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jamminvroomvroom · 3 months

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Now hear me out… Lando with a daddy kink. I rest my case (and send in my request).

heart to heart.

ln x fem!reader

in which you’re heartbroken and lando knows exactly what you’ve always wanted.

oh, anon. how i love you. ngl haven’t written this trope much before so this was a baby-steps attempt… but it’s intense smut lmao. keep sending in requests guys, i’m getting through them (slowly)!! anyways enjoy, love you, tell me what you think <3

songs to set the mood: heart to heart by mac demarco

warnings: 18+ minors DNI!! smut, language, daddy kink (help), breeding kink (lord forgive me), friends to lovers (implied), mentions of cheating (not reader or lando), dom!lando, sub!reader

1.4k words

you’ve been friends for years.

sometimes it felt like the door was open for more, only to be quickly slammed shut when a cute barista handed you his number, or when lando slid into a bikini models dm’s. bottom line: it never ended up crossing that line and becoming more.

you’re crying on his couch when the line finally blurs.

“i just- i just thought…” you choke out a sob that cuts you off.

“what, honey?” lando coos, brushing some damp hairs away from your streaming eyes.

“i thought i’d marry him. how stupid is that?” you whimper. this is the worst breakup you’d gone through to date, and just like when anything goes wrong, lando is there with a spare shoulder for you to cry on. he always knew that your ex was a piece of shit but his warnings fell on deaf ears. “we talked about kids and houses. he asked me my fucking ring size.” you spat. all of this happened, of course, before you found out he’d been cheating on you with his boss’s assistant.

“you’re not stupid, honey.” lando pulls you in closer to his side.

you stay there for a while, letting the tears fall until there are no more left to cry and your face is drying up. your head rests on his shoulder, and when you turn it to look up at him, he’s already looking down at you.

pink lips are parted, slicked with a swipe of his tongue. two blue eyes turned to an icy grey dart between your own lustful pair and your lips, parted only to expel shallow, shaky breaths.

“kids and a nice big lawn, is that what you want?” he whispers. you shift against the couch, trying to hide the shiver the low gravelly tone of his voice shoots down your spine.

“mhm.” you nod slightly, sinking into his side and his eyes.

time speeds up for a moment; the hand he has wrapped around you finds your waist, and somehow he manoeuvres you onto his lap. it feels odd. odd, because it’s right. it’s new and yet it feels… familiar.

“why’d you waste all that time with those assholes, hm?” his voice is mocking, and your knees squeeze around his hips. “could’ve given you all that years ago. fucked a baby into you and put a nice, shiny ring on this finger.” lando pulls your ring finger between his lips, holding eye contact as he swirls his tongue around the digit. you tremble against him, his filthy words almost sending you slack against him.

“didn’t know you wanted me.” you pant.

“i’m gonna do things to you that will make sure that you never doubt me again.”

and he does.

you’re crying on his mattress, overstimulated, yet desperate for more. these are the only kind of tears he ever wants you to cry. he’s been between your legs for what feels like so long that hours could have passed and you wouldn’t question a thing. his tongue works over and over your throbbing clit and your hands rake through tangled curls.

“lando, please.” you chant, over and over again. you don’t know what you’re asking him for, but he seems to get it, because he doesn’t stop.

two fingers find your entrance, sodden with the remnants of more orgasms than you can count. in slides one, twisting deliciously before it’s joined by the second. you ascend, pretty much instantly, so overwhelmed by how good he’s managed to make you feel. your orgasm builds too quickly, and you’re dripping down his wrist before you can even tell him you’re close.

lando chuckles, tongue tracing the mess you’ve left as he shuffles on his knees between your legs. then, he’s hovering over you, balancing on one of his forearms whilst his other hand traces the curve of your body.

“having fun, honey?” he bumps his nose against yours, lips meeting yours a brief second later. it feels as good and as right the first time he kissed you earlier, and he licks into your mouth, deep and sensual. you moan into the kiss when you taste yourself on his tongue.

you can feel his cock brushing against your folds and you melt into the mattress, keening at his the feeling of him everywhere. your shaky hands skim his torso, feeling every dip and ridge under your fingertips. golden skin tenses, rippling flesh taut against your palms. your hips buck into his.

“tell me what you want, honey. need to hear you say it.”

“fuck me.” you mutter, rolling your hips once more. the angle you create means that his cock catches your folds and you can’t help but whine his name.

“how?” lando smirks, your chin trapped between his fingers. he makes you look at him, and you curse yourself for not doing this sooner.

“what you said earlier…” you choke out, trailing off.

“what did i say earlier?” he tease. you groan in frustration.

“please, lando.” you’re too hot, blush stains your cheeks and your neck.

“is my sweet girl getting shy?” he pecks your lips, kisses down your neck. when he reaches your ear, he tugs on the lobe. all you can feel is sharp teeth and warm breath. everything is slick.

“it’s okay, honey.” lando continues. “i remember. remember those wide eyes and pouty lips when i told you what i can give you. gonna make me a daddy, baby? finally gonna be mine?” he whispers, right into your ear. all you see is white.

finally.

“daddy.” you pant, when he finally slides into you, hard and deep.

“that’s it, baby.” lando grunts, hooking your thigh over his hip. you can feel the way his fingers dig in to your flesh, stopping him from falling apart instantly. his other hand takes your wrists, pushes them up the mattress until they’re pinned right above your head and he’s hovering over you, perfectly level. chest to chest, heart to heart.

shallow thrusts aid the deep grind of his hips, rolling slowly into yours. he’s everywhere, nothing separating your needy, flushed bodies. he never pulls all the way out, stays buried as deep as he can, and repeatedly hits that spot inside of you that allows you to see every star in the sky. you’re breathless, soundless, utterly helpless as you drown in him and everything he has to offer you.

you wonder if he’ll actually spill into you, mark you as his. it makes you dizzy, makes you shake, the idea of nothing stopping him from making such a mess between your spread legs. you want to beg for it but you can’t, the raging, wet pleasure in the pit of your belly rendering you speechless. all you manage is a dry plea of half of his name.

“lan-“ you begin, but he kisses the rest of the word out of his mouth.

“no, honey, that’s not my name.” he rasps, talks down to you in a way that pushes you even closer to sweet release.

“daddy. want you to be daddy.” you slur.

the reaction you get from him is worth every heartache you’ve ever suffered. his rhythm changes and now he’s slamming into you, and the sensation makes you cry some more, thick tears sliding down your neck which he tastes, licks away.

but then everything is soaking. you gush around him and his abs glisten. your throat burns from the scream, and then there’s silence, just for a moment.

“fucking hell.” he shudders, transfixed on the thin layer of you that seems to be everywhere.

he’s wrapped around you tight when he lets go, muttering unintelligible filth in your ear as he does. you stay intertwined for a moment, trying to piece together what you’d just done.

when lando eventually rolls off of you, he takes every inch of you in, a beautiful canvas covered in a memory. his eyes are warm again, soft. whatever had possessed him is long gone and he’s just lando again. your lando.

you attempt to wriggle across the mattress, seeking refuge in your forgotten pile of clothes on the floor. he stops you in your feeble attempts to peel your lifeless body off of his bed.

“hey, it’s okay, honey. let me look after you.” he coos, gentle sitting you up. “you okay?”

“thank you.” you whisper. your lips meet, fleetingly, delicate.

“‘m gonna take care of you, baby.” he promises. you believe him.

i don’t know what came over me lmao whoops

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removed any tags that weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3

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honestlyvan · 5 months

Text

ALAN WAKE 2 ANNOTATED: WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT WEIRD FINNISH GUY SAYING

(This post is also available on Dreamwidth)

Preamble: What is this?

There’s a lot of Finnish shit in Alan Wake 2. I speak Finnish. I’m really annoyed about how wrong about some of the things that are in Finnish in the game people actually are. @drdarling is an Ahti fan. We’re mutually annoyed about how wrong about Ahti people are, because in general the trend is people thinking Ahti is spooky and mysterious because they don’t know what he’s saying, rather than thinking he’s spooky and mysterious because of the things he’s saying.

So Autumn went through the entire game, transcribing Ahti’s dialogue, and I went through the transcript, translating everything untranslated in the game, and providing cultural context for the rest of it (with some saves from @saikkunen, @rhpurasu-blog, and my mum), because truly this dude is not nearly as cryptic as people make him out to be, and is actually twice as weird as people think he is as a result.

Disclaimer: Finnish is very regional, and even with people from all over pitching in, some of the shit Ahti says might still be idioms we’re not familiar with. If you’re a Finnish person reading this going “HOW DID YOU NOT KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS”, trust me that I had many moments like that while putting this together, and please leave a comment so I can add your insight :D

This post is going to go through all of Initiation, followed by all of Return. There's unmarked spoilers past the cut -- enter at your own risk.

INITIATION 1: LATE NIGHT

First meeting with Ahti as Alan:

Ah, (no niin) there you are, Tom. Not so much evil that not a bit of good as well. Not one without the other. Good to see you.

“No niin” -- utterance, roughly the same as “alright” or “now then”. “No” is a common filler word like “well.”

“Not so much evil that not a bit of good as well.” – “ei niin paljon pahaa ettei jotain hyvääkin”, a common Finnish turn of phrase. Broadly has the same meaning as “silver linings.”

Alan asks Ahti to point him towards the exit:

(No totta helvetissä.) Of course, Tom. The work will instruct its maker. I was gonna get something from the basement for you, but you can get it yourself now. The more cooks the worse the soup.

“No totta helvetissä” – “(in Hell), of course”, a variation on the phrase “totta kai”, meaning “certainly” or “of course”

“The work will instructs its maker” – “työ tekijäänsä opettaa”, common proverb. “You learn things by doing them.”

“The more cooks the worse the soup” – “mitä useampi kokki, sitä huonompi soppa”, common proverb, same as “too many cooks spoils the broth”

Alan asks Ahti what Ahti wants him to get from the basement and clarifies that his name is Alan, not Tom:

(No joo, mutta katopa kun) a man’s a man but a man with a tool makes two, Tom. (Eikö niin?) And a man with a tool can build his own exit. It’s in a shoebox in the basement where you left it. Safe as in the Lord’s purse. Here’s the key.

