#this is the kind of content i need... a man having emotions and being vulnerable

[diejager]

if you don't mind can i ask for your take on civilian s/o and yandere makarov? i wonder how he behave around an s/o who's like the opposite of him (like they're kind, gentle and has not known violence ever). hcs or short scenario or anything depends on you i don't mind (there's a drought of makarov content tbh 😮‍💨).

thanks for considering this and please take your time. have a good day 😚.

”Love” Cw: manipulation, obsessive behaviour, delusions of love, humain training, forceful taking, verbal abuse, tell me if I missed any.

Makarov doesn’t love. He knew how to, but he never truly did. He couldn’t with the heart and mind he grew up cultivating, to build his empire and strength, dwindling his heart’s empathy. Ironically, such ignorance towards love only increased his obsession, the amount of it that would only climb higher and higher, because in a sense, the loss of such emotions lead to a loss of a limit, driving him to insane lengths to achieve what he had his mind on.

He only knew death and bloodshed, the destruction of the mundane and corruption of the innocent, being the source of the rot and decay in the cells of a flower, to make it wilt and dust. Perhaps that’s where his interest in the normal stemmed, that curiosity that would someday bloom into obsession. He searched for an object of obsession, something - someone - to put all this attention on, something tangible, solid under his hands and malleable to his intentions. Despite his lack of time to dawdle, to spend on meaningless affairs, he found the perfect subject, someone so starkly different from him and his world.

There was a dichotomy in Makarov’s world, the harshness of war, battle and conquering of countries, and the deceptive softness in his eyes, the gentle touch of his scarred and calloused hands, and the coo with his sly tongue. You were the only softness in his life, a civilian he -one day - decided to pick up from the streets, bright-eyed and innocent to the horror he saw and spear-headed. Your tired eyes untouched by his mind and your scarless body free of any conflict that he could start with a simple wave of his hand.

There’s a need in his mind to see this innocence wilt away, to pry your mind of any autonomy and freedom you’ve lived with. Makarov wanted a doll, something soft and precious he could corrupt with words and ruin with his hands, deceptively gentle and loving, a poem spilling from a cruel smirk and eyes gleaming darkly. He has his ways to turn you into a thing of his imagination, to make you into his willing Russian doll, layer over layer of maliciousness and subservience.

He’s a man of culture, letting the people under him do all the dirty work. Despite all the viciousness and madness in his being, he doesn’t hit, he doesn’t abuse the object of his obsession, that was reserved for men lower than him, poor and mindless men. Rather, he preferred manipulation, well-thought words used in right situation to have you crawling back to him for safety, protection and comfort. He wanted you to come to him on your own, to make your pliant and uncaring of the wider view. He, after all, took you for himself, to endure himself in a second source of power.

Makarov has a silver tongue, whispering words into your ears that take root, your doubts and fears growing in the depth of your heart, bringing you closer to the man who promised to protect you. His fingers wiping away your tearful cheeks, pearly gems rolling down your cheek as he teases you about being worried. You shouldn’t be so fearful with him beside you, he’s your warden, your all-powerful and dependable lover.

He won’t let a shred of suspicion towards him fester, it’ll be dealt with swiftly with the call of your name, breaking down your vulnerable mind and building it back up in his image, his opinions were yours, his thoughts were yours, his goals were yours. So much so that you were his, knowing fundamentally that whatever he said goes.

”мой маленький цветок,” he mumbled, pressing his lips against yours, hands soft but wandering, laying down chains over your waist, around your dainty wrists and tightening the collar around your neck, keeping the hold on your mind, “You did so well, I’m proud of you.”

Positive reinforcement. He often used positive reinforcement to deepen his hold, to sink his teeth into your clean soul. Sweetened words with a voice he taught you to crave and possessive touches of bloody hands with intentions that he blinded you of, finding a way to make you want them.

“What do you say?” His hand traveled up your jaw, featherlight fingers cradling your ear and cheek until it stopped under your chin, tilting your head to look at his narrowed eyes, proud and dark.

“Thank you, Vladimir.”

He smiled, a thin-lipped grin.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @kaelysia

#x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #mw3 makarov #cod makarov #call of duty makarov #makarov #vladimir makarov #vladimir makarov x reader #makarov x reader #makarov x you #vladimir makarov cod #vladimir makarov x you #dark fic #tw: manipulation #tw: abuse #dead dove do not eat

[ruris-world]

｡･ﾟﾟ･ My sweet oblivion. ｡･ﾟﾟ･

➳ pairing: yandere!charlotte katakuri x fem!reader

➳ summary: you adapt to your new life, and your husband shows you his biggest insecurity, your reaction surprises him.

➳ content warnings: mention of previous non-con, male mastrubation, inappropriate use of devil fruit, uhh..voyeurism? dubcon,fluff, insecurity, kinda of dom!reader/ sub!katakuri, uhh, emotional breakdown [?? idk, lol ] ooc katakuri, err marriage kink?? [ i seriously don't know ], oh! a bit of a breeding kink, a smidge of a size kink [ i mean come on, he a big boii ], emotionally vulnerable katakuri doesn’t know how how to deal with feelings, a smidge of food play, I guess implied virgin!katakuri, reader is shy yet shameless, handjob, blowjob, pussyjob, no mention of aftercare, kind of rushed ending, also first time writing actual smut

➳ word count: 8.7 k [ 8,751 ]

➳ author note: i have katakuri brainrot, and he needs some love, so it's a win-win situation. also unedited and kind of a rushed ending. Please mention any warnings I missed. Inspired by this ask. English isn’t my first language, and I accept constructive criticism and any advice :)

»»———- ♡̩͙ ———-««

It has been a while.

7 months since the wedding, maybe.

you aren’t allowed out often, the few times that you are out you are attached to him, your husband, quite literally by his mochi.

you find it ridiculous, a power that is so powerful due to its user, you saw him fight once and it wasn’t a fair fight, if you could even call it a fight.

whatever…

days tend to blend in each other, especially if its spend in just one room, sure it’s a huge room even while not compared to your ‘normal’ sized body, but there isn’t one to really keep you company.

sure, servants come and go to bring you food, clean and organize, but they don’t speak

well, not to you at least

which you also find ridiculous, you find a lot of things are quite ridiculous.

the first month was spent crying, thrashing, and escaping, trying to at least, he would always find you, or one of his siblings would.

you stopped trying to escape when he emerged from a literal mirror

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

the second month was just spent…existing?

you were, are scared of him, you just spent it in a haze, you guess, you don’t remember much but you do remember the time you almost caught him with his scarf off.

It was by accident really, but before you could even glimpse at what was hidden you passed out, and woke up with an aching head, and flowers with a bunch of donuts on your side of the bed.

you didn’t really care what was under the scarf to be honest, but after that incident you went out of your way to avoid him if you even thought his scarf was off.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

the third month…, was when he ‘forced pleasure’ on you.

you guess he is a man after all….

he never did anything other than use his fingers, but even that was too much for you, if you would compare it, its like using a human cock.

well, that’s a lie…

he did use his cock once, just not his real one.

can you even consider a mochi finger shaped as one, a real cock?

you don’t want to think about it.

he never force himself at you, at least not in that sense, even when the budge in his leather pants looks so tight it may just burst.

he makes sure you are cleaned on clean sheets, then he gets off in the bathroom, and sometimes he doesn’t.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

the fourth month, is when you got invited to his mother’s tea-party, it was…nice, to go outside that is, the party itself was chaos.

believe it or not, you tend to fall into routine once you are kidnapped and aren’t allowed to get out of the room being held captive in.

so it was a breath of fresh air when you were let out of your room, and into the tea-party, and yes his siblings are a handful, and you are scared half to death from half of them , but it’s nice.

nothing much happened during the month, you don’t expect much.

…except that one instance.

he makes sure to come back at night, no matter how late the time is, he is always back, and he always gets up early, his side of the bed messy and the distant smell of him still present in the morning.

most of the time you are asleep when he gets back, sometimes you are not.

it was in the latter end that it occurred.

it was late at night, can borderline be considered a morning, no one is supposed to be awake, but you are

you were on your side, glimpses of a well-rested sleep taunt you as the door to the room opens, you don’t get up, you already know who it is, and you’re too tired to entertain his bullshit.

when you hear him call out to you, you don’t respond.

you would’ve called yourself foolish, if not for the fact that he doesn’t use his future-something-haki when he’s with you.

evident by the time, someone walked in when he was pleasuring you, and you never saw that servant again.

there is a rustling present, and it almost lures you back to sleep, except that he calls out to you again

you are annoyed, and very much on the verge of snapping at him, but you ignore it since you aren’t stupid, that is until you hear it

“darling, fuck—j-just like that”

is he…?

he wouldn’t…

“ah—you’re s-so—shit—so good”

would he?

“mmhm, you’re—hah—so sweet f’ me”

what are you supposed to do? do you turn around? talk? pretend to be asleep? ignore?

his pants continue mixed in with a couple of curses and groans, most of them are stifled and you hate that his voice alone sends blood rushing to your face and awaken a second rhythm within you.

you shift to test the waters, he doesn’t make an attempt to stop based on his noises, maybe you shouldn’t…

you ignore that part of you that says you shouldn’t, as the ‘squelnch, squelench, squelench’ drowns your thoughts.

you just wanna see, peek at his tip, see what the obscure sound is, surely his hands and cock aren’t the only thing that can produce such sounds, and bring him such pleasure, right?

it should be fine, right?

you’re his wife, it’s ok, right?

right?

right.

you slowly shift your body, trying not to make such ruckus that you do stop him, and his pleasure from escalating any further.

‘fuck it’ you think as you lay on your other side, eyes closed and make a sleepy sound, you hope it won’t deteriorate him or the situation.

his grunts don’t last another second, as everything around you stills, and silence fill the air, the sound of your deep breaths, and his harsh ones are the only thing present, seconds pass by and then-

hands are on your head, they trail to you cheek, and you feel one of his fingers trace lines on your cheek, and then they let go.

you don’t feel or hear anything after that, and you worry that you caused him to stop, and not reach his end.

not that you should care if he does cum or not.

that thought is interrupted by the noisy sound of slapping of his skin against something that continues, only this time faster and louder.

you are afraid to open your eyes, but that fear disappears when you hear his next words

“i’m going—fuck going to b-breed, you, be -hah- be a good w-wife and take it” accompanied by a loud moan.

all caution is out the window, as your eyes fly open, and what you see leaves you breathless and dripping.

there he is, charlotte katakuri, sweet commander, cold, merciless, the perfect brother, the man who brought you here, your captor and husband, fucking his fist.

his mochi fist, that looks like a cushion and is suspiciously moving along with his hips.

you don’t dare look up, eyes transfixed on his hips moving in and out of the cushion, his cock looks so big and you can even see its imprint —despite the dim lighting— from inside the makeshift cushion, his other hand is gripping the mochi with a death-grip, and you can only imagine what his face looks like.

you hate what the image does to you.

you hate the fact that you can feel your slick drench your panties, even more and then it occurs.

“f-fu—ck!”

holy shit.

you think you can cum from the image of him cumming alone, his hips stall in their movement as he cums, his thighs tense, yet shakes, and his cum spills into and out of the makeshift cushion or fleshlight or whatever; no other thoughts enter your mind other than that you want that thing to be you.

you almost scold yourself for the thought, but then he starts moving again and he do so with a whine you can’t watch it, you wish you could but you honestly think you would cum if you would do, so you take a deep breath and close your eyes.

that night you sleep to the sounds of him panting, and wake up to the same messy sheets with no evidence of the night prior other than the drench in your pants and an almost un-noticeable tear in his pillow.

it’s also the month when he starts to become least present.

sure he sleeps at your chambers with you, but he doesn’t visit or stay or talk, not like he used to, and you find it ridiculous.

you find it ridiculous that he makes you crave his presence, you find it ridiculous that he makes you miss him, you find it ridiculous that you cry yourself to sleep twice a week because of him.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

the fifth month, you snap.

he comes in one day, it's midday if you would assume, there are no clocks in your shared room so you have no way of telling, you are reading a stupid romance that can’t catch your attention, when the door open and the ‘clink, clink, clink’ of his steps appear.

you look up at him, as he shrugs off his jacket, and wanders to your shared closet.

you would have admired his back, if you weren’t so blinded with rage, you look at the mirror, think twice, shake your head then get up from your place.

you stalk towards the closet doors in the big room, and come face-to-face with his leg, oh what did you even expect?

you look up at him, as does he look down on you, he speaks first “darling? do you require anything?”

you stare, and stare and stare, a million thoughts rush into your head, a million more you want to scream at him, in the end just tears fill your eyes.

you sniff, gather all your strength and hit his leg, he may punish you but you don’t care, you are hurt.

“why did you leave?” another hit

“who do you think you are?” another hit

“you can’t j-just—just leave me like this!” another

“what? you can’t even spend time with me?” and another

“you’re so so…selfish!” another, and another and another, and then he bends down, and you break.

your eyes are closed, sobs recks your body and fills the air, your tears fall to the ground, and you probably look like a mess right now, but you don’t care.

your breath escapes in gasps, and you feel yourself being picked up, you’re so tired you can’t even yelp.

he brings you up to him, and when you open your eyes, blurry vision can barely see past his scarf, sobs, snot, tears, and even a bit of drool are falling all over his gloved hand.

god, you are so pathetic.

before you can wallow in more self pity, his other hand come to wipe at your face, and trying to save yourself from more humiliation, you go to help him, he doesn’t let you, and you don’t have the power to fight him.

your face is flushed, and you try to calm your harsh breathing that is broken by a few sobs.

once you have calmed down enough, he speaks, voice filled with an unknown emotion “I apologize darling, I hadn’t quite thought of how my actions may affect you”

you look up at him and hold his stare, after a few moments he pats your head.

you stare off at his scarf and decide to just spit it out before you chicken out “w-will you stay with me?”

his eyes soften, and you feel your heart flutter as the words “of course, my dear” are whispered into the air.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

the sixth month is…messy.

your relationship is improving somewhat, there are still awkward moments, not that you are the one to blame; after all it's not like you asked to be kidnapped.

it’s the month he lets you out the most, he takes you on walks, and strolls, he combs your hair once, well at least he tried, he makes you sleep on his chest that month, you refused at first, but he didn’t care and either way you both know that you can’t do anything about it.

you think that his chest is warm and smells like mochi, and you had asked him to take you with him when he went to do his work, surprisingly he did.

he makes you a mochi bed thingy, which you quite enjoy as it is very comfortable and bouncy. You stopped asking for it though, since he would become red in the face almost every time you did ask for one, and would sometimes leave you alone in the room.

you find being left alone ridiculous.

you find the fact that you miss him, more so.

you find yourself catching feelings, the most ridiculous fact of all.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

the seven month, this month is…

you are in your room, getting ready for bed, he isn’t here, however you find comfort that he would be in the morning, after all tomorrow is your anniversary, and he had made sure that he got the day off, well half-a-day but it’s better than nothing.

you are in your nightgown, about to get under the covers when he enters the room, and locks the door, which he doesn’t normally do, unless he leaves you alone in his office.

something is wrong

the air around him is tense, you can tell from the frown present on his face, and the slight rigidity of his movement confirms your suspicion that something is wrong.

you are debating whether or not to ask him when he sit on the bed, you blink and tilt your head, the question lingers in the air, you ask nonetheless “is something bothering you?”

he looks at you, you hold his stare, your frown mirrors his, it deepens when he sighs, he looks to the side.

this is new, he is usually…well, straightforward, blunt.

you sit upright when he mumble a “it’s nothing”

“katakuri…, what is it?”

he looks at you, off to the side again, back at you, closes his eyes, then sighs.

