subjective mess.”

“And that means you can do whatever you want?” Spirit tapped his foot on the ground, leaning as he allowed his weight to fall onto his right side.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, it does. Because in my own subjective perspective, morality does not matter,” Stein’s mouth curled into an eerie grin, his eyes growing in size.

“You have no right to disrespect the right to life of every living creature on Earth for your own benefit,” he frowned angrily.

“Well, you might think it’s different, but are you not doing the same thing, killing anyone on Lord Death’s list?” Stein suggested, moving creepily closer to Spirit. “And I figured it’d be obvious by now, but for some odd reason I can’t find it in my soul to care about the rights of others, though I do agree that you’re technically correct.”

A chill ran up and down Spirit’s spine as he saw his partner in a light he had never seen him in before. He wasn’t just some apathetic and disagreeable kid. He was someone Lord Death would most certainly send his students out to exterminate. Stein’s only saving grace from such a fate was the fact that he had no interest in consuming the souls of others. And the fact that he was the best meister the school had ever seen.

Spirit once again shook his head in mild disbelief, a sort of shock clouding his thought process. He didn’t know what he expected, Stein had always behaved like this, but it felt as though a revelation had fallen upon him, opening his eyes to the truth; there was no saving Stein.

Stein’s expression seemed to soften, even if only a little bit, as he picked apart every minute detail on Spirit’s face, as he dissected his soul.

“You can see it, can’t you?” Stein murmured, sounding oddly disappointed - something Spirit seldom heard from his resilient and detached meister.

“See it?” Spirit repeated confusedly, seeking clarification as he processed his newfound perspective.

“Me,” he started to explain, appearing rather sullen and morose. “A part of me. Oh, well. It was fun while it lasted, wasn’t it? Or maybe it wasn’t for you.”

“Fun while it lasted? What are you talking about?” He squinted his eyes, being thrown for a loop.

“I know you can see it, Spirit. Aren’t you seeing me for what I am in a sense?” Stein’s arms fell to his sides.

“I guess so? But what does that have to do with something being ‘fun while it lasted’?”

“Our partnership. It was entertaining,” he responded as thought it was clear as day what he was talking about.

“I’m not going to end our partnership just ‘cause you’re kind of a jerk, Stein,” he said, finally understanding what Stein had meant.

The scientist looked confused, his eyebrows pinched close together as he searched ceaselessly for answers, something he himself could understand and grapple onto.

“But I don’t respect the rights of others, you said it yourself. You can’t fix me, Spirit, I know you can see that.”

Spirit grabbed ahold of Stein’s smaller shoulders, shaking him a little as he replied.

“I’m not just gonna leave you here because I can’t ‘fix’ you, Stein. I care about you. That’s why I don’t want you cutting yourself up. Do you think I want you bleeding or some shit? Do you think I’m not worried that one day I’ll find you bleeding out ‘cause you cracked up and randomly decided to perform some surgery on yourself?”

“You care about me?”

Stein sounded so taken aback by his former statements that Spirit almost felt a sort of empathy for the guy. Actually, he did empathize him. Even if he was some kind of psychopathic nutcase.

“Duh, you dumbass! Do you think I told you to stop taking scalpels to yourself just to piss you off?!”

“I thought it was because I might be more vulnerable to future attacks from enemies if injured. Or because you told Lord Death at some point about my experimenting and Lord Death told you to tell me to stop.”

“Can you really not fathom that someone might actually care about you?” Spirit sincerely asked, a much more sympathetic and tender look on his face.

“I suppose not. I don’t think anyone’s actually known me before, so I don’t believe it’s possible. And who’s to say you’re not trying to earn my trust and ultimately utilize it to your advantage?”

“Stop being so goddamn paranoid for once in your life! Show me you! I want to see who you really are! I’ll accept all of you, I promise. I’m not trying to double-cross you or anything, I just want to really get to know my partner, I swear.”

“Really?”

“Yes, you idiot!” He yelled passionately in a degrading manner, yet retaining a doting tone.

“I don’t know if I know how,” Stein responded honestly, perceptibly quite apprehensive towards the notion.

“How about you try,” Spirit slid his hands down from his meister’s shoulders to his frigid hands, effectively warming them in his own. “Why don’t we resonate? And don’t give me some fake, curated soul.”

“Okay…”

……

A luminous, blue glow formed around the pair as their souls intertwined, wavelengths moving back and forth and becoming one rhythmically. It was like a tragic song as Spirit ultimately crawled into Stein. It was as though the deepest pit of hell had opened before Spirit’s quivering self, an uneasy and horrified feeling washing over him.