“No joo, mutta katopa kun” – “see, here’s the thing (with that) is”

“a man’s a man but a man with a tool makes two” – this may be an obscure saying, my whole gaggle of Finnish friends were equally stumped by it. Entirely possible it’s just those little shits from Espoo fucking with us, entirely possible that it’s a variation on a saying that we’re just not picking up on.

“Eikö niin?” – “isn’t it so?”/”Right?” a filler phrase. (It is very common for people to say this right after saying something that makes no fucking sense.)

“Safe as in the Lord’s purse.” – idiomatic, comes from the Bible (1 Samuel 25:29)

Alan asks Ahti if they have met before:

You remember Ahti. The janitor. You can’t be lost if you don’t worry about where you are headed. So don’t worry Tom, the sun will shine even into a heap of twigs. Just remember to turn on the lights. It won’t take long when you get to work.

“You remember Ahti. The janitor.” – the intonation of this line implies to me that in Finnish he’d be using emphatic -han/-hän for it

“You can’t be lost if you don’t worry about where you are headed.” – may be an obscure saying, none of us recognised it.

“the sun will shine even into a heap of twigs” – “paistaa se päivä risukasaankin”, everyone has their little successes, “every dog has its day”

“It won’t take long when you get to work” – “ei mene kauaa kunhan pääsee alkuun”, “as long as you get started it won’t take long (for the matter to resolve)”

Alan asks Ahti if he knows a way to escape The Dark Place:

He who moans about his troubles, is the prisoner of his troubles. It’s not easy to get out. But don’t you worry, Tom, the home is still there, where the heart is. I often think about it when I mop the floor and look into the puddle. Water is the memory of the world. Water finds its way.

“He who moans about his troubles, is the prisoner of his troubles.“ – “Joka murheistaan valittaa, on murheidensa vanki”, common proverb. Finnish people love telling other people to stop complaining.

INITIATION 4: WE SING

After the musical sequence, when you walk past Ahti in the studio:

My Swedish brothers, (perkele). (Ai että nyt on kyllä joo). (Lattoi pojat jenkkakoneet soimaan, saatana).

“Perkele” – “(by) the Devil”, one of the most common Finnish swear words.

“Ai että nyt on kyllä joo” – Untranslatable, can be approximated as “now we’re talking”, “that’s more like it”, or “a hell of a thing”. I love this phrase because it means fuck-all even in Finnish, and conveys a sense of deep appreciation regardless.

“Lattoi pojat jenkkakoneet soimaan, saatana” – literally “Those boys really made the jenkka machine ring, (by) Satan.” “Jenkkakone” refers to the band, playing a song for people to dance “jenkka”, a fast-paced folk dance to. (Addition from @sluiba: jenkkakone is a colloquial term for a jukebox, nowadays more commonly used to refer to audio equipment more broadly e.g. speakers; so he's basically saying, "those boys really turned it up to eleven".)

INITIATION 7: MASKS

When Alan runs into the janitor’s closet:

Hurry, Tom! Here is the light at the end of the tunnel. (Jumalauta), that held you close, Tom. (Ei muuta kun) onwards, said the granny in the snow. When the panic is biggest, the help is also near.

“Jumalauta” – “god help us/you”, a common swear word

“that held you close” – “otti läheltä”, meaning about the same as “a close call”. A more literal translation would be “that took close”.

“Ei muuta kun” – “nothing else to do about it, but”

“onwards, said the granny in the snow.” – “eteenpäin, sanoi mummo lumessa”, a common turn of phrase, an motivational expression of perseverance and sisu

“When the panic is biggest, the help is also near” – “kun hätä on suurin, on apukin lähellä”, a common turn of phrase, broadly means the same thing as “there is light at the end of the tunnel”, can be thought of as a more optimistic companion to “things will get worse before they get better”

(I like this block of dialogue a lot because it demonstrates that a lot of Ahti’s Finnish is just filler words and a tonal component to what he is actually saying.)

Alan mentions that Door didn’t seem happy to see him this time:

Fearing the master is the root of wisdom. But don’t let the game get you down. He is playing his role. Maybe put him in your films, Tom, like you have put me. (Perkele! Sehän olisikin).

“Fearing the master is the root of wisdom.” – “herran pelko on viisauden alku”, the fear of the lord (or rather, The Lord) is the beginning of wisdom. It’s an interesting choice to omit the reference to the Christian god, because it’s preserved in other phrases.

“Perkele! Sehän olisikin” – “(by) the Devil! Wouldn’t that be something.”

Alan asks what films Ahti is talking about:

I’m a fan of your masterworks. There is “Tom the Poet”, my favorite. And “Yötön Yö” is the most famous one, of course. And is it true what I hear, that it’s coming back to cinemas soon? Is there a bottom to this rumor?

“Is there a bottom to this rumor?” – “olla pohjaa”, to have a bottom, means “to have a factual basis”.

Alan says he needs to get back to his apartment, asks if Ahti can help:

Well-planned is half-done. You asked me to make sure you won’t forget the… (mikä se valokuva oli) light pictures, the photos that your artist wife took. They are waiting in the shoebox in the basement. What you leave behind, you find in front of you.

“Well-planned is half-done” – “hyvin suunniteltu on puoliksi tehty”, a common turn of phrase. What it says on the tin.

“mikä se valokuva oli” – “what was the word for ‘valokuva’ again”, a relatable bilingual moment. The Finnish word for photograph is literally just a compound word that directly translates to “light picture”.

“What you leave behind, you find in front of you.” – “minkä taakseen jättää, sen edestään löytää”, what goes around comes around.

He also has incidental dialogue, if you hang around after the conversation

I am looking forward to seeing “Yötön Yö” in the cinema, but first I work. And the work won’t end even when you do it (perkele). (No ei siinä), one potato at a time. Just remember, Tom - the brave will eat the pea soup.

“No ei siinä” – “well, nothing else to it”

“the work won’t end even when you do it” – “ei työ tekemällä lopu”, common proverb, warning against rushing and working too hard (because you won’t run out of work through hard work)

“one potato at a time” – “yksi peruna kerrallaan”. This one is so funny to me because he could have just said “one thing at a time”, since that phrase translates literally, and instead he says this just so sound slightly more Finnish.

“the brave will eat the pea soup” – “rohkea rokan syö”, a common proverb, used the same way as “fortune favours the bold”

RETURN 5: OLD GODS

At Valhalla Nursing Home, after Rose tells Ahti that he doesn’t need to clean, this is his home, and threatens to take his mop away even though she knows he would just find it again:

(Kyllä, kyllä mutta) once after being told no. Why rest, when you are born to work. (Eikö niin?)

“Kyllä, kyllä mutta” – “yeah, yeah, but”, exactly as “yeah yeah whatever” as you’d think it is.

“once after being told no.” – “kerta kiellon päälle”, a common idiom, to do something one last time before stopping for good. “One for the road”

“Why rest, when you are born to work” – possibly an obscure saying, the version I grew up with is “why rest when you are born to work hard (like a farmhand)”.

Rose tells Ahti to go pick a song from the jukebox, as a treat:

Yes box, holiday. Just thinking about it makes my dance foot waggle. (Kyllä näin on).

“Yes box, holiday” – This is a reference to Pirkka-Pekka Petelius, a Finnish sketch comedian from the Eighties. “Jees” is a loanword from the English “yes”, meaning “good, decent, alright”. The original append was far more vulgar, translating more properly to “yes box, dick face”

“makes my dance foot waggle” – “tanssijalka vipattamaan”, a common turn of phrase, means “makes you want to dance/makes you start dancing” depending on the context.

“Kyllä näin on.” – “That’s the way it is”, common filler phrase.

Saga introduces herself:

(No eipä siinä). Name won’t make the man worse, even a Swedish name. I’m Ahti.

“No eipä siinä” – filler phrase, same as “No ei siinä”

“Name won’t make the man worse” – “ei nimi miestä pahenna”, a common proverb, similar in meaning as “don’t judge a book by its cover”

Saga asks if there’s anything good on the jukebox:

We try to do good, but only prime comes out. Music from my Swedish brothers, Old Gods of Asgard. My pals, the (perkeleen) vikings, (perkele).

“We try to do good, but only prime comes out.” – “Hyvää koitetaan tehä mut priimaa tuloo”. This is a very specifically Bothnian turn of phrase, he’s just bragging about the Old Gods making good music.

“(perkeleen) vikings” – “Perkele” being used as an adjective for emphasis.

Saga asks where to find the Andersons:

You can never know where. Only a seaman can know that, but even the seaman can’t know everything.

“Only a seaman can know that” – this is also an honest to god pop culture reference, to a song called “Vain merimies voi tietää” (“Only the sailor knows”) by Tapio Rautavaara.

Saga asks if Ahti was in the band:

(Minäkö?) No no. (Perkele, saatana, en ollu en). Not so much sweet that it fills the whole stomach. But we have shared a stage or two.

“Minäkö? Perkele, saatana, en ollu en.” – “Me? (Perkele, saatana), absolutely not.” “Me” in the interrogative has a slightly dismissive/diminutive vibe in Finnish.

“Not so much sweet that it fills the whole stomach.” – “ei makiaa mahan täydeltä”, a classic turn of phrase about not overindulging.

Ahti’s incidental dialogue, hanging out by the jukebox as Saga:

Rain is coming down like from the ass of Esteri. (Vaikka vettähän ne kyllä lupasikin, että…)

“Rain is coming down like from the ass of Esteri” – “vettä tulee kuin Esterin perseestä”, same as “raining cats and dogs”

“Vaikka vettähän ne kyllä lupasikin, että…” – “Although (they, the weather forecast) did promise it would rain, so…”

Rushing is not good for you and hurry is not an honor. (Lietkö olet tämmöistä kuullut.)

“Rushing is not good for you and hurry is not an honor” – “ei ole hoppu hyväksi eikä kiire kunniaksi”, a very common idiom. What it says on the tin.

“Lietkö olet tämmöistä kuullut” – “I wonder if you’ve heard (of) such a thing”, he’s just making fun of Saga for being “hasty.”

(Joo näinhän se menee, että…) the lazy man gets sweaty when he eats and gets chilly when he works. (Se oli kyllä hyvin sanottu.) The song revives the soul.

