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lamnwar · 5 months

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Like my hair, sweets? // Kise Ryōta x Fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

omggg this was a request and I took so long to work on it that I was happy when I finished it but my dumb ass accidentally deleted the ask ☠️☠️ I think it was @sonofattacomeunapigna?? Girl if it was you lmk and sorry again for taking so long + deleting the ask 😭

Context: in which your boyfriend shows you his new haircut and gets quite the reaction from you. <3

Warnings: slight nipple play, pussy eating (basically that's all it is 🤭), hair pulling, and I think that's all?

Pretty boys have always been your type. There’s just something with the flutter of their long eyelashes, the plump of their pink lips, the perfect balance of sharp and soft in the lines of their faces that makes you go wild for them.

So, it comes to no surprise that you’re dating the ultimate pretty boy, Ryōta Kise. His idol-type self has never been one to go unnoticed, hoards of girls (and boys) at his feet every since he hit puberty and developed his features for which he is famous now. But amongst all the things that make him such a beauty – way beyond is Greek-god like figure, or his enticing honey-coloured eyes – one thing has always stood out to you: his hair.

Granted, Ryōta’s hair has always been eye-catching; not a lot of Japanese people can claim to be naturally blond, golden locks adorning their head since birth. You like to believe your boyfriend to be stellar, quite literally. Overwise, why would he be so radiant, if he’s not a star? A true light, that with a smile and a couple of sweet words, makes you forget the stupid little things he’s done, like putting water everywhere in the bathroom after his shower, or accidentally bleaching your black clothes. And he just has to lay his head on your chest, letting you run your fingers through the sun-like strands as he kisses your skin softly between “sorry, I can be a dumbass sometimes.”

But something is different today, you figure as he walks into your room with nonchalance – or rather, a semblant of nonchalance. There’s the shadow of a grin hiding on his face when he lays his eyes on you, making you certain that he craves for you to notice him, to say something. You ponder if you should give him that pleasure or toy around with him a bit longer. Anyways, the choice isn’t up to you – it’s up to your self-control. Yeah, because for how long can you keep your hands to yourself, when he’s looking like that?

“Ryō, come here a minute” you gesture to him from your spot on the bed.

You’re splayed on the mattress, somewhat resembling a spirit, giving him the call he’s been hoping for. And the pretty boy climbs on bed right to your side, looking at you with anticipation. You stare at him, fingers reaching for his face and leaving sweet caresses on his cheeks before you trail them up to his hair. They feel soft, the fresh perfume of his shampoo coming to you when you ruffle his locks.

“Hey!”

You laugh, a mischievous smile on your face as he tries to find his phone in a hurry, opening the front camera to put his hair back as it was.

“What?” you chuckle “You wanted me to notice, right? I just did.”

“Don’t ruin it if you dislike it.” He pouts from the other side of the bed.

You look at him, raising your eyebrows.

“I love it, the fuck you’re talking about?”

“Huh?”

You smile, climbing on his lap as you run your fingers through his hair again – but nicer this time, as to not dishevel his golden lock.

“Your new haircut” you hum, leaning in while his hands rest on your thighs, slightly gripping them under the sensation of your nails racking his scalp, “I didn’t know you could get hotter but here I stand, corrected.”

“Yeah?” He tilts his head, wanting to look unaffected by your compliment, but he fails miserably.

Ryōta gets compliments every other day, replying to them with a smile and a “thank you, that’s sweet” almost like an automat programmed to do just that. But when sweet words to his ego come from you, it’s a different story. It always makes him blush like a silly teenage boy in love, words of praise that make him feel better about himself than any trophy he’s ever got, or any magazine cover he’s ever been on.

“Love your new hair, Ryō” your honeyed voice travels to his ear like a song, “can’t stop thinking about messing it while you’re between my legs.”

Your lewd words go straight to his cock, a flow of blood rushing to make it twitch. You feel it against your thighs, as you draw closer to him on his lap. Soft chuckle coming out of your lips, you wrap your arms around his neck, humming.

“See, Ryō, soft hair like yours is made for me to tug on it. Wouldn’t you agree?”

He laughs, nodding at your words. He’s truly shining, you think to yourself as he smoothly manhandles you to put you on your back, his slender fingers on your thighs as he opens them up.

“You’re absolutely right, sweet face.” He nods, playfulness in his golden irises. “You know what? Maybe you should be the one to do my hair, hm?”

You giggle, feeling his soft lips press against yours before he trails his kisses down your neck, then to your collarbones, sucking the skin just enough to leave a mark. His odyssey down your body continues, face buried in between your breasts under your shirt, peppering the skin with smooth kisses. He watches your breath accelerate, the beats or your heart resonate in his ear as he toys with your hardened nipples. You bite back your whimpers, refusing to let him know that he’s making you so desperate already by merely playing with your tits. But Ryōta is observant, particularly with you, and he knows what’s brewing in that body of yours. The lust, the need for him.

Getting his head out of under your shirt, the blond straightens up, running his fingers through his hair, pulling them back, as he exhales. His fringe falls back on his face, offering a perfect frame for his gorgeous eyes. You watch him, the blinks of the dark lashes you love so much, then the warm flame that only shows up when he hungers for the sweet taste of you.

“I’m gonna eat you out so good babe, you want me to, huh?” He asks as he goes back between your legs, tugging on your shorts with the clear intent of removing them.

“Uh-huh!” you nod enthusiastically, not bothered to hide your excitement.

You know, for all the time you’ve been with Ryōta, that he is the kind to apply himself when it counts; and taste the sweet nectar of your cunt is one of those things that he takes seriously, vowing to perfection, the moment his lips meet the sensitive skin of your mound. He honours every parcel with kisses, fingers trailing down your slit to split you open. He chuckles, looking up at you like an angel.

“So wet already, hm? Just from the idea of me between your legs?”

You blush, muttering an embarrassed “fuck off, Ryō”, which only makes him laugh more. You’re adorable, he thinks, writhing under him as his tongue teases your clitoris, sending jolts of pleasure across your body. You whimper, grabbing his hair as he buries his face in your cunt, lapping at your sweet nectar like it gives him life. And maybe he does, by the way his breath hitches in his throat and he whines against you. You can almost read his mind – “pull my hair again.”

Your fingers tangled in his blond locks, you pull him closer, deeper in your pussy. Nose pressed to your skin as his tongue dips in your hole, then goes back up to twist on your sensitive clit, a dance of sorts, as he makes out with your cunt.

“Ah… Ryō, fuck!” you whine, hips bucking forward you move against his face.

Your hold on his head intensifies, almost as if you want him to stay there and not move, ever. Yeah, that’s where your pretty boy belongs – face deep in your pussy.

He hums, adding two of his slender fingers to the moves of his tongue and lips, sending you to the edge faster than you wish. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly he gets you there, on the brink of your orgasm. But almost as if he knows it, he pulls away despite your strong hold on his head. You gasp, looking up at him in confusion.

“Ryōta!” you whine, like a brat who’s been denied what she wants for the first time ever.

He laughs, pecking your pouting lips in a way that makes your blood boil. But before you can say a word, his fingers dip back inside your cunt, curling to hit the spongy spot that makes you mewl like a beast in heat.

“Aw baby…” he says through his teasing grin, “can’t I toy with you? That’s my pussy, after all.”

You can’t voice your protest, only whining in response. He cackles, and you feel like slapping him for being such a fucker, but the way he looks right now is too godly for you to even risk it. The gloss of his lips caused by your juices, the mischief in his eyes, and his messy hair, looking like he’s just come out of a storm.

“Ryō, make me cum, please!”

“Oh, that’s new” he raises an eyebrow, “you say please, now? How sweet. Should I-“

“Yes!”

He tuts, leaning forward again, just close enough for his breath to fan on your erect clitoris, but not close enough for your satisfaction.

“You didn’t even let me finish my sentence. Saying “yes” like that… tsk.” He chuckles lowly, smirking. “What if I was asking if I should leave you like that, hm?”

You quickly shake your head, hands finding their natural place in his hair as you press him to your pussy.

“Ryō, I wanna cum!”

He giggles, kissing your clit.

“Ah, you’re too sweet for me to say no.”

You could almost sigh in relief if it wasn’t for the way he knocks the air out of your lungs by lapping languidly at your cunt. You squirm, thighs closing around his head while you tug at his hair. If you weren’t too busy being tongue-fucked so good, you would have certainly heard the slight moan he’s voiced when you’ve pulled his hair, but that’s ok. If you ever realise how much he likes the way you tug at his locks, it would probably be the end of him. He can’t hand you that privilege, give you an opportunity to drive him crazy the same way he’s driving you crazy right now.

“Fuck, gonna…”

You pant, pulling on his hair as he gives you the final blow, a silent cry coming out of you before you let go of him. It takes the sound of his voice to bring you back to Earth, and you look in front of you, facing the pretty face of your boyfriend. He’s so beautiful, you think, his wild strands of hair falling in his face as he hovers above you. He smiles, leaning in to kiss you. You respond with hunger, not recognizing yourself in that neediness. And yet…

“I’m not done with you, sweet face.”

#hopefully whoever asked for this is satisfied <3 #i was super happy to write about kise!!!#last game! kise resides in my head 24/7 #he got me sooo 🤰🏾🤰🏾🤰🏾#knb #kuroko no basuke #knb x reader #knb smut #kise ryota #kise x reader #kise smut

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thebluemallet · 1 year

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My Top 10 Favorite Moments From Bridgerton Season 2, Episode 1: "Capital 'R' Rake"

It has officially been one year since Season 2, so please enjoy my upcoming series of posts about my favorite moments from each episode (and ignore the fact that I never finished doing this for Season 1). My favorite moments in no particular order (except maybe chronological):

10- Daphne Passes the Torch

The first Bridgerton we see this season is the previous season's lead: Daphne. And before the show cuts to the opening credits, she wishes Anthony-this season's lead-good luck on the marriage mart. It's a nice cinematic choice for the show to pass the torch on to the next Bridgerton who will fall in love. Let's hope that next season keeps it up with something similar between Anthony and Colin.

9- Bridgerton Family Dynamics

The whole family arguing outside of Eloise's door while she's getting ready is hilarious. Daphne and Anthony are ready to beat down the door and drag Eloise out. Violet has to tell Benedict to be quiet when he's listing ways Eloise might have escaped her room so that her younger daughter doesn't get any ideas. Benedict recognizes that Daphne, who loved her season, is the last person that Eloise, who hates the idea of the marriage mart, wants to see. Francesca is the calm voice of reason when she insists, "Of course [Eloise] is still in there!" and even tries to fan her in the carriage. It's moments like these when they seem like a real, chaotic family.

8- Anthony's Debutante Montage

Anthony trying and failing at the marriage mart is amazing. I feel for the poor ladies. I feel for poor Anthony. I'm mesmerized by his hair in this particular sequence for some reason?

And let's not forget that this is the return of the viscount's bum. We saw it in season 1. It returned in season 2. I wouldn't mind seeing it in season 3. He's got a great bum.

7- The Great Kanthony Race of 1814

This is the best meet cute, hands down. Anthony's returning home like a zombie, trailing behind two geese (foreshadowing!), on a dim and cloudy morning. Then, out of the mist, emerges a mystery rider: Kate Sharma. The sun finally comes out when they speak with each other and Anthony is left with a genuine smile on his face.

6- Lady Danbury Versus Newton

Lady Danbury probably already guessed she was going to have her hands full this season when she clocked Kate's mud-soaked hem, but the look she gives Newton just confirms it.

5- Kate Seeing Anthony At The Conservatory

If you had any doubts about how charmed Kate was by her short meeting with Anthony in the park, wonder no more. For someone who said she's only interested in finding a match for her sister, Kate sure is interested in Anthony. She already has quite a crush on him. Too bad Anthony ruins it by opening his mouth five minutes later.

4- Deficient Character (and Horsemanship)

Anthony and Kate meet again! Anthony is still smitten by this mystery rider and pleasantly surprised to see her again. Kate, on the other hand, has taken a disliking to him after hearing about his "requirements" for a wife. After verbally dressing him down, she leaves him in the dust and Anthony.exe quits working for a while.

3- Benedict Bridgerton Has No Chill

I've posted about this before, but if THIS is Benedict trying to be casual with a girl he likes:

then every last one of the Bridgertons will know he's in love with Sophie within ten seconds once his season comes around.

2- Eloise Putting Down Cressida

Eloise's impatient and blunt declaration that she would "rather die" than be friends with Cressida was hilarious and to the point. Sometimes dealing with bullies requires finesse. Sometimes it requires telling them to just fuck off already. Eloise chose the latter.

1- "Miss Sharma, my lord."

Anthony has decided to just marry the diamond and be done with it. And when Edwina passes his "test" with flying colors, Anthony probably thinks that everything will be smooth sailing from here. Only to find out that the sister he has to impress is the same woman from the park. And he finally has a name to put to the face.

#bridgerton #bridgerton season 2 #kate sharma #anthony bridgerton #kate x anthony #anthony x kate #kathony #kanthony

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demoiselettes · 2 years

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Oh my im incredibly sorry i need to re - do my match - request again ( i forget a few things ) 😅

My name's Jana Pronouns are she / them! Physical appereance is short brow hair that ends with the color red, People say my skintone is like... light colored coffee, My eues are color brown that shines somehow in the any form of light. I'm also bisexual I like : food, animals, ghibli movies and COSTUMES Dislikes : shorts skirts, rude people, people crying and ruined artworks My hobbies are: Cosplaying, Cooking, Sleeping And Drawing!

Personality: People Often Say I Am confident and sassy but i am kind once you get to know me! If your my friend you probably get Candies everyday ( its my tradition to give candies to people i like. ) I have a soft spot for children! If someone cries well i'd try my best to comfort them maybe hug them, listen to them and give them money, if your my friend i'd chase anyone who hurt you with a broom

Extra infromation : I like potatoes give me one and your the love of my life, cats... Really like me! Idk how and idk why, I really like to bake or cook food especially Cupcakes! Fav colors are: Yellow and red! Height is 5'4!

Thats it<3

Eventide

I match you with Tengen Uzui! And his wives!

•You’ve gotta be like, so flamboyant because you’re basically his now 😭

•And his wives love you! Makio specially adores your hair color because like her, it isn’t all one color! She thinks it’s a lovely style

•Tengen is the type to just sling you over his shoulders when he sees you and just haul you alongside him

•Suma loves to stare at your eyes, and she does so shamelessly as well since she doesn’t see anything wrong with blatantly showing you how much she adores hoe pretty they look in the sunlight!

•You have three amazing ladies and one smoking hot dude at your service! ;)

•Unfortunately for you, you’re going to have to deal with Suma’s sudden outburst of emotions and her crying, but she’s going to try her best to tone it down for your sake

•Except bottling it up is only going to worsen things so she’s probably gonna be cry more once she something causes her to crack

•One good way to get her to stop is by holding her and letting her sob into your clothes. Don’t mind the snot either

•I am fairly sure people didn’t cosplay back in the Taisho Era, but Tengen will provide you with the flashiest clothes to work with

•Makio’ll do her best not to accidentally rip your artwork while practicing her kunai throws, but i can’t guarantee that it won’t happen once or twice though

•She feels extremely guilty when she accidentally ruins them, and she’ll go out of her way to buy you new and expensive art supplies as an apology and she might even begrudgingly try and help fixing it

•Is it surprising if i mention they’re overprotective? Anyone throws one insult their way and their body will never be found

•But then they notice you being perfectly capable of handling yourself and they loosen up slightly. Slightly.

•Hinatsuru is the one who cooks best out of them, and she will stuff you with food everyday, she takes notes of which foods you like and which ones you don’t

•Tengen teases you about your height a lot, he’ll just use you as an armrest to further emphasize your height difference and sometimes take to just- throwing you in the air and catching you

•They adore it when you give them candies, sometimes they keep it for later so that they have something to snack on. The taste matters little to them because it taste good no matter what as you’re the one who’s given them the little treats

•It’s a good thing you like children..Tengen likes a big family…..

•But anyways if you guys have kids, whether biological or adoptive, those kids are gonna be the luckiest

•Seeing you comfort children and just having a grand time with them is so heartwarming for these four, Suma starts crying, Tengen is grinning and Makio is subtly blushing and Hinatsuru is just smiling contently

•Your love of potatoes remind Tengen of Kyojuro and he sometimes asks him for the best potato recipes to satisfy you because Kyojuro is a connoisseur of potatoes.

•Hinatsuru and you have a fun time coming up with recipes for your family, it’s a moment of domestic bliss for you both to bake together

•Suma and you both love cats and Tengen could not say no to getting one, not with the look you’re both giving him

•He’s such a simp- though his wives are too.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #nan’s eventide.#tengen uzui matchup #hinatsuru matchup #makio matchup #suma matchup

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nyxoholicwrites · 2 years

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hi nyx! uhm im new to this whole asks thing uh- asdjh anyway how would the LI's + onion ehe react to someone declaring their love for mc whos already taken and is slowly getting uncomfortable the more time the stranger takes on confessing to them

Hey there anon! Hope you are doing well and taking care of yourself :)

I hope I did your request justice! I wasn’t sure if you wanted headcanons or scenarios so I tried to mix the two

Translation to the strangers words are provided below the scenarios! For those curious the language is Croatian, also please note certain words are missing letters indicating an accent, my keyboard doesn’t have them

LI’s + oniontheif: Reaction to Mc’s discomfort with an unknown suitor’s declaration of love

TW: Pick me men and strangers invading Mc’s comfort zone. Also in Quest’s part, the stranger is displaying stalkerish behaviour if that's the proper term

NakedToaster

I feel like Toasty would at first be anxious about it like I can see them disliking confrontation with strangers, it is a very scary experience after all, but I feel like their patience is a bit thin when it comes to Mc being harassed.

Sometimes even glare and icy words are enough to scare someone.

Their tone would retain a certain calmness to it but you could feel the venom behind it. Enough is enough.

They would 100% be sarcastic, I can feel it in my soul.

There is also the fact that toasty is 6’4 and if a person that height is showing they are not fond of you isn’t a bit scary then I don’t know what is.

Also Resting Bitch Face

Toasty was never quite fond of leaving the comfort of their home, a place where they are safe from all judgement, where they could be their true selves. Lest we forget, inside their apartment their precious FFXIV was always within reach, a whole world of fantasy and adventure waiting to be explored.

However, ever since they met Mc the two of them would go on little walks in the park, basking in the light breeze with their bodies close to one another in search of warmth. Nothing could ever ruin such a tranquil moment, or so they thought. As the two lovers enjoyed the beautiful scenery before them, an unknown man approached the pair, while the stranger's eyes screamed with passion, they panicked and focused on the target ahead.

“ Ljubavi moja, kada sam te pogledao srce mi je stalo i jedino si mi ti u mislima”* He grabbed their hands and knelt to the floor, his hazel eyes staring into theirs as if searching for a glimpse of their soul.

The two lovers stared in confusion, not only had a stranger approached them out of the blue, but spoke in words unknown to either of them and grabbed his lover’s hands? Truly the worst combo ever…

Mc stiffened at the touch, they were always fond of the touches, except for the ones shared between them and Toasty but this? Never would they have wanted to be in this scenario. For as long as they have known one another, their bond had grown to the point that a simple glance at their horrified eyes, was more than enough for him to know that they wanted out of this situation.

“ S-Sir could you please let them go-” His calm and polite tone stood no chance against the passionate and booming voice of the suitor. “ Do forgive me, my angel! But seeing your beauty has truly strengthened my belief in God for something so perfect could only have been made with divine hands. Predivni ste!”**

The more moments passed the bolder the unknown man before they grew and so did Mc’s discomfort. Their polite rejections hadn’t been able to sway the enamoured man below them. Toasty never liked confrontation, preferring to settle things in a calm manner, exploding would only cause more of a scene than this man already is doing by himself. However, when it came to his beloved, there certainly was a limit to his patience.

“ Sir, I know it might surprise you but they are not interested. I do hope you have a lovely day but I would prefer it if it was spent somewhere away from us.” the sarcasm dripped from their words, although they remained polite, even a child could sense the disdain behind said words. Gently they grabbed Mc’s hand, interlocking their fingers as they took long strides away from the now shaken suitor. Sometimes even words can be enough to scare off a pest.

Translations:

*“ My love, when I gazed upon you my heart stopped and only you were in my thoughts.”

** “ You are beautiful” I chose to stick with the formal tone since words in Croatian words are gendered and I am aiming to use a more gender-neutral tone, plus the language itself is very polite so it fits

Nightowl

Here is the opposite end of the spectrum, nightowl definitely wouldn’t hesitate to be bold and all politeness is thrown out the window

As we all know he is the LI who is the most affectionate and has a preference for PDA so his touches would be bolder with no subtlety whatsoever

He isn’t above mocking the stranger, “Oh you don’t have an amazing partner yet? I’m sure you will find someone soon, but how soon will depend on how soon you can fix your attitude.”

I don’t see him threatening to do something to the person, but he would just make it known they were taken, even the most oblivious person could tell they are together

Would he hesitate to fight the stranger if they were crossing every boundary of human decency? Absolutely not, he may not be as tall as the others but kneecaps are always an option. ( I’m just gonna say that where I’m from 5’7 is considered short, so if in the future you see me mention him being short I'm sorry ^^’)

It was a peaceful evening, the sun was slowly setting, decorating the sky with the warmest hues, and two lovebirds slowly walked along the wooden pier. Whenever the local carnival would be in business, nightowl would take mc on a date, they had done this so many times that it had practically become a tradition. Within the hordes of people and sugary snacks, they had won prizes and played every game known to mankind. At the beginning of their relationship they stuck to winning massive teddy bears for one another, however, eventually, their shared apartment had become hoarded with gigantic piles of fluff so now each year they settled for smaller prizes.

As the two lazily walked hand in hand towards the end of the pier, they began to ramble about the latest events within their busy lives, nightowl spoke of his many aspirations and projects planned while Mc talked of the daily drama between their wild coworkers. Their giggles filled the air as they gazed at the water ahead of them. As nightowl glanced away from the site ahead of him, his eyes focused on the one beside him, for it was lovelier than the former. “ You know cutie, you practically look divine with the way the sun is shining on your skin, I should take a picture so I can prove that angels do exist.” After stating the flowery words, he placed a kiss upon their hand as their cheeks became adorned with a crimson flush. “Y-you are too much sometimes.” They stated averting their gaze from him to the pine planks, he truly never hesitated with his compliments. “But it’s true I was always taught to say the truth, maybe I can convince-” Before the blonde could finish his words a mysterious ( or maybe even delirious) man approached the two with haste in his steps. Before they could register who this stranger was or guess his means, he knelt beside Mc with hearts in his eyes. As they were about to speak the lunatic beat them to it, “ Andele moj! Dali je Bog poslao u moj jedini zivot, dali si ti ono sto trazim sve ove godine?” If life were a cartoon their faces would have a giant question mark plastered beside them, what had this stranger meant? “ I’m sorry sir but I don’t speak that language.”