“kata—”

“I may be a monster, but I will always protect you, you may find it unpleasant, many before you have, however that won’t deter my affection for you…”

you are confused as fuck.

his eyes are on you, watching you as if you’re the only one that matters, and in that instant you feel like you are.

“it’s an unsightly matter, I will not put the blame on you, if you may wish not to view.”

what the hell does he mean?

he stops, and makes his way into the bed adjusting himself so that his face is near yours, and then he continues.

“this mark of shame that is constantly on me, i will not be saddened if you may not require to view it, again…”

you can see the intensity of emotions in his eyes, and despite all the words spewing out of his mouth, you think that you can get lost in the pretty amber.

“after all it is the reminder of my failure, a-as a brother, my imperfection…”

his hands go up into his face, you feel obliged not to look away, as if you owe him this, grips his scarf with one large hand, stays there, waits.

his breathing is hard, like he has been waiting for this moment, knows how it will end.

…and in one swift movement the barrier between the both of you is broken.

his eyes scan your face, as you do the same.

you want to laugh, honestly.

scoff at his face, and laugh at him.

for thinking all of that, and making a speech over some fangs.

it’s laughable, but you don’t.

laugh that is.

what you do is scan his face, his lips are kissable, his fangs are nice, gives him a charm about him, you wonder how they feel, are they pointy? or soft? could a nip penetrate the skin? you want to touch them, no you want them to touch you.

you want to feel them, really feel them, want to kiss them, want to feel them running down your body, want them to go up and down, want to feel them between your legs, nipping at your—

his scar stretches all the way up to his ears, and you never thought a scar could looks so attractive before, you want to kiss it, every inch of it, you want to run your hand through it, you wonder if the skin feels different there? would the texture feel different than his skin, his lips? how far is he willing to let you explore him?

you intake a sharp breath, his eyes flicker to you, right now though, right now, with his heated cheeks, laboured breath and flickering eyes, he looks so, so…

“cute.”

he blinks, you do too.

a blush.

“you’re so cute, katakuri”

your hand goes to his cheek, his eyes follows.

your thumb runs over his scar, it does feel different.

not bad…, just different.

he blinks at you, you can feel the heat rising to his cheek, when you look at him, he holds your stare for no more than a second then immediately invades it, you swore you saw a glimmer of tears there.

a few more beats and breaths, his hand stops you from touching his fangs, his eyes still haven’t caught yours.

“s-stop, it’s not—you may hurt yourse—”

his words are cut off by your hum, you can almost feel his doubt, guilt, he’s nervous, anxious, and you never wanted him more.

you slip your hands out of his, you take a large hand into your tiny ones and begin pulling it towards you as your words fill the air between you both

“you don’t believe me, hm? well, you can use your whatever haki, or…”

your eyes goes up, up, up, as the hand that you captured goes down, down, down.

“you can check for yourself…”

until it reaches below your nightgown and presses his enormous fingers into the damp spot, leaves them there.

you take a deep breath, consider your choices, this man is the one who took you, forced himself on you, you feared him for the longest time, he left you alone multiple times, felt like you were abandoned, but…

his eyes speaks volumes, there are tears and disbelief present, and that speech that left his mouth still makes it so that he is open, vulnerable

you want to take care of him, eventhough….

ah, fuck it, you think and then speak.

one.

two.

three.

“…my dear husband”

he intake a sharp breath, and stills, you swear you could see his eyes darken, his fingers push where you left them, which makes a surprised moan leave your lips.

and then you pull yourself up into him, your hands are on his cheek, a few beats then he looks at you, a frown on his face.

you pay it no mind as your lips crash into his.

a beat, then another, and another, then he responds, and oh, does he respond.

its inexperienced, messy, your lips don’t mold together, but god is it satisfying.

you don’t think you have been kissed like this before, you don’t think you will ever be kissed like this again, and in that moment you don’t think you mind it so much.

at first it's slow, then escalates and escalates, and then there is tongue, and spit, and drool, and teeth, and fangs.

you find out that the fangs do break skin, well at least the ones on your lips.

a beat, and a second, then a third, your heart throbs against your ribcage, and escalates until you are almost sure that he can hear it, you want to stay there forever, trapped into an infinite kiss but alas you are a human and you need oxygen.

you pull back, he chases after you, trapping you again against him, you smile, pull back, want to tease him yet his hand pushes your head pressing into him, he wants more and more and more.

he is greedy.

he is insatiable.

he is selfish.

but only with you.

only for you.

you put your hand on his jaw, he jolts, you break free, with only a string of spit trapping you to him.

pants escapes you, making you breathe harder, and harder, he isn’t in a better state than you, in fact you would say he is in a worse state.

drool escaping from the side of his open mouth, face flushed till his neck, you can swear there are hearts in his eyes, along with unshed tears—your heart clenches at the sight.

your lips brush against his, and he almost captures you again, if not for the grip you have on his hair, one tangled in his now messy hair, another grabbing at the nape of his neck, he groans as the grip you have on him causes you to pull on his hair. 

he presses his fingers into you, both of you are playing a dangerous game.

none of you mind.

“wait, kata…lay on your back.”

his eyes that were previously glazed with a haze clear a bit, yet there is a confused frown on his face.

“huh? b-but you—”

“shh, kata, let your wife take care of you for a split second, and relax.”

“come on, katakuri…” a peck on his lips, “be a good husband and lay on your back” another peck, this time near his fangs, “let me make you feel good” another peck, this time on his nose, his eyes flutter close at the contact.

with a groan he gets off you, and lays on his back on the bed, you follow after him, straddling his heaving chest.

your hands slowly travel along his abdomen, towards his pecks, slowly trace over each nipple, lingering there and then escalate towards his neck, to his jaw which is slack open for you, his eyes continue to follow each movement as your hands stay at his jaw a bit further.

you dully note that a past you would call you ridiculous, what you are doing is ridiculous, would probably shout at you, tell you that you shouldn’t do this with your kidnapper, the man who strike so much fear inside you, the man who hurt you for far too much, that you should hurt him just as much, and even if it was a lie call him ugly, disgusting, a monster.

you leave that part behind you whenever you press your lips to his jaw, trailing pecks over there, he jerks in your hands, you guess he is pretty sensitive there.

you hum, with a smile, and whisper in his ear “what’s wrong kata? did i hit a spot?” he shudders in response, and you get more wet at the thought that a man so big, powerful, and beefy is reduced to a shuddering and blushing mess with just a few touches.

Katakuri has no idea how to feel, or process the situation before him.

He didn’t expect your response in a million years, and the mere thought that you not only said those words but continued to mark him with your wet kisses and wandering hands makes his head spin.

and while surprise and bashfulness full him and heat his cheeks at the way you called him your husband—the tone, the hidden emotion, and the way you looked at him—he can’t deny that it turned him on, immensely.

perhaps he should feel more grateful for you and your reaction, however he can’t help feeling that maybe you do deserve to feel some level of disgust at viewing his face, that maybe you should have screamed, or that maybe you should have—oh

“Fuck”

“Hmm? now tell me dear husband of mine—” he almost whines “—where have i lost you”

he flushes more under your gaze that captures him feels like it will swallow him whole, it's lustful and full of want, he duly notes the effect you have on him, and that a past him wouldn’t be so appreciative that he is allowing himself to be weak and vulnerable.

but that’s ok.

because the past him doesn’t have you around.

because the past him doesn’t have you kissing down his tattoos.

because the past him doesn’t have you whispering hushed praises about him.

because the past him doesn’t have your lips kissing and licking down his body.

because the past him doesn’t have you willingly blushing and fumbling as you ascend his body.

because the past him doesn’t have you, just you, so tiny, and exposed to him.

his hands flex at his sides as you kiss down his happy trail, leading you to his prominent bulge that's straining against his leather pants.

you hum and look at him through your lashes, his breath catches in his throat, god he’s so weak for you, its almost pathetic.

Almost.

your tiny fingers go to his belt, trying to free him, yet as you fumble with the skull on his belt, his hands come to join you, he’s hesitant, you note “can you help me?” you encourage him and the blush is consistently increasing down his neck as he whispers a “yes”

you let go and watch in fascination the way his hands quickly and masterfully unbuckle his belt, then proceeds to remove his pants, your hands flies to his, “take those off too” you motion to his gloves.

he nodes then does as he is told, and you inspect them, you know how they feel, but seeing every little detail in them? appreciating how his hands are much bigger than yours? how are his fingers longer? knowing they could reach spots you never dreamed of experiencing?

god, they were pretty, looked calloused and rough, like they have texture, and the veins that ran down them, you could drool.

your thighs unconsciously rub against each other to gain some friction, but you remind yourself that this isn’t about you, it's about him.

“kata, kata, you’re so pretty..”

his closes his palms at that, and flexes them open, you can’t help it, your hands go to grab his fingers and bring them to your lips “can i?”

“yeah.” he says the word breathless, and you don’t wait a second before you put two fingers into your mouth, both of you groan at the contacts. Your hands goes to hold his hand and guide more of his fingers into your wet cavern, you suck on them and run your tongue under them, as response he presses on your tongue, weighing it down, you moan at the feeling, dragging his fingers backwards and forth, a few more times until you feel harsh breaths blowing into your face, you open your eyes that you haven’t even realised you closed, to meet amber ones.

Katakuri’s eyes were wide blown, watching the way your mouth sucks his fingers off like its a cock, and the way you seem like the simple act of having his fingers in your mouth has brought you pleasure, he couldn’t help it, he normally has enough self-restraint, but it was like his fingers had a mind of their own.

you are taken aback by the taste of a mochi-like substance that suddenly erupts in your mouth, and you stare at him yet find his gaze distracted at the way his fingers escape your mouth to make the liquid dribble down your chin and into his leather pants.

You swallow what you could of the liquid, and he watches with eyes of a predator as it gobbles down your throat, you lose yourself for a moment in his face, and once again you are captured by the beauty of the man infront of you.

Katakuri can feel the heat of your cunt on him, and the realization that he is the one who got you all hot and bothered turn him on more than he cares to admit, he can feel the weight of your gaze on him, and when his eyes flicker to you, he is stunned by you for a second, and just when he is about to be captured in your spell again its broken by your small “hi”, and he thinks you never looked more adorable than this, so flustered and tiny, cute little gasps escaping you, and the way you keep fidgeting around.

“Hey” his voice rumbles, a rare smile crossing his face, and the giggle that you let escape warms his heart a bit more.

The wholesome moment is yet again interrupted, by the gasp he lets out as you adjust yourself directly into his bulge, and the shocked expression, followed on by the smirk on your face lets him know that he’s in for real.

You continue your previous actions, and pull down your kata’s pants, he helps you by raising his hips and then continuing to pull them down further down, and yet again you are infatuated with the man below you. The way his thighs are flexing and twitching, they looked so muscular and you find yourself wanting to bite them, kiss them, and worship them, yet the only thing that you find more delicious is the way the now much larger bulge is wet, you’re not even sure if a man can spare that much pre, without cuming.

You wont lie, you are intimidated by his size, that isn’t fully revealed, yet you find yourself strangely aroused, you’re not even sure why, thus before you can back out, you pull down his boxers, and your jaw drops.

The way he almost slaps your face as he springs up, only to be hung down by the sheer weight of him, the way he has veins running up and down his shaft, the way he is continuously twitching and the way he throbs, the angry red tip that is all but leaking delicious pre, all that and more makes a second rapidly fast heartbeat in you awaken, and all you can think is that you want him i– no.

you need him inside you.

“Darling, y-you don’t have to do this if you–oh fuck” he is cut off by your mouth leaching on his tip, and sucking on him, you can’t fit him inside you, yet you hollow your cheeks and push more of him into you.

Katakuri is convinced he has died and ascended to a heaven-like place for monsters like him, not only is he feeling toe-curling pleasure, he is receiving it all from you, and katakuri has never felt more loved as he does now.

Laying on his back, with you pleasuring him, and both of you having such a vulnerable yet intimate moment, he would have never imagined this the day that you came into his life, not by the way you reacted at first, screaming and thrashing all around.

No, he was fully prepared to live all his life loving you while you hated him and despised him, you are his everything, and as he gasps at the way you littered him with kisses, all wet and sloppy, he can swear that he has never felt more loved and in love than in this moment.

You lick up the pre from the underside of his cock all the the way to his tip, where you kiss it, before smearing some on your lips, you lick your lips as you watch the way your hands continue to pump him, he’s so big, both your hands can’t even fit around him.

“You taste so good kata, like mochi” you giggle at the sound that escapes him at that statement, before going back to licking and sucking him, one hand goes to his balls, while the other sneaks its way to rub at your embarrassingly wet panties.

You close your eyes shut, as you hear the few groans that he lets out, his mouth otherwise covered by his hand, you would have told him to let you hear him, if you couldn’t feel that he was close.

You try your best to relax your throat, its painful you won’t deny but you know you will be rewarded with the sight of him cumming, so you push through, you force your muscles to relax, to fight the discomfort, you bring both hands to stroke his twitching length, you try what you know, your drool and his previous pre helps serve as lube.

Your eyes snap to him, intent on watching him climax, katakuri’s chest is rising and falling rapidly, his mouth is covered by one hand, drool escaping the side of it, his other hand gripping the pillow beside his head so hard that you worry about it for a moment, yet the best treat of all is his eyes, rolled to the back, and if the light focused just right you could see the tears mark down his flushed cheeks.

it’s all too much for you, and yet it proves the same for him as his hips suddenly jolts, with a keen moan–more like a whimper of your name–and then he cums, it’s sweet, yet thick and is too much, your eyes water trying to swallow as much as you possibly can, however it proves futile as after a few seconds you’re getting off him, choking and gasping for air, you try to get your breathing under control, and when you do, it’s when he just finished cumming.

Katakuri does not recall what happened the moment his orgasm has him, all he know is that the pleasure was too much, and then he was seeing stars, he barely registers the sound of choking, nothing but pleasure that he never has felt before registers in his veins, it’s as if every fibre of his being is experiencing it, and he thinks he passed out for a few moments, he cannot recall.

All katakuri knows is that by the time his eyes are opened again, he feels at easy yet so ridiculously sensitive for the first time in his life he doesn’t have the words to describe how he feels, only that he was feeling an after-glow of pleasure he can’t comprehend however that was contracting the look on your face, your eyebrows are crossed in a frown, and you had your hands holding the side of his face.

your thumb rubbing his cheek, which was a weird sensation, not unpleasant…just different; he feels exposed, like he is showing something meant to be a secret to everyone and everything around him, yet he never more close to you than at that moment, and he quite liked that, he liked having you and him alone, intimate, vulnerable together, to be able to indulge in each other like this has to be a blessing, or divine intervention to have an angel like you gifted to him.

“You’re drooling, kata”

He didn’t think he had the energy to blush even more, nevertheless you prove him wrong once again in the same night, yet the sound of your laughter makes it worth the temporary embarrassment, without him noticing a smile stretch into his face, he feels safe and content with you.

But then he remembers, “darling?”

“Kata” he can hear the smile in your voice, he takes both hands in his, and your smile flatters a bit, “what’s wrong? Did you not like it?”

He shakes his head, before pressing his lips to your palms, he’s careful not to graze you with his fangs. “No, i did, i enjoyed it quite a lot, frankly”

“Then what's wrong, do you-��

“Darling, rest, i just…”

“Hm?”

