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#this is so ooc I'm sorry that's not what i was thinking about
autumnywinter · 18 hours
Note
Hiii! <3 Could you perhaps write something with Reader cheating on yandere Jingyuan?
I hope this isn't ooc! I love writing for HSR characters but I don't do it often.
Yandere!Jing Yuan x Reader
Tags: NSFW MDNI, cheating, spanking, patronizing behavior, light degradation, sex as punishment, gender neutral reader, implied kidnapping
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You couldn't deny you felt shame. Jing Yuan was so sweet, so doting, but he could get so busy sometimes. You loved him, you truly did, but occasionally, it was too tempting to not hook up with someone else. Just a fling, that's all you wanted. Only enough attention to make up for the lack of his while he was on duty. You didn't expect anyone to get murdered over it.
Things were supposed to go out smoothly. Your husband would be gone for the weekend, so you'd have a one-night stand and sneak back home at midnight. You didn't bother hiding the hickeys since you didn't think he'd be home.
However...
"Welcome home, dear. Did you have fun?"
He was there when you walked in. He was lounging on the sofa, eyeing you as you came in, his figure relaxed with one leg crossed over the other. There was no anger on his face. On the contrary, he smiled and looked more content than he had been in a while. But you could see it.
The glimmer in his eyes, the dangerous red that clouded his pupils. He wasn't angry. He was furious.
You flinched, wanting to shrink away into your coat. How were you supposed to explain this? "I..." Your voice came out in a rasp, throat dry and tight. You swallowed down your fear and tried again. "Yes... I did."
Part of you was still foolishly hoping he didn't know about your disloyalty, that you were overthinking his mannerisms.
Perhaps he just happened to be home early because he wanted to see you, and not because he rightfully suspected anything. Maybe you could still cover this up.
He rose from his seat and came towards you. "Did you now?" His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his chest. Your hands shook as they hung by your sides. "Would you like to know what I did, honey?"
It wasn't a question. He didn't care if you did or didn't want to know. He was going to tell you anyway.
His face pressed into your neck, inhaling your scent, humming against your skin. "I followed you." His lips peppered your neck with kisses as his grip tightened. "I have lots of friends in the knights that patrol the area frequently. Imagine my heartbreak when I hear my darling spouse has been sneaking around. I didn't want to believe it, so I had to see for myself."
You trembled in his hold, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Jing Yuan's tone was frighteningly even, but that only scared you more. You could feel him smiling against your skin. Forced and cold.
"When I saw you enter that man's house, I thought to myself: No, there must be an explanation for this. There's no way you would do such a thing." The more he talked, the more painful his grasp got. His nails dug into your side, threatening to puncture your skin. "So I waited outside for a while and sure enough, you came out a mess." His gaze became more narrowed, trailing down to the angry hickeys covering your skin.
"You stunk of alcohol and sweat, with all these nasty marks all over you. Even on your collarbone. Absolutely shameful."
You winced. "I'm sorry-"
"Shh." Jing Yuan's lips covered your own in a deep kiss that tasted of wine. "You were lonely without me, right? You wanted attention. I understand. There's no need to apologize. I know I haven't been paying much attention to you, so it's natural for you to look elsewhere."
Despite his understanding words, you felt trapped. Jing Yuan kissed you again and again, tongue swiping against your lips. You didn't have a choice but to open your mouth and let him in, letting his tongue explore every inch of your mouth.
He usually took his sweet time tasting you, but this time, he was impatient and sloppy. You could only grip his arms, whimpering as he poured all of his pent-up anger into the kiss.
When he pulled away, your knees threatened to give out on you. His mouth remained close, the warmth of his breath grazing your lips.
"You'll just have to make it up to me." His hand slithered under your coat and slid it off, his fingers stroking the marks on your shoulders. "These look painful. I never knew you liked pain. But I guess I never knew you were a whore, either."
His words pierced you like daggers, tears spilling from your eyes as you choked back a sob. Jing Yuan's cold eyes softened at the sight, cooing at you.
"Don't cry, sweetheart. It hurts me too when you cheat." His fingers stroked your cheek, catching some of your tears and licking them off his fingers. "I'll take care of you now, okay? Let me be your husband again." He guided you into the bedroom, pushing you onto the bed. "I'm going to fuck all of him out of you, so when I'm done, you'll only remember me. And all the other men you've seen."
Before you could protest, he flipped you onto your stomach and pulled down your pants. You squealed as his hand came down on your ass, leaving a red mark that would surely bruise later.
His palm was ice cold on your hot skin, soothing the sting from the impact.
"I want to forgive you, but I'm not going to lie to myself. You hurt me. I'd never hurt you like that." He paused, feeling between your legs. "And now you're getting aroused by this? Maybe I really have been neglecting you." He stood up to unbuckle his belt. "Let me remind you what sex feels like with someone who loves you."
You glanced back at him over your shoulder, watching him stroke himself. He looked down at you, an unsettling smile on his face.
"You know I love you, right?"
Jing Yuan climbed onto the bed, fingers tracing up your leg before pressing into your entrance. You whimpered as he eased them inside, not used to being stretched so suddenly. But he didn't care.
He thrust his fingers in and out of you, moving his fingers in scissoring motions to spread you more. You couldn't stop squirming beneath him, struggling to adjust to his pace.
"Answer me," he demanded. His fingers curled inside you.
"I do! I-I do!"
He hummed and removed his fingers, staring down at his hand covered in your wetness. He admired the way his wedding ring glistened in the low lighting, but not for long.
His gaze lowered to your reddened, flustered face, making his cock twitch.
"Good. Because I really do love you." He lifted your hips up, guiding the tip of his cock to your hole. He pushed into you and watched as you squeezed your eyes shut, desperate moans falling from your lips. Your walls wrapped around him, and he wanted nothing more than to absolutely wreck you.
So he did.
His hips snapped against yours at a rough pace, hands gripping your waist tight enough to leave finger-shaped bruises. Your moans and the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room. But the way you cried his name was the best song to his ears.
If he weren't mad with jealousy and frustration, he would've taken a few seconds to grab his phone to record. But he needed to chase the image of that man out of your mind first.
He reached around you and started rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. He sunk his teeth into your shoulder, grunting against your skin. His touch sent you spiraling into an orgasm, juices gushing all over his cock.
Your tightening walls drove him towards his climax as well, and he came inside of you with a satisfied groan.
Your eyes were blown wide as you felt his cum fill you up. Jing Yuan panted above you, not having the energy to pull out yet. After a few seconds, he did, watching his seed spill out of you. His hips gave a few lazy thrusts into you as if trying to push it in deeper.
"You took me so well, sweetheart." He laid down next to you, bringing your shaking body close.
"Are you still mad at me?" You breathed in his scent.
He chuckled. "I'm no longer mad. In fact, I'm happy. You just confirmed my suspicions that you can't be trusted on your own."
You didn't like the sound of that. "What do you mean?"
He brought a hand to your neck, stroking the skin there. "You have a wild spirit. So it's only natural that I'd need to watch over you closely, right? So you don't wander off again. How can you cheat on me if I'm the only person you see?" He ignored your frightened expression and snuggled you close to him. "This is for the best. Everything I do is for you, Y/n."
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You Call It Madness But I Call It Love
Chapter 14: You're All I'm Dreaming Of
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Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Soldier Boy POV
Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter fourteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)
Word Count: 5.8K
Warnings: References to sex, Mentions of sex (not really explicit), Self-detrimental thoughts, Cursing, Drinking/Snorting Drugs, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.
Note: This is told from Soldier Boy's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
********************************************
Previously:
"Y/f/n Y/l/n?" The dark haired man asks, an accent tilting the ends of his words.
"Who's asking?"
He pulls out a badge, holding it up to the peep hole. "I'm Agent Butcher, this is Agent Campbell. We’re from the CIA, here to ask you a couple of questions about Soldier Boy."
You open the door to look at them. "The rapper?"
"What?" Agent Butcher looks confused.
"The rapper? Soulja Boy-" You arch a brow feigning confusion. "Because honestly I don't understand why the CIA would be asking me about that."
“No.” Agent Butcher holds up a photo.
You keep your face impassive. It’s a photo of Ben and you at a movie premiere the week before he left to go to Nicaragua.
“You’re here to talk to me about my mom?” You flit your eyes back to the two men standing in the doorway, easily slipping into the lie that you and Legend invented.
“Your mom?” Agent Campbell looks confused.
“Yeah. Indigo. Who did you think I meant?" You ask.
*******************************************
Present Day
*Soldier Boy POV*
The longer Ben sat in the motel room the more he thought of you. It wasn’t unusual. Ben was always thinking of you, even before he fucked everything up and before you two became supes, Ben rarely thought about anyone else. He hated that he did that, hated that you were always on his mind because he believed that he shouldn’t care about you as much as he did. Because why would you want someone like him? He was a fuck up before and after the serum and you deserved better. You always had deserved better.
When his cage had finally opened your name had been on his lips. He was ready to see you again, tell you how sorry he was, and how much he loved you. He hoped that it was you finally coming to take him away, but it wasn’t.
Y/n said she never wanted to see you again. Of course it wasn’t her.
He sighs and takes a bite of cheeseburger. His first one in 40 years, that the British fuck had gotten him, but it tastes like sandpaper, because he can't focus on anything but you.
"Well we know a few of your old team members are already dead." Butcher breezes pacing in the dingy motel room. "Countess, Gunpowder, Indigo-"
Ben reaches for his knife to grind up the oxy on the table in front of him, hoping that the pills will bring more relief than the whiskey.
It had been three days since he got out of Russia. Two since he visited Legend, when Legend told him that you were dead and Ben threw Legend's red armchair through the window of his apartment.
When Legend said it, Ben couldn't breathe, couldn't grasp that you were really gone. He didn't want to believe it.
You were all he thought the past 40 years, you were the only reason why he wanted to get the fuck out of Russia. He hated himself for what he had done, felt that he deserved the torture, but it was nothing compared to how he had tortured himself over the years.
The last thing he said to you often replayed in his mind and the way you looked when he said it burned against his eyes at night. He hadn't meant to hurt you, he didn't want to hurt you, never did. You were his oldest friend, the only person he knew that could be honest with him, call him out on all his shit, the only person who knew the real him, and the only person he could trust to be the voice of reason when he lost his temper.