His eyes widened in shock upon realisation, “ Oh I’m terribly sorry! I couldn’t help but revert to my mother tongue upon seeing such a lovely sight,” to say that nightowl was beginning to be displeased would be the understatement of the century, “ I said, my angel! Did God send you into my pitiful life, are you the thing I have been searching for all these years?” Mc’s eyes widened in horror. “ I beg your pardon?” their statement held disbelief, what man says such things to a person he just met? Not a normal one for sure. As nightowl was about to grab their hand, the stranger grabbed both of them with a gentle yet desperate touch. “ Oh please grant me a chance to show you who I truly am! I am not like other men, I will treat you better than royalty!” Before the man could utter another word, nightowl gently held their face, moving it to face his gaze.

“ Babe, love of my life, my gorgeous angel, is this idiot bothering you?” His statement was accompanied by a gentle peck on their cheek. “ Let’s get away, shall we? We have better things to do.” Oh, the smug smirk he wore on his face couldn’t match the shock of the suitor in front of him. “ Konju jedan!* Who are you calling an idiot?!”

“ Oh, I’m terribly sorry I thought it was obvious. It’s you. Now then let’s go cutie I saw this pretzel stand we haven’t tried!” Their earlier discomfort was replaced with a grateful smile as they took their beloved arm and walked away from the gaping fool behind them. They placed a kiss on his cheek in return for the one they received moments ago, “ Thank you, love, you don’t know how grateful I am.” Oh if only they realised they realised the opening they just left for him, he chuckled lightly as he spoke, “I think I might need physical proof of this gratefulness.” Their eyes widened as realisation hit them.

“Nightowl I can't with you…”

“ Hehe, you know you love me.”

Translations:

*If I were to translate it literally it would mean basically “ You Horse!” It doesn’t make sense in translation but I can assure you calling someone that in Croatian won’t make them very happy, no hidden meaning behind it, it is just insulting

Onionthief

He is sort of like a mix between nightowl and NakedToaster, I can see him holding his loved one by the waist which would immediately signal they were taken, but he wouldn't go bolder than that.

He would definitely give a small glare to the stranger and “kindly” say that Mc is taken and they should kindly back off

“ I think it's in your best interest to leave my partner alone, in case you haven’t been taught this but when someone is uncomfortable you leave that person alone.”

He would sort of turn into what can be best described as a mom scolding her child about their behaviour, he would list everything wrong with their behaviour and lecture the stranger on how a human being should act with strangers.

He would then just scoff and sort of dismissing the person, which they naturally comply with because they have no desire to listen to onion thiefs lectures

Resting bitch face 2.0

It had been the couple's rare day off in their busy schedules, finally a time where their only focus was on each other. The two had roamed the city, chatting about anything and everything, sometimes they debated on a topic for nearly the entire walk or switched between topics faster than Two2 signing off upon hearing his mother’s call. Onionthief was never one to, as one would say, ‘half ass’ something, and their dates were no exception. He had planned every corner they had previously turned, and all those shops they visited on a ‘whim’ filled his search history, but they didn’t need to know that.

“ Dear, could you wait here for a second? I have to just buy something for the apartment.”

They chuckled softly, “ In a flower shop? What could you possibly buy there for our apartment?” Damn it, how could he mess up something so simple? Nonetheless, he just needs to cover his tracks somehow…

“ I have no need to explain myself, I am a grown man who is more than responsible.” Oh if only he could see how adorable he was being, he truly tried his best not to appear a softie, let’s say no matter how hard he tried they could easily tell his intentions. Onionthief was honest to a fault, but that’s what they liked about him. “ You are getting flowers aren’t you?” There goes the perfect plan, all of that planning went to waste, he had been found out by his other half. “...No.”

They couldn’t deny that it took them all their strength to stop the giggles spilling from their mouth, they were failing miserably as the hand covering their mouth constantly shook along with a smile that reached their eyes. Neither of them was successful in their missions, but that’s the beauty of a relationship, showing their love for one another through tiny actions.

Before their teasing could begin, he was quick to interrupt them, “ Please stay here I will be back shortly.” He finally let go of their hand but not before giving it a quick reassuring squeeze as he headed into the floral paradise in search of the perfect bouquet. Naturally, he already had a bouquet in mind, one decorated with white and crimson carnations, for each one held a special meaning behind them, he always did prefer to show his love in subtle ways, not one for grandiose displays of affection.

As they watched him walk away, they couldn’t help but sigh, a delicate smile decorated their face, a stranger on the street could tell that their face screamed with fondness, but that didn’t seem to impact a certain stranger. As he noticed their beauty from across the street, he waited for the crosswalk sign to signal green, practically running in their direction, but not without bumping into countless strangers on the way. Maybe the saying love is blind can be taken into a literal sense. As their gaze shifted away from their phone, their body tensed as they saw the rushing stranger, a flight or fight response hit them, and rather than flee they chose to wait and see what he could possibly want. With a hopeful gleam in his eyes, the suitor approached them without hesitation, mentally he prepared every compliment known to man, and finally, he spoke, “ Izvini, ali necu si ikad oprostiti ako vam ne kazem da ste predvini, kao da vas je bozica Afrodita blagoslovila.”* All went according to plan, he would pretend to be a romantic foreigner and they would be charmed, after all, who doesn’t love being pursued out of nowhere? Right?

“ Um… Sir, I hate to break it to you but I don’t speak that language.” They scratched the back of their neck in confusion, God this interaction couldn’t get any more awkward than this… “Oh, I’m so sorry! I was merely complimenting your beauty, it is as if Aphrodite blessed you, I can’t help but stare at you.” He spoke with such a flirtatious and enamoured tone, but said tone felt like nothing but knives stabbing into their stomach, where was onionthief when you needed him? As the awkward encounter continued outside of the confines of the flower shop, onionthief thanked the cashier as they handed him the bouquet with a bright smile “ Thank you! Please come again!”

With the carnations in hand, he stepped out of the store, however, the scene before him made him glare at the stranger pursuing his partner. Oh, he will not let this slide. As the stranger got closer to Mc, their eyes frantically looked around if someone, anyone could aid them, and thankfully help arrived in the form of a furious lover. With Mc within his grasp, he gently held them by the waist, while doing so he put himself before the, what he would consider, idiot who had been harassing the person he held dearest to his heart. “ Hello there sir, but I am going to kindly ask that you leave my partner alone, I don’t know what cave you crawled out of but in a normal human society, you don’t aim to make a stranger uncomfortable but rather you have to be polite unless your parents didn’t teach you this because I sure as hell will.”

His angry rambles had reached the suitor's ears, but as people say, in one ear out the other, he simply held a bored look as his eyes rolled behind his head. “Are you searching for a brain that you see the need to roll your eyes? I can tell you now without even having a look, you have none.” Mc’s discomfort soon disappeared as they chuckled at his retort, that was their love alright, brutally honest to a core. “I-You- I, Ugh! Shut up already! I’m just gonna leave! They are not worth dealing with you.” The stranger, cough, idiot, cough, left with a huff with no plans to come back. As they watched the stranger disappear into the crowd, they squeezed the hand holding their waist. They truly did love his honesty.

Translations:

* “ Sorry, but I won’t ever forgive myself if I don’t tell you how beautiful you are, as if the goddess Aphrodite blessed you.” I’m slowly realising how cheesy these lines are…

Quest

He is the only one I can see being the politest one, he would just separate the stranger from Mc and walk away

Sir/ Ma’am/ Mx I am kindly asking that you leave them alone, you are making them uncomfortable and I hope you are fully aware of how inappropriate your behaviour is.”

Listen much like how Toasty’s height makes them intimidating, imagine the stranger seeing beefy Quest like I have zero doubts that they wouldn’t want to see how Quest would react if they went any further so they just speed walk away.

The stranger isn’t worth their time nor attention so just ignoring them is the best way possible

Though, he would immediately ask Mc if they are okay and offer they go someplace else or get their comfort food

Personally, I don’t see any of these characters fighting someone immediately, they are grown adults, but they wouldn’t be nice to the stranger especially if they are making Mc uncomfortable, fighting someone is the absolute last straw especially for Quest

The crowd within the mall was bustling, constant chatter could be heard from every corner, as each person strolled around the shops looking to find their needs and wants. Our lovely couple joined the mass of people as they looked at what each store had to offer. It was one of their rare days off where they could enjoy each other’s company without the worries of their corporate jobs. With their arm wrapped around Quest’s, they spotted a giant book store, an idea popped into their head, they could recall his shelves being filled with various kinds of books, but what really stood out was the number of poems that filled the pages of each and every one of them. And so, with a plan in mind, they nudged him into the direction of the store, leaving him a bit confused but he had no complaints.

“ Is there something you need in the book store angel?” He offered them the same gentle smile they saw day in and day out, however, it never failed to make them weak at the knees. “Yep! Remember the girl I talked to you about, Adrianna? Yea she asked me to pick up the sequel of her favourite novel and as you know I can’t say no to her. Quest gave their hand a gentle squeeze, “ You are truly the kindest person I know, I will just wait here and browse some of the books here, you can go on without me.” Damn it, that was practically code for ‘I am going to go into the Poetry aisle.’ which spelled doom for their mission, but they wouldn’t give up so easily. With a slight nod, they broke away from his hold and went to search for a store clerk, perhaps if they asked them to bring them the book, he wouldn’t notice it was for him and therefore, the mission will be a success.

As they endlessly searched within the many isles of the store, steering clear of the forbidden isle as they would call it, they finally spotted a friendly employee putting away some novels onto the overflowing shelves. The romance aisle, huh, how ironic. And with that, they approached the employee with the friendliest smile they could muster and explained their situation to them, and so, ‘Lea’, if they read her name tag correctly, set off to look for the book ‘ Lost Within a Dream’. As they patiently awaited her arrival, they couldn’t help but browse for all of the romantic titles beside them. Covers filled with random models and drawings filled the shelves, all of them held unique stories to tell, however, a certain book with black roses decorating its spine caught their eye.

As they went to grab it to view the contents inside, it seemed as though a stranger had the very same goal in mind. With their hand briefly touching for a moment, Mc quickly retracted their hand from the man before them, “ I’m so sorry! Feel free to grab the book, I can grab the copy behind it.” The man turned around and with a glimpse of their features, it was love at first sight. Their meeting couldn’t be a coincidence, surely fate brought them together with their shared love of a romantic novel, or so he thought. “ No need to apologise, moja ruzo. All is forgiven! I will say I never expected to see such a beauty. Unfortunately, a man as ugly as myself never gets to hang out with such gorgeous people as you.”*

Oh no, God why did you have to give me a pick me guy to interact with?! “ Uh, thank you, I guess? Thanks for the compliment but I should probably go, I have to go somewhere-” and before they could speak another word he held their hands with his own, gazing adoringly at their beauty. “ Oh please don’t go yet! I believe fate brought us together, we were destined to be with each other ljubavi. Can’t you see that even God wants you to join my journey in life?”** They couldn’t utter a single word, they just stood there baffled as discomfort began to bloom in their body, not only was a stranger practically confessing to them, a stranger may I repeat, but also touching them without permission? It was time to shut this thing down. With a strong yank they freed their hands from the stranger's hold, “ Look sir we met a minute ago, I am not interested, have a nice day.” As they were leaving the romance aisle, to their dismay, they went towards the poetry aisle, to find Quest and leave the store immediately.

As they speed-walked through the store they took notice of the stranger being hot on their trail, shouting words of affection in not one but two languages, truly this couldn’t get any worse. Thankfully their journey was short-lived as they spotted their ravenette lover as he was immersed into the pages of one of his favourite titles. Quickly they ran towards him and held him tight as if this was the last day they would see him. “Angel, what’s the matter? Is everything okay?” The words spilled from their mouth as they quickly explained what happened just a moment beforehand, and with each word his brows furrowed in displeasure.

Soon the ‘third wheel’ located the couple as Quest stroked their back, and comforted them with a soft tone, although he calls them angel, he certainly forgot to mention how angelic he himself can be. “ Oh my love, I lost you for a moment and you already go into the arms of another, good men like me can never truly win.” As he spoke, Quest turned to face him, “ Sir, they just told me about your actions and I ask that you leave them alone, they are not a belonging, they are a person with thoughts and feelings. I think we can end this discussion, let’s get out of here angel.” The stranger stood there, baffled at the man that stood before him, safe to say he wasn’t going to go after them any time soon, especially not after a man built like a god.

“ Are you alright? Do you want to go somewhere else? We can go to that patisserie if you’d like?” They locked their arm in his and offered him a loving gaze, “ That would be great, my hero.”

Translation:

*my rose

** love

Xyx

As someone who is an avid xyx enjoyer, I can confirm this man is a little shit and a troll so naturally, he is ready to make fun of this stranger right here and right now

“Oh, you plan to confess to someone wearing that? Yikes.” “ How many people did this work on exactly? Zero? Yea I thought as much.”

He isn’t hesitating-

He will pull all the stops like that stranger will have doubts about his approach at the end of their interaction

He would definitely hold Mc’s hand as a way to comfort them assuring that he is here and they are safe

He knows he isn’t the best at comforting words but he will make an effort for Mc. They need to vent? Go ahead. Do they need a distraction? Let’s go for a drive and blast music like maniacs. Whatever his doll needs he will provide

The warm sun was setting along the Australian shore as Mc and Xyx strolled along the coast, and as always, their voices could be heard from a mile away. “Okay hear me out-” “Whenever you say that I always have a feeling you have either something up your sleeve or a counterargument and sometimes it's both” they chuckled at his dramatic gasp, he practically had the ability to make any soap opera actor jealous.

“ Me? Have something up my sleeve? I can’t believe my doll is accusing me, oh how cruel today’s people are.” He let out a fake sniffle as they lightly punched his shoulder, they always had fun with one another no matter the time, place, or situation, there was always some form of mischief from either of them.

Although usually they would have been accompanied by their trusted feline companion, Cat, they doubted that Cat would enjoy getting soaked let alone go cliff diving. Mc couldn’t deny that they weren’t a little terrified of cliff diving, jumping into the ocean from a tall height doesn’t exactly sound like everyone’s cup of tea, but after much encouragement and many demonstrations, which Xyx didn’t mind doing, they finally jumped. After that the two were unstoppable, adrenaline coursing through their veins after every jump, and after all of that climbing, diving, and swimming, both were ready to retire and go home to their fluffy child.

With towels wrapped around them, the jokes and teasing remarks continued, to them this was the perfect day and they couldn’t ask for more. As they continued on with their journey to a fantastical location called, the parking lot, a figure had slowly walked towards them, both assumed that the person had probably been going in the opposite direction of them, and so, they ignored them and resumed their restless chatter. However, as moments passed the stranger slowed down and it seemed as though he was approaching the couple, or more specifically Mc. “Do you maybe know him Xyx?” In response to their question he let out a simple shrug, “ There is a chance maybe he remembers and I don’t, although I highly doubt I have seen him anywhere.” Their confusion only increased as the man before them knelt to the ground with one knee, his coffee-like eyes staring into Mc’s as if they were the only being in this world, to which Xyx simply raised his brow, waiting to see the strange man’s response. “ Oh, beautiful soul! I stand here before you not as a man but as a lonely soul waiting for you to awaken it with yours, never have I seen someone so lovely.”

“ Sir, I’m sorry but you might have confused me with someone else. And plus I have a-” He quickly rose to his feet, shushing, the now silent Mc, never have they ever experienced someone so bold, or better said creepy, “ Don’t speak my love, just let-”

“ Let me guess what the next words are. Oh, don’t speak my love! Rather let your lips do the talking! Or no I have a better one, woe is me! No one wants me because I make people uncomfortable with everything I say and do because I lack any human decency.” Xyx grinned, oh he was only getting started. “ No, I don’t think that’s it, maybe it goes something like this. OH, WHAT TRAGEDY! I constantly complain to those around me about how everyone is so picky these days and how the olden days were so much better. Right?” The stranger’s face twisted in anger, however, that only made their love more confident. As the suitor's eyes were averted from theirs, Xyx gently took their hand in his, reassuring them, providing a silent message. You are safe. “ And who are you to speak to me like that?! I will have you know-”

“What? That you used the same old pickup line for years with no success and you haven’t self-reflected, yes I can already tell. Good luck to you though!” Xyx patted the man on the back in pity, hopefully, now he can change his ways, sometimes a little trial of truth is necessary for change. With their hands holding each other tight, they continued onwards to the car, as if nothing ever happened.

“ I know I’m not very good at comforting words but, how about this my offer is that you can vent about what an absolute idiot that man was and in return, I offer that we cuddle on the couch with Cat. How does that sound?”

“Perfect, but not as perfect as you.” He sighed, “ You do realise that was awfully cheesy right?” “Yep, and I have no regrets.” Their statement sealed with a kiss on the cheek, leaving a tiny flush on his skin.

AN: I cannot for the love of god write super short scenarios, I just have so much to say and I don’t feel satisfied till it's perfect and eventually small headcanons and ‘short scenarios’ become over 5k long. Whelp! I am hoping that at least yall are benefitting from my perfectionism ^^’

Hope you enjoyed!

#bp nakedtoaster #blooming panic #bloomic #bp nightowl #bp xyx #bp onionthief #x reader #bp quest #anon request

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obeiii-mee · 3 years

Note

Can I angst for Mammon where he is in a really bad mood and his brothers are at it again calling him names. And already ask them kindly to leave him alone but they keep at it. And Levi says something and it's the last straw. The air around them get cold for a moment as he slowly looks up and he flat out threatens them to shut up before he puts them back into there place with a really dark and threatening voice, before leaving. And the look could rival Satan's or even Lucifers glare.

I think Mammon takes the abuse of his brothers but sometimes he isn't in the mood and want a little peace and it is very very rare for him to get pissed

Like he's the kind of person who would yell when he's upset but when he's down right pissed it's like really fucking scary

People forget that as much as he lets his brothers push him around he is still the second oldest and is powerful so 😬

Brothers+ undateables reaction

Mammon snaps:

___________________

This is something I’ve mentioned in previous posts, but I basically second everything you said. I believe that Mammon dislikes getting into confrontations but isn’t by any means weak or stupid. He is the second eldest. However he is also, arguably, the one with the most self control out of them all. He has an overwhelming amount of patience when it comes to his siblings and I like to think he puts up with all of their insults because he loves them. Then again, it’s very possible for him to go berserk after years worth of build up.

Thanks for the request!!! I had a bit of trouble at first because I didn’t know how I was going to format it but I like the way it turned out so I hope you do too. Uhh also I reached my word limit writing this so I couldn’t include Simon, Luke and Solomon. I do plan on writing for them as well but at this point I’m just trying to get this done. Let me know if I made any grammatical errors! I double check my writing all the time but sometimes mistakes got over my head! The undateables are short because honestly I view the brothers as the ones who will suffer the most out of everyone. I hope you enjoy reading it anyway!!

•Characters: Lucifer, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphagour, Diavolo, Barbatos.

⚠️Warnings: Cursing, mentions of blood & gore and that’s about it.

___________________

For the past few months, Lord Diavolo’s pleasure of hosting parties and inviting people over had become more and more noticeable. It was pretty obvious that the Prince was lonely, isolating himself from others due to the responsibilities he has as the heir to the throne and a leader in the making. Attending his gatherings seemed like a down right chore for most of the brothers but you never had any problem tagging along. Besides, it felt nice knowing he seemed you worthy of coming to such important meetings. Your seven demons were, of course, also invited and per Lucifer’s orders, they all got cleaned up and dressed in fancy clothing to impress the regals prancing about the castle. Though the outfits themselves came with their own set of problems. Levi’s was way too tight; the collar seemed to annoy him more than anything else, judging by the patches of red skin on his neck. Satan accidentally ripped one of the buttons from his jacket off in a fit of rage earlier that day and was now silently fuming while poking his finger through the hole he made. Even Asmo spilled some water on his shirt before they arrived, ruining his pretty pink suit! Not to mention Beel was munching on his tie, having last eaten about 15 minutes beforehand. Lucifer pulled it out of his mouth and scowled at the saliva stains that were left behind. Safe to say they were all in a miserable mood to begin with.

“I expect all of you to behave in a respectable manner,” Lucifer flicked Belphie on the back of the head just as he began dozing off, making the youngest growl at him. He shot Mammon an irritated look “I’m especially talking to you Mammon. Don’t try to steal anything or I’ll cut your hands off.”

“I told ya big bro, ya don’t have to worry about me! I’ll be a golden child today! Promise!” Mammon held up his pinky as if he was committing to some kind of oath. The eldest darkened his glare and opened his mouth to say something else, but you interrupted in hopes of avoiding any bickering that might’ve followed.

“Look, there’s our table! Let’s go sit down. Lord Diavolo’s speech is going to start any minute now.”

Beel leaped at the table as soon as he sniffed out the appetisers, which were neatly arranged on the expensive tablecloth, shoving at least half of them in his mouth by the time the rest of you caught up with him. Having been seated, you quickly glanced around the room in hopes of spotting Diavolo. You bumped into Solomon and the angels before entering the castle, chit chatting with them for a while about the event. Even now, Luke was excitedly waving at you from across the room, using both of his arms. However, Lord Diavolo and Barbatos were the ones in charge of this party and you were yet to see either of them.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Mammon eyeing the golden utensils laid out in front of him. Not the biggest of surprises really. Anytime Mammon sees something along the lines of gold, he can’t help but snatch it away. And there’s obviously so many valuables scattered all over the place, including the silverware that was proudly presented on every table. You sucked in a breath of anticipation when he reached for one of the spoons, only to exhale in relief when he placed it on the bridge of his nose, trying to balance it.

“MC, look at this!” He tapped your shoulder, as always wanting your full and undivided attention as he demonstrated his newfound skill. You giggled at his antics with fondness as he accidentally let the spoon drop with a clatter and a quiet ‘shit’ coming from him. Lucifer pulled on his ear, like a mother scolding her child and whisper-yelled at him to stop acting like an idiot. The only reason the oldest chose a sit right next to Mammon was to maintain order and peace. Basically, he did it for disciplinary reasons.

“I understand that being impertinent is your full-time job, Mammon but keep this up and I’ll throw you in Cerberus’ room. Let him do with you as he pleases.”