“Well, i–you, i want to return the favour…i need to make you feel good” he feels like a fool, stumbling over his words like that.

“...you don’t have to do that”

“No, I want to, I need to bring you pleasure, as the one you have brought upon me, only if you are comfortable with that too. darling , do you want this?”

“Yeah” it's breathless, the way you say it, just like he previously did and the way your lips are, it’s like every movement you make is to tempt him, tease him, it feels like a trap, and even if it was, he would gladly fall into one, if it's for you but now, now he wants to kiss you.

So he does.

You’re surprised for a moment, and he thinks that he did something wrong, before you respond back, with the same intensity. It's passionate, full of electricity and emotion, it's like two lovers have met after a long time. It's pleasant, but then it’s not. It quickly escalates, until it’s all drool, teeth and tongues clashing with each other, it’s like taking a bite out of a forbidden fruit, something that you know is wrong yet feels good, too good, both of you want more, so more you take of each other, until the moment you can’t go longer with oxygen is reached.

God, this must be the millionth time you kissed him tonight, yet you can’t get enough; you want to makeout with him forever, his lips are addicting, and the way his fangs feed that addiction is unmeasurable.

Somehow during that process katakuri managed to get rid of your nightgown, you don’t even notice until you feel one of his hands creeping up your back, and that sends signals down your spine.

The way his fingers are delicately running up and down your back, and fiddling with the strap of your bra leaves goosebumps down their path that you are sure he can feel, you would be too occupied with the thought of that if it weren’t for his lips that are moulding against yours.

You let out a gasp that is swallowed by his tongue, as he manages to get you out of your bra, he keeps a hand on your hips, holding you still with one and the other one goes to your cheek pulling you away but not before ending it with a peck on your lips, you try to deepen it drunk off the taste of him but he doesn’t let you, instead he chuckles at the whine you let out and the sound goes straight to your core.

“patience, pretty…” his voice is sharp, deep, and sends tingles all over your body, the ability of his voice and the entirety of him that has a hold on you can’t be denied any longer, no matter what you try it always catches up to you.

katakuri ‘s thumb rub over your bottom lip, teasing you, everything stalls for a moment, it's like there’s only you and him, he looks majestic like this, almost heavenly, the way his amber eyes are gazing at you, almost devouring you, and then the cold air hits you, and you realize your bra has abandoned you, almost instantaneously his eyes widen with an emotion your brain cannot decipher.

Your hands go to cover yourself, suddenly feeling shy and bashful under his intense gaze, he doesn’t say anything for what felt like forever, until he grasps both of your wrists in one broad hand, and rubs circles into the back of your hand.

The other hand still trapping you against him, almost like he needs you two to be close, intertwined with each other, desiring you, becoming selfish and indulging himself for once, and yet he will be selfish, if it's with you, never once daring to think of a warm embrace, a chance to rest, to be vulnerable with no judgement, he needs you, and you need him. It’s a simple fact, yet one that seems as a sin, and yet, yet…if a monster like him is to be able to serve you, bring you pleasure, will it be less of a sin?

“Darling, don’t hide from me..” he sounds almost hurt, as if the mere thought of you thinking you’re undesirable brings him pain, as if you’re anything less than perfect, the mere thought of you not seeing yourself as he sees you, not being treated like you deserve to be makes a flame lit inside of him, he needs to show what he sees through his eyes when he dares lay his gaze on you, and he starts by pulling your hands away.

The hand on your hips brings you further into his chest while the other lets go of your hands, not before placing a kiss on each of them, your hands land uselessly into his pecs, as his mouth graze the tender flesh on your breast, hesitantly he begins placing kisses there before taking a nipple into his mouth, the euphoria you feel from such a simple act causes your hands to press down on him, and such a simple act makes you feel a heartbeat raising under your touch.

He gains courage the longer he keeps nursing on you, one hand is already playing with your other nipple, teasing you as he rolls it in-between his fingers, he’s good at this, almost too good. A choked moan escapes you at a particularly hard twist accompanied by sharp fangs scraping your skin, it’s too much and yet not enough, your hands somehow found their way into his hair, pulling at him, and you feel rather than hear the growl that follows your actions.

“katakuri, please” your voice comes out more pathetic than you would like, yet you don’t have time to dwell on it, as he releases the bud from his mouth with a ‘pop’.

He leaves a wet kiss into your other nub before whispering against it “no one else likes seeing me like this” Your hands grips his hair harder, pulling him away from your chest, his eyes unhoded and hazed with lust takes a moment to adjust to yours, ignoring the way his saliva and cool air makes your nipples stand hard you took in a shaky breath to arrange your thoughts.

“…stop” you don’t know what else to say, this is the same man who kidnapped you, and took you by force, and yeah sure your feelings for him developed into something, but it’s complicated.

it’s within your right to be upset at him, you should curse him and after all the things he had done to you, be ingratiated to be within his vacenitg yet you can’t bring yourself to do it, you look at him and his eyes stare back at you.

There it is again, that look in his eyes, it makes you want to scream, why? why? why?

You can feel tears brim near your eyes, he blinks at that once, twice, “stop, just stop!” it comes out more than a sob than you would like, yet you can’t do anything about it, you don’t want this, you don’t—

Katakuri’s lips are on yours, his knuckles brushing against your cheeks, other hand on your back, pushing you more into him, fitting like two pieces of a puzzle, connected, pulling away just to whisper sweet nothings against your lips, apologizes spill from him, and continue doing so as his kisses trail down your jaw and into your neck, his fangs scraping along them, neither painful nor pleasurable, just applying pleasure.

You gasp as wet kisses are being planted into your collarbone and descending further downwards, yet not fast enough, large large hands busy themselves by pushing you into him, other hand hovering on your thighs, hesitant, before grabbing a handful of them.

“kata, please…” It's amazing how a couple of words can make your husband snap, as soon as these words are let out into the air, his grip on you tightens where it can almost be considered painful.

He drags you closer to him, and the feeling of countless hard years of training runs deliciously against your clothed cunt. Your moan is wet and full of sound as the first real friction of the night is received by you. Familiar fingers push your ruined panties to the side before proding against your entrance, they move slowly coating themselves in your juices before plunging into you.

The wanted touch of his makes your back arch, and suddenly your back hits the mattress, and his mouth is on your nipples again, it’s all too much stimulation, the way his fingers is constantly moving in and out of you, the way his tongue leaves marks and kisses everywhere, the hold he has on your hip bone preventing you from running away from his ministrations.

Too much.

Too much pleasure, it's almost painful.

And yet.

Yet you want more.

Need more.

Your thoughts are in a jumbled mess, and it takes way more effort than you would care to admit to speak, still you do; because as his desire for you is insatiable, so is yours for him.

“W-wait, wait, please stop!” his hands stall almost immediately, he detaches his lips from your body, and his hand is again in your cheek rubbing soothing circles into your cheek, which you lean into, before meeting his gaze.

It’s full of worry, his brows furrowed, a pout on his flushed lips—really all of him is— before asking in a whisper, as to not startle you “are you alright, darling? have I gone too much? Do you want to stop? We don’t have to–”

You feel bashful under his gaze, and the way he is so concerned for you, you try to regulate your breath, but you want it so bad, need it in you. “Hah- god no…no, no, I-I wanna cum on your cock…”

“Darling.., I–We can’t…”

Katakuri feels bad for the frown on your face, he doesn’t want to deny you it saddens him and as he watches a frown settles on your face, your lower lips wobbles, it pains him to see you like this and he is ready to apologize again, offer you another option to bring you pleasure as the one you brought him, yet his thoughts are interrupted again by you.

“We– you don't have to put it in…” your voice is small, mumbled but he is sure that he had heard you, he is confused for a moment before you say again, your voice wavering “you.., I can just rub it against me..” your hands immediately goes to your face.

He doesn't say anything, too stunned to say anything, his mind is running around trying to figure out how that will be possible.”We–we don’t have to do it…it’s ok, just forget I said anything” God, he really is terrible at this whole thing, however he won’t let his inability to express himself to you get in his way.

“Yes.” you sniffle and peek between your fingers to look at him “Whatever you want, just show me how to please you and I will.” The way he says those words makes your heart skip a beat and butterflies erupt in your stomach.

You whine as he pulls your hands away from your face, he kisses them as an apology, before his breath hits your face, “whatever you want…” he whispers, so genuine and full of emotion that you almost burst out crying, but you don’t, and the only thing that manages to slip out of you is a tiny “uh-huh”

He pecks your lips, and looks at you expectantly “lay back” he does as he is told, slowly manoeuvring his way so he is sitting with his back to the headboard. His cock is semi hard, laying on his stomach twitching every other second.

Katakuri watches you intently as you fix yourself on top of him, keeping a hand near your hips to support you whenever you need it.

Your hands go to grab his cock, coaxing a bead of pre from him, his groan makes you clench, impatiently wanting to have him against you.

“Hah, you can touch katakuri, help g-guide me” you say breathing harshly, it’s not like you can go around his whole length by yourself, you need some form of assistance.

His hands grab your hips, thighs spreading widely to accompany his size, helping you align yourself with his cock. Your clit is swollen and twitching, desperate for some sort of stimulation, his precum serves as lube mixing in with both of your juices.

Your hands are on his abdomen searching for stability before you make contact with him, an embarrassingly large moan a result of that

The drag of him feels heavenly, your eyes don’t tear away from the sight of where the both of you are mixed, your lips are spread open, you can feel every vein on his shaft, every throb of him, the entirely of him, you slid easily against him, the pre of him helping you in accomplishing that.

Your breathing is harsh, biting your lips to conceal your moans before wet lips press against yours, you gasp unsuspecting of your husband's actions, before reciprocating trying to shove and mold your tongue against him

He pulls away just just for you to chase after him missing the familiar warmth, he doesn’t let you, capturing your jaw in his hands, cupping them before breathing into them, you’re practically breathing each into each other and sharing the same breath.

“Please…” you’re not above begging and thus you find yourself with a thumb in your mouth and his dark voice whispers into your ear “don’t hide, darling, speak to me, let me hear you…” you don’t think, you just nod, desperate to have him against you again “i need to hear you say it darling…”

“I-I won’t hide…just please” He can never deny you, your head is thrown back yet you can feel his gaze on you, moans escape both of you—an indicator and reassurance of the pure bliss and ecstasy you both are feeling.

He guides your hips making you feel the drag of your clit, so puffy and desperate against his cock, feels like paradise to you, the only thing that would feel better is having him inside of you—but that’s for another time.

You’re enthralled to have him like this, countless nights you have been spending thinking of a moment like this, with him, charlotte katakuri.

Your husband.

You can feel the coil in your stomach reappearing, you won’t last long—that you know, yet as you look down on your panting husband you feel the need to hold off your orgasm a bit longer, in hopes of seeing him cum.

His face is concentrated, and all scrunched up, the warmth of your cunt against his frustrated cock is nothing like he had imagined, and he distinctly notes that he can’t go back to a mochi cushion after feeling you since he can never replicate the feel of your pussy, something so divine.

Any sense of rationality katakuri has disperse as he hears your voice, high pitched, whiny and desperate—so heavenly to him “I’m gonna cum, please, wan’a cum, fe—ah!—feels good”

Your hands dig into his skin, and his speeds up, frustrated desire accompanies him, intent on watching you unfold before his eyes, he can feel his end too, never imagining something like this could feel so good.

“Go ahead and let go” and just like that with a broken moan the coil in your stomach snaps, it feels beyond heavenly to be rewarded after such a long time, and katakuri keeps you upright with a hand while the other still stimulates you, makes you ride off your orgasm and he keeps going even your orgasm washes over you in waves, it’s too much stimulation for your brain and body, no coherent thoughts are present in your body “too much, ‘s moree pleaseee….”

“Fuck.” with a curse word that seems too improper for your husband, he manages to cum for the second time of the night, semen splattering all over his stomach, his grip on your is the only thing keeping you stable from falling into his heaving chest.

The afterglow of your orgasm basks you into sleep, you’re sure when you wake up in the morning your body will be filled with bruises and an ache in your muscles, but you can’t seem to focus on that with the way your husband’s voice lures you to sleep, baking you and consuming you whole.

“Darling, you did so good, I didn’t hurt you, did I? Was I too rough? Do you require a—“

“Mhmm, want you..please, don’t leaveee…”

“Never.”

“Mhmm”

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

current status: unedited

©ruris-world 2022 — do not copy, plagiarize, repost or translate my works to any platform! reblogs, likes and comments are very much appreciated

#one piece #one piece drabbles #character: charlotte katakuri #tw: dark content #tw: yandere #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #ruri writes #tw: food play #katakuri x reader #one piece x reader #yandere one piece #yandere katakuri #katakuri smut #one piece smut #yandere katakuri smut #katakuri x y/n #tw: voyeurism #tw: breeding #tw: size kink

[writing-in-glitter-pen]

How the Genshin Men See Their Wife

Hello again, loves! It’s been a while since I posted! I’ve just been really busy lol. But I am BACK baby with lots more ideas I want to explore!

Diluc, Kaeya, Childe x fem!reader

Genre: Hurt/comfort, romance. I didn’t mean to make this post hurt but it’s just the boys I chose have such sad circumstances :( especially Childe, that one stings. The other two have a lot more comfort in them.

Synopsis: Having a wife means different things to every man. It’s all about what kind of partnership they see in it. Someone to carry half the weight or someone to be responsible for? Someone that changes them or someone that appreciates them for who they are? All are completely valid! So let’s explore what you, our favorite men’s wife, means to them.

Content warnings: Repressed emotions (Diluc). Feelings regarding trauma and imposter syndrome, physical strike on hand; non threatening, non malicious, does not cause harm or hurt (Kaeya). Depictions of blood and physical harm, responsibly for another person taken too far to the point of self detriment, borderline obsession, marital contention and deep-rooted problems, threat of leaving (Childe).

Diluc’s wife is his pride and joy. You are all he works for and all he wants to take care of. He’s always seen his management of the Ragindvr wine industry as his duty to his family name—a duty he was born with and suddenly had to shoulder alone after his father passed, leaving Diluc as the family head. Diluc found no joy in this labor, doing it solely for the sake of doing it—as he believed he had to. That he owed it to his father. But after he started loving you, once you had awoken his heart to the draw and vulnerability of being one with somebody, his sense of duty changed. For the first time in his life, he chose to be dutiful to something, to someone. His sense of duty to you was not inherited, but something he grew and tended to with his own hands. Your love is a garden he chose to start and maintain to full growth—continuing to prune and water and care for it well after it blossomed. Not out of a sense of obligation, but out of a sense of wonder—of accomplishment in how loving you changed him fundamentally. Of course Diluc sees your relationship as a partnership, but he doesn’t let you take on any burdens, even to his detriment. You do have to fight him to get him to let you take some of his emotional labor upon yourself—not wanting to leave him solely responsible for both you and himself. You need to poke and prod at him to get him to open up about his stresses, as he never wants to be a burden to you. He just wants to take care of you, never wanting himself to get in the way of that care—so you have to convince him to let you care for him in return. When it comes to financial responsibilty, you can have a job if you really want one, but otherwise, Diluc is more than happy to be a provider for both of you. It actually gives him a sense of fulfillment in his career if you let him be the breadwinner. For once, the duty he tirelessly served from the end of his late childhood into all of his adulthood finally has a physical purpose. If the money he brings home goes to your care, it is money well spent! Overall, caring for you creates a sense of home and comfort in Diluc; tending to you is beyond fulfilling, and he works while looking forward to returning to you with the fruits of his labor at the end of every day.