And he threw you away like you meant nothing to him, when you were the only person who meant everything, the one person that he actually gave a fuck about.
Ben thought about your last night together often, remembered the dinner in the little restaurant when you wore a dress the color of his suit and looked more beautiful than he'd ever seen you as you danced to the song that always made him think of you. Remembered how he felt when he finally took you to bed, how each time you cried out his name it made him feel proud that it was him making you feel that way, that you wanted him as much as he had wanted you for so long.
Of course, then the memory of the next morning broke in his mind. When he woke up before you and held you closer than he'd held anyone else, slowly stroking your back and watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you slept and allowing himself to feel at peace. He couldn’t stop smiling in that moment because you genuinely wanted him to hold you close to him. When he woke up with you in his arms when you were children he feared that you wouldn’t want him to hold you, so he always pulled away, afraid of the rejection. He felt rejection from his father, but Ben knew that if you ever rejected him he wouldn't recover.
And then I rejected her, like a dumb fuck.
Ben was not a cuddler, he didn't think it was manly, but being there with you the morning after was different, and he believed he could have laid there for eternity listening to the soft beat of your heart where you rested against his chest and watch the gentle rise and fall of your body as you breathed. He had trailed his fingers along your spine as you laid on his chest, happy for the first time in his life.
When you told him that you loved him, he had been stunned. He remembered the soft blush of your cheeks and wide smile as you said it. He had wanted to say it back, to hear you say it once more, and to make love to you again while he said it- because he knew that’s what you had done together. He had fucked a lot of women, but that night with you was different, he cared how you felt, wanted it to be good for you, wanted to be everything you needed.
But the thought of you loving him scared him.
As much as it made him a pussy, Ben understood that it scared him.
You shouldn't love him because he didn't think that he could be what you wanted, that after all these years he couldn't be enough for you, and he believed that he shouldn't care for anyone as much as he did for you, because that meant weakness. That meant that every time you were on a mission together he would have to worry about you more than anything else. And Soldier Boy couldn't be weak.
So he pushed you away and ran to Countess. Ben's jaw tightens.
The psychotic bitch that sold me out. 
It had surprised him, how recently she had died. Butcher hadn't taken responsibility for it as he had for Gunpowder, which made Ben curious as to who had done it.
"Are you sure that Indigo is dead?" Ben asks taking another bite of the hamburger, but it still tastes like nothing.
He wondered if that was because you were gone and then wondered if he'd ever be able to taste anything ever again.
"What?" Hughie looks up from his bag of food. "Why would you think that?"
"Countess. Y/n hated her." Ben takes a swig from the bottle of whiskey on the table to try and dissipate some of the sadness he felt when he thought of you being gone. "Who told you that y/n was dead?"
"Her daughter." Hughie answers.
Ben freezes, his muscles tightening as a sickening feeling rises in the pit of his stomach. "She-she had a kid?" The thought made jealousy burn in his chest. Someone else had loved you, someone else had been man enough to say the thing that kept him up at night.
Of course she had a kid. She said she wanted a family. I was just too fucking stupid and couldn't admit that I wanted to give her that, to give her anything she wanted because I fucking love her. Did I really think she was going to wait for me? After everything I did to her? After everything I said? 
"Yeah-" Butcher shrugs. "Spitting image of her."
"She looks like her?" The thought of seeing you smile again makes something stir in his chest.
But it wouldn't be y/n. Ben reasons to himself. Because she’s gone.
His hand tightens on the bottle of whiskey and he’s surprised it doesn’t shatter in his hand as a wave of sadness comes over him. The memory of you and him at Fairmount Park, when you painted him briefly flashes across his mind and he allows himself to bask in your smile for a few fleeting moments before it’s gone. It makes him feel like he’d taken a knife to the chest at the thought that he’d never see it again and never hear you laugh.
"Yeah. Calls herself the same thing." Butcher continues.
"I want to meet her." Ben states taking one last drag of whiskey from the bottle.
"What?" Hughie chokes on his food.
Ben stands up. "I want to meet her. Where is she?"
"Oi, I don't think that's a good idea. She didn't really seem too keen on seeing you-"
"What do you mean?" Ben spits back, eyes narrowing.
Hughie shifts in his seat uncomfortably and Ben can hear Hughie's heartbeat quicken in fear.
"Don't be a pussy and just tell me." Ben snaps, becoming angry.
"She didn't want to talk too much about her mom. But she did mention how upset her mom was with you." Hughie states.
Ben felt the memories of the past creep up on him again.
Of course she was upset.
He remembered how broken you had looked the night you caught him and Countess. The look on your face forever sealed in his memory. He’d never seen you look so small. Honestly he was surprised that you hadn’t killed Countess that night. If he had walked in on anybody fucking you after the night you shared together, he knew that he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from killing them.
Because you were his.
He thinks about Howard briefly. Ben had almost killed him before you were supes when he called you his at the dance. It was also difficult to walk away when Howard hurt you.
Ben’s thoughts drift back to Countess. Her body had been burned beyond recognition, but her head was no longer attached. It would have taken an extreme amount of force for someone to do that.
Could she still be alive?
Ben thought about your ability. He was the only one who knew what it really was, that you didn't just come back from the dead, that your body was able to take the power of any supe that killed you. It made you incredibly indestructible, more invulnerable than him, even though he didn't want to admit that. He liked the thought that he was stronger than you because it meant that you needed him to protect you. He liked the thought that you needed him.
The day you both figured it out momentarily dances across his mind, making him tighten his jaw.
He remembered the sound of the gun and how you immediately pushed him out of the way to take the bullet for him, because you didn't know he was bulletproof and your gut reaction was to protect him.
Ben remembered how he held you when you took your last breath, watched the fear and pain in your eyes, mirrored in his own body at the thought of losing you, of trying to exist in a world where you weren't there. It was how he felt now.
Purposeless.
He remembered the broken feeling that rose in his chest when he heard your heart beat for the last time and how he begged internally for you to come back to him, because he didn't want to live if it meant losing you. He remembered gently brushing your hair back from your face as relief swelled in his chest when you came back and he clung to you like you had been gone a millennia. Of course after he had yelled at you for being so stupid, for putting yourself in that situation, tried to act like he didn't care as much as he did, but you'd only yelled back and refused to listen to him.
She was just so damn stubborn all the time.
"I don't care. I want to talk to her." Ben grabs the black leather coat that Butcher brought him and changes into a dark t-shirt and a pair of jeans. "Take me to her."
Butcher rolls his eyes. "Well, she did call the other day and say that she had some information for me." Butcher shrugs. "Let's go."
"But-" Hughie interjects.
"Oi Hughie. Calm down."
"She lost her mother. I don't think she wants any reminders of that."
"I promise I'll be gentle, cupcake." Ben rolls his eyes and pushes past Hughie to the door, the thought of seeing you again or just someone who shared your face enough to make him feel something for the first time in forty years.
***************************************************
"Oi, Y/n you in there." Butcher presses the call button on the outside wall of the brick apartment building.
Ben looks up and down the street, noting the people who are walking down the cracked sidewalks. It was weird to be back in New York, to be in a city that he lived in for so long and feel out of place. Hughie had tried to explain some things to him about the new century, but Ben was still confused, and honestly he didn’t care. The only thing he could focus on was you and the possibility of you living here.
Not you. He corrected. But maybe. He still didn't quite believe that you were dead, that you could die.
A minute passes and Ben is tired of waiting. He confidently walks up to the glass front door, and pulls with  enough of his superstrength to break the lock and open it.
"What are you doing?" Hughie whispers following behind him, but Ben ignores the question strutting straight to the stairwell.
"What floor?"
"8th." Butcher says.
When they finally reach your door Ben pauses. He's not sure if he can look you in the eye, not after all of these years, if it really is you. And if it wasn't then what? What would I say to her daughter?
The thought makes the fear that he refuses to acknowledge grip his chest, the fear that you were dead followed by the feeling of purposelessness that seemed to follow him since he heard the news.
If it is her daughter, maybe she’ll tell me if y/n suffered, if she died thinking that I hated her.
The memory of the fight stirs in his chest as Butcher knocks on the door and waits. But nobody answers.
"Must not be home." Hughie shrugs. "We could call her-" He begins to say, but Butcher deftly picks the lock and the door swings open into the darkness.
As soon as Butcher opens the front door of the apartment and Ben steps through, all he smells is you. It's enough to confirm in his heart that it is you and not your daughter. He felt something in his chest stutter to a halt as he inhales the familiar scent of lavender and lemons. It was everywhere, all around him, flooding his senses. 
And for the first time in forty years he felt comfort, at peace. For a moment all thoughts of revenge, rage, and justice fades from his mind and he is left with the memory of you.
Ben immediately is transported back to those quiet moments when he settled into bed next to you after climbing through your window. When you would fall asleep before him and curl against him subconsciously, your hair tickling his cheeks and sending the soft smell over him. The nights when he’d wrap his arm around you as soon as you fell asleep because he was afraid to do it when you were awake, afraid that you would reject him like so many others did. Those nights with you outweighed any other time in his life. He remembered that each time he crawled through your window you smiled up at him, were happy to see him, so different than the home he left behind, where his father wouldn't look at him.
He remembered the nights after you took Compound V, when even after a hard day when he was a dick, you still allowed him into your bed, allowed him to sleep next to you. Those quiet moments in the late hours of the morning when you cuddled into his side and muttered words in your sleep that he couldn’t understand all the while he brushed your hair back from your face stayed with him. As much as he refused to admit to anyone, refused to show any emotion, being there with you, felt more like home than anywhere else.
That's why he asked you to come with him in the first place. He couldn't leave you behind. Maybe that was selfish of him, but he would not pretend to be unselfish, not when it came to you.
He thinks about all the suitors that he scared away before him and you left Philadelphia, all his friends who expressed interest in you only to have him drive them away, and of course the one that wouldn't leave. The one that bought you jewelry and finally asked you to marry him, another reason why Ben convinced you to come with him.