“Joo näinhän se menee, että” – a filler phrase, similar meaning as saying “as they say”.

“the lazy man gets sweaty when he eats and gets chilly when he works” – “hiki laiskan syödessä, vilu työtä tehdessä”, a common proverb excoriating people for laziness.

“Se oli kyllä hyvin sanottu” – “That was well said”. This whole exchange comes across as Ahti trying to impart some words of wisdom to Saga.

After the power goes out, Ahti has dialogue upstairs:

No use crying in the dark place. What has been, has gone. But trouble doesn’t look like this! You can go to the basement and check the generator. But look out - you can never know in which tree the devil sits.

“No use crying in the dark place.” – This is most likely a deliberate play on words from Ahti. The relevant Finnish proverb is “ei auta itku markkinoilla” (there’s no use crying at the marketplace) which means it’s pointless to waste time feeling sorry for yourself.

“What has been, has gone.” – “ollutta ja mennyttä”, usually this phrase is used the same way as “water under the bridge”

“But trouble doesn’t look like this!” – “ei hätä ole tämän näköinen”, common turn of phrase communicating that the situation is not as bad as it seems.

“you can never know in which tree the devil sits.” – “ei sitä koskaan tiedä missä puussa piru istuu”, common proverb. The word used for devil, “piru”, refers to a folk devil or an evil spirit rather than a capital-letter Devil the way “Saatana” and “Perkele” do.

Ahti jumpscare at the Spiral door:

Getting in is forbidden, for your own safety. Time is long for those who wait. But in the end, stand the thanks.

“Time is long for those who wait” – “odottavan aika on pitkä”, common turn of phrase. Same meaning as “time is slow for those who wait”.

“in the end, stand the thanks.” – “lopussa kiitos seisoo”, common turn of phrase. Similar meaning as “good things come to those who wait.” The word for “thanks” can also be used to mean “reward”.

Saga asks Ahti is he knows anything about the Cult of the Tree:

Yes, yes! He who reaches for a spruce tree will stumble into a juniper. Blum was one of them. He has kicked empty. I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes. But I like his shoes.

“He who reaches for a spruce tree will stumble into a juniper.” – “joka kuuseen kurkottaa se katajaan kapsahtaa”, a common proverb about (edited by suggestion from Sluiba again) the dangers of excessive ambition and greed.

“He has kicked empty.” – “potkaissut tyhjää”, common idiom, "kicked the bucket"

Saga asks Ahti how he knows Blum was in the Cult:

A fox never runs out of tricks. Tease a crazy man and he will show his ways. Blum liked to talk.

“A fox never runs out of tricks “ – “ei ketulta keinot lopu”, proverb. Foxes are traditionally tricksters in Finnish folklore.

“Tease a crazy man and he will show his ways “ – “härnää hullua, saat tapansa tietää”, proverb. In essence, “fuck around and find out.”

Saga asks Ahti if he knows where Anger’s Remorse is, after finding the empty record sleeve:

The matter is not my business, (mutta niin, sanotaanko vaikka, että) but she who steals a needle, steals a nail. Wonders of the modern world - music captured on vinyl, on tape. What will they come up with next? (Mitähän ne vielä keksii) I’m a man of the old union.

“mutta niin, sanotaanko vaikka, että” – “but, yeah, let’s just say”

“but she who steals a needle, steals a nail.” – “Joka varastaa neulan, varastaa naulan”, an old proverb. I’d like to note that Finnish does not have gendered pronouns, so Ahti is deliberately giving a hint here. (Addition from @sluiba: "[the proverb] suggests that someone unscrupulous enough to steal small things will likely also steal something bigger.")

“Mitähän ne vielä keksii” – “what (else) are they going to come up with”

“I’m a man of the old union.” – “Vanhan liiton mies”, a biblical reference to the covenant in the Old Testament. He’s basically calling himself older than Christ. The phrase itself is used to mean "old-fashioned" in a positive sense.

Weird idle dialogue in Ahti’s room after this:

There are pieces of george on the floor everywhere. The black stuff. Shitty thing. Very bad. I need to clean it all away. (Perkele, kun sotketaan joka paikka)!

“pieces of george” – very sneaky, he’s saying it look like someone threw up (yrjötä, the name “Yrjö” being a Finnish form of George) on the floor.

“Perkele, kun sotketaan joka paikka” – “(Perkele), what a mess they’ve made of everything!”

(Kulkaapa nyt, mikä…) (Mitäs, mikä paikka tämä on?) (Voi helvetti soikoon). Where am I? (Tämä ei ole minun koti). This is not my home. (Minä haluan…) I want to go home now. What is this place? (Ei saatana. Ei saatana!) How did I get here? I’m lost… lost at sea. No lighthouse anywhere, and a storm is coming. (Voi jumalauta).

“Kulkaapa nyt, mikä… Mitäs, mikä paikka tämä on?” – “listen here, what… Where, what is this place?”

“Voi helvetti soikoon” – cursing, literally translates to “oh, how Hell rings (like a bell)”

“Tämä ei ole minun koti. Minä haluan…” – “This is not my home. I want…”

RETURN 8: DEERFEST

Alan goes to the Spiral Door in the Dark Place and sees Ahti there:

We loop around, and come together, Tom. I have put everything ready for the visitors. I’ll come to wash the floor of your room next. All you need is water and Vileda. Water is the oldest balm. Water finds its way. What water brings, it takes away. It can be clean or dirty, it can give life or drown it.

“We loop around, and come together” – “ympäri käydään, yhteen tullaan”, a common turn of phrase. “What goes around comes around.”

“All you need is water and Vileda.” – Vileda is a popular cleaning supplies brand. He’s quoting an advertisement.

“Water is the oldest balm.” – “vesi vanhin voitehista”, from Kalevala. What it says on the tin.

Alan asks if Ahti can help him find his way one last time:

Now there’s a devil in the fish trap. Don’t be spooked by it so that shit won’t start beating your underpants. Okay, I’ll get the door open for you, Tom. There you go. The matter is a steak. Now comes the end of the rhyme.”

“there’s a devil in the fish trap” – “olla piru merrassa”, an idiom. It means that there’s unfortunate consequences for something you did, similar to “a devil to pay”

“Don’t be spooked by it so that shit won’t start beating your underpants” – “älä säiky ettei lyö paskat housuihin”, would be more properly translated as “so that shit doesn’t drop hard into your pants”. Means the same thing as it does in English.

“The matter is a steak.” – “asia on pihvi”, idiom meaning that something has been exhaustively dealt with, the way you make steak out of a cow.

“Now comes the end of the rhyme” – “tuli lorun loppu”, idiom with a similar meaning and implication as “end of the line”, the expected end of the current circumstances.

And that’s a wrap! If there’s interest, and if I can get an assist from Autumn again, I might go back to Control and do the same thing for Ahti there. The point is to do justice to our collective weird uncle from the Remedy Connected Universe. Hope you had fun and learned something new :D

#Alan Wake 2 #Remedy Entertainment #Ahti the janitor #AW2 spoilers #Alan Wake (Remedy)

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shearlin · 9 months

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Hot take about Sky angst, regarding the curse of Demise, because I haven't seen anyone talking about this possibility in all those years I've been in LU fandom.

Guys...

Sky has no idea about the curse

Because think about it. Why would he know about it?

My man has been electrocuted multiple times, with magical - basically divine - lightnings in attempt to defeat Demise. All the while fighting for his life with a literal GOD OF EVIL, after spending an entire afternoon fighting an army of monsters and a Demon Lord/creepy ass Sword Spirit. Not even mentioning how worried sick he must have been that entire time, if this time he was also too late too save Zelda.

(always too late too slow not enough and late late late)

I don't know about you, but I don't think he was in any state of body or mind to listen to some dudes last words, when he had to focus on not passing out because he has to make sure Zelda/Sun is alright.

(It got a bit long so rest of the rant under the cut)

Fi gave him clear, that Demise received a mortal blow and that now it's only a matter of time until he dies and that was all Sky needed to stop paying any attention.

Just go through the motions. His vision is blurry, but that's alright just stay awake. Fi chimes to rise his sword. He does. There is some black smoke suddenly surrounding him, but Fi get's rid of it with her light so it's fine. It's probably why she asked him to rise her skyward. The last fifteen minutes he's been following her directions nearly blindly anyway, because his mind is still foggy, he's not sure where he is or what he is doing he just have to get to Zelda.

And then she's there. And everything is fine.

Impa fades, Fi sleeps and he finally rests. Or rather crashes as the exhaustion finally catches up to him.

But he recovers, as best as he can, and live on.

And then eight other heroes, just like him, appear and take him on a quest across the time. They become friends. Then brothers. Soon he feels like they knew each other their entire lives and can't imagine how he can move on after the inevitable goodbyes.

He is so happy that no matter what, there will always be someone among his people, someone from or even outside of Hyrule, to stand up against evil, no matter how many times it will try to show it's ugly face. He's a bit bummed that there even is a need for a hero to show up, but hey! He is not so naive to think people are and always will be only good. Things happen. Some people are just terrible, and some take it out on the entire world.

But somewhere along the line, he starts to notice... something weird.

They all fought that same guy (some of them even multiple times!) called Ganon or Ganondorf. And while he is overjoyed that none of them even heard the name of Demise, he feels kind of singled out. Few of them mentioned an idea of reincarnation. Mentioning Zeldas' connection through blood of the Goddess and their connection through a spirit.

A spirit of a hero.

He always though it was a figure of speech. A way to describe someone courageous who fulfills the quota of being a hero.

But it's not about a spirit of a hero.

No.

It's the Spirit of the Hero.

His Spirit.

An idea begins to form. A distant memory he didn't even knew he had. Maybe nightmares about that fateful fight starting to get clearer by night. Maybe he spends some time talking to Fi and he does not like the feeling he gets from her chimes, even if she can't really talk in her slumber. Maybe he even prays to Hylia in some distant era in an unfamiliar place, so she can deny or confirm his suspicions.

Goddesses, please, may he be wrong.

Because he loves them all like a family. Because they are family. Because he has seen their haunted expressions and blank eyes, he has heard their stories and horrors they went through and nearly all of them were so young, too young, and the thought that he was the direct cause of it-

Sky had no idea that Demise trapped his spirit in a cycle of reincarnation. He had no time to process it or find coping mechanisms before the adventure with the chain happened. He found out during it, slowly putting it together and coming apart at the seems before their eyes.