Kaeya sees his wife as his cornerstone, the rock upon which he can build a better self. You support him in ways he’s never felt he deserved, he never thought was possible for him. Kaeya was never able to rely on anyone to advise him or understand his complications. With such a big secret on his hands at such a young age, one he could not even trust his adoptive father with, one his adoptive brother rejected him for, he had always felt like he was treading water alone in a wild ocean—no lifeboats in sight. Your love took him by surprise. He was unable to accept it at first, pushing you away and holding you at arms length, even after you had started dating. Every time you inquired further about his feelings, asked him if you could see the parts of himself he hid, he dismissed you. Sometimes harshly. The first time you had asked to see what was under his eyepatch, holding his face in your hands with a look of love in your eyes, gently slipping the thumb holding his right cheek under the piece of fabric, he smacked your hand away. You fought, then separated for the day, and he thought he had lost you forever. His past once again holding him back from his future. But you came back the next day, embracing him once again with open arms like you always have, like you continued to do until he felt safe enough to let you see more of him. He was scared to open himself fully to you, terrified of your rejection, but as you dug and clawed away at the skin and bones shielding his heart, the horror he braced for never came. You poured warmth and love into him, melting the once-permanent icicles piercing his heart and washing him with relief. Someone loved him—for every beautiful and ugly part of him. His wife is the one person he feels he can always rely on. He will never feel alone in the world again, like his problems are solely his to face, because you will always be there.

Childe, much like Diluc, is a provider. But he, unfortunately, takes providing to an unhealthy level. Childe’s line of work is gruesome, but he bares his grim position in stride, knowing that in torturing himself, he is keeping those he loves safe and fed. You especially. His little wife is everything to him. He doesn’t know what he would do without you to come home to every night. To catch him in a warm embrace when he stumbles through the front door. He has no idea how he could sleep without you in his bed. How he had ever slept without you before. Maybe he never slept. You are just such a beautiful thing, he needs to make the world safe for you—so nothing can bring you harm. So you can keep smiling and brightening the world with your presence. His dedication to providing for you actually…harms your relationship. Watching your husband put himself through the ringer in your name is horrifying. Him coming home bloodied and beat at the end of every day is a constant source of contention and stress between you two. You’re worried about him, constantly grieving for him, and he’s indignant that you can’t be. That you need to be happy. He’s doing this for you! He can’t and won’t understand that him, your husband, working himself to death isn’t what you want. Isn’t what a marriage should be. You love him, he loves you…but you can’t go on like this. If the way he sees you as his wife doesn’t change, you can’t be his wife anymore. Though…it’s not like he’ll let you leave him. Not for his sake, but for yours. He can’t risk the world bringing you harm in his absence; fundamentally needing to stand in front of you and take every blow himself. So he’ll do what he can to convince you to stay, to adapt and change in a way that will remedy your relationship. He never wanted his partnership with you to be to your detriment. So he’ll put the work in to change it.

#genshin x reader #childe x reader #childe x you #genshin childe #genshin x you #kaeya x reader #kaeya x you #genshin ajax #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc ragnvindr #diluc #diluc x y/n #diluc ragnivindr x reader #ajax tartaglia #tartagalia genshin impact #childe x y/n #childe genshin x reader #childe genshin impact #kaeya x y/n #kaeya genshin x reader #genshin impact kaeya #kaeya headcanons #diluc headcanons #childe headcanons #diluc angst #childe angst #kaeya angst #tartaglia x y/n #tartagalia x reader

[magicalink]

Broken Beyond Repair

Content: Angst? Hurt/comfort? Some sad and painful thoughts Wanderer has at night when the past haunts him and he feels that it has completely ruined his present and future. Slight comfort and hope towards the ending? I dunno what this is, some sudden idea that attacked me at night and I decided to give it a shot. Not proofread.

That's how Wanderer felt. That's how he saw himself. Because no matter how good things could be in the present or future, the damage the past had inflicted upon him had shattred him, twisted him in ways that prevented him from ever finding peace. From ever being free from pain.

He turned and tossed in bed. In your bed. He was incapable of sleeping. Tons of thoughts flooded his mind.

Because now he had what he had always wanted, right? He had a goddess that considered him her son. And he had a human who loved him, who considered him her equal.

Yes, he had Nahida. He had you. He finally had what he had always wanted. To be accepted, to be loved, to be a part of something, to have a family.

But he felt that it was too late. Even if now he had everything he had ever longed for, the traumatic suffering from the past had left him too broken to ever be able to truly enjoy it.

There were too many losses, too many heartbreaks, too many sins he didn't have the right to regret.

Many times he wished he had chosen not to recover his memories, to live a peaceful life, free from sorrow, able to enjoy what he wanted the most had he ever come across it. But he knew he didn't deserve it. And besides...

It wouldn't even be worth it if he wasn't by your side.

He looked besides him. You were laying at the other side of the bed, wandered far from where you had been cuddling him when you first turned off the lights. You were sound asleep, he could hear your breathing.

He had no doubt. He didn't deserve to live a peaceful life without the memories of what had happened and of what he had done. But he had more than he deserved. He had Nahida, and he had you. He didn't deserve to have you there by his side after how much he had harmed you and your kind. Yet there you were, always for him.

Whenever he cried in his sleep, because he was broken beyond repair and the cracks would bust open when he was most vulnerable, you were there to cradle him, to lull him, to wipe his tears and kiss his wounds, his scars, both the physical and the emotional ones.

You were always there. That's the reason why he even bothered sleeping when he didn't even have the need. He would lay there in bed with you, sharing the utmost intimacy and vulnerability, because it was the last thing that brought happiness and peace to his broken being. He felt it was the pinnacle of human connection, the maximum declaration that you were now a couple, a family, a family that could not be separated. It didn't matter that he was a puppet, that he was not human, that he had no heart. When he laid in bed with you, it was a shoutout to the world, but mostly to himself, that he was your lover, your companion, your only man.

So he laid in bed night after night by your side, treasuring the chances he had to do it when you weren't away in your many endless travels. It made him happy, but he could never fully enjoyed because he was twisted, marked by sorrow, broken beyond repair.

He hated how far you had wandered from him. Maybe you should have a smaller bed. He wanted you closer, but he always waited for you to make the first move. A move you wouldn't make because you were in a deep slumber, unaware of his rumiation of his endless pain.

But he couldn't take it anymore, if he was far from you those cracks that were the proof of his brokenness would bust open any moment and he didn't want to cry while awake. The pain he felt that night was so deep, it made him so desperate, it was the kind of pain and anxiety that wouldn't even let him cry, just sink into en endless spiral of rumiation and mourning and self loathing.

So he made the first move, and coyly approached your side under the sheets, sighing sadly. He was weak, he was dumb, he didn't deserve you, and he didn't deserve you even more taking into account that he wasn't even able to fully enjoy you because he was broken beyond repa...

He yelped and blushed when you instantly wrapped your arms and legs around him as soon as yoy felt his body touching yours. Even if you were sound asleep, you cuddled him, held him tight against your chest, mumbling incoherences in your sleep as your body moved by itself to hug him, as if it knew his by heart. As if your body recognized his as its other missing half, as if you were made for ine another.

He felt butterflies in his stomack, a wild ticking where his heart should be, and it reminded him how good it felt to be by your side. How happy it made him. Even if a broken being like him could never be completely happy and completely in peace, having you by his side were his only moments of piece and happiness on the hell he was forced to inhabit.

It was worth it. Being by your side was worth everything. Laying in bed with you was worth everything. Beinf the one you held close even if you were asleep was worth everything.

Because even if he was broken beyond repair, being by your side gave him enough comfort, enough enjoyment, even if it was interrupted by the torment of his past, enough reason to continue living.

He snuggled you back and kissed the top of your head, careful not to wake you. All he wanted was to be with you. It made him happy. As happy as he could be with his nonexistant broken heart. If he was broken beyind repair and complete peace and happiness were unattainable, then so be it. Having this moments with you brought him enough solace and joy, even if it was fragile, even if it was interrupted, because he knew you always soothed him back with your sweet words and hugs, with the firm yet gentle grip with which you held him, and with the way you kissed him and caressed him.

He was broken beyond repair, and so were you, but you both held each other's pieces together every single day. And during the night, it was the moment when you kissed the cracks and made sure none of you would crumble. And if you did, it would be in each other's arms where you would be taken care of and shown love until you could stand back on your feet again.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fanfic #fanfic #scaramouche angst #genshin angst #hurt/comfort #genshin hurt/comfort #scaramouche imagines #scaramouche headcanons #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #wanderer x you #wanderer x reader #wanderer imagines #wanderer fluff

[misc-obeyme]

Hello!!!! Congratulations on your 1k followers, i love your writing!! Could I please request "I need to hear you say it" with Solomon?? It's OK if not, tysm!!! ✨

Hello, anon!! Thank you so much!!

Okay since the last Solomon request was so angsty, I really tried for some fluff with this one! I also have another one upcoming that I think is going to be angsty, so yeah I really wanted to try to fluff it up. Hopefully it turned out okay!

Thank you for participating!

1,000 Followers Event!

GN!MC x Solomon with prompt "I need to hear you say it."

Warnings: none!

It all started innocently enough. It was almost an inside joke at first. Solomon had made a witty remark about how your time was always monopolized by the demon brothers and that he would be happy just to get a letter from you. So you wrote him a letter - a brief four sentence message that you actually sent to Purgatory Hall through the Devildom mail.

And of course Solomon had written you back - sending you a letter four pages long.

This continued for some time, your letters getting longer and his getting shorter until you were both regularly writing page long letters to each other.

And at some point, the letters became something more. The two of you never talked about them. You never discussed their contents. So the letters became more and more about feelings, emotions that neither of you could speak out loud, either to each other or to anyone else. They started to hold things like your hopes and fears and dreams. Sometimes Solomon just wrote poetry and other times it was an idea for a new spell, but so frequently it was almost a confession. He would talk about things like his jealousy of the brothers, his experience of being immortal, his thoughts on the Devildom, his relationships with your mutual friends.

Your letters were similar, meeting the level of confidence that his letters seemed to indicate he had in you. You would talk about your feelings, share your personal thoughts, the things you didn’t speak to anyone.

When you became Solomon’s apprentice, the letters would sometimes refer to real life events. Solomon would tell you how proud he was of you mastering a complicated spell recently. He would write you letters of encouragement when you were struggling to get a potion just right. Sometimes he would tell you about what it meant to be a sorcerer and how it had affected his life.

You would respond with your doubts about your abilities, your happiness at having figured out something complicated, your gratitude that he was your teacher. You spoke about how patient and kind he was. That it was because of him that you were as powerful as you were.

And then one day you realized that the person you were in those letters was not the same person you were when you were actually with Solomon. The letter writer was more open, more vulnerable, capable of saying things to him that you could never dream of saying to his face.

But Solomon was different. You never got the sense that he was holding back when he was actually with you. Although he never alluded to anything he had written in his letters, he had spoken to you about similar things.

You paid more attention when you were with him. And inevitably your letters became more brief.

You couldn’t deny the pounding of your heart. You couldn’t ignore the look in his eyes. You could not even begin to express to yourself or anyone else how seeing his smile was the same as basking in the afternoon sun. How Solomon had become something so much more than a teacher and a friend. How his words, the ones he wrote and the ones he said, became the narrative of your heart. How each one made every nerve within you sing.

There was something about this man that made him different from everyone else in your life. Something about every single thing he did that caused you to feel more than you should. The fire that ran through your veins any time he touched you. The goosebumps you would get from the sound of his voice.

You couldn’t hope to be honest. You couldn’t imagine it. You couldn’t-

But if you didn’t-

You wrote him a letter. It was only a single sentence. It was the one thing you wanted to say, but that you just couldn’t manage.

You were so scared to send it. He could easily pretend he never got it, the way you both so often did. Never discussing the letters was part of their charm.

When you finally sent it, you spent your time forcing yourself to think about anything else.

A few days later, you were sitting in your favorite cafe, taking a break from everything with some coffee. You were alone because you needed some space to think.

You looked up when Solomon sat down across from you. He placed the piece of paper with your single sentence face up on the table in front of you. You looked at it and then you looked up at his face. The serious expression there made your stomach drop.

“I need to hear you say it,” Solomon said. His voice was quiet, but intense.

You stared at him for a moment, at a loss. Could you even say those words? You had written them because they couldn’t be said. You couldn’t even speak them to yourself, let alone to him. He had to know that.

You thought about saying something else. About explaining why you couldn’t say it.

But then you looked into his eyes again. And what you saw there revealed something that Solomon had never told you, either verbally or in written form. He was scared, too.

You saw your own fear and uncertainty reflected back at you. That was how you recognized it for what it was.

The truth was that you had two relationships with Solomon. The one where you talked to each other, spent time together, went to school and learned magic together. And the one where you wrote to each other. Your written selves had gone on ahead and reached a place your other selves weren’t ready for.

But now you saw the opportunity to entwine those selves, to let each piece of you be known fully to each other.

You put your coffee aside. You reached across the table to take both of his hands. The paper with your words sat between your arms. You looked across it to meet his eyes.

“I’m in love with you.”

You watched as the fear you had seen morphed into a tentative relief. As though he wasn’t sure if this was real.

“MC…”

“It's just that we never talked about the letters,” you said. “And I wasn’t sure if you…”

You were looking down at your message now, unable to maintain eye contact.

You felt him squeeze your hands. When you looked back up, he had a fond smile on his face.

“Did you really think I didn’t know?” Solomon said gently. “That I couldn’t read between the lines of every letter you sent? I tried to make it clear to you. I tried to write things that would give me away. I was waiting for you to say something. When you didn’t, I thought I must have been the one who misunderstood. I thought I had been reading a truth in your words that wasn’t actually there.”

You frowned. “I’m sorry.”

Solomon chuckled and squeezed your hands again. “Don’t be. I’m just happy to know that I wasn’t wrong after all. Because you wrote me something I couldn’t possibly misunderstand. And I hope it’s clear to you by now that I’m in love with you, too. I’ve been in love with you ever since you wrote me that first short letter so long ago.”

You sighed, flustered by this, annoyed with yourself for not understanding sooner. You let go of Solomon’s hands and stood up from the table, grabbing the coffee and tossing it in the trash on your way out.

Solomon came after you instantly, grabbing your hand as you started down the street.

“MC?” he said, the fear and uncertainty back in his expression. It nearly broke your heart.

"I'm sorry, Solomon," you said. "I just… I'm just…"

You didn't know how to say that you were feeling overwhelmed. That his words meant more to you than anything he had ever said or written before. Could he really have been in love with you for that long?

Solomon somehow seemed to understand you in that moment. He tugged on your hand, making you take several steps toward him so he could wrap his arms around you.

You returned the embrace, your bodies fitting together perfectly like little puzzle pieces.

"I didn't know how to say it," you said quietly. "Because I'd been writing it between the lines for so long."

"You knew exactly what to say," Solomon said, his volume matching yours. "You said it, didn't you? You said it because I asked. I wasn't sure you would."

You sighed. "Honestly? I'll probably do anything you ask."

Solomon looked at you and the twinkle of mischief in his eyes made you regret saying that. "Oh? In that case… will you kiss me, MC?"

A heartbeat passed between you, a single moment where you processed his words.

And then you kissed him.