The jealousy was familiar. Ben didn't want to leave you behind, the thought that some other man would possess you or love you made his chest hurt. You were his. No one felt the way about you that he did, never would. No one would know you, care about you or understand you like he did, and no one knew you as long as he did. And although Ben had trouble expressing it, he knew that he loved you, he hated himself for being unable to say it. He couldn’t decide if admitting that he loved you made him a pussy or it was his fear of telling you that made him one.
Ben looks around the apartment, noticing the artwork on the walls, the messy studio table, and smiles. He remembered the way you always had a sketchbook with you, he used to tease you about it,  but you would only roll your eyes at him and continue to draw. He loved watching you sketch, watching how focused you were as you created something so effortlessly. He remembered watching you paint with the watercolors he got you, feeling a swell of pride that he was the one who started that love. Ben had been afraid to give them to you, afraid that it was too thoughtful, but then he remembered how widely you smiled, how happy you had been.
The apartment felt like you.
And by now again he knows that it is you and perhaps that's worse, because now he has to face you and he doesn't know how to fix this, any of it.
You weren’t like him or anyone else. You didn’t bend under easy promises and gifts like the other women he had been with over the years. Your ability to read him and understand him meant that you were special. And you were. You were special to him.
He moves forward towards the darkened hallway.
"Hey wait-" He hears Hughie say behind him, but Ben ignores him.
Ben finds your bedroom easily and the smell grows when he opens the door. He takes in the controlled chaos of the room before his eyes fall on the suitcase on the large bed.
Where was she going?
Ben pulls your supe suit out of the bag and smiles at the memory of the day you first tried it on. You never wore anything form fitting, hid your shape under shirts and pants, but the day he saw you in this for the first time made his breath catch in his chest. He knew that you thought you were fat, but Ben never believed that. He loved every curve of your body, loved to trace them with his eyes when you weren’t looking  and when you finally let him take you to bed, his hands. Seeing you in the suit for the first time was almost enough to push him over the edge, but he kept it together.
He notices the plane ticket on the edge of the bed, beneath the bag, and he pulls out the printed piece of paper, reading the fine print.
She was going to Russia. She was going to come get me even after I-
The emotion that rises in Ben's chest is unfamiliar. He did not like giving in to emotions the same way others did because he believed that made him weak, a lesson his father had ingrained into his mind. But this time he doesn't attempt to push it down. The plane ticket crumples in his hand as his jaw clenches tight. A part of him was relieved, relieved to know that somewhere deep down you still cared about him, maybe that meant that you would be willing to see him.
But he still didn’t know how to fix this. He'd never been good with words or apologizing or, well, love in general. He’d never loved anyone before you. He frowns at the thought of all the meaningless flings he'd had in the past. There was only one relationship with a woman he'd ever been in, with you, and he'd fucked it all up.
He kneels and reaches under your bed, looking for the box he knows will be there. It's a dark rosewood, one from your bedroom when you were a kid, but now it holds a different value. Ben sits on the end of your bed and opens it.
He had caught you with it a few times, usually when you started drinking or on your birthday, always on your birthday. It's why he never let you stay at home, he made sure you came out with him, because your mind would drift when you were alone and Ben didn't like the dark places it took you.
Ben rarely liked leaving you alone. Whenever he was on movie shoots in another country he would call you just to hear your voice, and even when he went to bed with someone else and they fell asleep he would stay up thinking of you, wondering if you missed him as much as he missed you, and wondering if you could sleep without him because he couldn’t sleep without you. Another reason why he pushed you away, believing that it made him weak.
The photo on top is unfamiliar to him, it's newer, and shows you standing with a young brunette woman outside of a college dorm. He traces the lines of your face with his thumb. He hadn't seen a picture of you in forty years, but you were just as beautiful as he remembered. The one that follows is also unfamiliar, you holding a baby wrapped in a pink blanket, the baby’s hand wrapped around your index finger, and you looking down at it like it's your whole world.
The look in your eyes does something to him. He remembered when you looked at him like that, the morning when you woke up next to him and whispered those four little words to him that he always wanted to hear while holding his face tenderly between your palms, "I love you Ben."
When things got bad in Russia he would strain to remember the memory, remember the way you looked at him, the way the words sounded falling from your lips. The words that he always wanted to hear you say. The morning that he wished he could change and the disastrous night he wished never happened.
"We shouldn't be here." Hughie says to Butcher in the living room.
"She ain't home. We'll go when he wants to leave." Ben hears Butcher respond.
But Ben knew that he didn't want to leave, wouldn't want to leave. He had spent the past forty years away from you and he didn't want to spend anymore time apart from you, even if that made him a pussy, he didn't care.
"This isn't a good idea. Y/n didn't want him here-" Hughie tries again
"Oi, look at this. She's looking at flights." Butcher states, when he notices the laptop on the counter.
"What?" Hughie asks.
"If it ain't her, how would she know about Russia?" Butcher says back. Ben hears a rustling like Butcher is going through the trashcan “And take a look at this-“
Ben shuts out their conversation and pulls other photos out, finally pulling out strip of paper from a Photo Booth. It was the day he took you to a baseball game,  before you were supes. You’d never been to one before and Ben had only been to the one his father took him to, when his dad got drunk and forgot Ben was with him. Ben frowns for a second but then looks back at the collection of photos on the strip. It was a good day. He had bought you a ridiculous hat, and you'd sat next to him looking radiant in the sunlight like you always did sketching him. Ben loved it when you drew him, it made him happy to know that when you looked through the pages of your sketchbook later that you were thinking of him. He often wondered if you thought of him as much as he thought of you. You'd both gotten drunk on cheap beer and when a woman yelled at you for being unladylike you flipped her the bird and said some choice words that made the tips of the woman’s ears turn pink.
Ben loved that about you, that you never seemed to care what others thought of you, especially your friendship with him. Everyone you knew had told you to keep a wide berth from him, but you didn’t listen.
Ben traces your young face in the photo with his fingertip.
Maybe she should have.
He turns back and pulls out a yellowed photo of you and your mother. Ben frowns at the expression on your face. You were never happy when she was around. He hated your mother, not just because she hated him, but he hated what she did to you. He hated that she made you feel ugly, when you were the most beautiful woman that he'd ever seen. Even as teenagers, Ben couldn’t help but notice how pretty your figure was and how you filled out the soft dresses you wore when you went with him on adventures through the city. He never thought you were too fat, if anything he liked your curves. The night you were finally together he worshipped them, wanted you to know that you were beautiful, to understand that he saw your beauty, because he knew that you still thought about what your mother said to you. He hated that she had such a hold on your life even though she had been dead for so long.
He hears a rattle along the bottom of the box and when he picks up the source of the noise he immediately wishes he hadn't.  It's a single pearl, and Ben understands what it's from. It's from the necklace he bought you for your birthday, the one that you ripped off your neck when you found him with Countess. He had agonized over whether or not to get it for you, thought that maybe it was too thoughtful or rather was too romantic. But the look on your face when you opened the box made him feel like he’d swallowed the sun.
Ben's teeth clench together as a wave of guilt crashes over him remembering what he yelled at you, remembering what he did to you. He thought that it had been what he needed to do, that he needed to push you away because he didn't want to care about anyone else, at least not the way he cared about you.
He hadn’t thought it would hurt as much to say those things to you, but it had all but ripped his own heart out.
But even before you found them together all Ben felt was guilt. He wasn’t enjoying anything he was doing to Countess, all he wanted was to do those things with you. He thought it was necessary, that by doing those things with her he could somehow clear his head of you, but all it did was make him feel guilty and want you more.
He thinks about the days that followed before his mission in Nicaragua, when he agonized over calling you, over showing up to your apartment, but he couldn't. He couldn't face you.  He hadn't been able to sleep those nights before the mission and wanted desperately for you to be there with him.  Ben couldn't sleep when you weren’t with him. He hated that he'd finally gotten you and then lost you so quickly.
Ben notices a velvet box, and he sighs when he opens it. It's an engagement ring, the engagement ring that you showed him the night he asked you to come with him.
He briefly wonders if you thought that was his version of a proposal. That you believed, turning your back on your family and coming with him meant more.
I’m such a fucking idiot. I should’ve-
“It really is a shitty ring.” He mutters. And it was, it was all wrong for you. Ben knew what you liked and he couldn’t believe that this was what that asshole got you.
Why did she keep it? Because she wanted to remember what her life could have been like if I didn’t ask her to come?
Ben remembers when he asked you if he ruined your life, before everything exploded. He imagined that after that night you changed your answer, because how could you look at him, let alone want to be around him after what he did to you?
Ben examines the ring again allowing the memory of the night you showed it to him push its way into his mind. He remembered being scared, of course he’d never admit that, he wasn’t a pussy, but he acutely remembered the moment you showed it to him. The fear of losing you that struck him when he noticed it on your finger, as the weight of what it represented settled on his shoulders. He knew that the asshole who proposed would quickly turn you against him, and this time you’d believe it because you loved that dick or-
Ben reconsidered. She didn’t love him because she came with you. She loved you.
He remembers again what it was like to be with you in  bed, when you whispered those words so tenderly to him and is struck with guilt all over again.
You had looked almost sheepish when you showed me the ring, like you were afraid to tell me-
Of course she was afraid to tell you. She wanted you to propose but you didn’t instead you fucking ruined her life and strung her along for 40 fucking years-
He never understood how you did that. Survived all those years with him while he fucked his way through everything that crossed his path. How you continued to stand by him when he was a dick to you and so many others. And yet you never let any other man into your life.
He remembers the night after you got between him and Noir, remembers asking you if you wanted to marry Howard, but you said no. The other things you said struck something within him. When you said you wanted someone to come home to, someone who would love you, a family. He remembers how you looked the night of your birthday in the restaurant, how you watched the couples around your table and smiled. He knew what you were thinking, and he had tried to show you that he could be that for you by taking your hand where it rested on the table even though it went against every instinct he had. He wanted so badly to give you those things, to make you happy. Ben didn’t want you to find that with anyone else. He would have loved to have a family with you, to be with you always the way you were always there for him, or were until he fucked it all up. He remembers asking you to marry him, apart of it had been a joke, just to gauge your reaction, but deep down he was curious. He hadn't expected it to hurt so much when you laughed him off.
Ben sighs. When you spoke about leaving Payback he was worried, worried that it meant you would leave him too and then who would he have? No one. It’s why he spent so many nights in your bed, with you curled up beside him. He didn’t want to be anywhere else.