Sky didn't know about the curse.

And I say, it could be really interesting to watch Sky fall.

(And if anyone knows a fic exploring this idea please let me know! I searched but couldn't find any)

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu headcanons #linked universe headcanons #lu sky #linked universe sky #some curse of demise rant because I have thoughts #I love sky I promise #I just also happen lo love angst #and sky angst #having a traumatizing moment burn into his memory and haunt his every waking moment is all cool and dandy #but think about the slow realization before it finally hits #my rants

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zoe-oneesama · 1 year

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On a serious note, why do you not like Derision? I mean, I can guess why, but I’m genuinely curious to hear your thoughts (if you want to).

What have they done to my boy?!

I guess we'll start with the whole "trauma" thing since that's how the episode starts - with Marinette going on a date with Adrien at the pool but constantly getting heart palpitations at the very idea of it. And not good lovey-dovey crush ones like Sabine thinks. The Actual Panic Attack kind.

This just feels unnecessary AND too late. Unnecessary because there are plenty of pre-established reasons why Marinette could be hesitant to go all in with Adrien (Being Ladybug, the 354th other times going for Adrien has failed or left her humiliated, Being Ladybug). So I don't know why they invented a trauma for her in the final hour and didn't think it was worth talking about before now?

They really came up with this whole scheme to explain why Marinette does Marinette things, like learning Adrien's schedule, planning out everything before she tries to make a move, needing to know everything about him, as if the show hasn't been mocking her for these exact traits and allowing them to blow up in her face over and over again. But NOW it's due to her TRAUMA. So...retroactively when her friends laughed at her or slapped their foreheads in frustration or the show framed her failures as a joke...we know it's actually from a tragic place and can't laugh anymore.

I mean, I was never laughing, but you get what I mean. They framed it like it was part of the comedy and now they're pulling the rug out from under themselves. How are you supposed to laugh when Adrien brings Marinette constipation medicine, or when her pictures of him are blasted all over Paris Television, or the *ugh* Statue Scene plays out and now you know that this is just adding to her pre-existing trauma? They have shot the show's rewatch value.

I never thought Marinette needed a "reason" act the way she was because those were always just kinda The Things Teenage Girls Do when they have a crush. I've admitted in the past to learning my crush's class schedule just to orchestrate running into each other in the hallways more often, and if their crush had public interviews and magazine pictures, I'm pretty sure most kids would also cut out their pictures to keep and would read and remember the interviews. I never really saw her behavior as that weird for a girl her age with a crush and recognize some cartoon exaggeration.

...Stealing his phone was a little weird, though, I'll give them that though Alya is the one who suggested it first...

SO, we enter a long flashback to One Year Ago (with Marinette now on her third Almost-Akumatization, good lord) and learn what life was like for Marinette pre-Origins, and oh boy. It's hell. She's making up illnesses to avoid school, avoiding all contact with anyone in the courtyard, having cockroaches put in her locker, having the Principal catch her "late" for class (after she had to clean herself up from a water prank), gets yelled at by the teacher for being late, sits in paint, mocked in class and then yelled at again by the teacher for pointing out the person mocking her probably planted it, and gets Saturday detention. All in one day. And when anyone tries to talk to her or even glares at the person responsible, they get threatened too.

The main reason this is hell is because Marinette is being let down by every single adult in her life. Sabine just laughs and tells Marinette that she only has a few weeks left with Chloe and it's not like she'll be in the same class as her next year.🙃 Well, why don't you make SURE she doesn't?! Maybe this is just an American vs French school thing, but where I come from, it's totally within your rights to request that your child not be put in the same class as someone else, they could at least put in a throw away line about her parents TRYING to move her, but Chloe's not allowing it JUST to keep Marinette close to her. And maybe take this a little more seriously, Sabine- your daughter is faking illness to avoid One. Girl. That should be concerning, not "lol my daughter is so silly for trying to get out of class."

Damocles finds Marinette and yells at her for being "constantly late" and praising the "anonymous notes" (signed by Chloe -_-) for always alerting him when she's behind, and then later gives her Saturday detention for...someone clearly planting paint on her desk chair? He sees a victim of bullying and punishes her for it. At the end of the episode he even suspends Socqueline for something that happened outside of school, yet in "Jubilation" she's pumping him up as The Best Principal?! Does this show thinks we're stupid or something?!

Mendeleiev also yells at Marinette for being late. She allows Chloe to make fun of Marinette for looking depressed when she comes in and allows Chloe to mock Marinette for sitting in paint, but when Marinette doesn't even stand up for herself but just accuses Chloe of putting the paint there, THEN Mendeleiev has something to say, and it's to Marinette? For "groundlessly" accusing the only person in the room laughing at Marinette, the one who was just making fun of her, the one who kept her eyes on Marinette so she could watch her sit in the paint?

Marinette tells Socqueline that all the adults are scared of Chloe, but that's not what I saw. Sure, at the end of the episode Damocles is afraid when Chloe pulls a "Lady Wifi" to force him to punish Socqueline for smashing Sabrina's phone, but the sequence of events played out more like the adults participating in the bullying. It wasn't like Damocles was sympathetic to Marinette and then Chloe cleared her throat, so he straightened up nervously and started berating Marinette. It wasn't like Marinette accused Chloe and then Chloe glared at Mendeleiev, forcing her to finally intervene. All the adults see what's going on and are either completely oblivious or don't care.

Also, Chloe totally unprompted says this:

GET A LIFE, what is your PROBLEM?! Like, why have a flashback episode and not have it explain what Chloe's fixation on Marinette even is?! It doesn't have to be big or anything! Like, have Marinette trip and spill something on Chloe in art class! Just do something!

And like, I totally get that irl bullies just choose their targets for no real reason and this is just another example of that, but to this level?! Just...get a hobby!

And then there's the big thing they did in this stupid episode. The unforgivable. The reprehensible.

This fucking guy.

It's been so long since we've seen Bully Kim that I was pretty sure he was left behind entirely on the draft floor. Sure, Kim is still capable of being insensitive or not thinking long-term, but he was a good kid. He roots for his friends and wants everyone to have a good time.

Hell, I could even buy that Kim was dumb enough to believe Chloe when she claims what he did was a funny practical joke that they'd all laugh about later...until Socqueline came up and yelled at him that he should be ashamed of himself.

And Ondine yelled at him in the present that he should be ashamed of himself.

And it's a year later and he should have realized by now that he should be ashamed of himself.

Kim is dumb, that's just a fact, but the way he doubles down and is so sure of himself that NO it's everyone ELSE who has a problem because they can't take a JOKE? Like...why?! Why did they co-sign on this character assassination?!

Just make him become akumatized because he's A S H A M E D of what he did now that he's finally sitting down and thinking about it a year later! He can keep the same look and motif, just have Monarch stroke the part of him that doesn't want him to be the jerk, the old Kim! It's totally normal, especially for a kid, to want to believe that they're not the bad guy even with all the evidence pointing to it, so I could even see the akuma being exactly the same.

But naur, it's KIM who talks like a right-wing podcast douche bag, complaining that you can't just speak your mind these days and everyone needs to get a sense of humor, they just don't GET it man, this is just how he IS brah, take it or leave it! His akuma's even named "Dark Humor", like edgy losers on reddit who make racist/sexist jokes and then get mad when he's downvoted and boo'd out of a forum. God, we just CAN'T TAKE A JOKE I guess.

I'm glad this is resolved by Ladybug gluing a toilet to his head.

I just...I feel like this could've worked in Season 1, or Season 2. Like...put it before Dark Cupid or before Syren or something. That way, Kim being a total douche is the starting point of his character arc, not the Season 5 Post-Hero Run point, ugh.

It'd also make this stupid line make more sense:

I'm sorry, the girl who got you akumatized after she humiliated you in nearly the same way you humiliated Marinette? I guess that was "just a prank bro" too, right?

Establish Marinette's problems with romance early, so she can overcome them or at least give them the proper context. It'd at least make the show look better if they hadn't made fun of her for 4 Seasons only to drop this bombshell on us at the end. You know...the thing that they just did.

This episode just isn't fun. I hated "Illusion" because all you get to see is the bad guys winning and outsmarting the heroes, but "Derision" is a marathon of seeing the absolute misery Marinette was put through, just to jump forward to the present to destroy a character that I really liked.

Would a kid even like this episode?

#derision #derision salt #an essay by zoe

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brandycranby · 5 months

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ce characters + their skill at wrapping presents (based on technique, style, and enthusiasm) 🎁✨

crocheting a last minute gift rn hehe

steve: 9.5/10. the military precision comes in clutch when it's time to measure out wrapping paper. if he's not doing the wrapping himself, he's at your elbow with tape strips and scissors when you need them. gift bags? hell no, back in his day, presents were wrapped (ok old man 🙄💕) heh expect steve to come home with half a dozen new tubes of gift wrap because he just can't resist the cuteness (target snoopy paper, beloved 🥺💕)

andy: 7/10. if he did it himself that is 😌 this is a man of experience and few close relatives. the holidays are a quiet uneventful time for him (besides the odd party) and he spends it with you, showering you in gifts and treats for the new year. most of those treats come with complimentary gift wrapping that he'll most definitely take advantage of hehe if not, he's a sparkly gift bag kinda guy

ari: 8/10. he doesn't have much skill at getting those sharp corners on a wrapped box but can he curl a ribbon or what? great color sense, he doesn't look like it but he can tell a french silver from classic silver 😌💕 whatta man whatta man. eight presents though, that's a lot of gift ideas to come up with. defaults to cash and gift cards for some nights, slaps a ribbon on top and adds mesh bag of chocolate coins and calls it a night

johnny: 6/10. look, he's a guy. still, he's a guy with a big sister. sue comes over and they make a night in of it. wrapping paper is everywhere, someone gets hit with a tube, nothing's lit on fire but reed's gift is singed and labeled "to: asshole". it's probably just fruit of the loom boxers. your gift though? he keeps adding stocking stuffers until sue makes him use a wicker basket to hold everything bc "it's chic, johnny, and a paper bag can't hold all of that."

ransom: 5/10 +3 effort points. ONCE HE TRIES?? HE TRIES!!! i mean not for his parents' gifts, he probably amazon shipped those to their house. but he'll pull out the ribbons, the glitter, the tinsel, the special wrapping paper just for you 🥹💕 ransom doesn't really Get It, not until you have a day of present prep with him. cups of hot drinks and a movie on in the back, that sort of warm nostalgia that's so familiar yet distant from what he's known 🥺surprisingly good eye for it

jake: 4/10. oh lord he tries. he tries so damn hard. the living room is a wreck, there's tape everywhere and mismatched wrapping paper. he measures a length of paper too small and worries about cutting another one because you like that paper!! you'd probably cry if he wasted it!! so he takes a discard piece and kinda... band-aids it together... oh baby 😔 also how do you wrap plushies??? (put it in a box, jake, please put it in a box)

curtis: 7/10. solid score because he goes for maximum efficiency and doesn't take a break until every single present is completely hidden in gift wrap, tissue paper, ribbons, bows, and a gift tag. would be a 10 if he was a little more fancy and a little less practical about his present style. but he has the assembly line efficiency and it helps you get everything done in one day so kudos 😊 points off for getting suspicious when you take a long pee break tho

---

since i've started writing this hc list, i've redone my amigurumi THREE TIMES. why do i do this to myself. i also wrapped last minute gifts like a jake today heh

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slytherinsrule89 · 8 days

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Hii how are you? Love your blog 🎀

May i ask for a request of the boys dating someone from hufflepuff or other houses?