“Lucifer, it’s not a big deal-“

“Yeah, OK,” Mammon hissed, picking up the spoon from the recently polished floor with a slight grin that didn’t quiet reach his eyes “I gotcha. Can-“

“Speaking of Cerberus,” Levi suddenly piped in, no longer fussing about his collar or nervously twiddling with his thumbs because of the massive crowd of demons surrounding him “Didn’t you force me to walk him last week when it was your turn to do it?? I only agreed because you promised to buy me the newest Ruri-Chan limited edition body pillow that came out last Tuesday! And you never did! And now they’re out of stock, you scummy piece of-“

The third eldest would’ve leapt across the table and aimed for the throat if you hadn’t pressed a gentle hand against his chest, making him sit back down with a huff. People were starting to stare at the commotion coming from your table, turning heads and muttering between themselves. You were slowly dying from embarrassment by the way, since you guys definitely became the topic of conversation for the other guests. The brothers were being too noisy to even notice and Lucifer himself was too preoccupied to see the scene they were creating which made you further slouch down into your chair, silently hoping for the ground to swallow you whole. The night really wasn’t going as intended. You could hear Solomon laughing at the brothers’ antics from three tables down.

“I guess that’s Mammon for you,” Belphie yawned, barely raising his head from table “He lies everyday, all day. What exactly is new here? And that says something since it’s coming from me.”

“I apologised for that!” Mammon whined, referring to Levi’s accusation and choosing not to address Belphie’s insult “I was gonna buy it but then I realised I spent all my money earlier that week anyway so I couldn’t!”

“Perhaps that wouldn’t happen if you learned how to save the money you earn properly,” Satan muttered, sipping from his glass of whatever beverage he had snatched from the servants earlier “Not like you know how to earn money in any way besides stealing it.”

You watch as Mammon clenched his fist “Can we please just move on-“

“I can’t believe that I was cursed with this moron for a brother,” Asmo sighed, almost theatrically, as if he was performing. And, in a way, he was. People were getting really interested in the drama unfolding over there. It was making you even more anxious, all those eyes staring at you. The Avatar of Lust was leaning so much on his chair, you were sure he was going to topple over and at this point, you kinda hoped he would. Anything to stop this momentum of hatred aimed at Mammon “You’re always getting us in trouble, you know. Hmph, we can’t go anywhere with you Mammon! You always end up ruining it for us! With your stupid schemes and-“

“I’m hungry-“

“Not now, Beel!”

“Cutting him up into tiny pieces for the witches will always be an option,” Lucifer chimed in, smiling at the thought.

Mammon snapped his head upwards at that. It was such an abrupt reaction, it made you jolt a little in your seat. You couldn’t miss the tension radiating from him, how quickly his body stiffened and exactly how hard his hands were gripping the edge of the table. His brothers were still paying him no mind, blaming him for this and that under their breath or being silently judgemental in Lucifer’s case. You worried for him because Mammon rarely acted like this; feral, in a way. Just so you know, he definitely noticed it. The look of concern plastered all over your face. That’s the only reason he released the table from his vice-like grip and slouched back against his chair. Satan went quiet and was staring at Mammon in bewilderment.

He disliked the idea of you watching him lose control of himself. He was your guardian. Your first pact. It’s important to him that your relationship is build around a pillar of trust. And he can’t even expect you to trust him if he exposes you to his demon form every time something inconveniences him. Mammon would rather cease to exit than have you fear him. So he kept his breathing regulated as the fog cleared his mind. The Avatar of Greed isn’t an angry demon. Snuffing out the the flame of rage he had fanned up until then was relatively easy. He just needed to get through tonight, then he could go home and complain to you about it once he got out of his brothers’ earshot.

“Why does he get to spend so much time with MC anyway? He’d probably sell them for a few Grimm any time of the day, wouldn’t he? It’s so fucking unfair. He won’t change no matter what so why risk MC’s safety? I will summon Lotan on him if he starts getting on my nerves.”

It would be an understatement to say that those words rubbed Mammon the wrong way, judging by the lack of immediate response. It was unexpected for him keep his mouth shut at a time like this. What was even more unexpected was the abrupt, delayed reaction he had a few seconds afterwards, resulting in his chair being flung back about 5 feet in that general direction. The seemingly deafening thud it made when it collided with the floor echoed around the dining hall, bouncing off walls and whacking people over the heads with the aggression behind it. A moment of pure, indescribably loud silence filled the crowded space as everyone else stared in shock at their brother, mouths agape and eyes bulging out of their sockets. Mammon would’ve laughed at their faces if it weren’t for the circumstances leading up to that point.

“What gives any of you the right to treat me like some sort of punching bag?” Mammon drawled, accentuating his obviously superior nature to almost every single demon at that table. He laughed, in an oddly half hearted way, before his sea struck gaze landed back to his siblings “Do not try to push me into a corner, because I will not handle it well. You’ve been having a field day with me for centuries now and I’m starting to get really ticked off, ya know? But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’ve done everything in my power to keep MC alive for the past few months and y’all are acting as if I’m out here playing with their life. Complain about me all you want. But...” He thumped the table, loud enough to make all the noblemen in the room flinch.

“Don’t you dare insinuate that I would ever put MC in danger, willingly or not because I will rip out your insides and paint the walls of this palace with them while hanging your intestines from these chandeliers. I will pluck your hairs out one by one, then your nails, then your eyeballs and then your teeth. You’re the ones that have put MC in danger’s way time and time again in the past few weeks, and you’re out here trying to suggest that I would even think about hurting them? Unlike every single one of you, who almost killed my human-you’re lucky I don’t have your fucking heads.”

He smashed his fist into the table again, using even more of his strength this time and effectively breaking the whole thing, the wooden legs giving out and shattering into thousands of splinters. Mammon spoke again, his voice lowering “MC forgave you. I didn’t. And I have no reason to. Not with how you’ve been treating me.”Once he spit that out, Mammon turned on his heel and left, slamming the door shut behind him hard enough to shake the whole building, leaving his siblings in dazed awe.

......

Even more silence. For some reason, all of the brothers at the now broken table ended up looking your way, silently questioning what they should do. It often ended up like this

You gave them all an unimpressed stare and a half-assed shrug “Don’t look at me. You guys fucked up.” Before sliding out of your seat and following Mammon out of the castle, sending an apologetic smile to Diavolo on your way out. Hopefully, you could manage to calm him down before everyone else gets home otherwise this might drag on for a while.

Lucifer:

-In all honesty, he probably saw the signs from a mile away and still decided to ignore them

-Maybe because he believed they weren’t being all that harsh on him, even if in Mammon’s eyes they were

-‘Harsh’ in Lucifer’s vocabulary usually means being hanged upside down from a ceiling or publicly executed, not a couple of mere insults

-Not to mention the eldest had always been horrible at communicating with his brothers when it came to emotions

-Despite Mammon clearly suffering from the treatment he received from his brothers, Lucifer refuses to believe he’s the root of the problem

-As the Avatar of Pride, he always had a hard time realising that all those words and the constant teasing, which he deemed to be pretty harmless, scarred Mammon a lot more than expected

-Once he actually comes to that conclusion, and after getting over the initial shock, Lucifer would probably feel the guiltiest out of them all

-Being the eldest means he carries quite a few burdens on his shoulders as most responsibilities fall on him due to his prideful nature

-He would blame himself for Mammon’s outburst simply because he’s the older brother and he should’ve known better, not just because he sees how a big of a role he played in all of this

-Usually, if his brothers do something bad, then he’s there to fix it within hours, that’s how it always worked

-Except he doesn’t know how to fix this exactly

-The problem is he has no idea how to approach Mammon after that sudden meltdown and he has no idea how to talk it out with him because he sucks at expressing himself verbally

-And since this took place in a public space, Lord Diavolo’s Palace no less, he felt really conflicted on what should have been done at that moment in time

-There was a lot of frustration, embarrassment and confusion in him for a good five minutes after Mammon slammed that door shut behind him and even after he gathered his thoughts together, he was still in shock for the rest of the night

-In any case, the whole event was promptly cancelled and everyone ended up going home earlier than expected, after Lucifer apologised to Diavolo about the spectacle they created (several times)

-When they finally get home, he decided to give Mammon his space instead of trying to knock at his door and instead went back to his room

-He knows they will need to solve this matter soon but there’s no way Mammon will want to see, let alone talk, to any of them just yet

-He’s sort of hoping he can apologise best he can next morning at breakfast, cross his fingers and wish for the best but judging by the venom that laced Mammon’s voice the night before, it’s not likely he will forgive any of them that easily.

Levi:

-If I were to guess, he saw the ending credits of his life flash before his very eyes as soon as those words left his mouth

-Levi felt a panic in him like never before, not even while playing his engaging horror visual novels at 3am in complete darkness or that one time he used Lucifer’s credit card to buy merch before being found out

-Must’ve forgotten his brother technically ranks higher than him on the power scale for a second there

-Or maybe he didn’t think his insults were going to affect him much

-They usually don’t

-Or at least that’s the impression he’s been under for a while now

-Mammon doesn’t snap easily under pressure but Levi must’ve really hit a nerve there that night

-While everyone was sitting in a short silence after Mammon left the building, he started twiddling with his fingers again the more he thought about it

-Because now he went from nervous to fucking terrified of what the hell was waiting for him when he finally got home

-He does feel guilty, nowhere near as much guilt as Lucifer feels but still pure shame

-However most of that guilt is swallowed by a steady fear and the constant worry of ‘how do I stop my brother from killing me?’

-Unlike Lucifer, I honestly don’t see him taking any sort of initiative when it comes to apologising to Mammon

-Not even because he doesn’t want to, but he would freeze up if he were to come face to face with him after that incident and then scamper back to his room like a rat in hiding

-So without your help, it’s likely the two won’t be speaking to each very soon which can honestly make life at the House of Lamentation so much more miserable

-In the end, if either you or Lucifer forced him to, he would say sorry by selling some of his merch and then giving him the profits (in secret but we all know it’s him)

-That is a big sacrifice on Levi’s part considering how precious his merchandise is to him

-But the idea that he’s gonna get murdered in his sleep by his older brother was getting a tad too real

-Besides, Mammon is still his brother and if he has to sell a couple of items in order to make him less mad, he would do it, albeit with a bit of grumbling

-Despite that, Mammon still refuses to come out of his room and sort of relies on you to bring him food because he doesn’t want to see his brothers

-Levi and Mammon would probably have to rebuild a lot of their relationship after this but it could easily take months for that to happen since Levi is too terrified to look him in the eye and Mammon is too upset to even hear his voice

Satan:

-He wouldn’t be the Avatar of Wrath if he couldn’t spot the anger within someone from a mile away

-He’s always been able to recognise the fury building up inside of him so for Satan it’s second nature to just know when someone’s on the brink of snapping

-It’s no surprise to say that he probably noticed Mammon’s wrath spilling out before anyone else did

-But alas, he realised it too late

-If he had reacted quicker, maybe he would’ve been able to diffuse Mammon before he exploded on them. Or not

-It’s difficult to tell if he could’ve actually helped because who was he to tell Mammon to calm down??? If anyone told him that while he was throwing a fit, he would probably break their necks-

-In the end, he just pressed his lips into a straight line and watched his brother throw his chair across the room

-Not gonna lie, he found it a bit entertaining purely because of the look on Lucifer’s face

-Satan had to try really hard not to crack a smile because he knew Mammon would probably smash a glass against his head or something

-Even so, he was the first to stand up and offer to go after him, though he wasn’t sure he could do much consoling

-Being so experienced with anger meant that he knew Mammon had built himself into a rage that he won’t be able to escape out of too easily

-Which is why he advises Lucifer to give Mammon his space once they get home

-Overall, the most understanding out of all of the brothers

-At this point in time, probably the least judgemental out of everyone and once Mammon comes out of his room for the first time in a while, either him or Beel is going to apologise to him first

-He may push and push him alongside the rest of his siblings but I feel like Satan doesn’t want to reach a certain low, like cornering Mammon into the frenzy he had that day ever again

-He might get pissy with him if he’s being too stubborn to forgive anyone after coming down from his intrusive thoughts

-And he really hates that Mammon had to remind them about all the times you had nearly died because of them, because he knows they won’t be able to make it up to you so why is Mammon upset about this????

-But he will try to maintain respect for his older brother from then on

-Even if the sharpest of remarks is on the top of his tongue!

Asmo:

-Asmo is the type to laugh it off and then start feeling really upset about it later on, the longer he thinks about the whole thing

-After Mammon storms out, he just assumes it’s another one of those ‘Mammon’ things and tried to brush the feeling of unease off him

-Even so, later that night the memory of Mammon kept coming back to him while he laid in his bed, unable to have a nice rest for the first time in how long? He’s always been really strict about his sleeping schedules after all

-Asmo’s observant, almost on par with Satan himself when it comes down to it. He definitely saw the gleam of anger, pent up frustration and hatred in his brothers’ eyes that moment and it legitimately scared him, even if it was for just half a second

-Honestly, he begins neglecting himself out of anticipation and worry which is a huge red flag for the Avatar of Lust who always holds himself at such a superior level compared to everyone else

-It may start out slow, but it has the same effect as a snowball rolling down the hill. It becomes more of a problem the longer it’s ignored

-Because he spends most of his days now debating whether he should try to coax his brother into coming out of his room and apologising to him, he forgets about himself

-Skincare routines are missed, pedicure appointments have been cancelled; hell, if Mammon’s keeps being stubborn, he may let his hair become absolutely filthy

-Asmo sort of relies on his brothers to provide the living environment he revolves around. If something is off with his brothers, he can not work properly either because it doesn’t feel right to do so

-Imagine a machine not working anymore because one of the clogs in it got stuck

-I can see Asmo feeling a decent amount of guilt when it comes to the situation but he still blames Levi for completely pushing him over the edge at dinner

-So now those two aren’t talking (it’s honestly so exhausting since they’re shoving the blame onto each other without stop)

-If Mammon decides to come out and hear them out, Asmo might get on his knees and beg because that guilt bubbling up inside of him may end up being his demise

-No seriously, MC might need to keep an eye out on him too while comforting Mammon because whatever he is doing isn’t healthy

-Takes Mammon’s outburst pretty badly and tries apologising to him many times but the second eldest still hasn’t said a word to any of them

-And that’s driving him into a fucking swirl of insanity at this point

-Of course, much like Mammon’s mental breakdown, this builds up over time but the result can be devasting

-If you pass by his room at night, you could probably hear him sob about how his brother hates him and it’s really heartbreaking to hear pained cries like that coming from such an overly confident demon like Asmo

Beel:

-Literally the only one here that doesn’t dish out insults onto Mammon every hour of the day

-He joins in very rarely and even when he does, it’s usually in good nature rather than malice

-Unless food is involved. Feelings (and Mammon) might be hurt if that’s the case

-Beel wasn’t listening to his siblings as they were diminishing Mammon, he was way too hungry to comprehend what the hell they were on about

-So he just started wolfing down appetisers until he noticed you looking all weary

-That’s the first thing that put him on alert

-And then the second born’s aura was also...off putting

-Might’ve actually tried to nudge Belphie to stop him from saying anything offensive to Mammon in this state when he realised how tense the atmosphere got

-Flinched when his brother left the palace, almost cracking the whole doorway on his way out

-Hunger is all but gone and at this point he wants to go home to check up on him

-Beel is a bit of a softie and he wears his heart on his sleeve a lot of the times

-He never did anything particularly bad to Mammon, not on the same scale his brothers did certainly and yet he still felt extremely bad

-Perhaps because he didn’t step in as much as he should’ve...?

-Either way, when his loved ones suffer, he has a tendency of putting the blame on himself because he feels it’s the only logical answer

-Honestly, he feels guilty enough to the point where it’s affecting his eating habits-which is obviously not normal for the Avatar of Gluttony

-Beel knows Mammon doesn’t want to talk to him but he still brings him food and leaves it at the doorstep of his room since he doesn’t want to come out and have dinner with them

-Or he relies on you to give it to him

-The thought of Mammon being so mad at them that he doesn’t even want to eat makes him feel so vulnerable

-As soon as he sees him for the first time since that night, he will probably be the first to apologise, even if Mammon isn’t in the mood to hear apologies

-Again, he’s trying to use food to make up to him (bringing him his favourites and paying for them)

-Even if he gets ignored, he’s still going to do it

-Beel is trying his best to say sorry to his older brother the only way he knows how to do so, but Mammon still doesn’t give in

Belphie:

-Could’ve been asleep the whole time Mammon was thrashing about

-Or at least that’s what it looked like to the average passer-by

-Kept one eye open to watch as Mammon finally snapped under pressure, having to raise his head once his brother broke the whole god damned table

-“OK, alright, storm off I guess-I have a splinter now-“

-Don’t trust that sarcastic commentary, he’s in deep thought on the inside

-Maybe he should’ve expected this but then again, he never would’ve guessed Mammon had it in him to be so aggressive

-Will narrow his eyes at him when he talks your death and scowl

-As if he didn’t already feel like the world’s biggest piece of shit, he had to bring that up

-As soon as he leaves, he turns to Lucifer and goes “See what you did? You broke Mammon. You suck, Lucifer.”

-The shifting of blame suits Belphie really well (it takes Beel side glancing him to get him to shut up)

-The Avatar of Sloth is too tired to even try to communicate with his brother so he goes straight to bed after getting home

-However, he actually visits Mammon’s dreams that night

-Or at least tries to, if Mammon is getting any sleep after that showdown

-It’s his way of checking in with his brother, helps him evaluate the situation

- Whether that works or not, there was definitely an attempt that required a lot of effort and you don’t see that very often with Belphagour

-It really demonstrates how much he actually cares for his family, even if he hides behind snide remarks and the likes of it

-However, if Mammon refuses communication, then he can’t do anything but give up

-He clearly won’t be able to convince him to step aside for a chit chat and why waste energy trying to force him to do so

-When the time comes, Belphie knows his brother will willingly talk to him (or at least someone else because he knows he’s not any good at comfort or apologies)

-At the same time, a lot of the things Mammon said during that party rubbed him the wrong way and seeing his twin suffer because of it is also pissing him off so patience may be running thin with Belphie

-Like Levi, there may be a lot of ice between the two from then onwards so it won’t be easy for them to find the middle ground in this whole argument either

-It could lead to a strained relationship if no one intervenes or even a physical fight if the youngest pushes all of Mammon’s buttons properly

Diavolo:

-The Future King feels guilty too, for some reason

-He is clearly not involved but he’s under the impression his party was a catalyst of sorts to the fight that broke out that night

-Diavolo wasn’t even in the same room when it happened-he heard shouting and growling from next door whilst talking to a noble about future arrangements in DevilDom and rushed in

-The sight was something to behold really; Mammon cornering all of his brothers and threatening them with pure venom in his voice wasn’t something you saw everyday

-More often than not, it was the other way around so the Prince had every right to be concerned

-He tried asking Lucifer what was going on after the second eldest slammed the door shut behind him and left but to no avail; the Avatar of Pride was in a state of shock and the only thing he did was apologise to him about a million times before his departure with the rest of his siblings

-Despite his worry, Diavolo tried not to get involved in the aftermath either, believing it’s not his place to interfere and hoping they would solve it out amongst themselves

-He did give Mammon permission to miss RAD classes for that week, thinking a small break is what he needed most

-Even drops by every now and then to check up on him (he just asks you how he’s holding up because he doesn’t want to pry)

-He can’t do much but watch from the sidelines, I mean this is a family dispute so it would be wise to just give them all a bit of space

-If it drags on for too long, however, he will be forced to do something because the brothers are all distracted and can’t get on with their student council work because of it

-Lucifer is even more stressed than usual and can’t even focus during their meetings so for the sake of his friend, if nothing gets resolved quickly, he will intervene and it won’t be pretty

-For now, he’s counting on you to make sure there are no further incidents but it’s unlikely you can stop a train once it’s set in motion so just hope Mammon doesn’t come out of his room until he’s calmed down

Barbatos:

-The butler is a Time Lord so it’s probably no surprise to find out he already knew this was going to happen eventually

-Not like he believed Mammon was going to take his brothers’ insults for much longer anyway

-Being the quiet and observant demon he is, he’s been keeping a close eye on the Avatar of Greed knowing damn well he was going to lose his patience soon enough and go on the offence

-If he knew this was going to happen at such an important moment in time, he would’ve warned his majesty beforehand but he failed to see the potential catastrophe awaiting his breakdown

-Again, he has no right to intervene

-Unless, of course, Lord Diavolo asks him to do so but really the most he can do is give you tips on how to deal with miserable demons

-I mean, you’re the one that’s going to be stuck with them for the rest of the year and this isn’t the type of conflict that gets resolved too easily

-Barbatos is clever so if there is still bitterness between Mammon and his siblings after an amount of time passed, he might try to change timelines (with the permission of Diavolo)

-He’s had enough of Beel coming over to eat his cakes and cry about his older brother hating him (believe it or not, the butler is definitely a bit fond of the sixth eldest so his cries did pull at his heartstrings)

-Basically, in the same position as the Prince

-He relies on you to get them all to make up but he knows it’s not likely to happen any time soon

-For now, he’s getting ready for the chain reaction this fight set in motion because there was no easy way to end this, considering they’re all vicious demons and all

—————————————————————-

Al~ im mad I couldn’t add Simon, Luke and Solomon-I want to write for them too >:(

1K notes · View notes

wri0thesley · 3 years

Note

thank you for infecting me with total naoya brain rot, nat. can i request a breeding kink scenario with him and curvy, thick reader that he thinks looks perfect for bearing him an heir 👀 feel free to make him as nasty as you want, i love to read about this absolute trash fire of a man

Covet - Naoya x Fem!Reader (3.6k)

Naoya wants something from you - you see a chance to get something you want too.

warnings: afab reader, fem pronouns. breeding. power imbalance (reader is a maid at the zen’in estate). talk of pregnancy, knives, misogyny, fingering, coming inside/creampies. the mandatory warning that this fic is about naoya.

You are fairly certain that Naoya Zenin does not know whether you exist. If he has ever noticed you attending to your duties, so much lower and less important than he, he probably doesn’t like you.

At least, you did not think he liked you before this moment. Even now, with his hands on your hips and your body pressed flush against the wall outside his chambers, you’re not certain – there’s a weight to the way he’s holding you, a twist to his lips that you can see from where your cheek has met cool wallpaper. He looks like he’s considering you; sizing you up.

Your cheeks burn as he sizes up your lower half, eyes tracing your hips and ass and thighs without even a hint of remorse, as if it’s his god-given right to look upon you like this even though you’ve barely ever spoken more than a cursory polite; ‘I brought you this, Sir’. That’s what you’ve been taught to do.

Be respectful, stick to the shadows, do what you’re told. It’s an honour to serve the Zenin clan, it’s an honour to be here in the estate – it’s an honour to get a brief moment of any of their time, even if they’re just making demands on you. You sometimes hate yourself, for not being born one of them - you want, you want, you want, like a physical ache. The luxury. The nice treatment. People to think that you merely blessing them with a look is an honour--

It’s an especial honour to be worth Naoya’s time – everybody knows that he’s going to be the next leader. There are always rumours buzzing around the grounds about him; about his power, about his temper, about his personality . . . about which pretty young woman he’ll make his wife and have beside him to rule the clan.