He shuts the ring box with a snap and throws it back inside. The memory of the night you spent together is just on the edge begging to be let in. Ben indulged in that memory many times over the years, letting it strengthen him. Remembered every detail. It was the first time that he actually cared what someone else wanted in bed. He remembered how your cheeks blushed when you told him that you’d never had sex before and how you said that you wanted it to be him. He never imagined that you would want him the same way that he’d wanted you all those years.The exact reason why he drowned himself in so many other women, because he thought that’s what he needed to do. Because you deserved someone better than him, you always had.
The thought is immediately followed by what he yelled at you in the bathroom at the premiere, when he turned something that you believed to be special, one of the happiest nights of his life, into a cheap fuck.
He remembered the broken expression on your face. He'd never seen you look so small. Ben always admired how strong you were, but as soon as he said those things to you, he watched you crumble when he broke your heart.
Worse still was when he grabbed you. He fights the shudder, remembering how he grabbed onto your arms. As many times as you’d stood between him and the source of his anger, he’d never laid a hand on you but that night, he was just so damn frustrated. You were looking at him with those big eyes of yours that always saw through him, understood him, and he was frustrated because he wanted to tell you that he loved you that he always had loved you but he couldn’t. He couldn’t admit it because he was a man and damn it a man didn’t show emotions and he was Soldier Boy he didn’t need anyone-
His jaw clenches together so tight that he hears the click of his teeth.
But he did. He knew that all he needed was you.
I’m such a fucking asshole. Y/n doesn’t need me and I don’t deserve her-
Ben raises his head to look at your bedroom door as he hears the front door of your apartment swing open. And he freezes.
Because why would you want to see him? He had ruined your life.
***************************************
A/N: Alright everybody we made it to the chapter right before the reunion!!! What will happen? Will she forgive him? Who knows?! Even me, honestly. 😂
Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please let me know. :)
Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs @bughill126, @simplyfixated @sleepjam, @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts,@onlyangel-444 @lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress @my-obsession-spn @lifeonawhim @soldirboy @liuope @brynanna
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bisexualiteaa · 17 hours
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Hi honey, I just discovered your Cooper fics today and oh my gods. They're incredible, I love the way you write him ❤️. I was wondering, if you're still taking requests that is (no pressure like), if you could do a sub! Cooper x reader? Preferably male!reader or with male genitalia, but fem is totally okay if you're not comfortable with that 😁. I just think Coop with a taller, more muscular partner is neat.
I'm thinking the reader was secretly married to Coop and Barb beforehand, but lost part of their memories after they became a ghoul and one of the best bounty hunters around, wearing a mask. And all they remember about Coop is how beautiful his eyes were (Walton Goggins has the most gorgeous eyes ever, I swear 😫) So the reader wants the head too and tags along with the gang, eventually getting closer to Cooper. During a fight, reader gets hurt and Coop comes over to help them, but reader is finally close enough to properly see his eyes and realises it's him. Coop takes off the mask, reader remembers, there's tears, kisses, and eventually super soft, subby sex.
So, really just really angsty, then fluffy when they find each other after 200 years. Reader taking care of our baby girl Coop, and him just accepting the love and being a pillow princess. Maybe a little overstim and edging if we're feeling spicy 😉.
I'm so sick for this man, it's unhealthy. Thanks again for your amazing work, love. I absolutely made my day better! (Sorry for how long this ask is 🙃).
It’s Been a Long, Long Time
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Cooper Howard x Ghoul Fem Reader (angst-fluff!)
CW: pre-ghoul Cooper, established relationship, reader and Cooper were married and had a child together, character death, cursing, angst!! But don’t worry, it’s a happy ending, slight OOC Cooper, slight deviation from the TV series
AN: not me posting this at 3am before I leave for a trip for the weekend, I feel like I’ve depraved y’all! 😂 I wanted to post this to give y’all some good Cooper Content ™️ before I go on a three day hiatus for vacation! 🥺 Thank you all to the people who have submitted asks, I promise I am still working on them/towards getting to them! ❤️ In the meantime, I hope you all enjoy this one! @kinatanhi I hope I did your request justice! I know it’s a little tweaked from what you sent in and forgive me, I wrote this literally an hour ago at 2am because it finally came to me what I wanted to write, but seeing as it was written at 2am, y’all please forgive me if it isn’t my best work, I tried my best lol. 😭❤️
You smiled happily as you danced with your husband in your shared, quaint little kitchen, his hands coming to rest at your waist as they always did, and your arms looped around his neck. You were thankful that the producers on set of his movie, as well as his agent, allowed him to come home early in order to celebrate your birthday with you. You stood smiling up at him as you two danced- well, more like swayed, to the slow music playing from the radio. You lay your head against his chest, smiling as your eyes set on the gorgeous flowers that were lying on the kitchen counter that he brought home just for you. You smiled up at him when you caught him staring down at you with nothing but love and adoration in his gaze. “What’s that look for, hmm?” You asked with a playful smile, making him chuckle and flash that gorgeous smile of his that you loved so much, almost as much as his eyes that you swore you could be lost in forever. “Nothin’, just that I’m lucky enough to have married the most beautiful woman on this earth” he said, making you hum appreciatively at his cute answer. “Oh stop it, you charmer you” you replied, making him scoff in fake offense, making you giggle at his dramatics. “I’ll have you know I don’t go throwin’ that ‘round willy-nilly, little lady” he assured, making you smile wider at him as you laughed. “I know, I’m a lucky woman to call you my husband” you replied sweetly, getting up on your tip toes to kiss him as you looped your arms around his neck once more.
Those were better days, days when things were so simple, times where all you had to worry about was nothing more than how long the pie was in the oven, or how your baby was doing. It was a pleasant memory, one you’d never forget as the last time you’d seen your husband since the war. That night flooded your memories each time you’d lay down to close your sunken in eyes, they were the only thing about you now that remained as human as they were back before you became a ghoul. You swore to yourself that you’d find him one day, swore that you would kill the bastards that started all this, that took your baby girl away from you before she had a chance at a good life and separated you from your husband. You prayed each and every night that he was still out there, still alive somewhere, roaming the wastelands like you were. You knew it was doubtful at best, maybe it was better if he wasn’t alive to live through the shit you have, to see the way you look, but one could only hope for the better things. You no longer looked the same way you used to back then. Your soft, nearly perfect skin was now marred and leathery, your teeth yellowed from radiation exposure, poor diet and lack of ability to actually care for them, and your nose was now missing completely from your face, a deep hole sitting where the cartilaginous appendage once did. You wondered if he would even love you still in this state, if he’d even recognize you. You couldn’t blame him if he didn’t, you weren’t that same woman anymore physically or emotionally. Anger and vengeance had a hold on your heart like a vice death grip, you were kind to those who deserved it sure, but to those who crossed you? Those who hurt you? Let’s just say there’s a reason you’re a feared bounty hunter out here in the wastelands and not in a vault somewhere.
You were walking into Filly one late morning, coming to pay a visit with Ma June to see if there was anything she needed, any bounty she may have had for you for some extra caps. Your supply of chems to keep you from going feral was running low, you were down to your last bottle in your inhaler, and in desperate need of more. As you strode into town, you pulled your bandana up over your nose, effectively covering your face below your eyes, your large hat casting a shadow on the rest. You weaved your way through the vendors as they were trying to shove goods at you and anyone who was behind or around you. As you waded though, your ears caught the sound of a deep, southern accent that sounded awfully familiar to you. “I ain’t interested unless you got RadAway” he spoke harshly to the vendor haggling him, and you had to do a double take. He sounded just like your husband. You turned in the hopes to place a body to the voice but by the time you could, he was already lost into the crowd, impossible to find amongst the sea of people now that he wasn’t speaking to anyone anymore.
You huffed to yourself, wondering if maybe you were just hearing things, or maybe you were just plain out delusional at this rate. It wouldn’t shock you, between the years of radiation exposure, radiation sickness, and everything in between, you wouldn’t be shocked to find out you’d gone mad. However you wanted ever so badly for it to have been him that was speaking. To run up to him, arms outstretched, tears down your face but a happy smile as you called his name. But you couldn’t, you couldn’t even find the man attached to the voice anymore so why make a fool and draw attention to yourself. No one took kindly to ghouls. So with a heavy heart, you pushed on, making it to the doorstep of Ma June’s shop when you heard him again. “50 caps? That’s just plain ridiculous. 30, take it or leave it” he bartered, making you turn around again, only this time you caught him. You spotted a man that was tall, around the same height as your husband, clad in a wild western style cowboy outfit. You thought it was familiar, from the hat all the way down to the boots, it reminded you of him but a lot of people out here in the wastes wore Wild West themed clothes, deeming themselves cowboys and cowgirls of the wild wastelands. You wished he would turn around, you needed to see his face, hell just his eyes would be enough to sate the curiosity that was eating away at you. You’d forever recognize those eyes, they were so unique, so him. So beneath the shade you stood, observing him from a distance to be safe. That was until Ma June saw you standing there through the window of her shop, and she had a job for you that was important so she couldn’t wait for you to be done with whatever it was your were doing before she drug you inside. “What are you standin’ around out here for? I got a job for you!” She exclaimed, grabbing you and pulling you inside right as the man turned to walk away. You groaned in frustration as your only chance at an answer was stolen from you, but little did you know that your commotion made him stop to watch curiously as you went inside. Something about that dress you were wearing looked awful familiar to him but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, so he just kept walking.
As the next couple of days passed by, the curiosity was absolutely eating away at your mind. You wondered if you were on the brink of going feral with how your thoughts were screaming that it could have been him. You wished she would have waited until you could have gotten a better look at him than just his back and his clothes, though they felt familiar, akin to something he would have worn on the set to his movies, you just couldn’t be sure. So you continued on, traveling with a random person’s head in your bag, wrapped up in an old T-shirt that was soaked through with blood now as you were on your way back from your bounty for Ma June. It was a particularly hot day outside, one of those days where no matter how much water drank, you just couldn’t keep the heat away or the dehydration at bay. So as you sucked down the last of your water in your canteen, you did your best to stave off the coughing fit that was bubbling in the back of your throat like a horrible itch you just could never scratch. Unfortunately for you, it wasn’t enough, and seeing as you hit your inhaler for the last of your supply yesterday, you were shit out of luck. Damn it, you were so close too, you felt it. You couldn’t go like this, not without finding him, not without avenging your child and going after those Vault-Tec bastards that stole her and your husband from you. “Damn it!” You choked out as you clutched your chest, your coughing fit sending you to your knees in the sand where you laid in the hopes that it would let up sometime soon and you could continue moving. This couldn’t be the end for you, it just couldn’t be. You wouldn’t let it.