Byye 🌸

Hello lovely, I’m doing well and hope you are as well :) I’m so glad you love my writing and I’m glad you requested this

Slytherin boys x Hufflepuff!reader

Hufflepuff Reader :)

Tom

Tom was quite skeptical of you at first because you were a Hufflepuff but it was soon after he had learned just about everything about you that he had asked you out. Well more manipulation happened than actually asking you out, but you know whatever works. It took him a while to get used to your bubbly personality and positive attitude but he managed, just so that he could say that your beautiful face belonged to him and only him. As we all know he’s quite possessive so when you are talking to your friends or even just strangers, with that great big smile of yours, he’s always there watching. Making sure that if the person you’re talking to even steps a toe out of line he will be behind you in an instant. You guys were an unpredicted couple that no one would have ever guessed but somehow you two still made it work. Plus it’s not like Tom would ever let you leave him.

Blaise

Blaise had a soft spot for Hufflepuffs. He liked their positive personality and hardworking dedication. So it wasn’t much of a surprise when Blaise had started to fancy you. He had asked you out as soon as possible and when you agreed with that kind smile you always wore he was ecstatic. Blaise had poured his whole heart and soul into that date and it was a start to a great relationship with him. He’d often sit with you in the library when you’d help tutor the younger students. Always watching and admiring how good you were with people. Doing it all with such grace and confidence. Something Blaise admired about you the most was how humble you were. Most of the guys in his house were constantly bragging about this and that constantly trying to one up each other. So when he noticed you were quite the opposite he got comfortable with you quite quickly.

Theo

Originally Theo had only been talking to the Hufflepuffs to get some weed for the Slytherin parties and well, his own personal use too. But never once did he expect to come across you. When you had first started talking to each other Theo had made it clear to everyone that you were his only. Even before you guys started dating.He had a tendency to go a bit quiet when there were a lot of people in the room and a lot of talking. So when you guys finally started dating and he had realized just how much people enjoy talking to you on a daily basis he was a bit quiet. You were quick to pick up on it though and reassured him a lot. Eventually though Theo had gotten used to it and actually admired how kind and helpful you were to everyone. And it also wasn’t long before Theo grew comfortable enough to talk more while you were with friends. Theo was always cheered up at the way you face lit up when he had talked along with you and your friends and had simply talked more just to see it.

Mattheo

Mattheos first encounter with you was interesting to say the least. He had just finished a fight and was up in the Astronomy towers smoking a couple cigarettes to calm himself down. That was when you had come up there and saw him frowning at his busted up knuckles and his cut lip. You were quick to take out your small first-aid kit and sit him down on the ground of the tower quickly cleaning him up. He was shocked of course, being the dark lord's son and all he wasn’t used to this treatment but quickly learned to enjoy it. When he realized how much he craved to be near you all the time he was quick to ask you out and make it a special night as well. The whole time after that first date Mattheo started noticing the smaller things about you. Like how much you valued your friends, how loyal you were, and just how pure you heart was. He enjoyed the change in pace and didn’t want it any other way.

Enzo

Enzo had had a few Hufflepuff friends that he’d hang around with when he got tired of the Slytherins rowdiness. One day when he was with his few Hufflepuff friends in their common room, he met you. You were very kind to him right off the bat and drew him in like a magnet without even trying. Enzo knew right away that he wanted to be with you and didn’t waste any time asking you to be his girlfriend. When you happily agreed Enzo did everything in his power to be the best of the best boyfriend. While Enzo thought all Hufflepuffs were more of perfect beings he wasn’t too far off but one thing he did notice is when you put others above yourself but he had no part in that. He started quickly making sure that you made time for yourself and weren’t stretching yourself too wide for other people. Something he’d do for the rest of your lives with no fault.

I really enjoyed writing it and am quite happy with how it turned out. Hope you all enjoy 😊

#slytherin boys #slytherin #theo nott #:) <33 #blaise zabini #lorenzo berkshire #tom riddle #mattheo riddle #hufflepuff #hufflepuff!reader #x reader

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dimepdf · 9 months

Text

★ 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄. + 𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑

masterlist. / taglist. / tip jar. synopsis. crowded in a full club with a crowd of familiar faces, the last person you wanted to ever see again was your ex. Luckily, Eren swoops to safety, wanting to keep your mood high and wants to save the night by taking a more direct approach.

✧. ┊ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭notes. this took way too long to write, good lord I was struggling to choose if I wanted to write a jungkook fanfic or this,, the brain rot is getting bad ya'll pray for me to unclench that seven days a week song from my hands | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

✧. ┊ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭ ⁭length. 3.5k (27 min read) .

THE MUSIC THUMPED through the planked floors of the room to the vibrate of the bottom of your chunky heels. Dim, low, orange lights outlined the many figures that were scattered around the condensed club that had a known wait line outside that was close to wrapping around the building and down the rest of the block.

Luckily, your name was printed in bold black at the top of the exclusive people list, one of the many perks of being friends with your friend Connie, who somehow managed to be the owner of the most infamous bar in the city.

Dragging your friend group out for the stress free weekend, wanting nothing more but to get drunk under someone else’s tab.

After the pretty rough recent breakup you had with your sistutionship that Mikasa and Sasha were just so tired of hearing you mope about through the many group chat messages and facetime calls they had to endure with you yapping about another guy from Tinder ghosting you.

The offer of filling your poor little heartbroken spirit with many many free shots was enough to get your ass off your couch and squeezed into an old cute red mini dress that hugged your curves just a little too much that if you stared for just a bit too long you would see the slight outline of the cute lace matching set under.

Especially where it stopped at the mid peak of your thighs, the material plumping out around the tight hem giving you a very attractive and alluring sight for anyone that so happened to trail their eyes down your adorned figure.

In short, you were prepared to take it all off at the end of the night, and by God’s will, you hoped to end up in your birthday suit, tangled up with some handsome suitor willing to fuck away all the pent-up fustration that your blessed rose touch failed to reach under the blankets.

Eren, to no one's surprise, hadn’t gotten the same idea, the timid soul drawing something close to his normal casual attire did not really know what was club appropriate, no matter how many times your friend group would drag him along on a night out just to drink the boy out of his shell.

Tonight, surprisingly, he was the only one in the friend group chat to give a hurried response to your nighting invitation, watching from your palm-resting chin as he babysat his second drink.

Letting out a covered chuckle at every grimace that would twist on his lips that you couldn't tell was because of the sip of alcohol or the fact that he was buzzing with anxiety, refusing to leave your sight.

The music in the dimly lit open room thumped through the floorboards, the air wafting with desperate cheap cologne and hard bar liquor. You had to admit that seeing him glued to his spot beside the bar was a bit funny.

Avoiding any lick of interaction with anyone as his sight would dip whenever anyone would push through near him, the way his shoulder stood up tense as his hand clutched his drink to the long line of girls that would stumble up to him as if he were their lighthouse beacon, their exchange awkward as Eren would often play the same "I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the music card." just to shoo them away nervously back to the dancefloor.

You couldn't blame the ladies for at least giving it a try; you could admit that Eren did look good, especially under the club's light. The leanness of his sleeper build made the fill out of his dark brown button-up shirt alluring with the aid of the peek of his slightly muscled arms.

His shoulder-length shaggy dark brunette hair tugged lazily into a half ponytail, leaving wisps of hair from his face-framing bangs, made him look as if he had walked straight out of some male model ad, from the fashion to the accidental aloof attitude that he naturally radiated.

Relaxing some of the tensation from his shoulders, Eren’s lips parted with a slight sigh before nervously fiddling with the rolled up cuffs of his shirt, his eyes easing from his lap to sneak a quick glance at you, almost flinching out of his poor skin when he had met your rested glance.

His eyes widened a bit in surprise, his tongue poking from his parted mouth almost as if his thoughts had interrupted him from speaking before your eyes could track down the slight bob of his adams apple. "I don't—I don’t think I got to tell you yet, but you look really gorgeous tonight, I like your…hair." His tone held a bit of a tremble, the stutter in his voice was the realization that he had to speak a bit louder of the music even with you sitting on the stool right beside him.

You were definitely a little caught off guard, Eren wasn't the type to suddenly dish out compliments, let alone notice the fine details about someone’s appearance to save his life. You could recall the times Connie would make it a game to see how long Eren would go until he would realize the change in his appearance.

"Hm, you don't think it's too much?" You asked, leaning in a bit into his personal space and keeping a level tone as you spoke into the direction of his ear, pretending like you had seen Eren react in a tense fluster, his fingers tensely gripping his cup with your sudden proximity. "I mean, with the color and all." Your lips curve into a slight charmed smile, finger caught twirled around a newly dyed dark auburn curl, watching the coil spring back into place with a tug.