The first thing Spirit could visualize was a foggy, labyrinth of a forest absolutely shrouded in grey. He could make out that a few of the trees had fallen, crumbling down as even the ground beneath him seemed to crack. For the plethora of trees that stood, the branches and leaves had become overgrown, twisting around one another, strangling each other to the point that any possibility of looking up at the sky had long since vanished. Loose screws stuck out of the trees, some slipping out and falling onto the decaying grass.

The forest was silent. Utterly and alarmingly silent. There were no chirping birds or hopping frogs, or really, any sign of life at all besides the apparently struggling trees themselves. The only flowers present were belladonnas.

A sudden and chilling gust of glacial wind blew by, slapping Spirit in his flabbergasted face as he noted to himself just how bitterly cold the forest was. His body trembled as he dragged himself forward, his teeth chattering. He felt unusually scared, nearly appalled.

“Stein?” He called out, only to be met with an ear-piercing and repetitious echo as he registered the sheer scale of the forest he was lost in. “Where are you?!”

It felt as though the weapon had been stripped entirely bare as he aimlessly wandered throughout the depths of his meister’s soul.

And though it felt like hours, finally, a sound besides his own movement could be heard; static.

It was a mantra of sorts - a broken record. It played over and over again.

Where was it coming from?

Spirit took a left turn, dodging a few vines and spiderless webs as he pursued the monotonous noise.

“Stein!” He bolted towards his partner, of whom was lying on the dirt, a vintage radio sat beside him. He looked so worn out.

His eyes peered up into the endless bunch of mossy green, golden, and reddish leaves above him, brown and grey making up his surroundings. He basked in the abyss, his body more unmoving than that of a corpse, which left Spirit dumbfounded. How was he not shivering from the virtually wintry temperature?

He fit in perfectly with the oppressive fog.

“What is all this?” It was a stupid question, but it was simply all that he could muster, all that he could choke out.

Stein did not respond, he did not even peek at the scythe. He maintained the same expression, the same position.

“This is you… Your soul…” Spirit muttered to himself before yelping out, “What the hell,” At the sight of blood pooling from the volume handle of the radio, of which was shaped just like a screw.

It looked like they were loosening, fragile and prepared to plummet at the slightest misstep.

“Can you make it stop,” Stein requested - truly, asked - in possibly the most exhausted and measly voice he had ever heard, as though he had been exasperatedly battling in an endless war against himself that no one else had ever known about. Stein was vulnerable, entirely unfortified for the first time in his life.

Spirit kneeled down next to Stein and the obstreperous radio, his visage sincere and concerned simultaneously, a sort of clarity about him as he delivered himself of his own fright - of his unease regarding his meister’s tumultuous soul.

He had truly never witness a soul quite like Stein’s ever before.

“No,” Stein abruptly shot up, evidently panicked and not breaking eye contact with Albarn. His eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets as they watered. “I don’t think I can.”

He struck Spirit as a helpless child.

“But I can try to quiet it,” he turned the slackened screw, the static slowly dissipating. “Accept it, Stein. Accept yourself. Accept that you can’t run from yourself.”

Spirit reached out, inching closer to Stein as he held him in his arms. He appeared staggered, startled to his core - scared, even, for the first time.

“You know this will be a part of you for the rest of your life. You can’t fight it alone,” he encouragingly purred down into Stein’s silver hair.

Stein curled impossibly further into his partner, surprisingly accepting the affectionate gesture.

Was he allowed to place his trust into Spirit? What would happen if he were to? What would it even look like? Spirit seemed so disgustingly sweet and serious, did he really have a choice in the matter?

“Accept yourself just as I accept you.”

Stein let out the breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding, his knuckles turning white as he grasped with an iron grip onto his partner’s suit jacket.

His formerly tense form seemed to melt into nothingness - a peace he’d never once felt before.

Stein peered above himself, the leaves and the branches had not untangled, the fog had only further dispersed. But those same leaves appeared a little brighter in color than before - the fog seeming a little less dense, as he allowed Spirit to lift the both of them upwards, still holding onto him, as the scythe offered Stein the most authentic, heartfelt smile he could gather..

“You’re the most cocky and sadistic and honestly insane asshole I’ve ever met, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna go out and find some other dick to partner with,” Spirit chuckled as Stein smirked in reply. “Trust me. And please don’t experiment on yourself.”

“Can’t promise you anything,” Spirit rolled his eyes at the stubbornness of his meister.

“Whatever.”

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