As you laid there, throat burning as you were hacking up your lungs, you saw a figure walking along the horizon in the distance. You wondered if maybe this was what they spoke of when people said their loved ones come and take them away right before they pass, or maybe it was just another hallucination, all you knew is that they were coming closer and closer to you. You reached for your gun with all the strength you could offer through your coughing fit and weakened state, unsure of whether they were a raider or someone with just plain ill intention. As they drew closer, you looked up to see another ghoul stabbing before you, his cowboy hat casting a slight shade over his face but even through the tears in your vision you could see his eyes. They were gorgeous, they looked just like how you remember your husband’s looked the last time you had a chance to look into them, making you look him over but it was so hard to tell. He was a man who had succumbed to the same fate you did, leathery skin, no nose, ruined ears, but his eyes…god they were so familiar. You saw him cock his head while looking at you, investigating your features, you could tell there was something about you that he was intrigued with.
“I feel your pain there, sister” he said, that southern drawl coming out sounding just like him, and god how it made your heart ache. He bent down to see you better, taking a better look at you. “I’ll be damned if somethin’ ‘bout you ain’t familiar though” he said, making you look up at him, and in that moment as he looked into your eyes, he could have sworn it was you, his long lost wife. He held hope it his heart, but it was a cruel world out here, he couldn’t be sure. “Your eyes, they look a lot like my wife’s did” he said, and you took that as your chance to see if it was really him. “C-Coo…per…?” You rasped out the best you could, needing to know if it was really him, needing to know if he was alive or if you were just going crazy. His eyes went wide for a moment before reaching for his gun, making your heart jump in your chest with anxiety. “How do you know my name?” He asked coldly, his eyes looking angrily upon you and it made your heart wrench in your chest but beat fast all the same to know it was him. “Tell me! How do you know my name?” He said angrily, making you raise your hands up to show you weren’t dangerous, you cursed your inability to speak properly or else you’d have answered his question already. “Be..cause…we were…Mar…ried” you rasped out once more, showing him your wedding ring that he bought you that rested on your ring finger, making him soften up for just a moment. “After two hundred years… could it really be?” he asked softly to himself in disbelief, but once again, he reminded himself that this world was a cruel place where people stoop to things lower than they ever did before. To him, you could have been anyone, maybe no more than a random stranger who pick pocketed that precious ring off of his wife, a total stranger playing as his beloved to get to his weakness. He pointed his gun at you once more, making tears come to your eyes even more now, had you said something wrong? Why was he mad at you? You hadn’t left on bad terms last you remember, but then again it’s hard to remember as far back as two centuries. “How do I know, huh?” He asked aggressively, and you figured it was a valid worry, you knew how awful this world was now, you couldn’t blame him for needing the reassurance. He needed to be sure it was truly you. “How do I know it’s really you?” He asked, waiting for you to stop coughing long enough to give him an answer. “What’s…that look…for?” You asked, something you always asked him when he stared at you in awe, or when he looked at you right before you two went to bed, it was like your signature phrase. You weakly removed the bandana covering your face, trying your best to show him any bit of your features left that you could use to show him it was really you. “It’s me…Coop. Y/N…” you rasped as saliva began to well in your mouth at the sight of him, slowly losing control over yourself as time passed. He’d never dropped his gun so fast, or fell to his knees so quick in his entire life than in that moment, the only other time was the moment he found out you were pregnant with his child, dropping to his knees to kiss your belly and place his hands on it excitedly. “Oh my god…Y/N” he said in utter shock and disbelief that you were here, you were alive. You were a ghoul now which hurt him to know you suffered the same pain as him, but you were alive and that’s what mattered most to him, finally having found you after all the years spent hoping you were still alive out here.
“Here baby, here, hold on. I gotchya” he said, quickly grabbing his inhaler with a vial of the chems you’d run out of last night, never needing it more than in this moment to keep you from turning feral on him. He pressed it to your lips, pushing the plunger on it to get the chems in your system. You inhaled it like a breath of fresh cool air, sending you coughing once more but that itch was slowly fading away, you could breathe again. You looked up at him as you laid there weakly, your head in his lap. “My hero” you said weakly, trying to be funny but he was too caught up in looking into your eyes, getting himself to believe what was right in front of him. “Two centuries I’ve spent looking for you…” you said, your eyes scanning him and his features to assure yourself too that this was real, that he really was sitting here before you, alive and well. Or as well as one could be as a ghoul in the wastelands. You smiled as you teared up, seeing the tears in his eyes as he looked down at you, pulling you up and into a hug. “Oh god…I can’t believe you’re alive” he said, hugging you tight and you did the same, burying your face into his shoulder. “I could say the same to you. I always knew you were stubborn, too stubborn to go out the way the rest of the world did” you said, making him chuckle as stray tears ran down your marred cheeks. “I’ve been dreaming of this day…dreaming of the day I’d get to see you and B/N again…” he said, making you grip his duster as the tears flooded down your face even more when he said your baby girl’s name. “Cooper…” you said, making him pull away from you but you weren’t far, he made sure of it. “She…she didn’t make it, honey…I’m so sorry. I tried everything, believe me I did, but it was too late…” you said, making his heart absolutely break in his chest knowing his baby was gone and that he would never have the chance to see her again.
“What was she like? She was so young when it all happened” He asked, holding your hands in his as you two shared in this moment together. You smiled as your hand cupped his cheek softly, your thumb rubbing along his skin that shared the same texture as your own. “Just like her daddy. She had your gorgeous eyes, your beautiful smile and that same stubborn attitude” you said through a laugh, making him chuckle with you as his hand came to hold the back of yours as it touched him. He missed your loving touch, and that beautiful smile that he swore could light up even the darkest rooms. He could hardly believe that you’d still even touch or speak to him now, with the way he looked. He knew you likely held a sympathy for it, knowing all too well yourself what it was like but the fact that you weren’t scared or hateful like others were towards him for it. “She was smart, funny, kind…she was daddy’s baby girl. You’d have loved that about her. It was like a little slice of you was there in her, keeping me going. She gave me hope when it felt like there wasn’t any left in this world to hold onto” you said, seeing a few stray tears stream down his cheeks as you spoke of her. His stomach was in knots, his heart filled with anger and pain to know the wastelands claimed one of his own. “I wish I coulda been there, for both of you. Maybe she’d be here if I was” he said somberly, guilt lacing his tone as he leaned his forehead against yours, not caring if your hats would come off. He needed this, he needed you. “Hey, don’t blame yourself for what happened, you had nothing to do with it. It’s those vile people at Vault-Tec who did this. They took our baby, not you. Don’t you ever think this is your fault” you assured him, holding him close to you as he expressed the most emotion he’s felt in nigh on two centuries.
“We made it pretty good all things considered, held our own well for ten years. I taught her how to use a gun when she turned eight to keep her safe should anything happen to me, did everything in my power to keep her safe, fed and hydrated even on the hard days where supplies were sparse” you explained. “The radiation just became too much for her little body to handle. She was ten years old, I could hardly believe it. It was like I woke up one day and she wasn’t a baby anymore, our little girl had just grown up so fast” you said, remembering those days as tears clouded your vision, streaming down your cheeks like small rivers, watching the droplets fall into the sand beneath you. “I’m sorry Cooper, I’m so sorry…” you apologized, making him hold you tight and hush you as you did. “I shoulda been better…if I was better maybe she’d still be here now” you said, taking the blame for something you knew you had no control over, but it left you guilty all the same. “Shh, don’t go thinkin’ like that. I’d say from the sounds of it, ya did a damn fine job managin’ that long out in this shit hole just the two of you. You always were a great mom, and an equally great wife” he said, making you sniffle as you smiled at him at that reassurance. “I did all I could, there was hell to pay for anyone who stood in my way, that’s for sure” you said, making him chuckle because that was exactly how you were before the war too. You always wanted what was best for your family, and you were willing to go great lengths to keep your husband and child happy. “I know you said you been lookin’ for me for a long time…but I ain’t the same man I was back then” he started. “But I got a feelin’ you ain’t exactly the same woman anymore either, so maybe we can still work this out, you and me” he said, making you chuckle. “No, I’m not. And if that means you don’t love me anymore I-“ you spoke but you were cut off by the feel of his lips against your own. They were thinner now, dry and marred by radiation just like yours were, but you could still feel the passion behind it, the love in it. No amount of radiation could ever take that away. “You lettin’ all the radiation get to that brain of yours? Of course I still love you. I lost ya once, I ain’t losin’ you again, that’s for damn sure” he said, making you laugh as more tears fell, only these ones were happier ones now. You squeezed his hand that was in your own as your heart raced in your chest. “You have no idea how happy that makes me to hear, Coop” you replied, kissing him once more with all the passion two hundred years of separation could hold behind it. “I love you, and I’ve missed you so damn much” you said, pressing your foreheads together once more as you fought the tears that began to turn into a sob. “I love you too darlin’, missed you like crazy. The world ain’t been the same without you” he said, making you sniffle as you felt the same way. “And if you’ll still have me, I’d like to make that a world of the past” he added, making you chuckle tearfully. “Of course I will” you said, allowing his heart to rest assured that you were still his girl, making him smile as he looked down at you, his thumb rubbing along your cheek to wipe away your tears.
You smiled back up at him, your hand coming to the back of his as you remembered the moment from your birthday again all those years ago, slow dancing in the kitchen with him. “What’s that look for, hmm?”You asked, just like you did that day, making him grin as he thought of the right words to say. “Nothin’ just that I’m lucky enough to have married the most beautiful person on this earth” he replied, making you chuckle. It was just what you’d been needing to hear all this time. “And how lucky I am to have her back in my arms where she belongs” he added, making you giggle before kissing you once more. Desert be damned, Cooper had his wife back after so long spent searching for her, and he was going to make damn sure she knew how much he missed her all these years.