All of your previous concerns fell away. The feelings were just as intense as they had always been, but the second your lips met, everything simply felt right. You were filled with the warmth of him, the sunshine that always seemed to come out of nowhere to hold you sweetly whenever he smiled. Solomon was the brightness that guided you through every day, no matter how dark things became.

1,000 Followers Event | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #omswd #obey me fanfiction #obey me fanfic #obey me solomon #obey me solomon x reader #obey me solomon x mc #solomon x reader #solomon x mc #misc 1k event #misc writes

[arttrampbelle]

Random shang tsung hcs

Cw:nsfw content. Fluff.

Tried to make it gn but it leans towards fem reader. My apologizes if this isn't my best. Its kinda done on the fly. I needed to put out some hc kontent for people.

💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤

Sfw:

I hc shang is an ugly crier. Like when he genuinely is upset,crying,etc. He's a fucking mess. Not many ever see this,so if you do. He trusts you completely. He hates feeling vulnerable.

I also have a whole ass astrology chart for him. Maybe I'll post it up later. I hc him a Taurus sun with a scorpio moon. This explains why his emotional breakdowns are oof. (Scorpio and Taurus are opposite,they are similar but different ways of handling things but they are more alike than different. But both are fixed and very stubborn,very deep,and very loyal to those they deem safe and trustworthy) again i have a whole chart for him. And I'll explain why i personally feel these fit him. (Again my personal hcs plz dont take it too much to heart this is just how i see him)

Shang tsung is particular about his hair,he takes very good care of it. Hair,in some cultures is a symbol of status and health. He takes very very good care of himself. So if his hair is absolutely disheveled. He either isn't doing so good,if his demeanor is sour. Or if he's in a good mood,he just got laid. Those are the only times he's got "bed head hair". He doesn't even let his servents touch his hair. So if he let's you,he trusts you. Unless if you're hired as his personal handmaiden,then well that's your job. But depending on how intimate or close you are in your relationship with him,he might let you go further. Either way he trusts you.

Shang doesn't tolerate disrespect. Of any kind. Especially during a tournament. He takes his role as tournament master seriously. All guests on his island,regardless if "friend" or foe. Hospitality is his specialty. All will be accommodated for. If you are disrespected,uncomfortable with someone,or someone was "out of pocket",he will step in. Especially if you're a woman (he has a bias towards in favor of women,he trusts them more,goes the extra mile more and tends to be in more favor of women in kombat,not that he doesn't trust men. Its just an unfortunate circumstances in his past that a lot of men tended to be assholes n rude around him. He's got high ass standards for men) or if you are a new kombatant (if you're new,he's gonna go a little easy on you. Because this is your first kombat,maybe even tournament. He will be extra extra gentle with you. He wants to make a good impression. Hee hee). He hates rudeness towards people who he deems as (pardon this please) soft,gentle or looks "weak" (Look he doesn't mean anything by it ok?) Mostly outside of kombat. In kombat however,your ass better be ready. He won't be as forgiving. But outside of kombat he is poised,collected,and a soothing presence. But yeah if someone's giving you trouble,all you gotta do is tell him. And he will deal with them immediately. You never have to worry about such matters with him. But especially if he likes you.

Shang tsung loves to drink morning tea and watch the sun rise. And also read n have tea before bed. As long as he does this,He feels his day is complete. Regardless if the day was "good" or not.

Shang tsung loves fruit,all kinds. But especially Tropical or outworld "exotic" fruits. Feed this man a peach,apple,or fave fruit of your choice and he will be absolutely over the moon. The only time he'll ever be practically putty melting in your hands. He loves being pampered and to pamper. Absolutely loves gentle and romantic acts of service. God damn soft shang is fucking a treat. Totally the guy to love the champagne/wine and strawberries thing.

Shang tsung is the type to be genuinely hurt if you are down on yourself. Like if you tend to be harsh on yourself,doubts,etc. He sees you as his greatest treasure. So why talk that way about yourself? He never sees you that way. He sometimes gets even a bit mad that you feel so lowly. "Dont ever lower yourself to anyone!" He would command. "You are beautiful/handsome/gorgeous,amazing,talented. Much more of a higher standing than any of these lowly souls" . Shang is totally the man to gas you up. Put you in front of a mirror. "Purr" or "coo" in your ear and say how absolutely ravishing you are. Maybe even dress you up in fine clothing. Silk even. Like this man hates seeing you down,but especially if it's you being mean to you. Not on his watch!

Shang tsung sometimes likes to watch you. Nothing in particular. No real reason. He likes to people watch. But especially you. He loves to watch you do mundane things. Or even when you train. If you are happy,cheerful. Or even stimming. He finds it absolutely delightful. He loves your company,if ever should be the day where he can't enjoy your company. He would be very distraught and very sad.

Shang is love is absolutely suffocating,intense,hot,loyal,like the devil in love. I can't see it any other way. He of course will be respectful to his beloved. However. The internal feelings of this man for you is fucking insanely high. No words could be put how much he loves you and the lengths he would go for you. He is legit a gomez. "I would kill for them,i would die for them. Either way,what bliss"

Nsfw under the cut:

Nsfw:

Shang tsung totally has a praise kink. This mofo you can't tell me wouldn't. Giving AND receiving. He will praise you to the highnth degree. Telling you in increat detail on how fucking gorgeous you are. You body,the way your smile curves,your eyes. Your hips. Etc. Like unf. This man knows how to make you feel adored. But in the same,he likes the return. To be worshiped. But i bet you knew that. Tell him how handsome and intelligent his is. Praise his mind especially and you got him hooked! Tell him how beautifully sculpted his body is. How fine this mofo is. And again,melted.

Ok shang tsung? Is shang hung. Like nothing super outrageous. But he's got some length,and a bit of girth. 8-9inch length. A decent girth nothing again outrageous. However it will stretch you slightly. Might takes some wiggle to get it in. But it feel good af.

Shang loves to talk dirty. But he's classy about it. Like he'll say things more like "you like being masters whore?" (Emphasizes the word whore with some harsh r sounds like almost a purr or a hiss) or "you take my cock so well my dear" (i hc shang says cock rather than dick or penis or any cheesy euphemism. He's too classy).

Shang tsung if you both are nude in bed. Enjoying each others company with some wine. He's the type to take either your nipple of your breasts (if you're afab),a finger,or if you want drip it on your sex. And lick it off.

He totally has toys. Magic toys,exotic edenian dildos,etc. He would use them on you. He prefers still himself,all natural,non gmo shang cock. Buuuuut if you aren't in the mood,he's busy,or you just wanna tease or try something different. He's willing to use some magic on you while fucking you with a toy. Like this man has it down pat. You're taken well care of. And he won't stop till you've had enough. Speaking of which

This man has fucking stamina for daaaaaaaaays. Even as a foxy grandpa. This man could go for hours. He won't let up till either of you are truly satisfied or you both pass out. Like kombat,he can go several rounds. Works your ass like it's his profession. >:3c

He can be soft,sensual,and slow love making. Like every stroke is just pure ecstacy. If you want it sweet,his love is like absolute honey. Or.....he could pound that ass out and make you beg like his personal whore. Mewling and begging to him. Not caring if anyone hears you. So what if they hear you. They outta know how much he loves you. And how good he fucks you. They know they'll never have you,he has you all to himself. Smug bastard he is. But his aftercare? Top notch! He will care for you like you're a delicate petal on fresh snow. Soothe any "marks" he may have left. Kiss every inch so gently. A bath? Yes. A massage? Most definitely. Anything you need. You got it. Anything you wanna do for him? You got it.

Shang tsung is the type that if he fucks you on his throne,in his throne room. If you going doen on him. He doesn't care if people see. Tho he prefers privacy in that area. But it's not as huge of a deal. However. If he's going down on you? Nah they better leave. He hates being interrupted. Eating you out/succing you.

Places on your body he absolutely is over the moon about. If reader is afab: he loves your hips,thighs,breasts,and loves to rub your clit. Pays extra attention. Yeah he knows where its at. He knows exactly how to work that pearled pussy. If reader is amab: your chest,your stomach,your arms and biceps. Loves to play with your balls. If reader is gn/in general regardless of sex or gender: your eyes,your face. The small of your back. He loves to cum on your face,chest,lower back. And if you are comfortable he will inside you buuuut if not. Those areas will do.

Shang tsung loves to watch you play with yourself. Don't matter if he's in the mood or not. He might join and play with himself with you if he is. Mutual masturbation is something that happens quite often im sure. But overall,he just likes to watch you. He might comment on how good you are with yourself. Either way. He likes to spectate. He is a tournament master after all

It isn't easy to rile him him. Getting him hot and bothered may seem like an easy task but its anything but. However,once you do. You are guaranteed to get fucked by him. One of The best ways,is to tease and stim his mind. Good conversation,genuine honeyed words and compliments. (Remember it needs to be genuine,he'll smell fakeness from a mile away) put the ball in his court,he'll play all day. Once you stim his mind and get him going he'll play lovers chase in no time.

Remember shang will undress you with his eyes and mind before ripping it off with his hands.

He won't ever say no to a blowjob. However,he loves giving you oral more. Besides he loves to fucking tease. (Gdi shang!)

Shang if he's away from his island from you. (Hey more likely that's where you'll be ok?) Like for some reason if he's in outworld,doing various personal errands. (Not for shao kahn because i hc after a certain point,he wasn't under shao kahn anymore and was free. But twice as dangerous for others because of his still unpredictability. I have a whole thing for that. But thats for another post). But if he's somewhere private,away from you. And he starts missing you and is in a "mood"*tm* . He'll start playing with himself,he doesn't usually do this,he'd rather wait till he gets home to you to relieve himself to you. But hey,sometimes it is what it is. He'll be quick about it tho. He hates getting caught with his literal pants down when not at home. He gets embarrassed easy.

Nothing changes if he's an old man or when he's young and rejuvenated. Tho i would say sex with shang as an old man tends to be more tender,slower,and more romantic. More passionate. When he's rejuvenated,healed,and full of vigor again. He'll be more confident in getting a bit more rough. Again not to say he wouldn't as an old man. He just is more self conscious about it. You'd need to be gentle with him in his more vulnerable state. Praise him genuinely as an old man and he may be a bit more interested in fucking you harder or being a bit more exerting.

Ok that's all for now. I may make more sometime.

Hope you guys like it.

🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚🐍💚❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤🐉❤

#mortal kombat #shang tsung #my hcs #not safe for work hcs #not sfw hcs #nsft hcs #shang tsung mortal kombat #shang tsung x reader #shang tsung hcs #shang tsung x you #mortal kombat x reader #❤🐉the dragon's perch🐉❤ #💚heart and soul🐍 #mk11 #mk11 shang tsung #mortal kombat 11 #mortal kombat 11 shang tsung #mortal kombat 11 aftermath #mortal kombat hcs #my mortal kombat hcs

[eddieismissing]

WHEN I GET HOME YOU’RE SO DEAD!

part one. || part two. || part three.

(based on the song when i get home youre so dead by mayday parade)

after your argument with eddie about your infidelity, things were still unclear. but your boyfriend still loved you, after all he had saved you from that man in the ally of his favorite dingy bar. (not before publicly humiliating both you and his bestfriend during his performance of a new original song). steve unwillingly brought you both back to eddie's trailer after your boyfriend demanded him to.. and now he finally had you alone. let chaos ensue. 3K+ words.

rockstar!eddie munson x reader. steve harrington. steddie x reader, (if you squint).

warnings: 18+, angst, fighting, infidelity, crying, dark content, choking, dirty talk, teasing, degradation, markings, obsessive behavior, violence, rockstar!eddie, p in v, breeding, hair pulling, slapping, biting, dom!eddie, dark!eddie, mean!eddie, rough stuff, seriously this is gonna be angsty, aftercare, misunderstandings, subspace, dom drop, soft!eddie, fluff & aftercare, two idiots in love, solving conflict, and things I'm sure I missed.

this is a wip, part three coming very soon! (edit: it’s posted!)

SMUT DIRECTLY UNDER THE CUT. NO MINORS PLEASE. 18+.

The car came to a quick stop. The tires of Steve’s car rolled on the hard gravel that mapped out Eddie’s lot in the trailer park. Your boyfriend still had you pinned underneath him in the back seat. Rough denim jeans against your skin ignited heat in your chest as his hips moved rhythmically into you. The relief you received from him against you was intoxicating, reminding you of the many times you’ve danced with him like this before. It was always loving and caring, rough when Eddie knew you needed him to clear your mind. You hoped he would clear your mind, because this time there were unanswered questions. Problems you know wouldn’t just be solved with him taking control and causing you to unravel for him. This time you both knew it was going to be different. A puzzle of emotions laid out between you two.

You hadn’t been under him like this in awhile due to your argument that led you into making bad decisions. Both of you hadn’t been able to peel back the skin of humiliation you had experienced for the past two weeks. The dream that had caused this was still lingering in the back of your mind. It was a wound that was still fresh. His reaction to your dream still stung, but it was easily forgettable as he worked against you. He held the remedy to your injury in his hands. His words. His movements. He was more kind to you than normal, but his harsh bites and tugs were laced with something strange. Your fingers played with the hem of his shirt, but you longed to place a finger on what was really bothering him.

You getting Steve involved in this situation must’ve driven Eddie up the wall. Writing that song about you and then performing it was reliving for him. You couldn’t be mad for the harsh words and digs that he wrote throughout his melodies. It was his way of expressing himself, and his feelings. You had to accept that. Especially after you had expressed your feelings with Steve. You and Eddie had been joined at the hip for as long as any of your friends could remember, so why couldn’t this have been resolved before you got to this point? The fighting was all so messy, so unexpected, so pointless. But the relief you both craved for answers and solutions was drowning in desire instead. Eddie was never good at being vulnerable without his songs and you were never good at making decisions. 

Eddie’s hips continued to work against yours roughly as he reached for the car’s door handle to make an exit. You couldn’t help yourself as your bottom lip pinched between your teeth while he surged forward. His free hand reached down to grip your hip to keep you still, his actions demanded you to be still. You could tell he didn’t want you to have any form of control after how much you had hurt him. His touch was burning as his warm fingers pushed you harder into the cushion with a growl. 

“Don’t you dare fucking move.”

A small whimper left your throat against your will as you heard the door pop open. Eddie glanced down at you with a knowing smirk. 

“Got you excited? You’re so eager for me aren’t you, sweetheart?” He said in a low whisper. His hot breath fanning against your cheeks made you blush a light pink.

Steve sighed in the front seat, reminding you he was there, “Alright, Ed’s let’s wrap this up.” 

Eddie pulled away from you and grunted, “can’t you just shut up?” Eddie barked.

He grabbed your cheek and pushed your face into the backseat cushion as he spoke to his best friend. Your face was flat on the expensive leather that dressed the back seat and was sticky from the heat that radiated off of you and Eddie. You let out a cry as the muscles in your neck turned abruptly. Eddie quickly shot his eyes at you when the subtle sound you made stirred his stomach. His eyes were scarily dark as he watched you. You couldn’t help but lift your hands and paw at him to get the loving glassy look back in his eyes. Instead, he laughed at you. You looked pitiful like this. 

You could tell Eddie was proud of his work already with the satisfaction dressed all over his face. He easily was able to get you so worked up with a few dirty words and some aggressive movements. He leaned down to lick your cheek grossly, he let his tongue hang out of his mouth as he gazed down at you. A line of spit connected his tongue to your cheek.

“Open that pretty mouth up for me.” He didn’t give you a chance to obey as he pulled you mouth open winder with his index finger and middle. Steve watched in the rear view mirror.