You’re brought back to what’s currently happening by his hands sliding down from where he is clinging onto your hips, generously tracing the curve, admiring just how broad they are.

“Pity you have to hide beneath that,” he says, smirking. Your cheeks are hot. “You’re pretty, you know. At least. . .” One hand moves from your hip, thumb and forefinger squeezing your cheeks to turn them more thoroughly towards him. He looks entirely unruffled by the situation, every inch of him at ease that you will bend to what he wants. “Your body is pretty.” Eyes scan over your face, and you’re suddenly aware of every imperfection, every feature you’ve ever scrutinised. “Hm. Not bad either.”

“I . . . I don’t understand,” You find yourself breathing. He raises one elegant eyebrow. The hand that’s on your hip moves, tracing the plush of your ass through fabric, his lip curling into a smirk. He presses a little bit forward and you feel something stiff press against your other cheek (the one not occupied by his hand) – and your throat goes dry as you realise precisely what he means.

Oh.

You should run. Good girls do not do what Naoya wants you to do. You have duties to attend to! You have things that must be done, lest your seniors sigh and tut at you and punish you for neglecting your work. But your throat is very dry and your heart is pounding and there is suddenly a strange twist of heat low in your gut, as Naoya Zenin looks down at you with the air of a man who will devour you if you let him.

You can’t deny it’s thrilling to be wanted – more thrilling to be wanted by someone like him.

“I’ll give you ten seconds,” he says, and his tone is patronising. “If you don’t want me to take you to bed and fuck you, I suggest you make yourself scarce.”

He says it so openly, so brazenly – you suppose that’s what comes of being born into this family. He has nothing to fear in these walls. Not like you.

You imagine yourself underneath him for a second, his hair in disarray, hakama abandoned, his perfectly composed face twisted in pleasure. You should not go to his bed. But . . . you want to. And don’t you deserve something you want, when you’ve spent your entire life watching other people enjoy it?

“You don’t need to,” you breathe, swallowing. Naoya pulls back in amusement, his eyes darkening. He seems so much taller and stronger than you. Even swathed in fabric, it’s clear that there is muscle and strength beneath the clothes. He has been trained to within an inch of his life since the day he was born. He makes a considering noise in the back of his throat. A thumb trails over your cheek.

“Are you sure about that?” The smirk in his voice says that he knows you are. “I won’t be gentle with you, you know. I don’t have all day to romance you. I just want to get you on your back . . .” His thumb slides over your jawline, past your earlobe, until he’s taken a hank of your hair and yanks it back roughly, exposing your throat and making you gasp. “And fuck a son into you.”

He must see the look on your face, because he laughs, the sound cruel even to your ears. He’s still pressed so close to you. Nobody who walked down this hallway would mistake the embrace the two of you were currently in for anything clandestine. You suppose he has nothing to worry about – but your reputation? He’d ruin you for marriage.

“Come on,” he murmurs, chuckling. “Have you seen yourself? You’re made for bearing a child, sweetheart.” The pet name is almost mocking, but your heart skips a beat anyway. “Don’t worry too much. You don’t think I could take care of you, if you carried my heir? You’re a servant, right? You already know how to behave.” His smile is like a wolf. “So, I give you my word that if it takes, I’ll take care of you. Sounds fair, huh?” He jerks on your hair again. “Ten seconds,” he reminds you. “If you want to get out of it. You don’t think there are girls lining up around the block to have me?”

(Judging by the whispers about him, you actually don’t think there are – but judging from Naoya’s eyes, he certainly thinks so.)

He lets go. He steps back. His eyes are still on you, but he raises his arms either side of him as if to show you that you’re free to go. And you do consider it – you let the possibility of running flicker through your head. It’s quickly replaced by the thought of Naoya on top of you, an end to the aching between your legs, and the knowledge of just how you might be treated if Naoya did succeed in his mission.

It’s fine to want nice things, every once in a while.

“Five,” he says, warningly, but his eyes are dark with hunger. “Four. Three.”

You turn towards his bedroom door and grasp the handle, and he laughs, the sound very loud.

“Oh,” he says, “so you’re going to be fun.”

The minute his bedroom door clicks behind him, Naoya wastes no time on being on you. He’s full throttle, immediately – hands pulling at your clothes, rough, his mouth on your neck. He avoids your mouth, like he doesn’t quite want to kiss you – but as you bite back a moan as he nips at your throat and he groans in response at the noise, you realise that he wants to hear you.

Figures a man like that wants the reassurance that you’re enjoying yourself. Figures he wants to crow over every whimper that drops from your lips. Hands pull at your kimono, almost ripping it in his hurry to have the fabric out of his way and on the floor. You barely even notice he’s been pushing you across the room until you’re pushed hard down, and your back meets pillows and sheets instead of the floor.

The way you fall makes a perfect tableaux; the material of your outfit pooling around you, your body in the middle of it, clad in only your underwear. His light eyes rake over you hungrily.

“Fuck,” he says. His hands immediately go to your hips, thumbs pressing hard into the soft flesh. You barely fit in his hands, the curve of you dramatic. “You’re going to be perfect for this, huh? Look at you. It’s a fucking shame you’re not knocked up right now--”

Your body reacts to his touch and his look, though you can’t help but be embarrassed by it – it’s one thing to be entranced by someone pretty, you think, but it’s another thing to be entranced by the idea of how pretty someone will look when their stomach is swollen and their breasts have swelled and their hips have filled out because they’re bearing your child.

He doesn’t bother with unclipping your bra. He reaches into his hakama and panic flashes before your eyes when he pulls out a knife, but he uses it merely to slice the gore between your bra cups, right between the cute bow adorning them.

“I—I liked that,” you say, but your voice sounds very wobbly in the room, under Naoya’s gaze, under his hands. He snorts.

“I like you better without it,” he says shortly, as if your likes and dislikes are not a consideration to be taken into account. For him, you suppose they’re not. “Besides.” Hands travel from your hips to cup your breasts, squeezing the meat of the mounds so that you groan and arch your back, desire pooling between your legs. “I wanted to see these. I wanted to touch them.” He grins. “I wanted to imagine how nice they’re going to look when they get bigger.”

He squeezes the point of each of your nipples, so hard that the pleasure almost becomes pain.

“I think I’ll leave marks on you,” he says, conversationally. He pulls an arm back and suddenly has slapped you, your breast stinging, a brief imprint of his hand showing on your skin. He admires how your breast moves with the force – you’re too surprised to even make a noise of pain. “Good girl. I want you to remember how I feel when we’re done.”

You don’t think you could forget. You definitely can’t forget the sting of the second slap, this one making you moan – it hurts, but part of it feels good to be marked by him. You definitely can’t forget his thumbs hooking into your underwear, dragging it past your thighs – the way that he drinks in the wet patch on the fabric. You definitely don’t think you’ll be able to forget the chuckle that leaves his mouth as he spreads your thighs and sees your sex for the first time, already slick.

“You like being treated rough, huh?” He asks you. There’s that grin again; a predator, a man who has never been told no, a man who doesn’t know what it’s like to not have everything he has ever wanted at his fingertips. “Good. I like playing rough.”

He still doesn’t kiss you. He dives his head down, though, his teeth once more nipping at your neck, at your breast, tongue lathing across your nipples. One of his hand delves between your legs, spreading the plump labia, fingers briefly stroking your clit and sending a hot bolt of lightning all through you.

“That’s right,” he murmurs, as he pushes a finger inside of you. You’re slick and tight around his digits, hot and silky – one of his fingers alone is like a vice. You’re going to feel so good. He doesn’t much care whether his cock hurts you or not – but he wants you to be so fucked out by the time he’s come inside you that you don’t care about him leaving your legs propped up so not a single trickle of come leaks out of you. He doesn’t want a whimpering little bitch in his bed – he wants someone who’ll lie there, patiently, prettily, and let him make sure it takes.

You’re going to be good for that, he knows it. With a body like that, and eyes like that, and a clear longing for something better than the shitty hand you’ve been dealt? Oh, yes. You might not know it, but Naoya likes you immensely.

That you’re a servant, who’s been taught your place - that you’ll look at the ground respectfully and walk behind him and agree to whatever he says, like women should? Even better. Perfect. Fuck any of those snooty young women of a clan who think that just because they were born with a name, they were somehow more than a cunt for breeding--

Two fingers. This one gets a cry from you, almost too full – Naoya clicks his tongue against his teeth. He’s not patient, but he slows down, scissoring you open. One of your hands seems to flex out as if going to grab his bicep – but thinks better of it, clutching for purchase on the bed instead. Cute.

He can’t help but watch his fingers dive in and out of you, already coated in your liberal slick. They already look so good – he can’t even imagine how good his cock will look, hilted so deep in you he’s all you can feel.

Three fingers. You’re making soft little noises, circling your hips – there’s a coil in your belly that Naoya’s fingers are stoking in a way you didn’t expect, one that you feel like you’re so close to getting to spring forth – he slides his fingers out of you as he feels you tightening and tensing around him. If you’re close enough to come on his fingers, he reasons, you’re close enough to take his cock.

He didn’t expect to be so entranced by how pretty you looked, all curves and soft on his bed – but there’s time for that later. Right now, his cock is driving a hole through his own underwear. The thought of fucking his seed into you, of having you coming around his cock . . . you moan in frustration at the lack of stimulation as his hands busy themselves peeling off his own clothes.

“What’s the matter?” He asks you, a little breathless. You don’t notice that – good. He hates people witnessing weakness. “You need to be filled up?”

“I—” your teeth dig into your bottom lip, and Naoya has the urge to kiss you that he pushes back.

Not now. Not yet. Not while you’re still scum. He can transform you, and maybe you’ll be worthy of that – but right now, you’re an empty shell, and Naoya needs to mould you into something fuller and better before he’ll lower himself to brush his lips over your own. That’s too intimate. That’s too much.

“You don’t need to use your words,” he purrs. “You’re soaking wet.”

You urge your thighs further apart as Naoya’s clothes slip off of him and you see his cock jutting proud against his stomach. You haven’t had much experience to know whether it’s a nice cock, whether he’s big – but Naoya grins when he sees you looking, ferocity sparking in his expression.

“You may as well look at it,” he tells you, “because it’s going to be buried inside you in just a moment--”

He’s on the bed, his body on top of yours. His hands are clinging to the hips he’s admired so much, his grip tight enough to mark. His face is close enough that you can see the sculpt of his lips and the fan of his eyelashes, the dark pupils. The wet head of his cock smears precome on your thigh as he positions himself at your entrance – and as he sinks inside, your body welcomes him.

He hisses in fluid pleasure as his cock descends inside of you inch by slow, inexorable inch – the stretch, the burn, the slick fluid pleasure. This time, one of your hands does find purchase on his shoulder – but Naoya is enjoying the feeling of your walls kissing his cock, embracing him tight and deep, too much to snap at you for being such an insolent thing. Your nails leave little crescent moon marks in his shoulder that he decides to forgive. After all – you’ll have bruises in the shape of his handprints tomorrow, he knows it. He doesn’t have a single crumb of shame about it.

If he gets his way, you’ll have more than just those as a mark of tonight. He hilts inside you, his skin pressing hot against yours. You’re so full – he feels so very deep, buried as far as he can go. All of your breath has been knocked out of you.

Your eyes meet his for just a moment.

“Better hold on,” he tells you. “I told you I wouldn’t be gentle.”

The first pull out is swift, immediately thrusting back inside you with such force that your body rocks on the bed. He wasn’t lying about not being gentle; his hips quickly establish a punishing rhythm, helped along by the slick glide of your channel, the wetness leaking around his cock. He pulls you a little with every thrust, the hands on his hips assisting him being able to watch his cock drive in and out of your sex. It’s a mark of the strength he has that the only sign that you weigh anything at all is a huff of breath in between his thrusts – you’ve never exactly felt delicate in your life, but something about Naoya’s way of handling you makes you think that he could break you in half if he tried.

That is, if his rough thrusts in and out of you don’t split you in two first. You give up trying to do anything other than hold onto him, your mouth dropping open in a series of wordless wails and moans.

(Naoya prefers quiet women, he has to admit – but there’s something endearing about you giving up in bed, giving yourself to him in voice as well as body. Perhaps he doesn’t mind a loud woman, as long as the reason she’s loud is because he’s fucking her silly).

His skin slaps against your skin. The sound mixes with your own whimpers and gasps, Naoya’s quieter breathing, the embarrassingly wet sounds of his cock plunging in and out of you. The release that was denied to you earlier with his fingers is creeping back up on you again, all hot pleasure and tight tension. With every thrust, Naoya is hitting a spot amongst your plush walls that has your eyes rolling back in your head and your body all hot and needy. He doesn’t care if you come, really – this isn’t about you – but . . . just another of those things he supposes he could get used to, as the ball of pleasure inside of you finally unravels and you feel yourself come.

And oh, he could get used to that feeling too – how your walls pulsate around him, pulling his cock tighter inside of you, practically milking him. His hips just get faster, snapping against you like a man possessed – heh. Isn’t that funny?

Your chest is heaving, but he’s enjoying the feel of your hips too much to play with your tits again. When they’re all swollen with milk and bigger and rounder, he’ll probably fuck you again, slower . . . and then, he’ll get his feel of touching them. Just like he’ll get his feel of your thighs even plusher, your stomach rounder, your hips even better in his grip--

It’s those thoughts that push him over the edge. Your body softened and rounded with his child – his son, his heir. You’re fucking perfect for it. He groans, his hips snapping and driving so deep inside you that you think he’ll break – and then, he’s groaning, and his cock is pulsing inside you as the sensation of his come painting your walls hot and thick overtakes your senses.

He pumps his cock a few more times inside of you after the initial release, as if he’s trying to push his seed even further within you. You’re shuddering, exhausted, your body aching – and so, you don’t argue beyond a soft noise of pain at the unpleasant prickle as he pulls his cock out of you. You don’t argue when he slides a pillow beneath your hips and says;

“Keep your legs bent like that.”

Naoya takes a moment to admire you. Your pretty cunt is darkened from his aggressive fucking, clit swollen, slick with your own desire-- he frowns as he notices a drop of something whiter and thicker. That won’t do. Two fingers roughly push his come back into you, pressing it deeply, making you groan and your hips weakly thrust against them.

It’s cute that you’re still welcoming to his fingers; that your sex still sucks them in as if it’s greedy to be fucked again. Your eyes are half-lidded, glassy – your lips bitten dark. He thinks he could fuck you again and you wouldn’t even complain.

Yes. He grins at you. Give it a little while, to make sure his come takes – and then, he thinks, he will fuck you again. There’s no harm in being thorough, right?

#not sfw #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk posting #afab reader #fem pronouns #misogyny for ts #knives for ts #breeding for ts #writing #Anonymous #jjk writing tag

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katyasrussianaccent · 3 years

Text

symptom of your touch (natasha romanoff x reader)

Author's note: This is my first natasha smut fic, been writing it in my head for so long. Hopefully you enjoy this piece of self-indulgent smut!

Summary: You're Tony's personal assistant with a crush on Black Widow. Could it be possible that she might feel the same?

Warnings: Bathroom sex, bottom! Nat.

The first time you met Natasha was in the meeting room at Stark tower. You’d been working as Tony’s personal assistant for about two months now; a job that was both unexpected but incredibly appreciated - the daily bills through your letterbox were getting more and more threatening, red words in large letters demanding money you didn’t have.

You were a friend of Sam’s; you used to jog together before you were replaced by Captain America. You didn’t mind, not really, because well, it was Captain America. You couldn’t compete with that ass. And while you didn’t jog as much, Sam always made sure you were okay.

Like most people; you were a fan of the Avengers. If you had to pick a favourite, it would have been Black Widow. Maybe it was because she was the only woman, but there was something about her that you just really liked. And it wasn’t just because she’s really fucking hot and you’re really gay.

You had walked into the meeting room; your hands full with various drinks. For superheroes, the Avengers were really particular about their drink orders; for instance Thor gets really annoyed if they forget the whipped cream on his hot chocolate. You walked round the room, handing each drink out and trying to not look so obvious as you eavesdropped. You handed Clint his drink and turned towards Natasha. You assumed she had been away on a mission, because she hadn’t been around until now. You swallowed a little; the object of your affections was literally sitting right in front of you.

“Agent Romanoff,” you said, holding out her drink; a matcha green tea latte. She looked at you for a second, a thoughtful look on her face as she cocked her head towards Tony.

“What happened to…..?” Natasha trailed off, looking at Tony expectantly.

“Shannon. Pregnant,” Tony answered, putting his hands out over his abdomen to mimic a pregnant stomach. “She was two seconds away from turning the floor into a slip and slide.”

Natasha scrunched her nose up before looking back at you. She took the drink from your hand, a small smile on her face before she turned back to the team. And it was in that brief moment, that you knew that she was going to be a big problem for you.

It’s a while before you see Natasha again; not that you were keeping check. You’re in the meeting room cleaning up; humming a song as you pick up pieces of paper. The door opens and you look behind to see Natasha standing in the doorway.

“Oh. Good afternoon Agent Romanoff,” you say, smiling. She was in her civilian clothes; a simple tank top and dark jeans. The jeans are practically molded to her shape, and it takes every ounce of willpower to not stare at her ass as she passes behind you. You aren’t sure how someone could make such a simple outfit look so amazing. “Did you need something?”

“Clint, he forgot his phone,” she replies, walking behind you and grabbing the cell phone that lay on the table. “I swear he would forget his head if it wasn’t attached.”

“Good thing he has you to keep him in check.”

She smiles politely in reply but doesn’t respond as she walks towards the door. Your mouth opens slightly to say something, anything, to make her stay just a little bit longer. You fail to do so in time, and you sigh as the door closes and the room is empty again. You aren’t sure what makes Natasha so fascinating, you’ve spoken to her literally twice, but there’s just something about her that makes her so enigmatic. Though you suppose it’s literally her job to be like that, and you briefly think of the people that have fallen under her spell.

It’s strange, how although she’s incredibly dangerous, she feels just like a normal person, a person that could kill you in one move, but a normal person nonetheless.

You’re chopping tomatoes in the kitchen, your mind starting to zone out as you watch the knife slice through with ease. It’s been a long day; while working for Tony has been a lifeline that you desperately needed, you don’t think you’ve ever felt so tired. The fridge door beside you closes, and you startle at the sudden noise, the knife moves from the tomato to your finger, the pain sharp as blood begins to pool in the cut.

“Fuck,” you say, hissing as you press you other hand against the cut, moving to the sink to run it under water.

“I am so sorry,” a voice says behind you, and you turn your head to see Natasha at your side. “Are you okay?”

You sigh a little, “I’m fine, but the tomatoes are ruined.”

Natasha moves nearer to you, so close you can feel the heat radiating from her body and any previous pain you felt has suddenly disappeared at the mere proximity of her. “It’s okay, Stark can afford a few tomatoes.”

You giggle before reaching over to get a paper towel, but Natasha beats you to it, pressing the towel onto your wound wordlessly.

“Baby,” she mutters as you wince and you look at her, mouth agape in shock. She ignores you, and you take this opportunity to look at her as she tends to the small cut on your finger. She must have been somewhere hot on her last mission; from this close you can see the slight colour on her nose and cheekbones where she’s caught the sun. As she moves out of your personal space, the scent of her invades your nostrils and you’re surprised that she smells so delicate and floral.

“I think you’ll live” she says, jutting her chin out to point to the small band aid on your finger.

“Have you ever thought about being a doctor?”

“Why? My bedside manner not appealing to you?” she asks, and you look down to hide the blush on your face as you think briefly about what Natasha’s bedside manner could entail.

“Uh, not at all, it’s very appealing. I mean, not very appealing -”

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” she says as she leaves the kitchen, leaving you with a bandaid on your finger and a warmth between your thighs.

The first thing you notice about the party is how loud it is. It’s Tony’s birthday, so Stark tower has been transformed into a full on party tower. The room is crammed with people, and you take a moment to look around to see if you can find someone you know to attach yourself to. It wasn’t that you disliked parties, you just weren’t the type to spark a conversation with strangers. You can see Thor in the middle of the room, holding a keg as Steve is on the floor chugging from it. Guess even Captain America needs to let loose sometimes.

You bite your lip as you scan the people near you, your eyes zeroing in Natasha. You take the opportunity to watch her briefly from a distance. She looks amazing, a simple black dress that has a slit to the upper thigh that shows a delicious amount of leg when she moves. You haven’t spoken since she called you cute, and the more you thought about it, the more confused you were. While cute was a compliment, you weren’t sure if she meant it in a puppy kind of way. Sexy wasn’t the first thing you thought about yourself, but you kind of wish that she had picked a better word. Maybe you were just imagining tension that wasn’t there because you hoped it was there.

You exhale any nervousness and plaster a smile on your face as you walk towards her. She raises an eyebrow in greeting and you wave at her, immediately regretting it.

“Hi,” you greet and she smiles a little.

“You look nice,” she says, her eyes roaming over your body. Okay, maybe you weren’t imagining things.

You blush, your face feeling warm as you mutter a quiet thanks. “It has pockets,” you respond lamely, putting your hands in them and pulling the dress out, like she needs to be shown what pockets were.

“Drink?” Natasha asks, cocking her head towards the bar. You shake your head. “You don’t drink?”

“I do, just not here. I don’t want to make an idiot of myself in front of my boss,” you answer. You don’t have a problem with alcohol per se, you just never know when to call it quits. And while drunk you is fun, you really want to make a good impression.

Natasha nods in understanding but walks off towards the bar anyway, and you stand there for a second confused before following.

“Two virgin daiquiris,” you hear her say as you get to her. You can see the bartender pull a face at the request, but it quickly disappears when he sees who’s ordering.

“Coming up,” he mumbles, his eyes glued to anywhere but Natasha as he moves with haste.

“I think you scared him,” you comment and Natasha smiles a little, a smug smile that shouldn’t be so sexy, but it really is.

“I get that a lot,” she replies and you hum in acknowledgement. “Do I scare you?”

The question takes you aback and you ponder a moment before answering. “Do you want me to be scared of you?”

“Answer the question,” she says, a little firm in her tone.

“No. No you don’t scare me.”

She purses her lips. “I think you might be one of the only ones not scared of me.”

“Is that a bad thing?” you ask and she closes her eyes for a second, sighing.

“Fear is a very powerful thing. I like the way it feels,” she says, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen her look so vulnerable.

“There are other powerful emotions other than fear,” you reply. You aren’t sure how to respond to her, serious conversation was not your strong suit.