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dinogoofymutated · 1 day
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So I'm warming up to the idea of Cable now with this new animation style. And now I can't help but imagine a mutant reader seeing him shirtless for the first time 👉🏽👈🏽. Maybe she's helping him treat a wound he cant reach on his back and he's too worn out to rely on his telekinesis for it. Sure she knows that he has a metal arm. Techno-organic viruses were nasty business. But she never imagined she'd get to see the stark contrast of metal and flesh up close. Just a tender moment where she gets to see him at his most vulnerable. Preferably sfw. Sorry if this is too long winded or specific. Really love your writing and enjoy what you share with us regardless if u choose this one or not 🫶🏽
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SFW!Cable/GN!Reader OOOOGHHHH when I tell you I have been thinking about this since you sent me the ask!! I've been dying to write this but forced myself to follow a schedule :( I've never really been a Cable girly but this scenario has been in my head non-stop! I just hope this fic does the same to others!!! Speaking of which, I hope this isn't too OOC for him! This also might get a pt 2 with some smooching 😘
Read pt. 2 Here :)
-Ps- Heads up, finals week is coming up for me and I have a lot of essays and work to do. my writing is sadly going to slow down a bit. I don't think I'm going to close requests for now but it's not out of the realm of possibility! TWs: Can't really think of any. Gross depictions of techno-organic shit. As always, Reader written while picturing fem! but no pronouns mentioned. The reader is short in this one, sorry to all my Amazonian friends.
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    Prime sentinels were like wasps. Squashing one could be relatively easy with the right tools, but it was difficult to handle multiples at once. It had been a rough day, and your ears were still ringing from the sounds of blaster fire when you got to the safe house. Your hands are shaking from the adrenaline, body exhausted from overusing your mutant powers. Bruises are forming all over you, and despite the pain and soreness, you know you got off easy compared to Cable. 
    He’s got an arm slung around your shoulder, using you as a crutch as you help him limp over to the table- although you’re sure you’re not a very good one, too short for him to properly lean on. His gun clanks on the floor as he sits, grunting as the movement sends shooting pains through his body. You can tell his left arm is aching, the techno-organic virus fighting to beat the telekinetic powers keeping them still. You weren’t the only one who overdid it today, but you also weren’t the one who had to keep a virus from eating you alive.
    Once Cable is settled, the routine starts. You cautiously make a round through the safe house, making sure blinds are drawn and entryways secured. Usually, the task was split between the two of you, being faster and safer than it would be alone- but he would take it over when you were badly hurt. It was only natural that you would do the same. You feel the sting of anxiety and worry in your heart. Cable had saved your ass today. He had done so many times, but normally the fighting wasn’t this extreme. You had been stupid, and he was suffering the consequences. 
    A series of pained grunts lead you back into the kitchen once you’ve finished, and you can tell Cable is pissed just by the tone of them. You’re facing his back when you walk in, noticing the large red stain that spans across the width of his shoulders. You try to hide the worry on your face as you approach him. He has the medkit sprawled out on the counter, sorting through the various items in it.
    “Can’t believe this thing doesn’t have a damn mirror.” He grunts. You hum in response, looking him over before examining the items on the table.
    “What do you need a mirror for?” You ask, voice coming out a little hoarse. You clear your throat, must be from the smoke earlier. Cable sends you a look, tossing his head towards his back. You mouth an “oh” before looking at him, unable to hide your worried expression. You’d seen him stitch his wounds up with his telekinesis before, when the fight was all guns and no powers. An action like that was child’s play for someone of his capabilities. For him to actively avoid it, and the way his arm seemed to be bothering him more than normal… It made you worried. It made you feel guilty. 
    You look down at the suture kit, open on the table from where Cable had unzipped it, and then look back at him, wordlessly asking. He gives you a cautious look for a moment, before it shifts into something much softer. He doesn’t bother nodding, choosing to simply take his shirt off instead.
    You blush a little but quickly get to work, grabbing a pair of gloves and pulling them on. They’re too big for you, meant to fit Cable’s sturdy hands instead of your own smaller ones. You try not to get distracted by the sight of him shirtless as you pick up what you need and get behind him. The air has shifted between the two of you, forming into something a little more intimate. Something that builds itself on words unspoken, truths that neither of you is quite ready to communicate yet.
    His back is broad and beautiful, dotted with scars and bruises. The gash on his shoulders is from a stray blast, starting at the top of his left shoulder and ending at the lower shoulder blade of his right. 
    You’re not sure if you had been ready to see the cut-off between flesh and metal.
    The cords of metal attach to the skin of his shoulder in a way that makes your skin crawl. They sprout from underneath the skin, winding against each other in a way that makes no clear sense to you. The top layers of skin are rough, keloid scarring having formed at the impasse of skin and metal. It's horrific, the way the virus has both eaten and forced its way under the skin. The top of the gash is somewhat deep, the deep inner cording revealed by the wound cutting through the top of his skin has you unable to look away despite the horror that has taken you.
   “I can feel you staring, you know.” Cable’s rumbling voice causes you to snap back to reality.
    “Right. Sorry. I didn’t mean to…” You trail off, not fully able to place the words. He sighs, and you mistake it for annoyance. You quickly get back on track and begin to disinfect the wound. Cable hardly flinches as you do so. You’re overly cautious as you stitch him up, focusing on each stitch being perfectly placed. You know they wouldn’t stay for long. Cable had a habit of tearing his stitches. You hope that maybe you’d be able to keep that from happening this time.
   You place both hands on his shoulder blades when you are done. The nerves have worn off as the pseudo-doctor in you took over. You’re trying to examine the stitches, but find that your attention keeps being drawn back to that stark contrast of his shoulder. If Cable notices, he doesn’t say anything. You glance at the back of his head, trying to gauge what he’s feeling. 
    Your left hand drifts a little. Cable shudders as your thumb gently traces that line of scarring, the metal of his arm feeling extra cold compared to the heat of his skin. You’re waiting for him to say something. To tell you to back off. To grumble and shake you off and avoid speaking to you like he used to when you first started to work together- when he was so determined not to get attached. 
   But he doesn’t say anything. Not at first, anyway. The tenseness of his shoulders slowly gives as the gently touching morphed into more purposeful touches, working the stiff muscles- what was left of the organic ones, anyway. 
    It’s intimate. It’s quiet. It’s… nice. Part of you wishes it would last a little longer. Part of you wishes he would let you touch him like this more often. 
    Cable stiffens again as the thought crosses your mind, recoiling away from you. He stands suddenly, turning around to face you. His towering stature used to make you nervous out of fear. Now you’re nervous for a completely different reason. Part of you had forgotten about the glimpses he takes into your mind. A flicker of anxiety ignites when you realize how much he might have seen. The two of you just look at each other for a moment, his brown eyes hard compared to the softness from earlier. You hadn’t meant to think so much. You didn’t think he was horrific. It was the virus. What it was doing to him. The energy and effort it takes out of him. That was what scared you.
    Cable was used to the stares. The horror. Most recoiled at the sight of his flesh. It only made sense to him when you did too.
    But Nathan… Nathan wasn’t ready for the depth of your thoughts. The care in your eyes. He wasn’t ready for the depth of his own feelings. The ones that cause such a storm within him. The ones that cause him to be stupid. The ones that make him focus more on saving you than the goal of every mission.
    “Is this… Are we okay?” You ask. He didn’t need to be a telepath to sense the fear that has swelled within you. Most of your emotions were always written on your face. It made things easier for him when he didn’t have to search for your thoughts. That hardness in his eyes softens yet again, and he glances away for a moment. 
    “... Yeah.” Is all he says. His heart feels light when you finally smile at him, even though an underlying nervousness still resides behind that smile. You let out a relieved sigh, and he can’t bear to look at you any longer. Instead, he sits back down. He faces away from you, giving you the space to finish taking care of the wound on his back. 
    You don’t realize how late it is until you’re finished, and the mess on the counter has been cleaned and contained back in the medkit. The two of you sit together as you eat. The food isn’t great- consisting of an MRE that’s not exactly as advanced as the futuristic weapons and technology would lead you to believe. He doesn’t say anything when you lean on his shoulder, or when your breathing evens out, having fallen asleep on his side.
  The aches and pains don’t really bother Nathan as he carries you to bed, but the thoughts of you, your feelings, your thoughts… Those keep him awake longer than any wound would.
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If you do take requests at this moment, can I request a Hualian x GN reader where reader feels like the third wheel, and when Hualian look further into reader, they find out that reader is hurting themselves/trying to change in the way they look
That Hualian would baby reader, like take sharp objects out of arm’s reach, or spoon feed reader when it’s time to eat. Giving reader kisses and words of affirmation every time they’re around
Lol, I’m feeling very angsty, but if this request is a little too far, you don’t have to do it (I hope you’re doing great! Make sure to drink enough water!) 🥰
Shape Shifting Heart
HuaLian x gn!reader
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Ignore grammar mistakes
Slight OOC
Made up looks about reader for plot
Tyyy Pepsi zero has become my hydration 😔🙏
Also I'm so sorry for disappearing but I've had like the worst few months of my life ever so 😃🙏 bear with me
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Being with Xie Lian and San Lang is the best thing that has ever happened to you. There's so much love to go around with three people and everyone is always taking care of each other! So you never listened to people being hateful about it, whether that be other gods or ghosts. You guys are happy and that all that matters right?
What happens when all of you aren't happy, when it's just one person bringing down the mood and the whole relationship? That's how you've been feeling lately. You haven't been much use to Xie Lian and San Lang these days. Often, you've been curled up in bed and staying hidden under the covers. For what reason? They don't know. You won't talk to them, and while Xie Lian and San Lang pride themselves on knowing you inside and out they can't figure out what's wrong.
You can't tell them. It's kind of embarrassing, humiliating even. How do you tell your lovers, "I feel like the third wheel, I feel neglected and left out" to the two kindest people you've ever met. Everything you do seems to make it worse and you're trying your best so you don't understand why it seems to put your relationship more on edge.