You moaned as Eddie’s fingers played with your throat softly. His index finger toyed with the heat of your mouth as he watched you swirl your tongue around his middle. He groaned. Eddie’s touch got harsher when you sucked him in with hollowed cheeks, your lips reaching all the way down to the hilt of one of his sparkly rings. His eyes bored into yours as he watched his jewelry sparkle with your spit. The deep black color of his pupils that swallowed his irises in the darkness of Steve’s backseat was a good reminder that he was hurt, and he was just getting started. Your heart started to beat faster. He was going to ruin you when he finally had you alone. His hand that was on your hip gripped you tighter as he watched your eyes gloss over in realization. Tonight was going to be exhausting for the both of you, physically and mentality.

When Eddie moved his touch away from your lips, you released him with a pop. Your mouth stayed open willingly. He smiled lovingly when your tongue softly fell from your lips begging him for more of a taste. Your taste buds danced with a metallic taste from the dried blood on his knuckles and a bit of sweetness from whatever he had been drinking at the bar. The flavor was evidence of him saving you from that man in the alleyway earlier, but it was also comforting and safe. Nostalgic of all of your memories shared together.

Eddie was everything you wanted and more compared to Steve. You couldn’t even remember how Steve felt against your lips when your thoughts were consumed with Eddie. Your mind and senses were sent into overdrive as you tried to compose yourself enough to hear your boyfriend's next command or question. Just trying to have enough brainpower to answer him when he spoke to you was damning when you felt this lightheaded.

It was so hard to focus. His fingers gently played with your swollen bottom lip and he laughed at you as you tried to suck him back in. He quickly gripped your throat to keep you from squirming. The pitiful whimpers that spilled from his new hand placement only seemed to edge him on. Your throat was warmed up and worked open from the previous intrusion of his big fingers, but he wasn’t going to give you something to keep your mind cloudy and occupied. He’d keep you on edge all night. You tried taking a deep breath, closing your lips in a tight line to steady your breathing while his hand soaked in your spit tightened around your throat. 

Eddie didn’t like that. He raised up slightly, and leaned back. Holding his body weight up with his knee and abandoning you. His hand that once held a vice grip on your hip was suddenly in your line of vision. He smacked you on your cheek with a harsh slap and you cried out at the pain. He smiled devilishly.

“No. None of that. If I tell you to open your mouth for me, you keep it open. I'm gonna be taking every last breath from you.”

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, you immediately opened your mouth up for him again, scared of what might happen if you disobeyed him in any way tonight. He shushed you as you winced at his gentle kisses on your cheeks. They were sure to be a little red by now. 

“Oh, baby… did I scare you? Shhh… m’sorry sweet girl. You're such a good girl for me.” Eddie leaned down to kiss your tears from your cheeks. Eddie hummed, loosening the grip he had on your throat.

“Don’t you think… I deserve it?” he kissed you again, “after everything you put me through?” he huffed.

“I’m not gonna be gentle with you tonight, we both know that.. and you’re already soooo needy baby… all because of me?” He chuckled deeply. “I wish you could see how miserable you look, all dumb for me with your mouth open wide…” 

Suddenly he was leaning closer and Eddie’s wet hot saliva was dripping into your throat, some landing on your cheek. You swallowed. He smirked as he cooed at you. His hand reached up to the spit on your cheek and spread his mark over your face messily. The taste of liquor and cigarettes filled your senses once again. He removed his hands from you and pushed open the door further. Chills went down your spine at his messy attitude, but it was partly caused by the cold air that rushed over you as the heat of Steve’s car rushed to escape out of the crack in the door. You clung to Eddie, trying to absorb his warmth. Your ankles crossed behind his back and your arms reached for purchase around his neck. They tightly landed against the back of his slick leather jacket.  

His body weight fell onto you at your motions, he let out a gruff and a laugh to mock your desperations. The sweet sound was laced with love. That was the first sign he still cared. He matched your eagerness as he pulled you to him by the small of your back and forced your legs to latch onto his hips tighter. He felt you shiver from the cold and began kissing you on your collarbone and neck to keep you warm. His tongue was soft and pillowy in comparison to his harsh biting. He dug his hips further into you to lift you up on his lap so he could slip out of the car. Your body followed him. You sat on his thighs and faced each other.

Eddie bushed your hair out of your face gently as you fit into his lap perfectly. He blushed before pausing to admire your features. He was so proud of how your eyebrows furrowed softly. You looked so precious with your swollen pink lips and blown out eyes. Eddie stared at you. 

“You’re still the prettiest girl I have ever seen. You know that? don't you, baby?” he whispered.

You silently nodded. He smiled dreamily. He knew your head was already light and spacy for him. Eddie grabbed your chin and pushed your head to the side, giving himself more access to your throat. He slowly kissed up the colom of your neck in gentle kisses. When he reached the spot that made you melt he nipped you with his sharp canines. 

“Eddie, ‘m sorry. i- i just don’t know..” you hiccupped, “do- don’t know what i was thinking, baby.” 

He giggled into your shoulder while listening to you intently. Your voice was set in a higher octave. He trailed his hot tongue from your collarbone to your neck. When he reached the shell of your ear, to accept your apology, his voice was gruff. 

“Oh yeah?” he clicked his tongue and let out a breathy laugh, “but.. sweetheart” he paused. “You fucked up bad, didn’t you?” he pulled away as his eyes softened on you. He could see your eye’s filling with more tears.

“Admit it for me. I almost got you out of that head of yours hmm? it’s okay, I've got you.. you don’t have to think about anything else but me… and I know I messed up too, pretty baby.” Eddie confessed to calm you.

“I’m gonna fix this attitude. I’ll fix this little problem you’re having thinking I don’t love you. I’m gonna show you just how much..” he kissed you gently before pulling away again. “...i love you.”

“I love you, Eddie.” You whimpered, he smiled at you before diving back into your soft neck. 

“Mmmhm. Like i said, I promise I’ll try being gentle, but I don’t think you really deserve it. Do you?” he questioned, testing your limits, wanting to know how far he could push this before he broke you.. and if you would be willing to take it. take him.

Steve groaned at his best friend's words. He sat stone cold in the front seat continuing to watch the two of you in the rear view. Steve knew this was going to be one of the last times that you were ever in Steve’s presence. Steve would be lucky if Eddie ever let you be within 20 feet of him again, and he was overly surprised Eddie even saved him from that fight in the alleyway. Eddie would’ve left him to teach him a good life lesson if you weren’t involved, but Steve’s thoughts on the whole situation didn’t stop him from speaking up again,   

“Can you guys hurry this up?” Steve spoke with his hands, pointing to Eddie’s trailer.

“A room is literally 10 feet away. At most.” He cried. 

The words Steve spoke engulfed Eddie in anger. He smirked sarcastically, clicking his tongue against his teeth. Eddie’s eyes met Steve's in the rear view as he pulled you closer. Eddie shuffled forward while he turned his attention to Steve. Eddie’s hand wrapped his hand around your throat tightly to keep your eyes on him. You whined and Steve rolled his eyes at the metalhead. Your head got lighter and the boys could see your arousal dripping from you. That's exactly what Eddie wanted. He was desperate to have you back in his arms. In his possession. You weren’t Steve’s, nor would you ever be. Deep down he knew that, but he wanted him to see it. 

Your tantrum was only caused because you thought he didn’t care about your little dream. Eddie hummed while his hand remained on your throat pushing down even harder. His grip was bruising. Your pulse was beating against his finger tips, but he paid no mind to you. All you could focus on was him as his eyes turned sharp. They watched Steve’s expressions darkly as he spoke to you. The way his head turned exposed his neck over you. It glistened with sweat in the dark lighting that flooded the car’s backseat. 

“Hear that baby? Hmm? Your little toy doesn’t wanna play with you anymore..” he snapped. “It’s not like he could really handle you anyways, you someone who will treat you like the slut you are. A doll like you needs to be properly played with.. don’t you?” 

He felt you try to nod at him while he watched Steve. His focus was back to you suddenly. Eddie’s hand moved swiftly from your throat to in the air. He smacked your cheek with an open palm. Both you and Steve jumped at the smacking sound. Your tears spilled out of your eyes from the sensations running through your body. He moved to get fully out of the car. His big boots thudded against the gravel as he lifted you out and kept you tightly to him with his strength. 

“Dumb whore. Words. You know I need your words.” he snapped. 

you whined, “..mhm.. only you know wh-what i like, m’promise.. only you take care of me.” was all you could choke out.  

His voice was deep and dark compared to your needy cries. You could feel the desire Eddie oozed to fuck you silly as he ignored Steve yelling to be careful with you as he adjusted you in his arms. He made sure he gripped your thighs hard enough to leave marks. You heard him kick the car door shut. He let out a breathy chuckle as you flinched at the noise. Eddie kissed you hungry as Steve’s car slowly backed out of the driveway. His feet carried the both of you to his trailer. Both of your eyes soft as you rubbed his cheek with your cold hand and gazed into each others eyes.

“I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry.. Eddie.” you sighed. You felt him walk up the stairs as his knees brushed against you. His hand reached into his pocket to grab his keys and he fiddled with the door knob before he spoke again. 

“You fucking better be.” he whispered before the door opened with a soft click.

His big palm rested on the small of your back as he pushed you against him. Like a magnet your legs tightened around his small waist so he could adjust you in his arms. Eddie kicked the car door closed behind him as he walked into the empty trailer. The brief walk to his house felt so long. The cold of the air outside made your skin prickle in chills, you shirt was still somewhere in steve’s car. Inside you looked at him slowly, resting your hands on his hot cheeks. He recoiled slightly, as if your cold hands burned his already hot face. You couldn’t tell if he was angry with you or if the liquor from earlier in the evening was the cause of his body heat increasing. A part of you hoped that it was you that was causing him to blush warmly. He paused as you rubbed the pad of your thumb under his eyes. A silent offer to dry his invisible tears.

“Will you ever learn to forgive me? If I apologized and told you that it’s always been you… wo.. would you believe me?” you whispered.

A look of shame danced across Eddie’s face, “Sweetheart, I know it’s always been me doll.. and listen..” Eddie sighed as he sat on the couch.

You sat politely on his lap, not wanting to put your entire weight on him. Eddie grabbed your hips and pushed you harshly against him. You yelped as your thighs split further apart to make room for him. He hummed in satisfaction.

His eyes were glassy as he spoke, your hands danced down his chest now, “I believe you and I forgive you.. but you’re gonna tell me exactly what you did with Steve in that bathroom, baby.. and you’re going to be good for me. If you disrespect me tonight more than you already have then we're going to have bigger issues.”

Eyes widened, you looked at Eddie in surprise, “You want me to do.. ed… Steve and I.. it was just a kiss.. just a kiss.” you cried. 

Eddie’s grip tightened on your waist, “..if it was just a kiss, show me.. how did you kiss him.. hm?” he raised your chin with one of his fingers so you would meet his gaze. 

“I- I don’t wanna think about Steve while i'm trying to make this up to you..” you reasoned with him. He let out a groan, “I don’t give a fuck what you wanna think about, if i demand you to show me.. you. show. me.” 

Your soft hands danced up and down your boyfriend's chest, “We.. we started like this.” You fingers continued to trace his chest. “He had his hands on me, and he was..” Suddenly eddie’s hands traced small circles on your hips. “and he put his hand on my neck.. he was gentle.” 

Eddie laughed. His fingers hovered over your hips until they were tracing your spine, when his hand met the back of your neck he gripped you hard. The muscles in your body tensed. Eddie could feel your pulse in his palm. You winced and he pulled you back slightly so he could move you anyway he wanted to.

“Of course Stevie treats you like your glass when i'm not around… he knows i'm the only one allowed to break you huh, sweetheart?”

All you could choke out was a strangled, “mh-hm.” Your boyfriend released you and tucked some of your hair behind your ear before he traced your hips again, “and what happened next?”

“..w-well we kissed.” you answered.

Eddie didn’t like that, and he was tired of repeating himself. His features turned sharp. He lifted you off of him and brought you to your feet. His frame towered over you and made you feel so small. As he crowded your space he walked forwards, you couldn’t help but flinch away from him until your back was met with the wall. Lifting both of his hands above your head, he placed his palms flat on the surface. Both of his forearms caged you in as his hot breath fanned on your face. He looked so sexy like this. 

“Do you not understand what I meant by show me? Are you to fucked out to understand my demands, pretty baby?” he paused, his eyes watching your lips part.

“You have no idea what I have planned tonight. Thought about it all last week.. couldn’t wait to see you.” he took a deep breath as if he was inhaling the fear that oozed off of your body. “I'm going to break you, like you broke me.. I cried for days, over one stupid fucking kiss.” He whined. 

“Now.. kiss me.. kiss me like you kissed him.” 

fin.

my masterlist. || part three.

#eddie x reader #steddie #steddie x reader #eddie munson #dark!eddie #eddie munson x you #stranger things au #strangerthings #strangerthings smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #reader x eddie munson #dom!eddie #sub!reader #afab!reader #fanfic writing #fanfic #fem!reader

[silusvesuius]

Your Depiction of Ulfric is literal perfection. I’ve never seen anyone who sees him in a similar way to me, until I found your account last year. I fucking love miserable old man Ulfric who could never catch a break since the day he was born. Every major event in his life (he can’t even decide which one’s the worst) shaped him in the worst yet most interesting way possible. I can’t speak enough about him, his messed up self esteem clashing with his ego, his repressed emotions and sexuality, his shattered image of his own body and mind, the constant loud arguments between the voices in his head (mostly just him arguing with hallucinations) *I’m definitely not projecting here* his unstable mood, his flashbacks and his odd obsessions with random harmful patterns he associates with familiarity. Because to him familiar=safe even if he’s basically only familiar to a constant state of worry and feeling like he’s being targeted or hunted down.

None of this seems to be getting better, at least not in a notable speed. Yet they’re all existing within a strong and powerful man. It’s quite the combination, he’s being weighted down by all of that baggage but his back is too strong to bend. He appears as if he has nerves of steel from the outside, but really if anything is made of steel in his mind, it’s the vessel that he uses to bottle all of that trauma up.