Eren's gray eyes followed the swipe of your finger as you moved away from his personal space and rested your back against the bar stool. It looked as though Eren was being drawn in by your actions.

The interaction consists of him merely nodding his head and remarking, "Well, I like the color, I think it suits you." The conversation did not lead anywhere else as your attention had shifted once more towards the dancing crowd, scanning the mingling group of people until your heart skipped a beat at the sight of a certain person in particular that stood a few feet away.

Your sudden switch to having a discomforting mood had not gone unnoticed, Eren’s head turned at the slightest frown of your brows, scanning over the open crowd with no avail to what had soured your mood so quickly. "Hey, what happened?" Your trance not budging at the sound of his question, your attention tugging onto whatever you were across the room glaring at.

It was only when the brush of his palm caressed against your lower thigh that his fingers danced warmly against the exposed leg of your skin, despite the soothing cold sensation welcomed from the silver rings that had adorned his fingers fashionably, his touch being enough to stir you away had you finally looked at him.

"You okay?" A static-like shock trail ran through your nerves, not only from his hand placement but also from the way he had somehow zoned you into feeling like you two had been the only two people in the room just by the way he was looking at you.

The lighting was deemed dangerous, with your brain buzzing from how well it had sculpted Eren’s features, from his defined cheekbones to the alluring yet genuine and compassionate dark glint in his eyes.

You had swallowed before remembering how to speak, praying that the way his eyes traced over the nervous habit you had of biting the skin at your lower lip was all just in your fucked-up horny mind.

That would be the only way you could have been thinking about Eren in such a risque way. "No, no, it's just my ex is here." Not even enough in you anymore to sigh, you couldn't turn your head before Eren could scoot you close in within his presence by the grasp he had on the underside of the stool you sat perched on. "Sorry, it just kind of caught me off guard, I guess."

Eren’s attention was completely devoted to you, his eyes carefully watching every twist and turn of your expressions, zoned in completely on your mood as it drained into something sour and insecure. You tried to keep up the front that you were trying to force out that you were having a good time—anything to help pry your ex’s eyes away from you as he seemed to be drifting closer and closer towards you as the night continued to painfully slowly unfold.

"Hey," you flinch as Eren laces his fingers between yours, this thumb rubbing comforting circles against your knuckles. "Sorry, what do you want to do? Wanna get out of here?" he asks, with his eyes searching to latch onto anything that would express how you felt.

"Um, yeah, I think I've had enough for tonight," you admit, holding your breath at the way Eren’s hand slid from your thigh to your lower back as you rose from your seat. His dark eyes traced over your stiff movements carefully, eyes flickering nervously over the allure of your attractive curves, especially how dangerous they looked squeezed into your dress.

"I want to—" You watched him wince, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment before looking back at you with a shy glance, almost as if he had to bite his tongue and start over to stop himself from saying something. "Did you want to come back to mine?"

★ . . . !

Time had to be an illusion. Eren didn't care too much about religion, but he was convinced that maybe he was just dead and this was him experiencing his own personal depiction of heaven.

From the whirlwind of events that began with him boldly inviting you back to his apartment, to the length of the very flushing conversation the two of you had on the car ride back, to the two of you laying limbs tangled against his mattress, everything about the way the night had unfolded seemed like something straight from one of his wet dreams.

Eren even let a few stray tears spill past his thick, wet lashes from how touch-deprived you reminded him he was as he trembled in response to your lewd touch. Each stroke of your soft palm against the shaft of his dick entices an embarrassing, needy whine from his throat as his hips fuck against your slow, teasing hold.

The lights from the flat-screen TV that was mounted at the front of his bed illuminated as the show played. While the unattended lights from the show, which had been long ignored, only helped define the gleaming beauty of your features and sparkling dress.

In spite of the wicked work that your left fist was carrying out, he thought that you looked undoubtedly angelic. Eren was also convinced that he was going through some kind of brain rot with his badly clouded thoughts from how the only thing that could slip past his lips was the desperate, choked whimpers of your name.

A light strawberry flush spread from the bite of his cheeks to the trail of his heaving chest. Eren was too tied into the bubbling effects of pleasure, causing his nerves to melt under the touch of your palm. His own fist gripped, white-knuckled, into the pillow resting under his head. As his other hand grasped less tightly, his fingers wrapped fully around the wrist of your hand, which continued to pump his cock at a steady pace.

Even with his jittering nerves, he could still feel the sparkling, sticky gloss of your trial of nibbling kisses stick to the soft skin of his neck. Your lips ghost close to the shell of his earlobe, sending a welcomed sensation up his arched spine. "You have to talk to me, Eren. Tell me what you feel, honey."

Overwhelmed with just so many new sensations, Eren felt like he was just close to sobbing from how good he felt from the pleasure. You couldn't help but wait for his answer with a very self-satisfied smirk as he gasped at the kiss you placed right under his ear.

"It feel–" he swallowed back the words he struggled to choke on, "it feels really good, please." He hadn't even known what he was begging for, from just your touch. He had melted into a mumbling, brainless, shuddering puddle of nothing with each kiss and sleek stroke.

"Hm, Does it now?" You were practically torturing the poor man, knowing exactly what you were doing when you talked to him in that sultry, flirty tone of yours. Rising from his side to sit perched with your knees pressed into the blanket of his soft duvet. Eren stared up at you as if he were entranced by your every move, his adam's apple bobbing with a thick swallow as your thick lips curled into an even more flattering, sweet smile.

His cock ached over the loss of your touch, as if it weren't enough that you left him breathless, you had to muster the nerve to undress in front of him.

Sliding the straps of your dress over your shoulders and reaching behind you to unzip yourself loose, his eyes refused to leave yours as you yanked yourself out of the fabric with a kick, revealing the drooling sight of the hidden dark maroon matching set that had been tucked away underneath. Simply saying, "Come here." was enough to get him to crawl over to you.

Reaching out with an unsteady hand, his eyes glued to your chest, he sighs at just how perfectly your tits sit before placing his hands against them and gently fondling you, despite the pained look screwed on his face that you couldn't help but to bite back a chuckle at.

You had to admit that you found him very attractive—the sight of his pale, slender fingers dancing against your warm brown skin. Even with a layer of lace in the way, the feeling between your thighs still grew more agnited with the brush of his silver rings fumbling clumsily over your budding dark nipples.

Letting an encouraging moan part from your lips, Eren hadn't even gotten enough time to breathe in his new-found sense of appraisal, as the movement of your own hands unbuttoning the rest of his shirt left him feeling under your control once more.

Opening his shirt with a bit of an inpatient tug, you apologized, "Sorry, you just have too many clothes on." It was a soft moment that both of you got to chuckle over as you helped him shoulder out of his button shirt as well as the muscle tee he wore under it with a shared giggle to ease back the tenseness.

"You should lay back," you said, running your fingers down his naked chest. Eren has just the right amount of muscle, his skin torso bundling with a lean peak of a six pack, almost as if he had accidentally gotten a ripped figure without even really trying. His greenish flag was just how damn attractive he managed to be, yet how unbelievably unaware he was of his own insufferable good looks.

“Wait." Eren sighs, his fingers instead threading themselves in between your wandering hand, just inches away from brushing against his very clear erection.

"Just give me—give me a second, please?" struggle to find the correct words, cursing the hard task of speaking, especially as all you did was watch the form of his lips with every word. Eren was surprised that he could even steady his breathing enough with how obviously you sat back and watched him catch his breath with that pretty smirk on your mouth that he wanted so badly to kiss, but he knew it would only rile him up more.

After his small recoup of mercy, you helped him out of the rest of his jailing clothes. Only peppering around his face with quick kisses, knowing how sensitive Eren truly was, even as he squirmed around the feeling of your hand's gentle touch, putting his length into a condom, with his head tilted back and his eyes screwed shut.

You were truly surprised to see firsthand how touched and starved the man was. As you positioned his length near your entrance and slowly sheathed down on his cock, his hands were uncertain as to whether they wanted to hug around your hips or fondle with your tits.

The sensation takes a minute of stillness and shifting for not just Eren to get used to, not surprised on your part by your months of dry spell suddenly being broken with a bigger than average-length bulge while resting itself inside of you.

Every squirming inch of him inside is rudely rubbing against your warm walls as Eren's hands dig into the plush skin of your waist as if it were any more possible to hug the curve of your ass down against him. Feeling the tense muscles of his raised thighs against the brush of your behind, you both just needed a moment of relative stillness to allow your bodies to become more politely accustomed to the new sensation.

"Tell me when it gets too much." You let out a sigh as you gazed in awe at the man below you, Eren's hips shifting up at the hush warning in response. As you lifted yourself up with your hands resting to steady yourself against his torso. Leaning in closer towards him to get a better look at his glossy eyes, they mirrored the expression of awe that was on your face, and they continued to do so even as you sank back down onto his length.

Your pace would grow more excited, fueled by the punched-out groans of pleasure that would tumble from Eren's throat at the sensation of your pussy engulfing his cock completely. He hadn't bothered to cover his mouth, and with each shift of your hips, a string of whines would follow as he would praise your name as if he were mumbling a prayer.

The bedstrings of his mattress, accompanying the grunt of his lewd moans. Repeatedly, your hips would slam against his, aiding in the tense curl of his toes and the dizzy feeling he would get from throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut so tightly he was starting to see stars.

His hands held a death grip against your shifting waist, holding onto you as you tortured him at the unforgiving, grinding pace at which you bounced on his lap. "I— I can't, please, oh fuck—uh god." Eren would plead with you as if your entire world were in your hands. "I can't—I need to, please." Riddled with so much emotional desperation, and yet the last thing you wanted to do was hand him an orgasm so easily, the aroused part of you clenched at the sound of his begging.

"Just let it go, Ren." You sigh into his ear, gasping at the way his hips bucked into you in response. He was definitely working to do so, the slight switch of your control not flattering his pure sexual need as he squirmed all he could to chase after the slow grind of your hips.

His body begged him to keep going, the need to want to drag it out as long as he could to stretch the knot as far as it would be possible let him not want the moment to end laying under your touch. Fueled by the sheer absolute pleasure that washed over him the moment he felt your lips part tongue poke out to suck under the sensitive spot under his ear, a melted expression stretched on his bitten sore lips as his hips buck under you.