You had honestly just wanted to sulk and pout for a few days in bed over something silly. When they stopped visiting the bedroom it became a problem. All you do is lie here so what could possibly have made them want to leave you alone? You aren't even doing anything to warrant them off! Xie Lian and San Lang easily coddle each other all the time so why don't they think to do it with you? They stopped coming to the shared bedroom, even going as far to sleep in another bedroom together, but by themselves without you.
It only made you feel worse, are you so depressed and off putting they don't want to be near you now? Sadness becomes frustration and it fuels you to get out of bed in what has been weeks. You leave the room disheveled and groggy hoping to find one of your lovers to receive some affection, to you it feels like you haven't had in forever.
You find them together in the kitchen, an awfully domestic scene. Xie Lian cooking dinner and San Lang attached by the hip. The way San Lang holds Xie Lian's waist and stays close while Xie Lian bustles around the kitchen. Where you had once been and would usually love to hear the sound of their laughs and love filled giggles all it sounds like is mocking joy of what you once felt. How many nights has it been like this? How many nights have they been content without you?
"Making dinner without me?" You pipe up, leaning against the kitchen counter. Making dinner is a silly thing to be upset about. A part of you feels awful for being so jealous but the other doesn't. It's not like you're jealous of San Lang or jealous of Xie Lian. You don't spite a specific person. You're just jealous of the love they share, of their bond. You're envious of their happiness, you just want to be included too!
"Ah, y/n!", Xie Lian gives a wobbly smile, "Of course not" Xie Lian didn't know how to bring up that they've been trying to give you space. He doesn't know how to say it in a way that would sound reasonable to you. These days you've been a little irritated and you easily take words they say but add a whole new meaning to it. They know it's not your fault, it's one of your episodes maybe.
No one moves. They don't know whether to extend a hand to invite you or not but you seem to take it upon yourself. You walk closer and stick right up to Xie Lian's and San Lang's side. The tension - you can't tell if you're imagining it or not, you've been imagining a lot these days - is thick. "Well I feel a little better so I'll join from now on, what are you making?" You try to make conversation, you try to move closer in hopes that the domestic scene will just continue.
It doesn't. The room is tense and so are your lovers. You hate it. It makes you want to lash out, cry, and scream. Xie Lian and San Lang seem to be walking on eggshells around you and you don't know why. You've never gotten angry with them before, you've never been violent or aggressive with them so why are they acting like you're a ticking bomb?
San Lang attempts to break the tense atmosphere first. Wrapping hesitant hands around your waist and nuzzling into your hair, hair he will not mention is a bit notty. "We missed you" he murmurs into your long, bright locs. "We're glad you feel better" this seems to get the night moving smoothly again. It's pathetic how quickly you melt into San Lang's touch and preen at his words. It finally feels like you're included in the domestic picture they make.
The three of you eat dinner and enjoy it, Xie Lian's cooking has been getting a lot better but that's probably because you and San Lang were in the kitchen to help him. You're filled with a deep satisfaction when Xie Lian gently grabs your hand and all of you go to your shared bedroom together. Xie Lian pulls you into bed and They cuddle up next to you under the covers, placing gentle kisses on your face and shoulders.
You feel suddenly energetic because of the affection you're receiving. Making you giggle and kissing them back with new found passion. You won't lie you guys haven't had sex in a while so. . . You easily climb on San Lang, and straddle his hips. Kissing him eagerly and nipping against his lips. They weren't expecting you to be so eager but who are they to deny you.
Xie Lian gets behind you and slips off your robe, running his hands over your body. Your back, arms, hips, and thighs- your thighs. Xie Lian's hands freeze, and moves his hands as if he's been scalded. The sudden movement catches San Lang's attention and he sits up but he keeps you in his lap. "Gege what's wrong?" San Lang stares at Xie Lian and suddenly all the attention is off you. Somewhere inside you, you feel a little miffed at Xie Lian's reaction.
But you're concerned too so you turn your head to your other lover with concerned eyes, however Xie Lian is the one staring at you with pity. He turns on the light and sits next to San Lang. "His thighs, San Lang. . ." You scrunch your face. Of course that's what Xie Lian reacted so strongly about. While you were rotting in bed you were feeling so down in the dumps. So- so maybe you took it out on yourself and used your sword on your own skin.
It's not that big of a deal, they're already healed and just remain thick scars across your thighs but it matters to your lovers greatly. They've explored your body many times, and they know these are new. "Baobei, what happened?" Xie Lian cups your face with gentle hands but you turn your head the other way. You're irritated the night has stopped over something so trivial. "Nothing important, I was just feeling upset a few weeks ago, it's trivial now. Can't we just- can we not focus on that?"
Your face is scrunched in irritation and you try to roll your hips against San Lang but he removes you from his lap and onto the silk covers. You groan in frustration. The night was going perfectly and now it's all messed up! San Lang's eyes narrow as he gazes over your legs, and you swallow nervously. "This isn't something we can just ignore Y/n. You know that. . . Let's stop here for tonight" If it were San Lang saying it you wouldn't have minded as much but it's Xie Lian.
Xie Lian loves San Lang's body even with the scars on it so why won't he love yours?! "We don't have to stop! Just- ignore it, would you please?! I can get rid of them, I can look like whatever you want me to be! " You never notice when you start heaving for breath, when tears line your eyes and you try to cling to one of your lovers. You don't notice when you subconsciously change your body into something else because it's something you've always had the power to do.
So when your skin becomes smooth again, and unmarked it's something you don't even look over. But for Xie Lian and San Lang it's completely different. It's like looking at a stranger's body. Like looking at somebody who's never worked a day in their life, someone who has never gone to battle, something you are not but you're desperately trying to be. You have no scars, and the callouses on your hands have disappeared. They've memorized everything on you and now you've made yourself look completely different.
To you, it feels like they look at you with disgust and anger. You're breaking down and it's not something you're even registering. "Y/n stop!" San Lang gives up on keeping you on the bed and he lets you crawl into his lap, he cups your face with surprisingly gentle hands that contradict his angry voice. "Breathe Baobei" he rubs comforting circles into your hips and Xie Lian rubs your back. They're trying to get you to breathe and to stop hyperventilating.
San Lang never looks away from you, and he plants tiny kisses in your cheeks to get rid of your tears. When did you start crying? You don't remember. You eventually calm down from listening to your lovers instructions and their loving touches. When you're finally breathing normally again and the tension leaves your body they try talking to you again. Xie Lian rubs his fingers through your hair, he doesn't like how you've easily changed yourself. He misses your bright locs not the dark ones you've decided to take on. He kisses your head. "I want to talk to my Y/n now. Can I?" Xie Lian asks sweetly.
You've always been you but he wants to talk to his lover not the made up version of yourself. You sniffle and San Lang pats your waist. You take the encouragement and change back to your original body. When you make a weird noise in your throat that sounds close to a sob Xie Lian wraps around you and kisses your nape. "That's good Baobei, we're proud of you." San Lang and Xie Lian glance at each other and in that moment decide to drop the topic about your new found scars. They can only try to find the root of the issue now.
San Lang kisses your forehead and then below your eyes and then your lips. "Tell us what's wrong?" San Lang poses it as a question. As in, you don't have to but it would greatly help them if you did. You feel pathetic and selfish. You don't know why you broke down over something so silly and foolish. "I-I felt, I felt like a t-third wheel. You guys seem so happy without me and all I do is mess up, I'm sorry " you start to cry again and you rub at your eyes harshly but San Lang holds your wrists gently and keeps them away from your eyes.
Xie Lian kisses your shoulder. "There's nothing to be sorry for baobei. No one's at fault." He runs his hands over your thighs, making circles with his fingers. "We didn't mean to make you feel left out, we just wanted to give you space. We thought that's what you needed" Xie Lian explains softly. You nod and sniffle. That's more reasonable than whatever your mind came up with. San Lang pulls you closer by the waist. "If we make you feel like that tell us Baobei, we'll fix it immediately" he says with narrowed eyes. You know he isn't upset with you and he's probably beating himself up for not being able to tell. You kiss him deeply and sigh against his lips.
"M'sorry, I know you love me I just- my mind tells me awful things." You whisper in San Lang's lips and kiss him again. San Lang grunts and playfully tugs a piece of your hair. "Should I beat it up for you?" It makes you giggle.
🦊🪷
For the next few days and even few weeks they baby you endlessly. Xie Lian keeps an eye on sharp objects and makes sure you can't get into the weapons room. He also confiscated your sword and he won't even let you hold knives in the kitchen. The only sword you're allowed to be around is E'ming and they know you wouldn't do that to him or San Lang.
They have no problem with dragging you everywhere they go and often San Lang likes to feed you during meals. At first you blushed and insisted you could do it yourself but San Lang waved your concerns away and said "Let me take care of you". They coddle you a lot and one of them is always in the room with you. You know now that you need to work on your communication and not let your mind get to you. It was a big misunderstanding but San Lang and Xie Lian treat it as if it was a genuine problem.
You're suffocated with love but you wouldn't change it for the world.
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riddlerosehearts · 2 months
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floyd/riddle valentine's day headcanons 💙❤️
(okay, this post is more overly detailed than i originally planned because i ended up writing a whole scenario about what their first valentine's day after they start dating could be like. but i still want to share it, so here it is.)
riddle is somewhat conflicted about valentine's day. on the one hand, he was always a bit of a romantic, and as a kid there were times when he dreamed that someday he'd have a special someone to spend this holiday with. but he's changed since he was a kid, and regardless of how he might or might not feel, this year he happens to have an exam coming up in a few days and thinks that studying for it would be a more practical use of his time.
besides, floyd will also be busy working at the mostro lounge that evening. each year they hold a special valentine's event with discounts for couples, and floyd seems to be very focused on helping jade and azul plan for it. what makes valentine's day so important, anyway, when the one you love should be special to you every day? they can just go on a date whenever they like.
he still wants to try and respect the rules of the holiday, though. he knows from books he's read that it would be wrong of him not to get his boyfriend a gift, and he also knows that it's a popular tradition to make handmade chocolates for your partner on valentine's day.
so he buys some chocolate-making supplies and molds--the molds are shaped like hearts and roses, so they're sure to make floyd think of riddle when he eats them. and he does the best he can, knowing floyd will still love them even if they're not perfectly made.
he also buys a card with a simple yet elegant red and gold design, and makes sure it's blank inside rather than having a cheesy prewritten message, so that he can write his own message thanking floyd for bringing so much excitement and joy into his life.
the card he picks probably looks something like this:
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he plans to take the chocolate and the card, along with one white rose and one red rose from heartslabyul's gardens, to floyd in the morning and see if they can plan to spend a day together after the exam.
while on his way there, he starts to feel a little embarrassed and wonder if the roses are too much. he doesn't really care about the holiday (or so he claims, but he sure did spend a lot of time preparing for it) and surely floyd doesn't care beyond exploiting it for business purposes, so this is a bit silly, isn't it?
wrong! for floyd's part, they don't have valentine's day in the coral sea, so he's actually been pretty excited for it--which riddle had guessed, since for the last few days he's been constantly asking riddle for advice on decorations and menu items for mostro lounge's event as well as spending quite a lot of his spare time there, presumably helping prepare things.
what riddle fails to realize is that floyd's excitement is about far more than just making money at the lounge.
so, riddle is standing outside floyd's door and about to knock when floyd suddenly comes rushing out and absolutely lights up upon seeing riddle there.
he doesn't even give riddle a chance to get a word in before tearing the gifts from his hands, popping a rose-shaped chocolate in his mouth, and doing a goofy little laugh as he tells riddle he loves him. riddle hopes floyd doesn't see the blush on his face.