I already had a vague idea of his complicated relationship (obviously) with Elenwen but your version literally felt like it opened my third eye. It is scrumptious and your art is so beautiful it depicts every essence of it all perfectly without even needing to include words. I fell in love with it at first sight.

dis answer is kinda long so i'm (crumpling it up and tossing it under the cut)

Omg wtf Thank you's 🥺🥺🥺💕💕💕💕 this is so well put together into words; i will do 9543 backflips for demented ulfric always. i've grown to like him in canon too cause he really has that, wouldn't even call it deceitful, weirdly-content personality.. but i don't think anyone in the writing room in sk*rim HQ knows how to write a character that has been through Anything, event of any kind, so he seems too 'perfect' for a person that has been through literal physical torture, to me, and his reactions to things that should be greatly upsetting are too mild. even though him being elenwen's victim is a piece of information that's easy to miss it seems like it also completely slipped out of the writing IOFDHDJFUIO LOL.. it all obviously adds up to him seeming more appealing as a fashie character to the audience, cus a visibly mentally unwell man wouldn't do it for most people, especially when you want to sway someone to be on his side of things.

i think it's quite smart for the st*rmcloaks to be presented as the more warm and welcoming types of people but ulfric should be the coldest of them all. Bro shouldn't even have the mental and physical capacity to seem Content with his life especially in that moment. he should be the type to use his civil war motivations as an excuse to stay alive if that makes sense, cause i don't think he really wants to live, but he has things to do to keep his mind and hands busy xchkvcjcvkl//

i also really love how ulfric only has galmar as someone he's really close to, it always seemed beyond genius to me, to write them like that, it's cute... he rly is the only person to suffer thru 4 hours of ulfric Peak psychosis monologue followed by 2 hours of trying to prove to him that th*lmor and imperial soldiers aren't hiding in the chests and under the beds of the palace LMFAOO galmar is the one guy who he can sob in front of and act like a little baby fishing for compliments and reassurance, and, not all that related to ulfric as a whole, but i strongly believe that having him be so vulnerable with galmar would make galmar really excited, it would make him feel good, like no other damsel in distress could deliver that feeling EVER. having such a seemingly-strong political figure rely on you Badly and madly would feel like something else entirely 💗 it's very off-putting and perhaps inappropriate of him to feel that way when ulfric is just searching for stability, but i think that even if ulfric knew galmar felt that way he wouldn't really gaf LOL. he'd turn to elenwen if there was no one else to go to cause he 'knows' her, and he'd torment elisif cause he 'knows' her as well.. but he would be completely closed off from making connections with other people 🏆

+ bonus; elenwen's feelings for him would border on everything at once, like, every type of relationship and connection that ever exists.. she really views him as the food she left over in the fridge and will get to eat when she's back from work as a reward

tl;dr him being scarier and more .. unkempt? from the outside would make him even cooler tbhs. he should become christian and develop religious OCD

#ask #i love herrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr (him) #him just lashing out at everyone would just be cute *audience Aww sfx*

[bangsinc]

I really love the scarecrow request! I love how you write him and he's so underrated:(

Could you write HC for him with a fem s/o who is the manifestation of fear, like the literal embodiment of fear? Idk what versions of scarecrow do you write but if you could, could it be the batman animation series 👉👈?

(btw you seem like a sweet person (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。) -🩷

💀Scarecrow X Reader that Is the manifestation of fear 🎃

Hey Anon ? !! So glad ur requesting scsrecrow, defo my baby girl and my fave guy to write about. BTAS is my speciality, though I do write for any (I’m bias for BTAS)

I had many different ideas for this, I wasn’t sure if you wanted reader to be an entity or kinda like a person?? Kinda? So I played around w it! Thank you for calling me sweet btw!!! Ur so sweet :3

Since his childhood, love has never been Jonathan's forte. If it wasn’t fear, Jonathan never cared for human emotions. He’d grown content with the idea of living a life alone, after all, it’s what one expects with the path he’s taken… But then of course, there you. You’re a god/goddess to him, to put it blankley. Everything he’s devoted his life to, obsessed over.. has manifested.

Might be a bit… proddy, initially. Your existance is very much an anomaly, even in a place like Gotham city. He’d never do anything to intentionally harm you, though maybe he gets more personal than comfort.

You’re fear incarnate? How can you prove it to him? He’d love to see, though, he’d perfer if it wasn’t on him. The idea of you being so willing to show him such an ability is enthralling after all! He is the master of fear, so it’s only fit that he has such an honor.

He’d never get over having a lover like you. He has the mindset that he’ll never let you go till death do you both part (if you can even die, that is). Expect him to push a wedding, the venue a grandeur gas attack across the streets of Gotham. You have to, need to be his mistress of fear. He won’t have anything less.

He wants you by his side consistantly, for a multitude of reasons, though the greatest being that he’s grown an insane attachment and almost obsession with your being. Even in Arkham asylum, his mind races of ways to stay in contact with you (though it’s most likely you have the ability to easily assist in his escape).

Your wish is his goons command. He’s not a kind man to his goons, seeing them as no more than fools who live to serve him out of fear. Of course, his goons are now your goons, and if they dare even question this shift in authority, they’ve earned a spot as his newest test subject.

Very, very affectionate to his goddess! Think of it as a morticia and Gomez dynamic. There’s no shame, at least to him, in showing his wonderful, transcendent partner off for the world to see as he tears it apart. Constant affection, always on his hand and foot for you, it’s quite a suprise. He can be.. rather grumpy at best, kinda pathetic at most, so it’s a stark change emotionally.

(Might cling to you for protection 80% of the time). If he’s vulnerable, close to being apprehended, no fear gas, etc… he’s probably going to run to you like a scared puppy. He is nowhere near fit to really defend himself, physically at most. He returns the favor in tenfold when he can, however.

I COULDNT think of how to end this I’m ngl

#bangsinc #btas #batman #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow #the scarecrow #dc scarecrow #btas scarecrow x reader #btas scarecrow #bangs x scarecrow canon #batman x reader #btas batman #batman the animated series

[catchyhuh]

What about other relationships? And I mean it also in the platonic way? Do you have any headcanons for each pair? :)

i would LOVE to elaborate and you know i would but the reality is that there's. 24 other combinations here and i really have thought of every individual one to a degree in both a romantic and platonic sense but the only one that's like. damn near ONLY platonic to me is fujiko and jigen and frankly it's interesting so i think we'll hit that point first 

i’m just going to say it. the reason fujiko and jigen are so bitter towards each other is because they’re so alike. i mean obviously fujiko isn’t learning sick ass trick shots and jigen isn’t taking advantage of what god gave him and all but i mean in a psychological sense. they’re both very slow to trust, they think only idiots would trust THEM (major exceptions being lup and goe), and see vulnerability as something stupid and precious at the same time. also they’re both very much in theft for the money of it more than the thrill (although the thrill is def a factor for them both, they get very smiley during insane car chases and shit) WHICH unfortunately leads to the major clash between them: Dude What the Fuck That’s MY Shit

the main difference is that fujiko gets away with her betrayal, almost always, and jigen, as evidenced by his many, MANY exes, can’t really seem to cut clean ties with the people who he just doesn’t need anymore. multiple characters have insisted jigen has “softened up” since meeting lupin, and while he doesn’t seem offended by the accusation, maybe even grateful that he’s not the type of person he was before, fujiko’s never had that push FULLY come to shove, or she just… wasn’t deterred by it like he was. they both KNOW they’re bad people, and they’ve both accepted that to various degrees but in. slightly different ways. and maybe that’s part of why they clash too, just from fujiko not seeing a need to change vs jigen being very sure that he needs to-- and beyond that, maybe he’s jealous because she’s achieved a level of guarded emotions that jigen clearly hasn’t reached, based on how easy it is for people to read himIs any of this making sense. be honest. 

the two of them are surprisingly more content working together than they aren’t! if it’s “we ran into fujiko and oopsies haha i gave her the crown jewels :P” then yeah fighting starts but when it’s a job job, they almost always put aside their differences with ease. they’re both at least smart enough to realize each other’s capabilities, and when fujiko tells jigen to cut that wire, or jigen tells fujiko to swerve left, they’re not going to just IGNORE each other on that front! it’s something neither of them would say, and jigen would vehemently deny while fujiko would dismiss the subject altogether, but… yeah, they WOULD die for each other. of course, that doesn’t mean they LIKE each other, and they’re not often going out of their way to do things for one another, but it’s an interesting dynamic. like, i can barely tolerate you, but i respect you, and if only because someone else cares about you, i care. 

IT’S REALLY STRANGE like. it’s kind of like. when you have an ex-friend who liked a certain thing, and then you see like a t-shirt with that thing on it, or smell their favorite food when you walk into a cafe, and you think, “man, if we were still friends, i’d tell them i just thought of them” but, you can’t, because you aren’t still friends. fujiko and jigen are kind of like that, but without there ever being a true “friendship” period? the funny thing is both of them have managed to indirectly give the other gifts at LEAST once because they’ll be with one of the other two and go “one time i heard jigen say he likes those ties but i think the color is so dull it wraps around into being eyesearing” and “fujiko keeps saying she thinks the dupes of this purse are ugly and ‘do a disservice’ to the original but really i think they both look like shit” and then when it’s their birthday and they get this very specific thing they wanted theyre like. omg! you know me so well goemon!! i don’t even remember talking about this with you actually,

i don’t know IT’S JUST INTERESTING IT’S ALL SUPER INTERESTING TO ME. i love dissecting every tiny move they make when working together but i think my FAVORITE thing they’ve ever done together is when fujiko was stressed about lupin and goemon fighting (didn’t end up being anything severe i mean this was part 2 after all lol) and jigen just kind of leveled with her and was like “hey dude its cool. just chill out over there, they wont actually hurt each other, y’know, so like, you want a cigarette?” and she paused and was like. “yeah actually, i would” and it was as simple as that. it would’ve been easy for fujiko to snap about him assuming how she felt about this, or for her to even tease him about being worried for her sake, and it would’ve been easy for jigen to ignore fujiko’s obvious discomfort and maybe even silently enjoy it, but he didn’t, and she didn’t. and when the two of them wrapped up, jigen called her attention to tell her it was over. maybe it’s just left such an impact on me because of how relatively early in the franchise a moment like this happens, and i know i said earlier that them working together during times of crisis is interesting, but really, this is such a small thing in comparison, where it WASN’T a “we have to do this or we die” choice, but just a “we don’t have to make this suck for the other” simple decision. god i hope any of this makes sense

#(if you want any specific pair you can send another ask #i dont mind!! i just really dont know how id go off in a concise way abt EVERYONE) #also this isn't under a cut bc the last one wasn't under a cut and i want the lupin populace to Understand. after this we'll go back to it #i promise <3 #lupin iii #lupin the third #fujiko #jigen #asks #lupinions

[complexhaystack]

Late to the party, but been binge watching The Handmaid's Tale! It is such a well written drama with so many layers and nuances. I've only just started S3, and haven't read the book... But I have some thoughts, particularly about Luke.

I've seen some reddit posts describing Luke as passive. I believe his role goes beyond that - his behaviours are a milder version of the extreme male chauvinism we see in Gilead.

Luke ends up staying with three women (at least up till where I watched :p) in Canada. While this on the surface seems to show his patience and kindness, his role in the house becomes a milder parallel to the Commanders in Gilead in several ways:

- In a scene where the four eat around a table, the three women have to watch Luke's mood for some time - as Luke presses Emily because he is inconvenienced by her presence. Heck about Emily's trauma, or that she risked her life to bring his wife's child over. A man is inconvenienced and something must be done. Thankfully Moira is assertive enough, but she also has to rein Luke in rather than Luke having sufficient EQ to rein himself in, while the other two women are uncomfortable. This echoes how the women in Gilead homes constantly have to watch for the man's cue and mood, and adapt their behaviours around him.

- The fact that Luke presses Emily for answers before she's ready to speak - also shows that he does not understand the gravity of the trauma that the three women before him have faced. He wants answers and he expects her to answer. Sounds familiar? (Yes sir)

- The above also indicates that under stress, he externalises how he feels as someone else's responsibility (usually a woman in the scenes he's in). This is done more subtly than the Gilead villainous men, because Luke is generally shown as kind. He is irritated at Emily because he's reminded of June. He says his wife is trying to eff up his life when he's the one who cheated. Once again, these are much milder, but also echoes of how the men in THT have low emotional immaturity and generally blame others for their situations or feelings. (The exception is Nick, but that's a whole other discussion on how he attunes to June's needs and allows her alot of space to be vulnerable.)

- Luke's passivity is reflected in many areas of his life in Canada and pre-Gilead. He laughs off the increasing restrictions placed on women (like signing off forms for June, or saying dismissively he'll take care of her). In Canada, I presume he works, but so does say, Moira - yet the caregiving of baby Nichole is left primarily to her (that is, his passivity is also in falling to stereotyped gender roles). Moira takes up a job at another refugee posting, actively helping people from Gilead where possible. She also sits and flips through thick binders for a long time to find out whether her gf was alive. In contrast, Luke appears quite content to let news come to him most of the time (even getting his mail Moira had to get it for him). June also once said that he never learnt how to use the dishwasher properly. This sense of passivity and honestly, entitlement - while the women around him are either proactive or helping Luke do things reminds us also of how Commanders in Gilead basically don't do much themselves, their households are primarily kept up by a legion of women in different roles. (Of course, what they do is to inflate their self importance by "working" to control these women.)

- It might be a minor point, but I also find it interesting that in his interaction with Waterford when Luke tried to hit him, his main concern was "you rape my wife!". While this is a legitimate concern, this also partially can be seen as a very subtle and normalised way of Luke positioning June as his woman, and something of his has been violated. He doesn't go up to Waterford to ask how or where June is, or that she's being held captive by him, or demand that she be let go. This point is again a very subtle one - Luke's focus appears to be on (1) June being violated by this man, and (2) an empty threat that he'll fight Waterford. Both in a sense a matter of potential male pride, which we also see echoed in Gilead's awful harsh consequences for adultery by a woman (because the man is cuckolded).

In other words, Luke got out of Gilead early, but his own almost invisible chauvinism (because of how normalised it is) makes males like him in the story complicit in some ways of how Gilead came to be.

I don't take issue with Luke not trying extreme ways to get back to Gilead to save Hannah and June, he might not have the guts to become a hero - and that's okay, most normal people don't. But his role in the story reminds us of how smaller echoes of extreme chauvinism can play out. I think if he did not manage to escape Gilead, perhaps he might have found he could adapt quite well to its regime.

Perhaps there'll be further development of his character, but at this point in time while watching, he sure is in the unlikeable bucket.

#the handmaid's tale

[ineffectualbookseller]

hi! i really liked that meta about crowley lying, and wanted to ask about this part:

"We know Crowley has self-esteem issues. He's all smoke and mirrors - not a man (nb) just a flashy jacket wrapped around a bundle of insecurities and anxieties. He still thinks he needs to prove himself to Aziraphale, that he needs to make himself worthy of his partnership."

i definitely see him this way too (and love how it's phrased, btw), but now that i think about it i can't remember why i formed that opinion, so i wanna make sure i'm not projecting or something, if you have thoughts on it? is a big part of that impression just vibes?

couple of concrete things i do remember:

the way it was so natural for him to ask questions and try to figure stuff out when he was an angel and how after that he very harshly learned that the way he naturally approached the world was wrong. gotta have some insecurity after something like that

yelling at plants

the way he hides a lot of stuff from aziraphale like you mentioned. if someone avoids being vulnerable with a person they're close to that much, they must have something to prove

Thank you!

I think theres a lot of reasons I see him this way and I think those all feed into it - I LOVE tying in his hobby of yelling-at-plants to this characterization! He wont hurt people, and he wont hurt animals but he swears he's *deffinately* 100% not a nice guy and he'll prove it to you (and himself) by yelling at some plants (so silly of him)

textually, the way he's written is clear cool-guy-facade characterization to me and I remember having that impression of him the first time I read the book a decade or so ago. One of the little details I've always remebered so clearly from the book is the joke about Crowley only going to a petrol station once in order to get James Bond bullet-hole decals to stick on his window (very funny but also very telling). He's explicitly trying to be cool... and doing it in a very uncool way

but I think my feelings about alot of the underlying insurities Crowley has comes from David Tennant's acting choices. Tennant's version of Crowley clearly has unresolved feelings about falling, I just think you can see it in his face when he talks about it in season 1. And the way he refutes any refrence to his kindness always feels like more than just "dont let hell hear you talk like that" to me - it feels deeper and more personal. He can get ANGRY about it (ie season 1 wall scene). Almost like when he was cast out of heaven he was told he could never be Good, but now that he's a demon he can't deal with people telling him he's also no good at being Bad... and where does that leave him? (Not to mention the Fall can so easily be tied to emotions of parental abandonment.) So yeah, definately has trauma from the Fall, as you said

pairing this with Crowley's utter devotion to Aziraphle (clear through both Tennants acting and also the added tv content of seeing their relationship through time) I don't think there's anyway his insecurities could not effect how he feels about their relationship

so yeah, I think its a combination of things - I do think theres specific textual stuff about Crowley that lead me to think of him this way but David Tennat's acting definarely makes it so much more real to me

#asks #Yay! I love getting messages and having fandom discourse - thank you for reaching out! #(also Crowley using the nickname Angel for Aziraphale... #yes its a term of endeerment but also such a reminder of the two very different places theyre coming from... he's always thinking about it) #good omens meta #good omens 2 #good omens

[mayorasmusings]

Here are headcanons about Mista and Abbacchio.