You hadn't bothered to give him any more mercy than what you had already graced upon him. Every twitch and tremble felt beneath the warmth of your skin as you returned to your hips and began to meet Eren’s thrust, his moans sounding almost close to poetic. With overly drawn-out vowels and pitched whines, it brought you both to sheer intimate ecstasy.

It took a few sighs and some soothing touches to replace the hard press of his nails digging into the hips of your flesh. Even sharing a small kiss was maybe crossing a few boundaries, but both of you were too fucked out to care for the moment. After a few tosses and turns, Eren dragged the blankets to cover the both of you, kissing your bare shoulder blade as you crawled to lay down tucked under his arm.

"Do you…do you want to stay over?" It was hard for Eren to search for the right words to say, especially with his inability to even breathe correctly. He copied the way your chest rose and fell, knowing you could hear every thump and bump of his heart beating from his chest.

"I’d like that," you lean up to say, showing off that pretty smile that had him so entangled in the first place.

"If that's okay with you?" Eren didn’t mind one bit, snuggling the girl right in front of him closer to his chest with contentment.

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#[ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ★ — t.wrks. ]#eren yeager #eren jeager #eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut #eren jeager x reader #aot smut

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anthracite-writes · 10 months

Note

hiya! can you do the brothers with a gn!mc whos kinda popular with other demons? i just think that overtime demons have become curious since theyve managed to grab the attention of the brothers and dateables

Obey Me! Imagines - Demon Brothers X Popular!GN! Reader [SFW]

A//N: Ohhh, intresting - I'll try my best with this one! I hope you enjoy it! Apologies in advance if I misinterpreted your request or if it's a bit OOC.

NOT PROOF READ!! APOLOGIES FOR ANY TYPOS OR SPELLING ERRORS! - PS; Congrats, you're my first request submission <3

Summary: Demon brothers with a popular GN! Reader. Your popularity was fairly lowkey when you arrived in the Devildom just because of pure curiosity, but once word gets around about your Pact making with the 7 Brothers and you managed to become such close friends with both Lord Diavolo, Barbatos, Luke and Simeon in such a shot time - that's when your popularity skyrockets and everyone wants a piece of you. You're practically a minor celeberty in the Devildom, but - how exact does the Demon brother's feel about it? - CW//TW; Minor jealous behaviour, possessive behaviour [Lucifer & Mammon], some angst??? [Leviathan]

𝗟𝘂𝗰𝗶𝗳𝗲𝗿

At first, he didn't mind it - you're the human transfer student, of course the other demons in the Devildom would take an interest in you just out of curiosity.

Once word gets around about your achievements in such a short time - that's when it catches the Prideful Demon's attention.

The fact that there were so many eyes on you, watching your every move with your sudden popularity - you were bound to have some students that were interested in you, wanting your attention, etc.

Extremely good at masking his jealousy.

Why is he jealous exactly? All the attention you have on you is taking away time and attention you usually have on him and him alone.

Absolutely hates it when your attention is pulled away from him just because some RAD student wanted to ask or talk to you for a bit.

He draws the line when he catches wind that some demons are developing feelings for you and confessing said feeling from your popularity.

They've been taking your time and attention with they're curiosity long enough and he won't stand for this any longer, he would pull you aside;

"Have you forgotten the terms of our pact, Y/N?" He says in a hushed voice, leaning in close to your ear as he holds you by the shoulders with firm hands after he had pulled you aside from prying eyes of other students, "I hate that you're attention is never on me now, you know how much I hate being ignored..." "I don't care how popular you get," He pulls way slowly as he tilts your head up to force your eyes to meet his, "I want your eyes on me and only me, at all times. Got it?"

𝗠𝗮𝗺𝗺𝗼𝗻

Oh, he was never on board with your popularity to begin with when you first arrived.

That meant he actually had to do his job as your supervisor to stop you from getting eaten by other demons.

When your popular grew more and more, that's when he started getting [a TON] tiny bit jealous. And he's very vocal about it.

Mans greedy for your attention and you being popular, having people around you all up in your business doesn't sit well with him at all.

He's extremely impatience when your talking to other demons when you two are hanging out - crossing his arms and getting all pouty.

Once he even sees another demon show any interest in you, he's gonna make a scene.

Makes a bigger scene if a demon even tries to make any romantic advancements with you due to said popularity - "Nu-huh! They're not into you, now go. It's my time with Y/N, you're cutting in."

Mammon takes you hand in his as you two walked back to the House of Lamentation after a little walk around the shops, you can feel his hand squeeze yours slightly as he tenses up. "Y/N..." Mammon starts, getting your attention. "I should have priority over everyone else." He says, looking away from you slightly, covering his face slightly with the back of his hand to hide his settle blush on his cheeks. "I get your suddenly all popular and all but... I want you to pay attention to me, I am your first after all."

𝗟𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻

Doesn't care that much to begin with, that's normie behaviour and he's not about that.

Besides, he hates the crowds you draw in with your popularity so he chooses not to hang around you that much.

Though, he does envy you but would never admit it out loud and word for word, probably would beat around the bush.

When your popularity grows more and more as the more things you achieve in the Devildom - that's when the reality kicks in for him.

You suddenly have so many friends and so many admires, and he gets it - you're so much cooler than him, why would people want to hang around a yucky otaku like him.

Watches on from a far, seeing you happily interact with other demons from your popularity only worsens his feelings.

Watching you - his only friends slowly drift off from him, he doesn't try to salvage the relationship he once had with you.

He just reminisces while in room - remembering how you two use to game together, all the anime marathons and watch parties you two had, read manga together, etc.

When he does see you, he just only has very surface level conversations with you [ex. weather, classes, what you've been up to, etc.] - no longer having he's rabbit-hole rambles about the newest game he's been playing, animes he's been watching, manga he's been reading, etc.

He doesn't want to eat up too much of you're time knowing you have other friends that were probably more fun to be around than him.

Often cuts conversations short in an abrupt manner with you if you start the conversation yourself .

Falls back to his habit of locking himself in his room for days on end - opting to just take the classes online / independent learning - refusing to leave beside for the necessities.

"...Maybe it's for the best, if I were Y/N, I wouldn't want to be around me either..." Leviathan mumbles to himself, curled up on a beanbag and leaning up against his room's tank wall's glass as he watched Henry 2.0 swim around the coral and rocks in the lonesome tank. "Why would Y/N want to hang around a yucky otaku like me? I just haul up in my room like the shut-in I am... I'm probably so boring to be around... and annoying with how much I talk..." he said with a sigh, looking at the goldfish that was now staring at him from inside the tank, "At least I got you... you're my friend. Right, Henry?" Silence filled the room, only the tank's heater and filter whirring audible. Leviathan pressed his forehead against the tanks glass as he felt his chest tighten followed by a lump in his throat formed, his eyes watering up. "I miss them so much..." He said quietly as his voice cracked, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes as he tries to stop tears flowed from his eyes and down his cheeks. As much as he tried to deny it, with your popularity - he's just no longer your friend. He's just now sees himself as another person in the faceless crowd to you.

𝗦𝗮𝘁𝗮𝗻

Honestly doesn't care much for your popularity.

Genuinly, he's quite impressed with how popular you gotten in the Devildom with you're achievements.

Though, does worry about you from time to time due to you being close to Diavolo so... there's that.

He doesn't want other demons to take advantage with your ties and popularity.

Other than that, he's really not that responsive to your popularity, even if it grows.

Most likely, you might have the same connection as him due to your popularity so you two go to exclusive events [restaurant grand openings, friends/acquaintances only parties/events, etc]

If that's the case, he's glad to have you there - having a familiar face in the room really puts him at ease.

"Hey, Y/N." He calls out to you as he makes his way through the crowd of demons mingling and talking amongst themselves, seeing you stand off to the side of the room - taking a break from all the socializing. "How are you feeling? Do you want to head out for a breather with me?" He asks with a soft smile, offering you his arm. "You must be a bit tired from talking to all these people - especially with the respect you've garnered amongst other demons. If you'd like to join me, I know a good place to get away for a little social break."

𝗔𝘀𝗺𝗼𝗱𝗲𝘂𝘀

Absolutely ecstatic that you're finally getting the popularity and recognition in the Devildom.

You do have a pact with him anyways, it's what he expects - the more eyes on you, the more eyes on him by proxy.

He constantly brags that he knows you on a personal level, but would never indulge in any information - he doesn't kiss and tell <3

Would take you to so many parties so you can get to know more Demons than you already know just from your popularity alone.

He's most likely by your side whenever you two are out in public, he LOVES attention and your popularity helps with getting stares and all.

Def. introduces you to all his friends like... 99% of new people you now know is all thanks to Asmo.

Does get a bit pouty when you two are out and random demons try to talk to you.

Usually doesn't mind it but he does have his limits - is it because he's not getting the attention from the people who are fascinated by you and your achievements or is it because he doesn't have your attention and he craves your attention alone?

A mix of both post likely, one more than the other - which one favours over the other? That's for Asmo to know and you to find out.

The two of you were out clubbing with a couple of Asmo's friends but it seemed like the Avatar of Lust's friends were more intrested in you than him, asking you about what's it like to be so close to Diavolo or what's the celestial realm like since you're really close to the angels. Asmo had enough of this, downing the rest of his Demonus and putting his glass down with a tap as he rose to his feet in a a swift manner. "Y/N, let's go dance~" He says with his usual happy-go-lucky voice, not even waiting for an answer before taking your hand and pulling you out of the private room right into the hallway. He pushes you against the wall gently, putting an hand next to your head - pinning you up against the wall as the club's music bumped in the distance. "It's my turn to give you attention, Y/N." He whispered as he leaned in close to your ear, his tone now almost a purr as he spoke. "I'll be sure not to bore you with question like my friends back there~"

𝗕𝗲𝗲𝗹𝘇𝗲𝗯𝘂𝗯

Doesn't let it affect him.

He doesn't mind the fact you're popular, just doesn't like it when you two get interrupted when you two are out.

When you two are out buying snacks and someone recognizes you and starts chatting with you when he's was in the middle of asking you something - he gets kinda upset but not really.

But due to Beel's sometimes expressionless face, the demon that interuping you two's bonding time usually backs off.