“Like?”

“Lust. Love. Anger.”

There’s a beat of silence between you as you look at each other, your eyes reading over her unreadable face, nothing on her features to give away what she's thinking.

“So you aren’t scared of me. What emotion do you feel?” Natasha asks, causing you to splutter as you take a sip of you drink and you’re suddenly wishing your drink had alcohol in it.

“Out of the three I just gave?” you ask and she nods. “Uh well, I hadn’t um really thought about it.”

It’s stupid of you, to lie to a literal spy and you know for a fact she know’s you’re lying.

“That’s not true,” she replies and you take a sideways glance at her. “You think I haven’t noticed you looking at me?”

Your heartbeat quickens and you start to stammer an apology. “I - “

“I know, because I’ve been looking at you too.”

“Wait what?” you ask incredulously. “Are you sure there’s no booze in this drink?”

Natasha laughs and you smile at the sight of her. “Very sure. You’re very cute, did you know that?”

“I did not, but now I do. I’ll be honest, this doesn’t happen to me a lot, so I’m not really sure what to say or do.”

She slides closer to you, a smirk on her face as she leans close, her breath warm on your cheek. “Well there’s a bathroom over there.”

It takes a minute for you to register what she means, and you can see her wait patiently as you look at the bathroom door across the room and then back at her. The blood is rushing in your ears as you grab her hand and pull her across the room, adrenaline pumping through your veins.

The bathroom is luckily empty when you both enter, and your hands don’t leave hers as you push her into the stall furthest away from the door. You open your mouth to speak but it’s interrupted as she surges forward, her lips on yours. She tastes like strawberries with a slight hint of booze, and you wonder how many drinks she’s had before you arrived. You find yourself not really caring as her hands move to your neck, yours follow down to her hips, your fingertips ghosting her back.

You’ve kissed before, but this is different, like fireworks and gunpowder in a small room; every nerve in your body alight with hot, searing fire. You switch her round so her back is against the door, your hands roaming ever inch of her body, tight muscle beneath your fingertips. Part of you wants to take your time, explore every part of her, but the greedy part of your brain wins out and it’s not long before you’ve got one hand moving in between her thighs.

Your mouth is on her neck, licking and sucking at the hollow of her collarbone, a small moan falling from her lips and you want to hear that sound again and again. She opens her legs and you cup her above her panties before going underneath them, your fingers moving past soft curls and into the warm, wetness of her pussy.

You curl your fingers up, and she gasps, her breath hot and fast against your skin. You move them inside her, pumping in and out slowly as her hand grips at your hip. It feels powerful; to have the great Black Widow fucking herself on your fingers in an act of desperation.

“Please,” she whispers as you continue to slowly move.

“Please what?” you ask, stopping completely causing a small whine to escape her lips.

“Please fuck me,” Natasha replies, rolling her hips against your fingers.

“Okay,” you say simply. You press a kiss to her cheek before sinking to your knees. A brief thought about gross bathroom floors crosses your mind, but you push it away as her hand strokes your hair. She takes the hint and pulls her dress up around her hips. Your hands move up her thighs, nudging them apart so you can pull down the lacy underwear she wears; shoving them into your bag. Pressing kisses up her thigh, her breath hitches as your mouth ghosts against her clit. She sighs as your tongue swipes at her once before moving in to circle at her clit with your tongue.

She moans, a low, quiet moan that ends quickly as you both hear the bathroom door open, the chatter of two women filling the once silent room. You look up at her, raising an eyebrow in question. Natasha looks down at you, a slight flush on her cheeks as she nods. You place a finger to your lips, before moving back between her thighs. She tastes sweet, sweeter than you imagined, but there’s something there, a slight tang that makes your tongue tingle. Of course she would taste fucking perfect; everything about her is perfect, and you can’t stop yourself from tasting her more and more, drinking her in.

Your fingers join your mouth and she’s warm as she clenches with every movement inside her. She’s jutting her hips against your mouth, and you can feel your wrist start to cramp as you fuck her roughly, but you know she’s close, the grip in your hair getting harder. It’s starting to get uncomfortable, your knees are starting to hurt, but you want to make her come undone, to fall apart.

You hook her leg over your shoulder to get deeper, never stopping the pace as you fuck her. Her body begins to shudder, and you look up to see her shove a fist in her mouth at the exact moment the toilet next to you flushes. A moan escapes her but neither of you seem to care as she rides the wave of her orgasm. Her chest has a sheen of sweat, and you want to run your tongue over it, taste the salt of her skin. But that’s for another time.

Natasha looks down at you as she tries to catch her breath, and you get to your feet ungracefully, wincing as your knees twinge. There’s uncertainty in your stomach as you look at her. What does this mean, does it mean anything to her? You had just made her cum in a bathroom stall, but maybe that was normal. It wasn’t to you, but normality was subjective.

“This party’s kind of boring, do you want to get something to eat?” Natasha asks, breaking you from your inner turmoil. You blink at her as your brain registers what she’s saying. The once uncertain voice in your head is screaming at you to say yes.

“Sure,” you reply simply.

“Cool,” she says, nodding, her face still slightly flushed. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say she felt a little awkward.

“I’m not getting those panties back am I?” she asks as you walk towards the bathroom door and head back into the party.

“Nope,” you say, patting your bag for good measure. “Besides, you might not need them.”

#my fic #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha romanov x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #black widow fanfiction #black widow #black widow x you #avengers fanfiction #black widow x y/n #black widow x female reader #natasha romanov x you #black widow imagine #natasha romanoff imagine

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felassan · 3 years

Text

Some DA trivia and dev commentary from Twitter

There’s a lot of different tweets, so I’m just pasting and linking to the source rather than screencapping them all or making several different posts or something. Post under cut for length.

User: Was dragon age 2 your favourite in the franchise?

David Gaider: DA2 was the project where my writing team was firing on all cylinders, and they wrote like the wind- because they had to! Second draft? Pfft. Plot reviews? Pfft. I was so proud of what we all accomplished in such a brief time. I didn't think it was possible. [source] DA2 is, however, also where the goal posts kept moving. Things kept getting cut, even while we worked. I had to write that dialogue where Orsino turned even if you sided with him, because his boss battle had been cut and there was no time to fix the plot. A real WTF moment. >:( [source]

Mike Rousseau: I remember bugging that! And then being told it wasn't a bug, and being so confused. Doing QA for DA2 was an experience. Trial by fire. [source]

DG: So I think it's safe to say DA2 is my favorite entry in the DA franchise and also the sort of thing I never want to live through ever again. Mixed feelings galore. [source]

User: (I personally blame whoever it was for ruining most romance arcs in other games for me; they don't live up to Fenris's romance storyline)

DG: I wrote Fenris, so uh - me, I guess? Or maybe his cinematic designer, who put in the puppy dog eyes. [source]

User: If DA2 had just been an expansion, do you think it would have been better received? There was a lot of great stuff in there, and I think my initial dislike of it was because of the zone reuse. If it hadn't needed to be a full game, would that issue not have arisen?

DG: Hard to say. It was either going to be an over-scoped expansion or an under-scoped sequel. If it had stayed an expansion, it might never have received the resources/push it DID get. [source]

User: I'd love to visit the universe where you had an extra year or so to work on it. You did a very good job as it stands, but it definitely had rough edges. Not just the writing team either. The whole game had hit and miss moments, that just a little more dev time could have fixed.

DG: On one hand, DA2 existed to fill a hole in the release schedule. More time was never in the cards. DA2 was originally planned as an expansion! On the other, if we had more time, would we have started doing that thing where we second guess/iterate ourselves into mediocrity? [shrug emoji] [source]

Jennifer Hepler: This is what I love about DA2. Personally, I greatly prefer something that's rough and raw and sincere to something that's had all the soul polished out of it. Extra time would have helped for art and levels, but it would have lost something too. [source]

DG: Right? I think we could have used some time for peer reviews (and fewer cuts), but I think the rawness of the writing lent a certain spark that we usually polished out. [source]

JH: Definitely. I think the structure (more character-driven) and the tightness of the timeframe let each individual writer's voice really come through. Polish can be very homogenizing. [source]

DG: I should add I'm not, by any means, against iteration. Some iteration is good and necessary. The problem that BioWare often had is that we never knew when to stop. Like a goldfish, we would fill the space given to us by constantly re-iterating on things that were "good enough". [source]

Patrick Weekes: I appreciate your incredibly diplomatic use of the past tense on "had". :D [source]

User: DA2 was my gateway into the series and I’m so happy it is. I love the game the way that it is. It’s one of my favorites of all time. But I am also aware of everything that was said here. If it were remastered, do you think it would change?

DG: I'd be surprised if it was ever remastered. If it was, do you really think they'd change things? Do remasters do that? No idea. [source]

User: Both sides got undercut as I recall. Didn't that whole sequence also end with the mage leader embracing blood magic? It was very much "a plague on both your houses" moment, at least for me.

DG: Yep. Orsino was supposed to have his own version of Meredith's end battle, which only happened if you sided with the templars. That got cut, but the team still wanted to use the model we'd made for him. So... that happened. [source]

DG: I would personally say that DA2 is a fantastic game hidden under a mountain of compromises, cut corners, and tight deadlines. If you can see past all that, you'll see a fantastic game. I don't doubt, however, that it's very difficult for most to do that. [source]

PW: I love DAI with all my selfish "I worked on this" heart, but DA2's follower arcs and relationships are probably my favorite in the series. [source]

User: As I've expressed many times, I love the game, especially it's writing and characters but, for me, the most impressive aspect of it, in consideration of it's lack of time for drafts and revisions, is the 2nd act with Arishok. What amazingly complex character and fantastic duel

User: Just played it again and I have to agree. Though he is bound by the harsher tenants of the Qun, he makes valid points about free marcher society. Though it is obvious that he and Hawke will come to blows eventually, the tension builds gradually and understandably

DG: Luke did such a fantastic job with the Arishok I found myself sometimes wishing the Qunari plot had just been THE plot. [source]

User: What do you think would have changed, story wise, if you had more time for DA2?

DG: I would have taken out that thing where Meredith gets the idol. It was forced on me because she needed to be "super-powered" with red lyrium for her final battle. Being "crazy", however, robbed her side of the mage/templar argument of any legitimacy. I hated hated hated that. [source]

User: I deeply lament that there wasn't/couldn't be some sort of DA2 equivalent of Throne of Bhaal's Ascension mod.

DG: I'd have done it, if DA2 had allowed for anything but the most rudimentary of modding. ;) [source]

User: I mean, and I think I understand where you were trying, but how much legitimacy did the Templars and her as top Templar have after they're keeping the mages locked up against their will in the old slave quarters? Feel free to not reply.

DG: I think it's the kind of discussion which requires nuance, and which discussions on the Internet are not prone to. [source]

User: Was a compromise that the quest lines don’t branch? It felt like it was supposed to be that way but then you end up in the same place later regardless of what you pick. Like I hoodwinked the templars so good to help the apostates escape but in Act II they were caught anyway.

DG: I remember us having a lot more branching in the initial planning yes. Most of this got trimmed out in the first or second wave of cuts, in an effort to not cut the plots altogether. [source]

DG: "If you could Zack Snyder DA2, what would you change?" Wow. I'm willing to bet Mark or Mike (or anyone else on the team) would give very different answers than me, but it's enough to give a sober man pause, because that was THE Project of Multiple Regrets. [source] I mean, it's the most hypothetical of hypotheticals. It's never gonna happen. I wouldn't be surprised if EA considered DA2 its embarrassing red-headed stepchild. We'd also need to ignore that in many ways DA2 was as good as it was bad BECAUSE of how it was made. But that aside? [source] First, either restore the progressive changes to Kirkwall we'd planned over the passing of in-game years or reduce the time between acts to months instead of years... which, in hindsight, probably should have been done as soon as the progressive stuff was cut. [source] I'm sure you're like "get rid of repeated levels!" ...but I don't care about that. All I wanted was for Kirkwall to feel like a bigger city. Way more crowded. More alive! Fewer blood mages. [source] I'd want to restore the plot where a mage Hawke came THIS close to becoming an abomination. An entire story spent trapped in one's own head while trapped on the edge of possession. Why? Because Hawke is the only mage who apparently never struggles with this. It was a hard cut. [source]

User: I would LOVE to hear more details about this! I don’t suppose there’s any chance of a short story?

DG: I don't even remember the details of the story, sorry. There was a fight, and you caught the bad guy and then realized none of it was real and woke up idk [source]

DG: I'd want to restore all those alternate lines we cut, meaning people forget they'd met you. Or that they knew you were a mage. Or, oh god, that maybe they'd romanced you in DAO. So much carnage. [source] I'd want to restore the Act 3 plots we cut only because they were worked on too late, but which would have made the buildup to the mage/templar clash less sudden. Though I don't remember what they were, now. Some never got beyond being index cards posted on the wall. [grimace emoji] [source] As I mentioned elsewhere, I'd want to restore Orsino's end battle so he wouldn't need to turn on you even if you sided with him. And I'd want an end fight with the templars that didn't require Meredith to have red lyrium and go full Tetsuo. [source] Heck, maybe an end decision where you sided with neither the mages nor the templars. Because it certainly ended up feeling like you could brand both sides as batshit pretty legitimately, no? That was never planned, tho. No idea how to make that feel like an actual path atm. [source] Maybe an option to go "umm, Anders... what are you DOING?" 👀 [source] And, of course, a Varric romance, because Mary took that "slimy car salesman" character we'd planned and did the impossible with him. I can feel Mary glaring at me for even suggesting this, tho. [source] Lastly, the original expanded opening to the game which allowed you to spend time with Bethany and Carver BEFORE the darkspawn attacked. And, um, that's about it off the top of my head. Zack Snyder, WHAT PANDORA'S BOX HAVE YOU OPENED. [source] Shit, I remembered two more things: 1) Restore the "Varric exaggerates the heck out of the story" at the beginning of every Act, until Cassandra calls him on it. Yes, that was a thing. 2) Make DA: Exodus. Yes, I am still bitter. [source] God damn it, I meant "Make DA: Exalted March". The DA2 expansion, NOT Exodus since that was DA2's original name and makes no sense. Because the expansion ended with Varric dying, and that will always be on my "things left undone" list. [source]

User: Whaaaat?

DG: Well, you know that scene in Wrath of Khan where Spock goes into the dilithium chamber because he's a Vulcan? Well, imagine that but with Varric and red lyrium and because he's a dwarf. ;) [source]

John Epler: I distinctly remember referencing the bit from MGS4 where you crawl through the microwave corridor in the split screen, while cinematic battle rages on the other half. [source]

DG: It would have been glorious, John. Glorious. [source]

JE: I don't think I've ever been so certain what a shot should look like as I did Hawke coming in and finding Varric in the broken throne, just like when he was telling Cassandra his story. [source]

DG: It would have come full circle! Auggghh, it still kills me. [source]

User: Lord, you folks are a little too good at this.

JE: The true secret behind videogame narrative is knowing how to make yourself seem a lot more clever than you actually are. [source] 'Oh, we TOTALLY planned that.' [source]

User: Ok, this thread [the DA2 regrets thread, which is the big chunks above] but Inquisition.

DG: My regrets about Inquisition are, more or less, the normal kind. Nothing so dramatic, I'm afraid. [source]

User: You can keep your Varric romance, I want a Flemeth romance goddamnit!

DG: I would allow for one flirt option, and then a recording of Kate Mulgrew laughing for three minutes straight. [source]

User: I had a hypothesis about the repetitive caves in DA2. They're repetitive because it's Varric telling the story and he didn't consider them important. They're like sets in a play. (Okay, I really suspect it was a time/money/resources thing but I like my fake explanation better.)

DG: Hang a lampshade on it, maybe? Cassandra: "But that's the exact cave you were in last time?" Varric: "Whatever. They all look the same, I'm not THAT kind of dwarf. Can we move on?" [source]

User: that makes sense, hypothetically to make Varric romanceable and keep his arc—that had to happen for the main plot—I imagine you would have to make double the content (or more)? which would've been a tall order given the time/budget constraints the game was under

DG: Right. When it comes to "romance arc" vs. "follower story arc", we generally only had time to do one or the other. Never both. Romancing Varric would have meant not getting the story of his that you did. [source]

Mary Kirby: The one exaggeration I really, REALLY wanted, that we never got to do was Varric narrating his own death scene with Hawke weeping over him, then cutting to Cassandra's pissed off glaring at him. [source]

DG: Haha! The one I wanted was Varric's plot where he takes on the baddies single-handedly, sliding across the floor like Jet Lee, action movie-style, until finally Cassandra gets irritated and he has to admit Hawke & the rest of the party showed up to help. [source]

MK: We did that one! (He didn't do any Jet Lee moves, though.) Jepler gave him letterboxing to get The Good, the Bad, & the Ugly showdown vibes while he shot a ton of mooks single-handed. [source]

DG: Wow. Shows how much I remember. [source]

JE: I found it! I remember seeing this sequence as my treat for doing a bunch of much more challenging work. It was fun to see how far I could push our limited library of animations. [link] [source]

DG: Heh awesome. I could have sworn it was cut, honestly. I think I was even in that meeting. [source]

User: no disrespect but that’s surprising and rich of Mary “Hard in Hightown” Kirby to think DA2 shouldn’t have had a Varric romance when she wrote an entire book of Varric’s self-insert character pining over his Hawke insert character… HIH is the reason we had VHawke Summer 2018

DG: I can't *really* speak for Mary, or how she feels about it now compared to back then. I only know how she felt about it back then, and I'm not sure it was as much the concept of the romance but that Varric's entire story would be bent to "romance arc" ...a very different thing. [source]

JH: I remember pushing to have the first DLC start with Hawke having an option to ask Varric, "Did you tell Cassandra about us?" and if you picked it, Varric would answer, "Of course not, baby. I told her you were sleeping with X..." and then proceed as if you had had a full romance. [source]

DG: I still wonder how that would have gone over. x) [source]

JE: Okay, one more DA2 thing. Putting together the cinematics for this scene was a blast. [link] [source]

MK: These lines are my greatest legacy. I want "Make sure the world knows I died... at Chateau Haine!" inscribed on my tombstone. [source]

JE: I was so glad no one said 'no' to the crane shot. [source]

MK: It needs that crane shot. It's the perfect icing on that cake made from solid cheese. [source]

DG: The designers were all "we need more combat" and I think we were all "I think you underestimate just HOW interesting we can make this dinner party". [source]

JE: And finally. I think @SherylChee wrote the one-liner. I think we had a collection of like, 20. [link] [source]

Sheryl Chee: Yeah! Something like that! I remember submitted a whole bunch and Frank said you only needed one. Wish I'd kept the other fifteen. [source]

JE: A random chooser where, each time through the scene, you get a different one-liner. [source]

JE: DA2 is the project I'm the proudest of. I also absolutely get that it didn't land for a lot of people. But I don't think it's inaccurate to say that, in a lot of ways, DA2 defined my career. [source] Everyone spent a year working at their maximum ability. I was a fresh cinematic designer and was given all of Varric's content, as well as the Act 1 Finale mission. It was a lot for someone who had been doing the Cinematics thing for literally 6 months. [source] There's some stuff in there I can't look at without wincing. And there's some stuff I'm genuinely proud of. Not to mention, it was my introduction to most of the writing team. Several of whom I'm still working with today! Albeit in a different capacity [source] Also, weirdly, one of my most enduring memories of Dragon Age 2 is how much Bad Company 2 we'd play at lunch. It was a LOT. [source] Every game I've worked on has a game I played attached to it. ME2 is Borderlands. DA2 is Bad Company 2. DAI is DayZ. I, hmm. There's a progression there. I don't know how I feel about it. [source]

User: Is DA4 going to be tarkov then?

JE: I've kind of churned out of Tarkov for now. Probably Hunt Showdown, at least right now. [source]

User: I think people also don't take nuance into consideration -- like I FULLY acknowledge the flaws in my favorite games and will openly criticize them, but that doesn't mean they're not my favorite games anymore??? You can like and thing and still be critical of it.

JE: A lot of my favourite shit is deeply flawed! I acknowledge it and I think it's interesting to dissect the flaws. [source]

User: I still wish Justice was an actual character in DA2 rather than a plot point.

DG: There was a moment during DAI where we *almost* put in you running into Justice with the Grey Wardens, and he's all "Kirkwall? I never went to Kirkwall" [source]

User: Does that imply that Justice was shoehorned in to DA2?

DG: Nah, it was an in-joke where we thought it'd be fun to suggest that "Justice" was simply some demon that tricked Anders in DA2. Wooo those tricky demons! We didn't do it, though. [source]

User: [about templars] except, I don't think it had very much legitimacy to begin with. keep in mind, we interact with other characters with the same argument. The one that comes to mind is Cullen, a sane templar in power. The templar's side of the argument is inherently flawed.

DG: I don't doubt that many people agree with you, and yet people can and do argue on behalf of the templars as well. My place isn't to pick a side, but to provide evidence that players can interpret for themselves [source]

User: Can you shed some light for us on how DA was able to do multiple same-sex romance options for different genders but the Mass Effect team treated them like the plague? What process existed for your team that just wasn't their for the other tentpole franchise?

DG: Different people making the decisions, almost different cultures. I don't know what it's like now, but for many years the Mass Effect team and the Dragon Age team were almost like two different studios working within the same building. [source]

User: It truly boggles the mind. Kudos for doing demonstrably better on consistent queer representation than the ME teams. Y'all never needed us to make petitions to try to get the studio's attention and ask them to do better by us. That's the fight we're once again embroiled in now.

DG: Honestly, I don't feel like tut-tutting the Mass Effect team. They did their part, and if they were a bit later to the show than the DA team they certainly did more than almost every other game out there -- and willingly. [source]

Updates begin here

User: So what was the reason for naming Dragon age 2 "Dragon age II" and not using a subtitle?

DG: As I recall, that was purely a publisher decision. I think they wanted to avoid the impression it was an expansion. [source]

User: Is there no chance of ever remaking DA2 under better circumstances? -Somehow remove the repetitiveness of gameplay by making changes and updating the tech and adding much more to the storyline. It could almost be a new very exciting game.

DG: I'd say there's zero chance of that. Let's keep our hopes up for the next DA title instead. [source]

User: I am a little confused here, help me out here please! How exactly was the cut boss battle with Orsino supposed to work out? How it would've kept him from turning against the player?

DG: It means that, if you sided with the templars, the entire boss bottle at the end would have been against Orsino and the mages. No fight against Meredith. The end decision would have been more divergent. [source]

User: I do remember that one of the reasons going around for that, was that resources were going to the transition to Frostbite. I'm still not fully sold on that having been a good choice. I felt that more time should have been given for that transition considering it was made for FPSs

DG: We didn't transition to Frostbite until DAI. Given our time frame for DA2, I don't think we *could* have transitioned to a new engine. [source]

User: Since your talking about the what could have been for DA2. Could you say what your script was for Anthem? Cause I remember reading that you wrote the plot on that game.