"goldfishieee!" he exclaims. "i got you something too, and i just know you'll love it!!"
he runs back into his dorm room and comes out holding a small, very messily-wrapped box of store-bought white chocolate truffles, a plushie of a pink hedgehog holding a heart, and an envelope containing one of those fancy pop-out valentine's cards--specifically, one with a goofy pun on it. i'm picturing something like these:
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riddle opens the card and rolls his eyes at the pun while trying to pretend that he's not smiling fondly at it.
he's about to ask about their plans when floyd leans over and drapes his arms around riddle's shoulders, and then says that he absolutely has to come to the lounge tonight for a very special surprise.
riddle is genuinely shocked at this, but he agrees, somewhat reluctantly because he's supposed to be studying--but also secretly excited at the thought of floyd having planned something just for him. he has to enlist cater's help to find something decent to wear.
floyd grabs riddle by the arm and drags him over to a table within seconds of him getting to the lounge. jade takes their order, they talk and tease each other and laugh together like they always do, and they also have fun chatting with some of their other friends who are sitting nearby with their own dates.
riddle almost forgets that floyd was supposed to have some kind of surprise for him, until floyd suddenly excuses himself and then shows back up a few minutes later with a small heart-shaped cake, covered in strawberries and other elaborate decorations.
it turned out that floyd had baked and decorated this cake for him. riddle felt guilty because he'd already eaten more than he meant to for the day, and especially because this must have taken much more work than the chocolates and roses he'd given floyd.
he tells him as much but then floyd tells him he's being silly before snatching the fork from his hand and going "if you're not going to eat it then i guess i'll have to!"
riddle feels a flash of anger because floyd can't just try to take his food, there are rules against such a thing. he takes the fork back and tries a bite of the cake, reasoning that it would be rude not to. it's strawberry flavored and possibly the best thing he's ever tasted.
when they leave the lounge that evening, they end up going back to heartslabyul together and for some reason floyd all of a sudden decides that they're playing tag and makes riddle have to chase him into the rose garden.
floyd didn't have any extra surprise for him, he just wanted riddle to keep having fun with him for a little while longer.
at the end of the day, riddle finds that he doesn't regret having lost a bit of study time for this, and he makes sure to tell floyd how grateful he is. he has to admit to himself that maybe there is something special about valentine's day after all.
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if scars don't make man look good then being alive sure does
#mafia 2#henry tomasino#frank vinci#there's going to be a lot of text in hashtags here so first of all:#i gave up at things like “they wouldn't do/say that” at this point#ooc and “what if” are more interestning and entertaining for me sorry mafia fandom#i like to spin the plot and characters like a rubik's cube#so stopping w rat!henry and continue with survived!henry who's true purpose was to became the head of falcone family#so the drug thing was just a way to frame falcone and get vinci to the point where he decided to do away with falcone#because of the increased drug traffic#henry always struck me as the most conservative of the (relatively) young mobsters#so i guess he wouldn't have gone on about the drugs and gotten vinci's sympathy because of it#yet henry didn't expect an attack from the triads and the fact that he survived only reinforced his religiosity#now he wears a rosary and prays more often than he used to#<- i'm actually too lazy to think about the details of how it might work so whatever#and I know the mafia chief's photo wasn't on the wall#but it's more symbolism about the change of power and prioritizing religiosity over personality#i just think he could be a good leader + there's a lot about his pride here#and tbh i just wanted to see him with the scars but my brain can't do anything without a plot#and sunglasses instead of an eye patch#and yeah my brain refuses to believe that he was just overconfident and really believed that there would be no repercussions ->#for selling drugs under the nose of falcone who clearly wanted to become a monopoly in this field#also i don't really care that much about henry surviving tbh#i mean his death fits the story well because it's after all a mob story (no matter was he a rat or not)#(i'm being a bit of a hypocrite here bc i refuse to believe that joe is dead)#“survive and take power” version is just interestning for me#but if i put aside all of this ooc#naah he was too pathetic to do this fr#k im too lazy to write anything further#thank you for coming to my ted talk
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talentforlying · 2 months
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one of these days i'm going to write up all that i've changed from azzarello's bullshit era and the one (1) piece i've kept from milligan (and also changed) and the only thing currently stopping me is that it is going to be so, so inside-baseball incomprehensible. and i almost never want to go reading/screencapping azzarello and milligan to add references but i Want to add references.
canon is goop, just know that we continue to ride the bus down "hellblazer ended at #250 and looks like swiss cheese before that" street.
#( ooc. ) OUT OF CIGS.#i'm doing page maintenance before i fuck off to work rip it's got me thinking#anyway i think i said WAY back on this blog that a side goal of mine is to make hellblazer lore accessible to non-comic readers where i can#bc it's such a Heavy comic & i love it so much & i always felt Terrible recommending it to people only for them to be disgusted#and like. @ past me that particular goal is NOT as easy as you thought it would be lmao#esp because i have a habit of getting VERY detail-oriented when it comes to talking about hellblazer i think#but by GOD it's still a goal. i can put in some motherfucking references here and there when i talk about The Lore#like. azzarello's writing style never translates well for me in synopsis bc he Loves to put the audience in the outside perspective#where we are bystanders/with the rest of the bystanders to constantine's actions and not to his motivations/inner monologue#and i HATE that. hellblazer has ALWAYS been about what this guy has going on underneath the masked exterior#all the things you can't say out loud when you're queer and working class trying to survive in 70s-80s-90s england#but that you FEEL with your WHOLE fucking chest. how that feeling drives you to enjoy little rebellions wherever you can get them#(also azzarello just fucking Sucks LMAO but i'm talking style rn)#so i end up relying on frusin's art to tell the story a little more bc i think he understands the Theatre of constantine's public persona#and when that theatre is Absent then it's really REALLY noticeable. so frusin keeps me in it most of the time#and if i'm digging into frusin art then i'm Going to want to compare it to older panels bc i like body language consistency#milligan on the other hand has NOTHING to save his sorry ass bc his writing is drop-jaw fucking terrible AND the artist seems to like it#but the loss of john's thumb being tied to his mental health (ignoring the bullshit with shade) has always felt. important to me somehow id#anyway MUCH thinking about my favorite loser on this about-to-be-annoying day shdjksd he has been done so dirty#hellblazer brain go brrrr
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demonsfate · 6 months
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>jin trains strenuously for four years straight to avenge his mother
>ends up losing the tournament to paul (a man with no demon powers at all)
why the fuck does lars have any faith in him
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tvrningout · 3 months
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i see or hear alternative/punk rock content and arata screams at the top of his lungs to let him out
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coffee-bat · 8 months
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cortex is still suprisingly hard to write
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byanyan · 1 month
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writes one tiny thing and fucks back off
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andessence · 1 month
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so cruel to be stricken with blorbotions for a character in a mediocre source material. i love u ma'am but ur covered in bad writing grime!! idk if there's anything i can do for u....
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daz4i · 9 months
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"the characters only have like 4 traits and are super boring" girl i think you're just ignoring all their depth by refusing to engage with them beyond the surface level text
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tvrningout-a · 11 months
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it's all " you're so quiet " until you give me a keyboard and a topic i'm excited to discuss
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shadowgamed · 3 months
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Magic, the occult, ancient Egyptian spirits and nonsense talk of fate and legacies of the past... it's all nothing but bullshit.
Seto knows that. No matter what, it has to be true. He's not stupid - he knows the things he's seen, but... Seto is a man of science, and he also knows just how unreliable the human mind can be. Perception is a fragile thing, and the mind is easily tricked and influenced by what it thinks to be true... that in combination with the solid vision system he created opens up a great number of explanations, most involving the shock of that system on the mind being far greater than he anticipated.
Deep down, it feels like he's making excuses. But is a far-fetched scientific explanation really any more absurd than a supernatural one? Besides, even if by some miracle the supernatural really was real, there's no way-
-He'd ever be a part of it. Seto's mouth curls into a grimace at the thought. It all comes back to the mind. His own, loathe as he is to admit it, has been a mess lately. Ever since Battle City, when he'd finally thought that Yugi might have been right; that there was more value to friendship than he had first thought... he thought he'd finally been ready to start again with Mokuba, but letting go of the chains of the past is harder than it sounds. It infuriates him. Seto Kaiba is a man of the future - no past can hold him down or stop him from doing what he wants to do!
But he's impatient, and the road before him is a slow one. Still, though - just when he'd felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest, it now feels like a new, different one has replaced it just as quickly. It hadn't been that way at first... he'd been happy with Mokuba, taking steps towards their dream, but it had snuck up on him slowly and with the subtlety of a serpent - so the question is: what changed?
He wants to see Yugi. That's something he knows for sure. The thought that it's something he needs is something that he won't acknowledge, so instead, he tells himself it's to challenge him again. That's the reason he came back to Japan, and yet... right now, faced with him again - all he can manage to muster up is a sneer.
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You look like you weren't expecting to see me. Is it really that much of a surprise?"
@nevertem ( starter for atem! )
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