It is an AU-ish situation, where everyone gets to live and is a bit later than the Vento Aureo-events.

I love Monica Bellucci and I love those boys and this is a little Hommage to them.

Those are friendshippy scenarios, but you're free to interpret this, the way you want to.

The cut is for length.

- Mista and Abbacchio discovered that they both love Monica Bellucci, when there was movie-night at the HQ, with the rest of the gang.

- "Maléna" was on and Mista was rather boorish about expressing his attraction to this stunning actress.

- There was a considerable amount of alcohol involved, too. So cut this man some slack.

- Abbacchio silently enjoyed himself and was kind of was amused by Mista expressing a sentiment that he himself, held about this wonderful actress. Just in his Mista-ish, dumb, direct way.

- In his drunken head, Abbacchio admitted to himself, that he enjoyed the little self-restraint Mista had and kinda wished, he was more like that. Just being in the moment, without calculation or shame.

- Abbacchio liked Monica Bellucci beyond her looks and obvious sex-appeal. She was an exceptional and talented actress to him. Who worked with brilliant directors and other top-tier actors.

- Her, having played as one of the brides of Dracula, in "Bram Stoker's dracula", was just a bonus to the grumpy gothman.

- Mista and Abbacchio were the only ones hyped up about the movie. Everyone else was rather bored.

- Narancia wanted something with explosives, action and maybe some superheroes. Fuugo was disgusted by the amount of sexually suggestive content that was displayed. Trish was rather disturbed by the plot and the ending of the movie - going straight to bed at some point. Giorno wasn't around, probably on a mission or something.

- The only one, aside from Mista and Abbacchio, who was watching intently, was Bruno. He found the plot rather fascinating and was interested, why his friends liked this movie so much. He was the least drunk of them all.

- Narancia already fell asleep on the couch. Fuugo took mental notes about the plot, to be able to harshly criticize it, if someone brings it up.

- You must imagine, really Abbacchio loosens up when he drinks. So this dude seriously went over to Mista at the end of the movie and uncharacteristically fist-bumped him for having good taste.

- Mista is just as confused as happy, because not too many people liked this actress...and since when would Leone Abbacchio offer a fist-bump, out of every gesture in the world? He was blissfully confused.

- At a sober moment, some days later, both of them started exchanging what they liked about Monica Bellucci and they realized... Things.

- Abbacchio noticed, that Mista wasn't actually that dumb and had some really good taste. He didn't think that "Combien tu m'aimes?" was a favorite of his. He imagined something like "Shoot 'em up" or "Maléna" (which he only picked, because he hadn't seen it in a while) being his favorite. Movies, catered to simpletons, who needed a masturbatory aide, in his opinion.

- Mista realizes that Abbacchio is capable of more than anger, snark and general coldness.

- This dude seriously told him that he cried, when he watched "Irreversibel". It was a horrifying movie, but he wouldn't ascribe this type of emotion to that goth ice-king. Though it kinda made Mista have more respect for him, for admitting a rather vulnerable information like that.

- So Mista, as warm and friendly as he is, suggests that they have a movie-marathon with films in which Monica Bellucci plays a more central role, than just being eye-candy. Abbacchio enthusiastically approves.

- From a movie-marathon, they became film-buddies and would visit the cinema together, if something interesting came up. Sometimes someone or the whole bunch from the rest of the gang came along, sometimes they were just alone.

- The discussions and exchange that they had, made the movies more interesting.

- At some point, Bruno suggests that they open a radio-show around movie-critique, since he enjoyed listening to their conversations about the newest blockbusters and arthouse-movies.

#mine #jjba headcanons #jjba 5 #Bucci-gang #jojo abbacchio #leone abbacchio #Mista #monica bellucci #jjba #Malena #irreversibel

[hangingoffence]

so many questions i have, but i wanna ask about the oc in that unknown soldier piece ur published! who is he? any strong ideas of his character/plot or is he more of a vague oc for drawing purposes? also, any oc uve made for entirely self-indulgent reasons? not for a story or specific idea just 'it would be so cool'/'theyre just like me' kind of motivations

<333 MWUAH MWUAH

His name is Patrick and he exists in the same bubble as Michael and Ronnie.

They all do have backstories but they don't really have like a coherent plotline or a story with a message. They all represent different things. They all have a long long history of being different characters and changing and growing as i grew. There are different iterations of them and these "newest" ones mostly represent my own struggles with adulthood and also they represent my want for male friendships bc ive never really had that.

Patrick form all the three might be the one that I myself relate to the most and the one i project myself most to. He's my fav even if I like almost never draw him <333

Patrick is very quiet and non confrontational. He goes with the flow and doesn't really stick out. He doesn't voice out his thoughts that much and usually gets along with anyone. He's like that one kid in school that you see all the time but don't really know anything about.

He lives with his mother and his step-father. When he was about 12 years old his father died in a car accident, which left his mother depressed and vulnerable. (there's this scene that im debating over where a few weeks after his father's death, Patrick's walking home and see what he thinks is his father at their house's window. He runs in and sees a figure for a second before it disappears. this is just me consuming paranormal content thought lol) His baseball cap was originally his fathers.

When his step-father came into their lives, it was more of Patrick's mother needing a person her age to lean onto and that man taking an advantage of that situation. From the start Patrick and his step-father did not get along. Or more like his step-father did not like him. He became very verbally and physically abusive towards Patrick.

During his teenage years he started drinking which slowly it developed into alcoholism. He also got addicted to painkillers because of his constant headaches. After he turned 18 he immediately left his childhood home and moved to his own apartment in another city. His addictions got even worse when he lived on his own. Though he was able to hold a job, he still found himself being drunk rather than sober.

The main shtick is his struggle with addiction and more directly alcoholism(theres a direct link to finnish alcohol culture in him bc of my background but i wont get into it now). And i like to explore it from Ronnie's perspective. In their 20s they reconnected after having a falling out in high school and Ronnie witnessed first hand the brutal grip that the addiction had on his friend. And knowing that he truly can't do anything unless Patrick himself wants to get better (bc thats the way with addicts they will never recover if they don't want it themselves. you cant force them to quit bc they will go back). Eventually he lost his job and needed to get help from the goverment to survive and to pay his bills and have food. Ronnie at first helped him out finacially but then he realized it's just enabling Patrick's addiction bc all that money he got was spent on alcohol, so he stopped that. But still gave him emotional support but refused to help him out financially.

Through years and years of struggle and after many stern talks with Ronnie, Patrick started to realise his own illness. He saw how bad his health was and how alcohol had fucked him up in every level, he started a recovery journey.

After he got out of the chains he returned back to his hometown and to see his mom. But he was greeted by his childhood home turned into a dumpster. His step-father had left his mother years ago and she was left to take care of herself alone. She had started hoarding due to the stress and depression and had developed early signs of alzheimers. Patrick took her to a hospital and got her some treatment. He struggled with his own guilt of leaving her and letting her get to that stage.

Also he's like the one oc that fears every time i look at them bc they know they will go through some shit

#this was so all over the place but em ily <333 thank you for asking #oc tag #emyr #ask

[talkingharrystyles]

“Your thoughts on the „clubbing“?! Please share I‘m so curious!!!”

🌌Looks like damage control, on steroids, that is driven by fear, and fueled by desperation, to reinforce the idea of being youthful, and exact vengeance, depending on the source, that one of Harry’s flings have been exposed.

Don’t know why she’s upset. He did say that he only considered her as his director. Everybody knows that Harry is having flings to temper the sting of loneliness… oopsies, did I just confirm the rumors?

It’s not like it’s a dozen of bodies. That would be way too much work for him to fit into his schedule, as of late.

It is naive to believe that Harry has adapted celibacy into his life. He IS a man after all. HE DOES struggle with expressing his emotions and resolving issues. He retreats into familiar outlets to handle stress.

As always, OW overplayed her hand.

It’s a bit odd timing that there’s content of them “clubbing” after that specific theme was the hot topic of recently and publicly aired out conversation.

I might be stretching, but also it’s coming on the heels of Harry, being reported, accepting a fan’s prom proposal.

Undoubtedly, this fan will enjoy the freedom that his “girlfriend” is vehemently denied which is posting of him and her enjoying themselves at a dance.

Really there is nothing more to say. I’ve only seen a recirculated video and an unreliable, conflicting detailing of it.

Who knows. If OW is smart, (we know you’re lurking here for tips), then she can break the wheels here, and use this excursion to her benefit.

She can claim that she did “try to keep up with Harry’s riotous living” (visible proof of this now exists), but she “could not espace the constant mommy guilt of abandoning her children”.

For real, OW. Get out, with what shred of dignity you might still have, while you still can.

It is kind of perplexing, as to why OW felt like a “huge f&$!@“? failure as a parent”, though.

She’s earned mother of the year with her constant need to be present around Harry to supervise him.

She’s stalks protects him to make sure that the big bad boogeyman and candyman leaves him alone. She neglects sacrifices her time and responsibilities to have time to chaperone him to places.

She has, now, taken on the role of his designated bodyguard to a night club.

How sweet that she forsakes precious sleep, as she’s one who “goes to bed earlier”, to make sure that no mean person could take advantage Harry him in a vulnerable state.

We can assume that she drove him home, bathed him, changed him into warm pajamas, warmed his tea, and read Love is A Speical Way of Feeling to him, until she was sure that he was sound asleep.

Enjoying special dreams where he can be who he wants to be. And be with whom he truly wants to be with.

I mean, yall, she did go to great lengths to purchase him a new elephant head just to settle his temper tantrums.

She IS taking this unofficial guardianship very SERIOUSLY.

If that’s not a mothers love, I don’t what is.

By all standard, I’d say OW has not only earned the title of mom of the year, she’s earned the satchel. The scepter. The throne, AND the crown.

Oh wait- she’s suppose to be the gf, right? Yeah, then, this isn’t passing the sniff test.

In fact, it smells worse than her overly greased hair and foul intellect.

This is why I have an issue with individuals who are obsessed with linking their identities to political movements, but fail to actually participate in those movements.

I’ve said it before. Olivia’s titles are nothing more than armor against criticism that is disguised as false virtue.

I mean, she is one of the few whom Amber Heard has followed on SM. You are the company you keep.

If the sexes were reversed, people wouldn’t be romanticizing this unusual behavior and would, I hope, call it for what it is: possessive, toxic, psychotic, controlling, and, borderline, abusive.

Just because it’s fake, it still is disturbing that Harry, one who claims to be against toxic relationships, is promoting a relationship to the naive that has the hallmarks of toxicity.

Not all fans are smart, and can distinguish reality from fantasy. Which is why the charade was agreed to, and still is gaining traction.

They know that impressionable minds will consume this.

People will romanticize it because, rather than showing them a HEALTHY relationship, they (Harry Co. Olivia Insane. and Jason and the gang) prey upon and weaponize onlookers insecurities and desires to garner attention.

Holivia validates psychotic fan girls, as Olivia is the very embodiment of WHO THEY ARE. Mentally unhinged, obsessive, compulsive, addictive to fame, and will suffocate a man, until he’s not breathing anymore (interpret that as you will).

This is why shippers cling to Holivia.

They see themselves in Olivia’s insanity, and are thrilled that their behavior is being rewarded with the very person whom they have formed their lives around.

Harry’s not responsible for peoples own free choices. He is, however, accountable for influencing naive minds by engaging in behavior, with the knowledge that there are gullible onlookers of his who are watching and believing everything he does is TPWK.

Putting aside the reality and mockery; exactly how drunk was Harry? I know people like to laugh at his affectionate, cuddly behavior, but they do need to remember that this is someone whom uses alcohol as a depressant. Alcohol IS his veil lifter.

While he typically becomes affectionate, when consumed in excessive, and depending on the stress he is dealing with, HE IS A CRIER. A blubbering one at that.

He does suffer with CONTROL ISSUES.

He does implode when the pressure is insurmountable.

He tries to medicate it, though, by using work, exercise, and alcohol. Drugs, eh. He’s not this pothead people keep thinking that he is.

But people has witnessed him, under the influence of alcohol, crash severely.

He has admitted his consumption of alcohol tethering the line between recreational drinking and acting as a coping mechanism.

If you reflect on old pics, you’d see that him drinking is a common activity in Holivia content.

I keep finding it unsettling that, realistically, a person is increasing needing to be constantly inebriated to withstand being in the presence of a specific person.

🌌

#🌌

[hinamie]

WAIT I forgot I need to scream some things happened in the time i spent Offline(tm) ok belated life update

THE MOST RECENT FORMER VANDAL SONGS. SIIIRSSSSSSS. OROBOROS. PARABLES. HOLY FUCKMXING SHIT HOLY SHIt also side note the lyric video fr parables??? my man can PAINT??????? KING shit. absolutely immaculate. anyway im thriving they rly r leaning so hard into the tainted-holiness coming-to-terms-with-being-forsaken-by-god vibe with this upcoming album I'm sososoosososo here for it i cannot WAIT,, like hello... "forgiveness ain't what i wanted / prodigal son; I learned how to live without it" BARS BARS BARS like i get it im biased by my own Mentaw Heawf and complicated relationship with religion but ive never felt more Seen by song lyrics than with fv songs i'm actually so grateful for having discovered them by complete fluke like what 3-4 years ago? who would i be truly

i got RLY into god of war ragnarok playthroughs . like. way more than i was expecting bc hyper-violent triple-A titles are usually not the kind of gaming content i like to consume at all but i took a chance and holy fuck am i glad i did i would die for atreus n may or may not have shed real tears at the father/son navigate trauma n emotional vulnerability character arcs,,, kratos saying he's sorry fr chasing atreus away lives in my FUCKING HEAD n it makes my throat tight owie ouch my kokoro

speaking of games!!!! NEW POKEMON CONTENT i havent downloaded scarlet or violet because i for one cannot get past the graphics n im not a huge fan of open world gameplay a lot of the time but CHARACTER DESIGN WENT OFFFFFFFF except geeta sorry i dont see it but can we TALK about grusha pls. pls can we talk about him because *pokemon challenges voice* HOLY FUCKING FEMBOY also honourable mentions iono atticus ortega they rly did not have to go so hard but im so happy they did

uhhhhh irl-wise in one of my lectures i sat next to a Cute Boy and failed to flirt enough to convey my interest before the semester ended :( ,, did i technically flirt no I don't think so but i bought him a cookie for his birthday so youd think he'd take the hint but oh well im not too bummed out about it gfhjds trying to console myself that its probably for the best because he was a sagittarius

IM SEEING WATERPARKS IN MAYYYYY also im graduating in may what the fuck but more importantly WATERPARKS i havent been to a concert since 2019 holy shit im hyped

anyway life update over thats what u missed on glee ig idk ive never seen the show i have self-respect

#personal #oversharing time besties <3