DG: I created a setting for Anthem and scripted out a plot - but, as I understand it, almost none of that ended up being used. So it's a bit pointless to talk about what I'd planned, as that'd be for some completely different type of game. [source]

User: [in reference to the exchange above where DG said “Being "crazy", however, robbed her side of the mage/templar argument of any legitimacy. I hated hated hated that.” re: Meredith] except, I don't think it had very much legitimacy to begin with. keep in mind, we interact with other characters with the same argument. The one that comes to mind is Cullen, a sane templar in power. The templar's side of the argument is inherently flawed.

If I missed a tweet, got the wrong source link or included a tweet twice, feel free to let me know and I’ll correct.

Edit / Update: Post update 22nd April

#dragon age #bioware #video games #fenris #the Fenaissance #long post #longpost #cassandra pentaghast #my lady paladin #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #mass effect

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undercoverpena · 3 years

Text

Stood Up + Salads

Diego Hargreeves x Fem!Reader Words: 1.5k AN: Set with a S1 Diego but not S1 or S2 storyline. For a friend, you know who you are.

He didn’t need to look up when the door goes, he knows it’s you. Because when it rains, it pours.

Diego wonders if he should be more upset about his father, rather than being upset he’s had to see the others. Only for him to take his frustration out on you, consciously or not.

The fact you allow the door to meet the frame with such a loud thud is enough of a signal to him that you’re pissed.

Diego takes a second, thinking of his next steps as he swipes his tongue over his teeth, staring at the punching bag, as if it’s going to provide any answers on what he should do. How he could get out of this. Because if he plays this wrong, which he will, it’s going to spiral. Becoming so much worse than it already is.

A whole lot fucking worse.

And it’s already bad.

Hitting the bag once, twice and then thrice, he pays attention to your footsteps nearing. Not turning, not needing to see if your arms are folded, lips pursed and giving him one of you signature dead expressions. He knows you will be, because Diego fucking knows you and you know him.

And he hates it.

He despises that you know about his tick. About his family. About his upbringing, talent and everything else in between. He hates that you suggested calling off the meal before he did, and he hates himself for agreeing to go even if he knew he wouldn’t attend.

Because he’s decided he hates being happy.

He likes being miserable, likes fighting petty crime without anyone to come home to.

“Asshole.”

Rolling his head, he casts his eyes over you. Finding you exactly as he’s imagined. The only—slight—difference is the look in your eyes.

Sadness. A look which doesn’t suit you. One which stands out to him, because he’s seen it so rarely.

It swirls in your eyes, mixing with your usual shade, darkening them as they pin him to his spot. Or try to.

Letting his hands fall to his sides, he lets out a sigh before he can help himself. And the glare you send him is enough to force him to turn to face you.

When it comes to you, he isn’t sure if he hates how close you are to him physically or metaphorically; not sure if he dislikes it more that he wants to kiss you or let you love him.

“Hello to you too.”

Your lips twitch into a smirk. “You don’t deserve a hello.”

“Touché.”

“Surprised you know that word.”

“Under all this, I’m clever y’know?”

“Are you?” you snap, and you roll your lips together.

Those painted plump lips that’s kissed every inch of him. That he’s woke up dreaming about and gone to sleep pressed against.

“You’re angry—“

“Oh, I’m past angry, Hargreeves,” you says, tapping your foot on the gym floor. “I was angry when I was on my second glass, wondering where you were. I was fuming when I left, embarrassed and ready to hunt you down. Now, now I’m almost murderous.”

He hasn’t been called his surname in sometime. Hasn’t found himself in hot waters, with you at least, in sometime. Even angry, he feels your eyes rake down his frame, following a bead of sweat which falls from his neck down his chest and stomach.

Pulling the gloves undone with his teeth, snaps your eyes back up. And he finds himself smirking at you and his own foolishness simultaneously.

Because deep down he’s known this day would come, where you—like most—tired of him. Finding yourself irritated with his ways, of his selfishness and his impulsiveness.

“Let me have it then.”

He throws the gloves to the floor, shifting his weight as he notices the slight narrowing of your eyes. The way your lips twitch, whether a smirk or a smile, he can’t be sure. Usually, there’s less talking when you’re like this; usually you’re already pinned under him or against something. Now, you don’t even look at him like you’d welcome that.

Diego hates you for that too.

Despises that you have gotten under his skin, throwing him off his game. He’s dated. Well, since Patch they’ve not been constant. Real or permanent.

But you, you got to him. He still doesn’t even know how.

You don’t bend as easily, don’t surrender as you should. You fight him, sometimes tooth and fucking nail, and fuck, he doesn’t hate that about you. He loves that. He loves it when you steal the wind from his sail; when you cut him down. You don’t pander to him, you call him out, and he needs that even if he can’t admit it.

He even doesn’t mind that you sooth the insecurity, recognising when enough is enough. Halting anything before it goes too far, leaves too many wounds. You make him want to try to be a little better, even if he fails most days.

“No.”

“No?”

You snort. “No. Because if I rip you a new one, you’ll find some way to say sorry. And, then you’ll kiss me, and I’ll melt, and then you will forget that you’re an asshole.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget that.”

Your jaw tenses, almost impossibly so. “For someone in your position, you have a lot of snark.”

“Be careful, you may hurt my feelings.”

Nodding, your lips twist before straightening to an unreadable expression again. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m done.”

His muscles relax.

And his heart stops.

Yet Diego is somehow, not as surprised as he should have been.

Even if he looks at you, staring at your eyes and hoping to see a tease, a jest. He looks hoping you will change your mind, that he hasn’t successfully pushed another person away.

“Took you long en—“

“Im done talking,” you continue, cutting him off. Taking closer steps, slow ones, full of purpose as you dig your eyes into him. “I’m not gonna ask you to do right by me, I’m not gonna ask for an explanation why you decided to stand me up tonight. Hey, you don’t even have to talk to me.”

His forehead creases, flicking his eyes from your eyes to your mouth.

“Because I know why. You want me without the commitment, without the expectations of being a good person. You want a hole to fuck, so here I am, Hargreeves. You’ve got one.”

Fuck.

He stifles a sigh, especially as your finger press into his chest, nail digging down into the skin as you roll your lips and then he has to focus on not groaning. Especially when you bat your eyes lashes and smirk so condescendingly he wonders if you’ve been sent to test him.

“You want to pretend you don’t crave normal, that you don’t deserve it,” you continue, looking up at him, “I’ll play pretend. Hey, I’ll become the best damn actor in your movie you’ll ever know. But, I’m done talking.”

You place your other hand on his, moving his to your hip as you smirk.

“So, lights camera action, baby. Where do you wanna fuck me first?”

He feels your lips ghost over his. His hand clenching around your hip. Everything inside of him telling to just go with it, to not talk, to not burst open in front of you.

To kiss you.

To throw you down on the mats and not talk for hours.

“I-I’m s-sorry.”

“No. No you’re not,” you says, full of sadness, your expression not changing to match your tone. “If you were, you’d have come to dinner. You’d have stabbed your fork into the salad before I’d have told you I want street food.”

You didn’t move, and neither does he. Your hand spreading over his chest, his hand still on your hip.

“You don’t let yourself enjoy anything, because what? Your dad was an asshole and your brother went to the moon?” You ask, head tilted. “Diego, I don’t give a shit if you’re number two, you’re number one for me. But you have to try. You have to try at least ten percent otherwise it’s just me, forcing you to be with me.”

He never feels forced. Not with you.

You’re sometimes the only thing which is good. Which isn’t fucked, tainted or ruined. You’re good, if not a bit too sweary and a bit too good at drinking. But, you’re… nice, and unwilling to let him settle.

“You’re m-my number o-one too.”

“Cool.”

“I mean i-it.”

“Nice.”

“Baby, c'mon?”

You sigh. “What, Diego?”

Diego. He’s Diego again.

He doesn’t smile, even if he wants too.

He doesn’t kiss you, even if he’s fighting every part of himself.

He just stares, using his other hand to cup your cheek. “I am sorry.”

“Salad at a fancy place too good for you?”

He smirked. “Yeah, kinda.”

“Good. Because it’s too fancy for me too.”

“So why we’re we even fucking going, baby?”

“Because,” you say, defiance in your tone, “it’s what normal people do. They don’t meet over a bad game of darts and several beers, and fuck on a boxing ring. They don’t fight a literal mugger with trained assassin-level knife skills a month after beginning to sleep together.”

Your shoulders sink, your expression softening. “They date, at restaurants who charge too much and hold hands across parks. And for a second, one tiny fucking moment, I wanted that for you. I wanted normal, meet-cute type romance before we grabbed whatever was in a cart and we fucked on my new sideboard.”

His thumb brushed over your cheek. “I’d have liked that.”

“You’d have loved that. But—“

“I’m sorry,” he says again, softer, more meaningful, “I’m s-s-sorry. I really am.”

“I’m still mad.”

“That’s okay.”

“You owe me a fancy salad.”

Smirking, he nods. “Baby, I’ll give you a salad bar if you want it.”

“I don’t like salad.”

“No?”

“No.”

Smirking, he cups your cheek with more purpose. “What do you want then, baby?”

He watches your eyes darken. "Oh."

"Oh, indeed. You have a lot of making up to do.”

#diego hargreeves x y/n #diego hargreeves x you #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves #diego #diego tua #tua ff #tua fanfic #tua diego #diego x reader #diego x you #tua diego x reader #tua diego fanfic

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thegeneralguy · 3 years

Text

A good role model

Hello! Thanks to @amalianetwork for helping me out with this story. Its a bit shorter than what I usually post on here, but it struck some heart strings inside of me. I hope you enjoy it.

Twitter | Blog

“Come on Matt! We’re going to be late for the festival!”

The excited shrieks came from a young child not older than ten years of age. His wavy blonde hair was encased in a blue baseball cap, and he was wearing an old button shirt. He was grabbing the hand from an older young man, pulling him forward with haste. Both boys looked very alike, age being the most differentiating factor between them.

“Ease up Cole, your number starts at seven. There’s plenty of time.”

“Yes, but I want to rehearse one time before the show. Mrs. Davis said all kids in our class had to meet an hour before to practice our song”

Matt advanced reluctantly, feeling uneasy in his attempt at formal attire. He adjusted his badly-knotted tie and tried his best in accommodating his oversized shirt. But he knew it was a necessary sacrifice, because this was supposed to be Cole’s “big night”. He would do anything for his little brother, even if it meant dressing as a buffon. The boys were rushing through the parking lot of the local theatre, amongst a sea of other families heading to the entrance. They entered the building and immediately headed backstage to deliver Cole to his class. Matt made sure his small bowtie was in place, but when he tried to take the cap from him, Cole swatted his hand away.

“Cole, you know you’ll get in trouble if you throw a fit over that cap again. All the kids in your class have to be dressed the same.”

Cole pouted and grabbed his head with both hands, securing it on his head.

“Please let me keep it. I’m scared to perform without it.”

“Okay you win. Just this one time though. You’re a big boy now, there are some rules you have to follow.”

“You’re the best Matt!”, said the little boy hugging his brother.

“Just remember to have lots of fun! I’ll be watching you from the front rows. And remember, once your act is over we gotta go.”

“That's not fair! Mrs. Davis is gonna take us all for pizza once the show is over.”

“I’m sorry C. You know Aunt Gertrude doesn’t like it when we go out late.”

“I don’t like Aunt Gertrude. She’s mean.”

Matt kept a straight face not to give a bad example, but he knew what his brother was talking about. Their aunt was a real menace sometimes. Especially when her rules were disobeyed.

“Don’t be like that buddy. Aunt Gertrude has been nice to us, so we have to obey the rules of her house. Besides, I’ll take you for pizza on the weekend. What do you say?”

“Yay! Thanks Matt. I’ll hurry up after the show, I promise. See you later!”

Cole then turned around and sprinted towards his group. Matt looked at his brother tenderly, remembering all they have gone through together. The blue cap was originally his, a gift from their father. They never had a lot to begin with, and after his parents were gone, the cap was one of the only mementos he had from them. He remembered hugging it terrified, as the police explained to him with gruesome detail for a twelve year old how his parents had been killed in a mugging. Cole had been only five at the time. Their aunt was their only living relative, so they were placed in her house. Cole couldn’t stop crying during the first night, so Matt gave him the blue cap and told him as long as he had it, his father would be there with him. Five years had passed, and the little boy still took the cap everywhere. Convincing Cole to take it off to wash it was a real hassle sometimes, but Matt managed. He was a good big brother after all.

Matt went to his seat and watched the recital in silence. Group after group they performed, excited families bursting in applause every time their kid went onstage. The young man was growing increasingly nervous, watching the minutes turn into an hour. The show was taking too long, which meant arriving at his aunt’s too late and having to deal with her wrath. He was lost in thought when suddenly Cole’s group was onstage. He cheered and applauded his little brother, who along with his classmates presented a potpourri of popular songs. He immediately recognized him due to the blue garment sticking out of the sea of white shirts. Once the number was done, he stood up from his seat and went to meet his brother backstage to take him to their aunt’s.

Their Aunt Gertrude was a solitary woman, preferring to live alone and far away from any other neighbor. The little house stood right at the edge of the woods, standing lonely amongst the dark trees. The car was parked on the driveway, so Matt knew immediately their aunt was home. He prepared mentally for the fit she was about to throw when she saw them coming in through the door. Once they made it inside, he sent Cole straight to his room and went into the living room, where his aunt was sitting on her usual chair watching TV.

“So, look who finally decided to show up. This isn’t a hotel you know.”, said the fat woman looking hatefully at the scrawny teenager.

“I know Aunt Gertrude. Cole had a school event he couldn’t miss, so we stayed out until late.”

The woman sneered at Matt, and then continued watching her show.

“You know misbehavior has consequences right? You were out past dinner time, so there won't be any dinner for you.”

Matt felt the rage coming up from his stomach. He disliked the woman a lot, but he knew she was the only reason the brothers were allowed to stay together. She knew that too, so she made sure to exploit that fact every time she could. He didn’t mind missing dinner, he was used to it. But Cole had to eat, or his stomach would hurt again and he wouldn't be able to sleep.

“I can miss out on dinner today and tomorrow if you want, but let Cole eat something. It was a tough day for him.”

“You should’ve thought that before breaking the rules. Rules are necessary, or else you will end up like your good for nothing dad. He got my sister killed, you know. Only a bad person does that.”

Matt tightened his fists so hard his nails dug into his skin causing some bleeding. His father was his aunt’s favorite subject, always belittling and berating him. But he was a good man, very hardworking. A real example for Matt. His only mistake was being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Don’t you dare talk about him…”, he grumbled quietly. His aunt let out a cruel cackle, and glared at him angrily.

“Or what? You are just like him, you know. A useless dead weight under my roof. But not for long. You got one more night. After that, you’re turning into an adult, which means you gotta earn yourself a life.”

Matt had been so busy with his brother that he had completely forgotten about his birthday the day after. His aunt had been telling him she was going to kick him out that same day, but he always thought she said that only to intimidate him. Thinking about leaving Cole with that monster alone sent a chill down his spine.

“Are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m joking you little asshole? As soon as you’re eighteen, you’re legally not my problem anymore. Besides, it’s good you learn how the world works. Not that your father ever taught you that. In fact, I think Cole was lucky to grow up without his bad example!”, said the woman laughing loudly. “Now, better get your shit ready. I’m calling farmer Joe tomorrow to see if he has some job for you. If you’re lucky he might even let you stay in the barn with the rest of his boys. Now, get out of my sight. My next show’s about to start.”

Matt just turned around and left completely speechless, hearing the loud music from the TV and his aunt laughing as he went upstairs to his room. Cole was already showered and wearing his pajamas, the blue cap still on his head. Matt sat down next to him on his bed, trying to keep his composure and not burst into tears.

“Listen Cole, I have to tell you something,'' he said, his voice faltering as he struggled to find the right words. “You know tomorrow is my birthday, right?”

“Of course! I wouldn’t forget. I even wrote it in my calendar to get you some chocolate.”, he said excitedly before realizing he just ruined the surprise. “Oh no, I just ruined your present.”

“No buddy, it's okay. You know I love chocolate.”, said Matt grabbing the little boy’s head. “But listen, tomorrow I’ll be eighteen. And that's a very special number. So special, that people invite you to participate in certain activities!”

“What do you mean?”, asked Cole with a puzzled look on his face.

“Well, farmer Joe has invited me to his special club on his land, so I’m very excited I can go now. There’s only one small problem, I have to go sleep there too so I can do everything the guys there do.”

Cole just stared at his brother, tears welling up behind his eyes.

“You’re gonna leave?”

“Don’t be sad buddy. This is a great opportunity for me! Besides, I’ll come to visit you every day, I promise.”

Cole threw himself at Matt, his little arms embracing him as strong as they could. Tears ran down his rosy cheeks, and he could barely articulate the words due to the knot in his throat.

“But I don’t want you to go! I don’t want to be alone in this house. I’m scared.”

“I know buddy, I know.”, said Matt hugging his little brother. “But listen, remember what I told you about that cap? As long as you have it, dad’s going to be here with you. And so will I.”

Both brothers embraced for hours, refusing to let each other go. Cole cried until he fell asleep, so Matt tucked him into bed and waited until it was late enough to go down and steal some food for the boy. His aunt went to bed just before midnight, so he had to wait until she was gone to go to the pantry. He was almost falling asleep when he heard the TV going off, and the heavy steps of his aunt going into her room. He hesitantly stepped out of their bedroom, and swiftly went down to get some food for Cole. His body was very light, so that helped him move silently on the wooden floor. He brought up some snacks, leaving them on Cole’s night table, completely missing the clock just striking midnight.

He went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Taking off the horrible oversized shirt he stared at himself in the mirror. He was practically just skin and bones, lacking the proper nutrition and exercise for a good development during puberty. His dirty blonde hair was pulled back on a bun, looking just a shade darker than his brother’s. His aunt was right, he was pathetic, scrawny and weak. Barely a fitting example for Cole. But he didn’t want his brother to grow up without him. It was already bad enough he had to grow up without a dad, only to have his big brother be taken away too. He wished that both of them could stay together. That he was enough for his little brother, so he could provide him with the life he deserved.

The lights in the bathroom flickered, and the window was suddenly opened by a strong gust of wind, startling Matt. He started to get lightheaded, grabbing the small sink to prevent himself from falling. “It’s probably hunger”, he said to himself. But the more seconds passed, the worse he felt. He started sweating cold, drops falling down his face and his pale body. He watched a shadow creep over his skin, thinking he was starting to faint from starvation. When he raised his hand to touch the darkness, rough bristles greeted his fingertips. He was growing hair, all over his body. He watched it get longer and thicker, a thick mat covering his chest, and crawling down his flat stomach painting a thick treasure trail on his skin. Tufts of hair poked out from under his arms, his sparse armpit hair getting far denser. The shadow then climbed up his neck, fully flourishing on his face to form a short beard. Matt felt its roughness with the palm of his hand, fully enthralled by the sensation.

He then felt his bones elongate, shooting him a few inches towards the roof and lengthening his limbs. He looked like that creature slender-something kids were so obsessed about. Once his skeleton finished its growth, the muscles followed suit. He felt incredible heat emanating from his body, as each muscle twitched and grew to enormous size. Size packed on his chest, fully forming two massive pillow-like pecs sticking out from his torso. His cleavage was so deep he could probably put his entire thumb in it, and probably crush it too if he squeezed hard. Muscle packed on his shoulders as well, growing like two bowling balls. It made him look monstrously wide, fully condemning him to a life of having to go through doors sideways. His arms surged with power and grew as well, fully surpassing the width his legs had before. Thick hairy pythons hung to each side of him, resting at an angle due to the thickness of his triceps. His back then rounded out like a shield and expanded into a hairy muscular landscape. The lats were so big they looked like the could fall off of him at any moment.

He heard his stomach grumble, as it blew forward sticking out just a few inches behind his chest. Thick abs could be seen on the curve of his belly. His ass blew his dress pants into oblivion, each cheek swelling like a Christmas turkey. The legs followed suit, thickening into titanic proportions, powerful enough to sustain such a heavy top. Even his feet grew a few sizes, fully completing his transformation. Matt just stared at his new body speechless, feeling control over each fiber. He flexed his big arms, and bounced his heavy chest. A deep chuckle left his throat, and he realized his voice grew much deeper as well. He was so entertained by his new figure, he missed the clumps of hair falling from his head. His hair thinned out a little bit, and shortened itself into a clean cut, contrasting with its previous unkempt image.

Matt looked like a new man. His kid used to tell him he looked the size of a barn, just like that Disney song he liked from the film with the talking furniture. He was very bad with names, but he knew what movies his son liked. Matt scratched his head, confused by the thought of having a child. He was only eighteen, barely old enough to have a kid. But a body like this couldn’t belong to a young kid. A body like this took years of dedication, of pain and sweat, of discipline. He looked like the perfect dad, strong enough to protect, and big enough to climb over like a jungle gym. Matt smiled looking at himself in the mirror. His features changed and rearranged themselves into those of a masculine man. His nose was bigger and his brow stuck further out. Even a cleft formed on his now square jaw. He looked tough, but also lovable.

The maelstrom of memories fully blew Matt’s mind away, turning him into a perfect dad. He felt his dick snake up under his belly, and his balls drop lower and heavier like a mature plume, virile enough to spread his seed wherever he wanted. The rush of testosterone triggered more changes in him. His muscles got denser, more lived in. Crow feet printed themselves next to his eyes, and his skin got rougher fully aging two full decades.

“I’m one sexy motherfucker.”, grunted Matt, flexing before the mirror. He dedicated years of hard work and discipline to his body, and it showed. He loved the tight feeling of a shirt about to burst due to his titanic arms, or how the buttons popped open on their own due to his heavy chest. But even his glorious physique wasn’t his most valuable treasure. That was his son.

Reality rearranged itself around Matt, as memories of Cole growing up with him changed into those of a father raising his son. He remembered how tiny he looked when he held him in his arms, or how scared he looked when Matt dropped him in kindergarten for the first time. He remembered the recitals, the little league games, the birthday parties, the nights with Cole on his bed due to a nightmare, the camping trips. Everything he did, and had, was for his son. He was happy to grow up next to him, so he could teach him about the same hard work and discipline he put into his own life. Hopefully, Cole would grow up to be a good man like his father. And with those genes, hopefully big and strong too.

When Matt came back to his senses, he was standing in a nicely furnished bathroom. He adjusted the glasses on his face, and checked himself one last time before going out. The short sleeved shirt looked perfectly fitted to his big body, his arms almost ripping the tight sleeves apart. He came out of the bathroom to find the luxurious interior of a suburban home. He wanted his kid to have all his necessities covered. The memory of the tiny house in the woods and the monster within fully erased from existence.

“Come on Cole, you don’t wanna miss out on a good pizza, do you?”, he shouted, his deep bass shaking the foundations of the house.

“I’m coming dad!”

Young Cole came rushing down the stairs. His blonde hair shined brighter, and his blue eyes sparkled with excitement. He took his coat and headed towards the front door, where his dad was waiting for him. Matt noticed the small blue cap on the little table next to the door.

“Aren’t you gonna wear your cap?”, he said, handing it to his son. Cole just smiled at his dad, and turned the cap away.

“I’m not scared anymore dad. I don’t need it.”

Matt just smiled and opened the door for Cole. The happy family then headed out into the sunshine to live the rest of their lives together. Nothing would be able to separate them.

#musclegrowth #daddy #hairy hunk #reality change

180 notes · View notes

hetalia-reacts · 3 years

Note

PLATONIC HEADCANINS !! PLATONIC HEADCANONS !! HOW ABOUT- a doting touchy-feely PLATONC reader with the allies?? Friendship headcanons :3 (do Axis if u can but PLEASE don't do that if you are tired or busy PLEASE don't ♡♡:))

America

I feel Alfred is also a bit of a touchy-feely kind of friend too

Especially with best friends and whatnot

Is either always at your house or telling you to come to his

He just wants to watch movies or play video games with you

Heck he just wants to exist in the same room with his bestie

Will Alfred wake you up at 3am to do something with him?

Yes

Y’all will either be doing mundane things like going on a store run or literally committing a crime

There is N O in between

Since the both of you are both touchy-feely and likely clinging to each other you bet you’ve gotten the same question 1000x

“Are you two dating?”

You both either go for the ewww hell no or a straight faced but sarcastic yes we totally are

But it’s 50/50 if you both actually go for the same response

It’s a game at this point to see if you guys can read each other’s minds

You guys usually make an awkward situation for the person that asked because one will say yes and the other says eww and neither of you will back down and explain that you guys are just sarcastic and teasing jerks lmao

England

Arthur isn’t the most touchy person so having a friend that is can be tough sometimes

He does appreciate the hugs and physical comfort/support but he just gets kinda awkward

Well at first anyways

When you are certified besties he’s used to it and one can often find him gravitating towards you to just be close

Will never admit he likes it though sorry he’s a hard head

No one dares ask either of y’all that dreaded question though because they don’t want to deal with his sarcasm and the lecture that’s sure to follow

Arthur is a chill bestie though

Often invites you over to just be together

He doesn’t care if it’s just to talk, do something, or simply enjoy the presence of someone else

Help him cook maybe?

Even if you suck at cooking he enjoys attempting to cook with someone else

And that also means having fun in the kitchen and being complete dorks the whole time

And also having to order food or eat a sandwich because unless you can cook it’s going to be inedible

Will make you watch and read Sherlock, even if he has to be there or read it to you it’s happening

France

Francis is very touchy as a friend unless he knows someone dislikes it

So having a bestie that is like him is perfect

People probably think y’all are glued together at this point

No one would ever think y’all are dating either because Francis acts completely different with his bestie than a love interest

He’s kind of a mean ass ngl

He likes to jokingly bicker and fight with you

And definitely likes to cling and be dramatic with you to the point it’s annoying to others

Francis drags you with him everywhere

His house, the gym, the store, England’s house, etc

He cant just go alone anymore it would feel wrong like he’s forgetting something

If you’re bad at dressing or have no style he’s got your back

Literally shops for you but also constantly says things like you’ll never look as good as him

You are also one fo the few that will ever see Francis get serious or down in the dumps

It’s just something he doesn’t wear on his sleeve and reserves for those closest to him

Canada

Matthew is not used to having people cling to him

He’s not really used to having people notice him so having a someone that’s his bestie, that notices him the most, and always clings and talks to him is a strange and wild concept

Doesn’t mind the touchiness and honestly rather prefers it

He’s kinda touch starved :/

Matthew is likely always at your house with Kumajirou

Movie marathon and cuddles yo

Also as his closest friend you come to see his ‘secret’ side of being sarcastic and a complete savage

This boy does not hold back with you either

Maybe at first he did but when he realized y’all are in this friend stuff for life he won’t censor or sugar coat things if it’s not necessary

Makes you play and watch hockey with him

Will teach you everything if you know nothing

Matthew is the type of friend to invite you to his families holidays/vacations and come to yours

He knows and is cool with basically all of your family

I mean who could hate or dislike this polite boy?

Russia

Ivan is not used to friendship either as people usually tremble in fear before him

so having a friend that is touchy on top of having a close friend can be a bit much at times

But he’s happy!

He loves the hugs! Loves the contact! Loves having a friend!

Loves cuddles most of all he won’t lie, Ivan loves the feeling of comfort and support when you cuddle him

People do often assume you two are dating because most people assume someone would only put up with him if they were in love with him

Neither of you mind the rumors since y’all know the truth

Ivan is the sweetest friend

He shows up unannounced with food or groceries all the time

Always helping you out without being asked

Like oh your washing machine broke I fixed it/bought you a new one already or oh you suck at this let me explain it and teach it to you

Does this completely unprompted

He’s always over at yours or always inviting you over to his

Wants to do classic friend things?

Like things he sees in movies and shows that friends do a lot or things he’s overheard from others

Late night store runs, hanging out at parks, showing up unannounced to crash at your place, those kind of things

You’re the only person he confides in, you know all his secrets, his sadness, everything

Honestly, Ivan is the person who needs a touchy-feely friend the most out of everyone

China

Yao is happy about having a touchy friend but will always play like he hates it

Not in like a tsundere “I totally d-don’t need friends baka” kind of way but a really dramatic “omg I can’t believe you’re so obsessed with me haha loser” kind of way

He’s only joking of course and apologizes if you get hurt by his teasing or he crosses a line

Only a brave few would try and ask if y’all are more than friends

They have to listen to a lecture with an angry Yao explaining that people can be close and not want to date and how immature and inappropriate they’re being

Totally the type of friend that mothers you

Constantly says you look skinnier than last time and forces you to eat because he’s worried for you

Will not sugar coat anything for you

If you ask for his advice then I’m sorry but you’re gonna get it even if it makes you cry or get mad

Yao wants you over at his constantly

He’s lonely man ㅠㅠ

And he doesn’t want to leave the comfort of his house

Expect a lot of his gifts for your birthday/holiday to be cute plushies he found

Germany

Ludwig act differently depending on when y’all become besties

Like before Italy, he’s nervous, confused, and slightly annoyed by all the touching and notion of being besties

If it’s after Italy he’s used to all the touchiness and has figured out how to show his friendship to you in other ways

Like making you things! Or simply inviting you to hang out!

Ludwigs is always gonna be a bit awkward though

Always shy about hanging out and inviting you over

Many people assume you two to be dating because of his awkwardness but he is the first to start defending your friendship and it’s pure nature

He develops a sixth sense and now answers people’s questions about the two of you without even looking at them

He can just feel the nasty vibes

Asks you to do mundane things with him

Like shopping or even chores

Asks you to come bake with him a lot

It was embarrassing at first since not many people know his love of making sweets but he’s over that now

I know I say this a lot, but please work out with him _(:3 」∠)_

My guy just wants a work out buddy, a spotter, a n y t h i n g just please pick up the smallest dumbbell and pretend you want to work out

If you ask for advice expect him to be straight to the point about it but comfort you afterwards

Italy

Feliciano is a god tier bestie if your touchy-feely

Doesn’t matter if that touchy-feely emotionally and/or physically he’s down for both

Like please hold his hand, hug him, give him head pats, cheek kisses or any form affection really

No one even thinks anything of it, it’s just Feliciano being himself

If anyone did ask if you were dating he might get self-conscious of his actions, he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or like he was trying to be something more with you

He’s easy to calm down though

Feliciano invites you out all the time

Restaurants, wine tastings, farmers markets, gondola rides, just about anything he can think of that he thinks you would like to do

Always at your house

He eats all of your food too, but he makes you some in return so it’s okay

Gives really good advice

Like for his bestie he’ll get super serious and thoughtful about your issues, even spending days thinking of solutions

Tries not to sugar coat things for you but ends up doing just that

He doesn’t want to make his friend cry or even more anxious

Will comfort you though if you are upset about anything he’s said and apologizes profusely for it too

Japan

Kiku is overall one of the ones who needs a touchy bestie but is the most challenging with receiving or giving the touchiness back

He’s a man who enjoys personal space and alone time, so he’s honestly surprised anyone considers him a true best friend

He knows he can get a bit feisty and shut himself away when he gets uncomfortable and that makes it hard to truly befriend him

But he’s really happy you stick around and deal with his awkwardness and rejection of your affection

Tries his hardest to at least accept your friendly affection

No one would dare ask if you two are flirting or together because my god it’s taking so much of his effort to just sit less than 2 feet away from you at the start so they don’t want to ruin his progress by making it awkward

Kiku definitely asks for your opinion on anime and manga

Gets into heated debates with you over certain ones

Is shy but asks you to come over a lot

Likes to have tea and snacks with you while you guys talk

Y’all can talk for literally a whole day

You sleepover a lot, he insists and even got you your own futon with a cool custom cover

Gifts you a kotatsu at some point because he loves them and he thinks you should enjoy them all the time too

When he gets over a lot of shyness he loves when you do simple forms of affection with him

Like ruffling his hair or holding onto his arm or even just leaning against him

He enjoys those the most since they aren’t too physical and mentally taxing on him and it still let you physically express your friendship with him like you love to do

If you ask for advice either get prepared for a harsh wake up call or a stumbling mess of words

It’s 50/50 if Kiku gives you the stone cold truth or tries to spare your feelings

As your friend he thinks you deserve the truth but he doesn’t want his harsh advice to ruin your mood or make you hate him

111 notes · View notes

shirophantomvox · 3 years

Text

Hold My Hand- Illumi x Reader

OMG thank you! My first international fan! Thank you for this wonderful prompt! This was requested by @illucilfer .

Summary: Today’s story takes place in a 1950s diner by a frequently used Interstate; Interstate 95. We know this dinner for its delicious hamburgers, hot dogs, milkshakes, and jukebox records, but every night one Patreon never returns home. A few men who were angry about your recent arrest have shot you both. As you both stare at each other exchanging mental signals, everyone around you tries to help you to the hospital. Y/N is narrating the story. I seem to have fewer grammar errors that way. FYI, Bold and italicized font will reference a thought or flashback.

Story Navigation

Let’s get started!

The leaves have turned bright yellow and orange, fluttering every second to the ground. I could hear little children a while away laughing and playing in the community park; throwing up the leaves, jumping into piles, and throwing them at each other. The smell of freshly baked donuts brightened everyone’s mood. All you had to do was take one bite and your face would brighten and crack a smile. Dining at Cupid’s Kitchen will always have your heart and interest.

Interstate 95 was always heavy with traffic during this time of year. The folks of Dallas celebrated mulch annually. The “Mulch Fest” was a street fair that stretched 1.5 miles to the east that contained music, drinks, farmer panels, homemaker Q&A, and other activities that southerners enjoy. Illumi and I are only here because of an unfinished assignment. We have worked night and day for countless days trying to catch Jack “Da Hamor” Gilberton, but he was nowhere to be found. Eventually, I allowed my anger to get the best of me and made the executive decision to take a day off. I barred Illumi from searching, tracking, or any form of hunting for our target. The life of a bounty hunter and an assassin can thrill, but it can drive you insane if you allow it.

Ironically, Illumi and I both enjoy fall. It is perfect for cuddling (although he acts as if he’s too good to cuddle), wearing creative hoodies, going to pumpkin patches, and attending apple orchids. I tend to “lose my cool” when we have dates there. When I was a child, my family did not go on trips like these because they were over an hour away from our home and I had 5 siblings. But once I made money for myself, I made it my mission to go to one at least 5 times out of the year. Illumi enjoys the different fudge, hot cider, and candy apples. He almost broke a tooth on one!

“Say cheese snag-a’-tooth!”

“Stop it. It’s not funny!”

“It is! Could you imagine if you lost your two front teeth? You’d look almost adorable as you did in the 1st grade!”

“How did you know about that?”

“Duh! It happens to everyone, but your mother showed me the pictures, of course.”

“Curses!”

Illumi’s sweet tooth is just like Killua’s; both have a weakness for chocolate. Except, Killua will admit defeat while his older brother keeps denying it.

Cupid’s Dinner has been in Dallas for over 55 years. A black woman established it in 1945 by the name of Mary-Lou Benson. Since then, Mary’s family has been running the shop, making sure all of her customers are happy with the service. During the turn of each season, Cupid’s Dinner gives its customer's food options based on the season. The fall options include donuts, candy apples, different flavored cider, fudge, and hot coffee specials. As much as everything looked appetizing, I could not order it all. Our server, Little Ben, placed our drinks in front of us and handed us the menu. I could tell he was happy with his line of work, just as I was to be with Illumi.

“You all take your time. I’ll be back in five.”

Ilumi glanced on both sides of the room, scanning for Jack Gilberton, already forgetting the agreement we established.

“Illumi, what are you doing?”

“Huh?”

“You keep looking around like you’ve seen Da Hamor. Eat your donut and relax, sweetheart.”

“I cannot relax. I must stay on alert.”

“If I can relax, so can you. It’s not that hard.”

“Fine. If I die, it’s on your head… literally.”

The jingling bell rang almost every second when a customer walked in. It was a joy to everyone's ears; the spirit of Mary Lou-Benson was alive and well. An overwhelming feeling of love seemed to have overtaken the diner. After examining the bistro for quite some time now, each customer had been using their cellphones at the table instead of chatting with their families. Many traditional families hated that about this generation but they should be open to new traditions forming. Illumi dislikes using cell phones or tablets at the table unless we use them for missions. He has emphasized how rude it is to be surfing the web about utter nonsense while someone is speaking. This is a pet peeve of his, something I’ll never step on his toe about. Although I think that is overdoing it, I respect it.

Little Ben served our table quickly, leaving us with two dishes of a classic chicken sandwich, kettle chips, one chocolate, and vanilla milkshake. Milkshakes were my weakness; I nearly foam at the mouth when I see one. When I found out that Illumi had NEVER had a milkshake, I almost fainted.

“No. I’ve never had a milkshake.”

“Huh? You’re missing out, pal.”

“What’s the big deal? Isn’t it frozen milk?”

“Not just frozen milk. You can add many flavors, toppings, and whip cream!”

“Well, then. You’ll have to show me sometime.”

We thanked Little Ben for his service as he clocked out for the day.

“I have to admit these sandwiches look very appetizing.”

“You can say that again!”

Before I nibbled on my sandwich, I wanted to take a moment and adore the man before me; Illumi Zoldyck. A man full of mysteries, professionalism, skill, and talent. His enormous eyes were immersed in the large pieces of chicken in between the sourdough bread. He licked his index finger vigorously; allowing the homemade honey mustard to drip enough from the bread to the plate in between licks. Just the sight of him actually relaxing for once has blown me away. For once, Illumi Zoldyck could be himself and I had the privilege to witness it.

“Um… why are you staring at me? Do I have food on my face,” he asked; violently wiping his mouth off with a provided cloth napkin.

“Oh! Ha, ha; no reason. I wanted to see your reaction after drinking your milkshake. That’s all.”

“Why? It’s just a drink.”

“Whatever you say, babe.”

“Babe? What happened to LuLu or Illumi-Lu?”

I gasped and pretended to be surprised… although I was a little.

“I did not know that you liked those pet names. I assumed it mortified you.”

“Who told you that? That never rolled off my tongue. “What I said was” — He bent closer to the table and to me; glancing both to the right and left to ensure no wandering ears were around — “I prefer Illumi-Lu to be said in the bedroom and LuLu when we’re alone, like how we are right now.”

“Aww…. ok,” I yelled in excitement.

“Don’t blow it out of proportion, alright?”

“Yes, sir.”

As we ate, Illumi hummed along to the tune that played a few times on the restaurant's jukebox. Illumi and I were born in the mid-90s, but listening to 50s music was a part of his aesthetic. I was told that he had an “old soul” which sounds romantic at first until you realize how men were during that era. His raging temper was a noticeable toxic trait, but it has drastically improved. Nonchalantly sipping on his milkshake and then eating more of his chips, he grazed the soft part of his left hand over mine as he continued to hum.

“What’s the name of this song? You seem to know it rather well.”

“Put your head on my shoulder, a famous song from the 60s. I heard my parents sing it once and since then, they have addicted me to it. Do you like it?”

“Yes, in fact, I love it. All of this is—”

“A surprise to you? Well, enjoy it while it lasts because once I find Jack Gilberton, this side of me will hide for a while.”

“Understood.”

Damn! I was just feeling connected to him again!

The music swelled; everyone seemed to be happy. Not an evil spirit insight to disrupt this beautiful moment. For once in my life, my raven-haired beauty actually held my hand tight, stole a few of my barbecue kettle chips, and gazed into my eyes harmlessly. His lips brushed against both of my hands, ever so lightly placing kisses on both sides of them. Illumi’s gentle smile warmed my heart as my lingering thoughts of hope stayed intact.

The welcoming bell jingled again. Two men in black leather jackets, stone-washed blue jeans, and tattooed all over their arms came into the diner. The men seemed to be bikers who had just left their own “spot” but one thing struck me as they continued to walk towards the staff. They both wore sunglasses when the sunset for the day. Not to mention that the lights were not dim in the diner and the moon was as bright as ever. The second man had his eyes glued in my direction. My heart beat faster as I wondered if Jack Gilberton had found us. Could you imagine?

Put your head on my shoulder

Hold me in your arms, baby

Squeeze me oh-so-tight

Show me you love me too

I am used to coming in contact with enemies on my hit list, but given Jack’s criminal history; I felt like I may not survive his attacks. Illumi will survive, but just barely. Both men approached the checkout, crowing over Little Ben’s sister. She was a short woman but full of might, and I could tell by the shakiness in her voice she was frightened. I wanted to step in so badly, but I didn't want to blow my cover just in case it was, in fact, Jack Gilberton. After I assume, ordering food, both men stood by the entrance, blocking it from others from entering and leaving. The sound of their old, beat up-lighters crackled as one lit a joint and the other lit a cigarette. This horrid smell ruined the atmosphere because they were not in a designated area and it drowned out the lovely aroma of the food being served.

“If you gentlemen would like to smoke, you need to go outside. There is no smoking in here.”

“What? You think you’re better than me because you don’t smoke?”

“Huh? I never said that, sir. I asked for you to go outside. Not all of our customers can deal with it.”

They did not move a muscle. The sound of their mucous laughter made everyone’s stomach turn. They laughed at the young girl and called her many slurs. Little Ben’s sister didn’t flinch, nor did she cry; she remained still, staring at the men. I had just enough of their obnoxious behavior.

“If you do not leave, I will call the police.”

“The hell you won’t.”

Put your lips next to mine, dear

Won't you kiss me once, baby?

He drew a gun from his left side. He aimed it at Little Ben’s sister and demanded that she emptied the drawer. She refused. Her stone, iron will reminded me of Illumi; no matter the circumstance, they remained intact, determined to fight until the end. Bravery is always encouraged, but too much will cause your life to be taken away. Little Ben’s sister grabbed a fake till that they kept under the real one and threw it at both men. Fake money fluttered everywhere in the small diner, mimicking confetti. Gunshots rang in all directions as the imbeciles recklessly shot, aiming for Little Ben’s sister. Everyone threw themselves on the ground to avoid being shot, but luck cannot spread itself throughout an entire room of people. A young child, an older man, and another worker were shot in their lower leg. Blood reflected from the ground as it continued to seep. Ignoring injured civilians is a jackass move and continuing to deny the fact would prove that the oath I pledge to meant nothing. Sure, bounty hunters must remain hidden, but if someone is injured, I must help them.

The child was lying lifeless on the polished marble floor. He would not respond to my shaking or my silent whispers. When I rolled him over, my heart broke into a million pieces. This child had no chance of survival; a few bullets struck his chest, one just inches away from his heart. A tear rolled down my cheek.

“Why must the good die young,” I whispered to myself.

“... Because snitches get stitches.”

Before I could gain sight of who stated this utterly corny response, I felt an overwhelming amount of pain in my lower back. It felt like a million tiny needles were jabbed so far through my skin that they entered my intestine. I could still hear, but my body would not move. I tried and tried, but my brain would not signal my legs.

Move! Move, damn it!

It’s odd; I could hear myself talk, but my body would not move at all. The sound of another thudding body made my mind jump. My heart had already been pounding enough to try to resuscitate my organs to move, but a familiar semi-blurring sight of none other than Mr. Illumi Zoldyck cleared my sight. My brain went wild. I didn’t know if Illumi died or if he became paralyzed, but one thing is for sure. We finally made eye contact that felt special; something I hadn’t felt since the day I met him. Our contact felt like magnets; an unbreakable bond. Suddenly, my icy hand felt warmth around my palm and fingers. Illumi simultaneously fell in a way that connected our hands. Our unbreakable bond, the warmth of his fingers laying on top of mine, and the gaze we shared somehow made me feel like it was just the two of us alone. I could hear his thoughts loud and clear; thoughts that came from the heart.

“Please help me. Before it’s too late, LuLu,” I cried, thinking I was going insane. “I don’t want to leave if it means leaving you behind.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.”

“Please! I want to live a life. Life as a bounty hunter, build a support system to our children, and a good lover is all I want to be.”

“You are a warrior and so am I. We have been through worse. This is nothing.”

Mere eye contact is all we need to exchange wandering conversations. The bond that we’ve created is something so strong that I haven’t realized it until now. The warmth emitted from his loose grasp seems to lose its effectiveness. It blurred my vision beyond recognition, leaving Illumi as a near figment of my imagination.

“Oh no. I guess this is it.”

My vision darkened. Illumi was slipping away as my lingering thoughts almost made my heart give out from exhaustion. I was ready to accept my fate, but it seemed like fate had other plans. My vision was still darkening by the second, but my sense of touch remained there. Smooth fingers outline my arms, torso, and chest. I heard muffled voices yelling and screaming about calling for assistance, but I didn’t care if they came or not. I made peace with my life’s end. Bit by bit, my breathing slowed down, but my sense of touch remained heightened. I felt a rubber glove touch my face and neck, examining it for any damage.

The jukebox continued to play Illumi’s favorite song, Put Your Head on my Shoulder. I remembered the day I laid my head on his shoulder; boy, what an endearing moment that was. It was something I took for granted, something I should have savored, for I never knew that this moment would have happened. The song grew muffled by the second verse. That verse repeated every time I tried to force myself to take what felt like my last gaze at my raven-haired beauty.

Just a kiss goodnight, maybe

You and I will fall in love (you and I will fall in love)

-FIN.

A/N: Since you’ve made it to the end, I’ll say something. The reader did not die in the end. They were later revived at the hospital.

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2tired2study · 3 years

Text

hi! i’ve recently finished the picture of dorian gray so let’s go over my favorite quotes (in order from the ones that appear in the book first to last)

if they know nothing of victory, they are at least spared the knowledge of defeat

being natural is simply a pose, and the most irritating pose i know

and as for believing things, i can believe anything, provided that it is quite incredible

when our eyes met, i felt that i was growing pale. a curious sensation of terror came over me. i knew that i had come face to face with someone whose mere personality was so fascinating that, if i allowed it to do so, it would absorb my whole nature, my whole soul, my very art itself

he, too, felt that we were destined to know each other

laughter is not at all a bad beginning for a friendship, and it is by far the best ending for one

a man cannot be too careful in the choice of his enemies

i like persons better than principles, and i like persons with no principles better than anything else in the world

every day. i couldn’t be happy if i didn’t see him every day. he is absolutely necessary to me

he is all my art to me now

it is only the intellectually lost who ever argue

and the mind of a thoroughly well-informed man is a dreadful thing

there is no such thing as a good influence, mr gray. all influence is immoral; immoral from the scientific point of view

he becomes an echo of someone else’s music

but the bravest man among us is afraid of himself

nothing can cure the soul but the senses, just as nothing can cure the senses but the soul

some day, when you are old and wrinkled and ugly, when thought has seared your forehead with its lines, and passion branded your lips with its hideous fires,you will feel it, you will feel it terribly

man is many things, but he is not rational

examinations, sir, are pure humbug from beginning to end. if a man is a gentleman, he knows quite enough, and if he is not a gentleman, whatever he knows is bad for him

behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic

there was something fascinating in this son of love and death

really! and where do bad americans go to when they die?... they go to america

well, the way of paradoxes is the way of truth

all i want now is to look at life. you may come and look at it with me, if you care to

punctuality is the thief of time

it is only the sacred things that are worth touching

when one is in love, one always begins by deceiving ones self, and one always ends by deceiving others

there is always something infinitely mean about other peoples tragedies

how different he was now than the shy frightened boy he had met in basil hallwards studio! his nature had developed like a flower, had borne blossoms of scarlet flame. out of its secret hiding-place had crept his soul, and desire had come to meet it on the way

it is personalities, not principles, that move the age

people are very fond of giving away what they need most themselves

he lives the poetry that he cannot write. the others write the poetry that they dare not realize

human life—that appeared to him the one thing worth investigating

to note the curious hard logic of passion, and the emotional coloured life of the intellect—to observe where they had met, and where they separated, at what point they were in unison, and at what point they were at discord—there was a delight in that! what matter was the cost? one could never pay too high a price for any sensation

with his beautiful face, and his beautiful soul, he was a thing to wonder at. it was no matter how it all ended, or was destined to end. he was like one of those gracious figures in a pageant or a play, whose joys seem to be remote from one, but whose sorrows stir ones sense of beauty, and whose wounds are like red roses

the senses could refine, and the intellect could degrade

all that it really demonstrated was that our future would be the same as our past, and that the sun we had done once, and with loathing, we would do many times, and with joy

it often happened that when we thought we were experimenting on others we were really experimenting on ourselves

the joy of a caged bird was in her voice

she was free in her prison of passion

i love him because he is like what love himself should be.

he was like a common gardener walking with a rose

he had the dislike of being stared at, which comes on geniuses late in life and never leaves the commonplace

to be in love is to surpass ones self

my wonderful lover, my god of graces

i wish i had, for as sure as there is a god in heaven, if he ever does you any wrong, i shall kill him

whenever a man does a thoroughly stupid thing, it is always from the noblest motives

i don’t want to see dorian tied to some vile creature, who might degrade his nature and ruin his intellect

we are not sent into the world to air our moral prejudices

and unselfish people are colourless. they lack individuality

you are much better than you pretend to be

of course, it is sudden—all really delightful things are

he is not like other men. he would never bring misery upon any one. his nature is too fine for that

but i am afraid i cannot claim my theory as my own. it belongs to nature, not to me

no civilized man ever regrets a pleasure, and no uncivilized man ever knows what a pleasure is

there was a gloom over him

he felt that dorian gray would never again be to him all that he had been in the past

any one you love must be marvellous

it is not good for ones morals to see bad acting

there are only two kinds of people who are really fascinating—people who know absolutely everything, and people who know absolutely nothing

you taught me what reality really is

you had made me understand what love really is

you are more to me than all art can ever be

there is always something ridiculous about the emotions of people whom one has ceased to love

a faint echo of his love came back to him

we live in an age when unnecessary things are our only necessities

when we blame ourselves, we feel that no one else has a right to blame us

i cant bear the idea of my soul being hideous

one can always be kind to people about whom one cares nothing

nothing makes one so vain as being told that one is a sinner

it is only shallow people who require years to get rid of an emotion

you were the most unspoiled creature in the whole world

of you wish me never to look at your picture again, i am content. i have always you to look at

from the moment i met you, your personality had the most extraordinary influence over me. i was dominated, soul, brain, and power, by you

i grew jealous of every one to whom you spoke. i wanted to have you all to myself. i was only happy when i was with you

i only knew that i had seen perfection face to face

i grew more and more absorbed in you

you are made to be worshipped

in every pleasure, cruelty has its place

but it was to teach man to concentrate himself upon the moments of life that is itself but a moment

out of the unreal shadows of the night comes back the real life that we had known. we have to resume it where we left off, and there steals over us a terrible sense of the necessity for the continuance of energy in the same wearisome round of stereotyped habits, or a wild longing, it nat be, that our eyelids might open some morning upon a world that had been refashioned anew in the darkness for our pleasure, a world in which things would have fresh shapes and colours, and be changed, or have other secrets, a world in which the past would have little or no place, or survive, at any rate, in no conscious form of obligation or regret, the remembrance of even joy having its bitterness and the memories of pleasure their pain

yet, as had been said of him before, no theory of life seemed to him to be of any importance compared with life itself

he saw that there was no mood of the mind that had not its counterpart

art, like nature, has her monsters

is insincerity such a terrible thing? i think not. it is merely a method by which we can multiply our personalities

and mind you don’t talk about anything serious. nothing is serious nowadays. at least nothing should be

i am tired of myself tonight. i should like to be someone else

sin is a thing that writes itself across a mans face

you forget that we are in the native land of the hypocrite

that is the reason why i want you to be fine. you have not been fine

you have a wonderful influence. let it be for good, not for evil

i wonder do i know you? before i could answer that, i should have to see your soul

my god! don’t tell me that you are bad, and corrupt, and shameful

so you think it is only god who sees the soul, basil? draw that curtain back, and you will see mine

each of us has heaven and hell in him, basil

you are the one man who is able to save me

don’t speak about those days, dorian—they are dead... the dead linger sometimes

lord henry, i am not at all surprised that the world says that you are extremely wicked

life is a great disappointment

i like men who have a future and women who have a past

moderation is a fatal thing. enough is as bad as a meal. more than enough is as good as a feast

you always want to know what one has been doing. i always want to forget what i have been doing

his soul, certainly, was sick to death

he was prisoned in thought. memory, like a horrible malady, was eating his soul away

ones days were too brief to take the burden of another’s errors on ones shoulders

it is a sad truth, but we have lost the faculty of giving lovely names to things

to define is to limit

to be popular one must be a mediocrity

romance lives by repetition, and repetition converts an appetite into an art

i am searching for peace

the appeal to antiquity is fatal to us who are romanticists

sick with a wild terror of dying, and yet indifferent to life itself

horror seemed once more to lay its hand upon his heart

how terrible it was to think that conscience could raise such fearful phantoms

he had a wild adoration for you and that you were the dominant motive of his art

when you and he ceased to be great friends, he ceased to be a great artist

if a man treats life artistically, his brain is his heart

art has a soul, but that man had not

the soul is a terrible reality

to get back my youth i would do anything in the world, except take exercise, get up early, or be respectable

but a chance tone of colour in a room or a morning sky, a particular perfume that you had once loved and that brings subtle memories with it, a line from a forgotten poem that you had come across again, a cadence from a piece of music that you had ceased to play—i tell you, dorian, that it is on things like these that our lives depend

life has been your art

the books that the world calls immoral are books that show the world it’s own shame

the world is changed because you are made of ivory and gold. the curves of your lips rewrite history

it was the living death of his own soul that troubled him

as it had killed the painter, so it would kill the painters work, and all that that meant. it would kill the past, and when that was dead, he would be free

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peralta-guaranteed · 3 years

Note

can you write something base on this incorrect quote? https://burnonyou.tumblr.com (stealing anons idea)

Amy's questioning "Babe?" called into the dark, but definitely populated apartment (the randomly thrown shoes and leather jacket over the dining chair are a dead give away) is only answered by a deep groan from the bedroom, one that sounds muffled through pillows, so she's not surprised when she finds Jake face-down on the mattress.

What's confusing is that he's still fully dressed, and clearly not trying to get to sleep, his hands balling up the blanket underneath him in frustration as he barely lifts his head when she sits down next to him and starts sifting through his curls.

"What happened?" Amy asks, and he lets out another groan.

"I am the most embarassing person in the world."

"Sometimes, yes." She smiles, because she can tell despite all the signs that this isn't as much of an episode as it seems. She knows him by now - knows how to read his overplayed shock and drama from the actual hurt and sorrow he hides so well. "What did you do?"

"I ran into Holt at the coffee shop, and he was reading this book, and I recognised it from your nightstand, so I asked him about it." Jake still mumbles into the pillow, and Amy almost forgets to listen as she feels a jolt of excitement about the knowledge that she and the Captain are currently delving deep into the same philosophical treatise she's been devouring after work.

"That doesn't sound embarassing."

"No, but he was like, really getting into it. I thought I'd get a short comment with five words I don't understand like always, but he started explaining it and talking about the last chapter and stuff, and then I was sitting down with him with my coffee and he just kept talking."

"Babe, that all sounds nice." Amy busies herself with one of Jake's longer curls, ignoring the tiniest bit of jealousy that Jake got Holt to 'geek out' over a book she herself was reading, but she could remedy that easily by mentioning it during their next meeting or something. She'd get her moment too.

"It was. It was really nice. We had, like, a whole moment. I kinda got into the book too. Because he liked it so much. It was cool."

Jake sighs, deeply, and Amy feels him tense under her hand.

"And then I called him dad."

"You've done that before, it's not that bad. I think he finds it more funny than embarassing."

"No, but this was different." Jake finally turns around, curls into a little ball as he presses his face against her thigh, and she resumes scratching along his temple down to his neck. "It was like, really personal. Way too much. Like, there was this moment, and then I went and did the stupid emotional baggage thing, and it ruined it all."

Amy can only smile as she imagines her Golden Retriever boyfriend in all his excited, tail-wagging happiness intently listening to Holt explaining something, getting sucked into the story as much as he always does when someone is really passionate about something. She sees them in that coffee shop she knows so well - Holt always sits in the same corner, too - talking and nodding and spurning each other on, and something tells her that there's nothing embarassing or moment-ruining about Jake's word association blunder. Not that it really was one - the few ‘Dad’s that have escaped him before where more mindless than anything, but she knows well enough that they were all meant with the same feeling, even if Jake wouldn’t be too happy to admit it to himself or anyone else.

"I really don't think you messed up, Jake." She tries to gently calm him. "It sounds like it fit the moment, anyway."

Jake only groans again as he presses his face even harder against her jeans.

-*-

“Raymond?” Kevin asks with hesitation, having found no trace of his husband in the kitchen or the dining room, where he’d usually expect to find him at this hour of the evening. But he’s been enarmored with the book he’d recommended to him a week ago, and so it is not quite as surprising to find him in the reading room. What is surprising is that he is not reading, the mentioned tome lying on the desk beside him instead, Cheddar at his feet, and his face in a clear state of a very hard to read emotion.

“Are you alright?”

Holt’s initial reaction is to apologise, as he is won’t to do when he’s bothering someone with an emotional outburst, until he remembers that he’s facing his husband, the only person in the world who he’s not ashamed to be emotional in front of, so he only shakes his head.

“I am afraid you will find me quite a mess tonight, Kevin.”

“What happened?” Kevin kneels down to pet Cheddar, who has dutifully trodded over to him for greetings, but not taking his eyes off of Holt, who sighs.

“Peralta met me at the coffee shop today, during my usual after work coffee break before the drive home.”

“He didn’t upset you, did he?”

“No.” Holt shakes his head, then leans it against his palm, a thinking pose that is rare to see and never fails to incite just the lightest spark of desire in Kevin when he gets to witness his partner so vulnerable and attractive at the same time. “Quite the opposite. He asked me about the book you recommended.”

“He’s surely not reading it.”

“No, it seems that Santiago is.”

“Ah.” Kevin nods as he gets up again, Cheddar returning to his seat at Holt’s slippered feet. That makes far more sense - he’d thought it might interest the young detective, actually, and had been thinking about sending her a message about the book, but then considered that their relationship was not yet at the level where one could simply leave reading recommendations in the other’s email inbox.

“I tried to summarise the book for him in a way he would understand, too, but then-” Holt shakes his head with a huff, almost a smile, and Kevin can’t resist stepping closer to the chair until he can lean against its armrest. “I- I simply lost control, and began talking about it without pause. It is a wonderful read, really. Even Peralta seemed interested - despite my treatise being longer than ten minutes, it kept his attention span.”

“That’s remarkable.” Kevin scoffs only a little, still teetering on his like or dislike of the young man.

“It really was. It felt quite - connecting, in a way. I think people would describe it as ‘being a moment’ between us, if you understand.”

He nods, silently, because he can tell that the big reveal is yet to come, the story of emotions across Holt’s face moving to the finish line - his husband is a wonderful storyteller, but sometimes he does push the act to its limits.

“And then Peralta got lost in his reply to me, as well, and called me Dad.” Holt says in a much quieter voice than before, and Kevin can tell from the slight quiver of his lip that he’s fighting back tears.

“You’ve mentioned him calling you that before.” He tries to be gentle, to not upset him any further, knowing full well that those mentioned situations meant more to Holt than maybe he himself was willing to admit yet.

“Yes, but not- I think not in this way.” Holt presses a finger to his lips for a second, as if he’s searching for the right words. “Usually, it seems more like he is forgetting himself when he says it, simply substituting me as an authoritative person for a father figure. But this time, it felt quite... emotional. Like I had been bestowed the title properly.”

Kevin’s hand finds the top of his, laying flat on the armrest between them, and gives it a soft squeeze, barely appropriate now that they’re alone in their own home.

“He looks up to you, Raymond. I wouldn’t be surprised to know that you’ve gained that title quite a while ago.”

He feels his husband take in a sharp breath, and lets go of his hand immediately.

“And I think you’d suit the title quite well, too. For Jake.”

#my writing #ficlet #fic #B99 #Brooklyn 99 #raymond holt #jake peralta #captain dad

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iamnotawomanimagod · 3 years

Text

If I Can’t Have Love, I Want Power - A Reluctant Ranking of Every Track

Disclaimer: This entire album is incredible, truly no skips, and I also think it’s an album that is hard to separate into individual tracks, because it all goes so well together. But I still wanted to try! This is just my personal opinion, and it’s subject to change. (Also I surprised myself. And I bet I’ll change my mind by tonight.)

Please feel free to do your own and tag me in it!! I wanna see!!

13. Girl is a Gun

It’s not that I dislike this song, it’s just a sound that I didn’t expect on this album. I think it would’ve fit in better on Manic. I don’t love how it kind of just repeats over and over again, especially on an album so full of complex, intricate lyrics. But it’s a really upbeat, sexy song and I bet it’s going to be so fun live.

Favorite lyric:

Time is a blessin', to me, it's a lesson And I can't be stressin' to give you attention 'Cause, oh, it's never enough, so I'm givin' you up And you'll be better with a nice girl, darlin'

12. Lilith

Similar to “Girl is a Gun,” I simply wasn’t expecting this kind of sound on this album - could’ve seen it on Hopeless Fountain Kingdom though! The bass is amazing and I love the rhythm.

Favorite lyric:

You know I get too caught up in a moment I can't call it love if I show it I just fuck things up, if you noticed Have you noticed? Tell me have you noticed?

11. Darling

This song is so sweet and charming, especially if you compare it to “More,” which I think it acts as a sort of sequel to. Something about the melody hits me just a little wrong. When they start singing, I can’t help but hear the verses of “Hopeless.” That might’ve been intentional, but I can’t get past it to hear this song as its own thing.

Favorite lyric:

Never knew the feeling of a stable home Been a couple years of living on the road Couldn't really tell you where they'd leave a stone To visit me when I am dead and gone

10. The Tradition

I love the haunting piano and vocals. It feels like a song that was written for the film specifically. (Was it even in the film, lol?) I really love the sound of it, but the lyrics don’t do very much for me.

Favorite lyric:

And I hope what's left will last all summer long And they said that, "Boys were boys", but they were wrong

9. The Lighthouse

This song reminds me the most of a Nine Inch Nails song - fitting that Trent Reznor provides backing vocals on the final verse. I love the grimy guitars, and and discordant beat, and the way it builds up. The melody is cool and liquid. The final verse really feels like waves crashing. It’s a well-written song that really shows off Halsey’s alternative side.

Favorite lyric:

Well, that should teach a man to mess with me He was never seen again And I'm still wandering the beach And I'm glad I met the devil 'Cause he showed me I was weak And a little piece of him is in a little piece of me

8. Ya’aburnee

This song makes me really emotional. It makes me think of all the people I love the most and it makes me want to cherish my time with them even more. That’s an incredible feeling for an artist to create. It’s such a bittersweet song. I wanna cry but it also makes me smile.

Favorite lyric:

But what's worse? Telling you my feelings or to die without revealing That you crawled inside my head and set a fire there, instead Letting all my insecurity Devour me with certainty

7. honey

If you’ve ever felt this way for someone, this song stings in the best way possible. I love the rhythm and the drums and the guitars - this is peak pop punk and Halsey fits right in. I love the honey imagery, especially that she included some imagery about bees and the way honey clings.

Favorite lyric:

And now she's impatient and I'm complacent With just a little taste of wasting time Looking for honey But she stings like she means it She's mean and she's mine

6. 1121

Now this is the sound I expected from this album. Cinematic, dark, dramatic. The piano is so haunting and so beautiful. It evokes so much imagery through sound alone, even with the lyrics being relatively simple. And their voice is so incredible. The song overall reminds me a lot of Evanescence, which is high praise. And I really appreciate the “self-loathing in love” theme, I can relate to it a lot. I’ve already been singing the chorus at the top of my lungs whenever I play this song.

Favorite lyric:

Take one in the temple My tongue is a vessel I try to be careful with The thing inside my chest You shoot for the memory So you can forget me I'd leave if you let me, oh

5. Bells in Santa Fe

Ever since we heard a snippet of this song in the first film trailer, I’ve been desperate to hear the rest of it. It didn’t disappoint. I love her lower register vocals, the tinkling piano and the frantic rhythm. And I relate too much to the message of the song - loving someone so much but refusing to accept that they want forever with you, insisting that they’re better off without you, warning them that you could slip away at any moment. It hits me where I live.

Favorite lyric:

Jesus needed a three day weekend To sort out all his bullshit, figure out the treason I've been searching for a fortified defense Four to five reasons But, Jesus, you've got better lips than Judas I could keep your bed warm, otherwise I'm useless I don't really mean it, 'cause who the fuck would choose this?

4. I am not a woman, I’m a god

This song fucks. Claiming their power to create life - recognizing that as godly and divine, while also insisting this is not a power that makes them a woman. I can’t wait for it to become a smash hit and for people to be singing about a nonbinary/trans experience without even knowing it. I honestly have trouble even articulating why this song is so awesome, it just is. I’m pumped every time I hear it.

Favorite lyric:

Oh, I just wanna feel something, tell me where to go 'Cause everybody knows something I don't wanna know So I'll stay right here cause I'm better all alone Yeah, I'm better all alone

3. You asked for this

I really like the 90s alternative sound of this one, it reminds me of Alanis Morrissette and certain No Doubt songs. I think it’s a very realistic depiction of how settling down in life can be very bittersweet, and the things that we ask for are sometimes not what they seem to be. But we also come to realize that settling is a part of growing up. Still, Halsey sings about wanting everything, knowing there are contradictions in that. The chorus is fun and easy to sing to, and the final verse is so amazing.

Favorite lyric:

I want a beautiful boy's despondent laughter I want to ruin all my plans I want a fist around my throat I want to cry so hard I choke I want everything I asked for

2. Whispers

This one hits hard, but god, it’s so good. The way they whisper certain phrases. The simple piano under the first verse, the way it becomes more complex, the way the beat comes in. You want to dance and cry at the same time. The lyrics - I know so many of us can relate to them. The themes of self-sabotage and self-loathing are so strong in this album, which definitely hits me right in the chest.

Favorite lyric:

I've got a monster inside me That eats personality types She is constantly changing her mind on the daily Think that she hates me I'm feeling it lately Might have to trick her and treat her To 70 capsules or fly to a castle So at least we could say that we died being traveled

1. Easier than Lying

I’ve had this one on repeat since the album came out, and that surprised me at first, but god, this song is addictive. The crunchy guitar at the beginning, the driving rhythm, the way her voice contrasts with that. The scream-singing on the chorus. It’s the kind of song you want to drive way too fast to. The bridge!! Aaah! It’s just so badass and listening to it now gets me too hyped!! Also the way it can kind of be seen as a sequel to “Lie,” - the growth of going “if you don’t love me no more, then lie” to “losing you is easier than lying to myself” is so meaningful and so empowering.

My heart is massive but it's empty A permanent part of me, that innocent artery Is gasping for some real attention Some undivided hypertension I tell it "quiet down, you're being loud" But it beats harder every time you come around But do you love the sound?

I’m gonna tag some mutuals, just to share, and also to see if anyone else wants to do this! Also you don’t need to go as in-depth as I did if that’s intimidating or too much, I’m just wordy.

@demonzplay @easiersthanlying @ttpane @yoursalwaysleo @anarkyandmadness @feelingsiwontforget @tolerateit @tommyhardyx @elysiems @imacreepygirl @finallybeautifulstranger @inthenameofloveforthesakeofpower and I know I’m forgetting some folks, I’m sorry! Please feel free to steal this and also tag me in yours!

#stephspeaks #halsey #iichliwp #if i can't have love i want power #suicide tw #for some of the lyrics

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