In a way, he's kinda like a body guard for you.

Due to his sheer size and the common knowledge he's extremely strong - demons that do post a threat or just want to interact with you back off immediately when you're with this guy.

But the fact your popularity has some perks, that catches his attention.

When you admirer gifts that are food related [and trust me, that a lot of the time] - don't worry, Beel would happily take that off your hands if you allow him to.

"Y/N, do you want get these Hellfire Spicy Newt Chips? This flavour is new-" Beel's words trail off when he sees you talking to another demon, 'Huh, must be one of the demons curious about Y/N...' he thought as he stood up straight, his build and large figure towering over you as he stared intently at you're interaction - just waiting for the conversation you're having to end with the lesser Demon. He notices the other demon's eyes slowly drift up and look at him, suddenly ending the conversation you where having with them and rushing off down the opposite direction of the store aisle you two were in. You look up at Beel with a confused look painted on your face from the lesser Demon's sudden choice to end the conversation abruptly. Beel just shrugged in response and held the chip bag he was holding, "Do you want Hellfire Spicy Newt Chips too, Y/N?"

𝗕𝗲𝗹𝗽𝗵𝗲𝗴𝗼𝗿

Like his twin, really doesn't care that your popular.

Matter of fact, he uses it to his advantage all while looking after you.

How exactly? You two a little routine that you two do.

He's already waiting in the attic for you, laying down on the sleeping area he had made when he was held captive up there or in his shared bedroom with Beel - probably already napping.

He senses when you enter the room, he waits up from his slumber and invites you to nap with him.

Gives you cuddles and uses you as a human body pillow while the two of you naps,

Listens to you talk about the latest happenings in you new life being popular in the Devildom - gossip and all.

He stays awake long enough to watch you fall asleep next to him before falling asleep himself.

He lets out a soft while as he stirs awake, hearing someone enter the room. Just from the sound of the footsteps, he knew who it was. "Y/N... you're home..." Belphie welcomes you in his hald-asleep toned voice, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He scoots a bit on the mattress - inviting you to lay with him. Once he feels the mattress sink as you lay beside him, he scoots back that his body was pressed against your back, you feel his arms wrap around you and a leg straddle over your hip as if the sleepy demon was using you as a body pillow. "You must be tired, Y/N... it must have been an eventful day..." he mutters into your clothed back as he presses his face into it, his eyes fluttering closed comforted by your warmth. "Tell me all about it..."

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fandom-go-round · 10 months

Text

To Be a Songbird: Part One

Summary: Arranged marriages are wonderful when they work and disastrous when they don’t. The funny part? You never thought that you’d be in this situation. You had always wanted to marry your betrothed and now you’re single. What a joy.

Vil x Reader x Leona

Part One (Here!), Part Two , Part Three

Welcome to the second story for wedding month! This story has some wedding themes that I’m only now realizing lol. I hope that you enjoy! Also: I haven’t decided the final pairing so if you have some thoughts please let me know!

Warnings: Arranged Marriage, Insecure Thoughts (Reader), Political Drama

To love, in Twisted Wonderland, can be a curse. Not in the literal sense (unless you pissed someone off) but because things always ended up on the extremes. It was either a fairy tail happy ending or a villain’s goodbye. The higher up in class you went, the worse it got. Being next in line to a Dukedom (not officially the heir), love isn’t something in the cards. Even for you.

Partly that was because you were already in love. In love with someone that you had grown up with, someone who had seen you at your worst moments. Someone who had once claimed that he wanted nothing more than to marry you. Of course, that was a long time ago. Now, he doesn’t want you. Now, you’re too insecure to stay but self-respecting enough to break it off. Now, you’re going to break your own heart.

Today, you break your engagement since childhood with Vil Schoneheit.

♥

This isn’t how you planned the night to go. Tonight, you had been invited out to party based on your own status. Vil had been invited separately and you hadn’t mentioned anything to him. He would insist one of you skipped and you weren’t willing to compromise after another skipped meeting. You had your own business to conduct damn it. You were going to chat with your friends a bit, talk about the newest peace treaty and avoid Vil.

Everything went perfectly fine. Vil had seemed annoyed but said nothing once he saw you. That’s all he looked at you with anymore; annoyance or contempt. You ignored him, doing what you set out to do and having a great time. You were even able to get Duke Rosehearts to agree to meet next month. No one was insulted, you smiled at some of the princes and princesses and headed home.

Vil was already waiting in the foyer as you pulled up, Charlotte helping slip your jacket off. He was pacing back and forth, glaring at the walls. It struck you that it had been years since Vil was in your home. Before he had gotten more serious about modeling. Before he was aiming to be Queen. Before he cut you out of his life. The last time he was in these walls the two of you were running around the garden with fake swords.

“Lord Schoneheit. What a late visit.” You raised your eyebrows, showing you were none too excited about him being here. All you wanted to do was sleep. Maybe draft a letter of reply to Prince Malleus. He turned at the sound of your voice, a curled smirk on his face. Even then he looked beautiful.

“Did you truly think I wouldn’t notice?” His question took you off guard and you paused, stopping in the hallway to stare at him. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Rook and Epel tense and wanted to sigh. There was always an audience now. They were good attendants and you appreciated them but you couldn’t be yourself.

Vil looked regal in his royal purple assumable, dress ending right above the floor and cape fanned out behind him. His makeup and hair were perfect and you would think he was going to a photo shoot. Rook, his right hand, was in a matching purple suit and cape down to his knees. Epel was also in a suit but in a purple so pale it looked almost white. He looked uncomfortable in the formal wear but had finally stopped picking at his collar.

“Notice what Vil?” You sighed, tired and not in the mood to play games. “I was ignoring you most of the night, like always.” You thought your reassurances would have made him feel better but instead he scowled more. His heels were muffled on the carpet and he didn’t sway at all on the uneven ground.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” You met his eyes and resisted the urge to step back. His heels made him taller than you and he wasted no time in looming.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You sidestepped him, not backing up but not letting him corner you. “You made it very clear that we’re not to interact in public and I have respected that.” You made to walk past him and he caught your arm, eyes blazing.

“You danced with other men tonight.” You scoffed, shaking your head.

“Of course I did, I was asked. What’s the issue with that?” Rook shifted at your question but you couldn’t look at him to confirm. Epel looked paler and moved back, shifting closer to Rook.

“You are not allowed to dance with anyone until you danced with your fiancé.”

“That’s ridiculous.” You wanted to scream. The rule did sound vaguely familiar but you weren’t going to admit that. Southern countries and their courting rules.

“You think that I wouldn’t notice? Are you trying to embarrass me?” What was left of your patience snapped as his icy tone. You turned on your heel and Vil’s eyes got wide at the emotion on your face.

“Embarrass you!? I can’t embarrass you when you’re never seen with me! When no one knows we’re engaged! What was I supposed to do, refuse to dance with the princes? I can’t do this anymore Vil!” You could hear gasps and footsteps running from behind you. Your parents would be coming to mediate soon. He started to call you name but you cut him off, shaking your head.

“I have no issue with your career. I’m glad that you’re happy and you’ve never once pushed away your duties as future Duke. I even agreed, reluctantly, to not announce our engagement.” You laughed bitterly, refusing to cry. “I’m not good enough for you and I can understand that but this is ridiculous! You can’t have it both ways!”

“I don’t want it both ways!” Vil’s voice rose to match your own, Rook and Epel watching the two of you like a volleyball game. “I want you to respect your station!”

“My STATION!?” Your voice was a roar. The door opened behind you and you ignored it, taking a step towards him. “You forget yourself! Our contract is based on equal terms! I refuse to do this anymore! I’m tired of waiting for you to call this engagement off! If you won’t pull this bandage off, I will. I am finished!”

The room was deathly silent. No one dared breathe. Vil looked like you had stuck him across the face. Finally, Rook stepped between the two of you and your mother grabbed your arm, pulling you back. Servants began whispering and talking, their eyes wide. Your father stepped up and began to direct people, for once no one putting up a fight.

The rest of the night was a blur. You don’t remember Vil leaving but now that the words were in the air, you couldn’t stop thinking about them. You loved Vil with all your heart but you couldn’t, not anymore. The years to trying to be what he wanted, failing, trying again and again with no change. There’s a part of you that knows he cares, of course he does, but you need more than pretending you don’t exist. You need some acknowledgment of your history, of the little boy who loved you. You need him.

When you wake up in the morning, the paperwork was all filled out. You signed it feeling numb and your parents only nodded. While a treaty with the Schoneheit Dukedom would benefit both countries, it wasn’t necessary to keep up relations and trade. You had spoken with your parents and they with Vil’s father (years ago) and you all knew; sooner or later, the engagement would be called off. No one had ever expected it to be from you.

Two weeks later, you were officially back on the dating market. Two weeks later, you had to learn to start putting your heart back together. Two weeks later and it was time to get over Vil Schoneheit.

♥

It took society by storm when news of your broken engagement became public knowledge. It took a couple of months to really gain traction and by then you were a little number. You had agreed to keep things cordial and say that the two of you broke mutually. Vil hadn’t tried to fight you, letting you lead the charge. He looks haunted every time you see him and it breaks your heart at the same time it infuriates you.

Leona can’t say that he’s surprised when he hears the news. He knew the two of you were engaged, even if you never talked about it. One of those things on public record that no one ever looks into. He’s only talked to you a handful of times, mostly on diplomatic visits. You’re smart and quick, a little too loud for his tastes and a little too soft.

You’re one of the heirs to the northern most Dukedom and one of the only kingdoms with a strong matriarchy. Your family isn’t as involved politically as others due to geographical location but a surplus of resources mean that you’re usually invited to the table. The Schonehiet Dukedom is on the southwest side of the boarder, one of your closest neighbors.

There’s been a lot of controversy from the other lords in the country, mostly around bloodline. Your mother had married your father, a commoner. The North has never been as concerned with bloodline as the Southern lands but it still caused quiet a shock. Even after almost 25 years, there were still some lords that refused to see your father as legitimate.

It was all stupid in Leona’s opinion but it made things interesting to watch. He was more interested in who would take the crown. Call it morbid curiosity but he wanted to know if the second born would become the new Duke. Your brother didn’t want it, as far as Leona could tell, but the advisors wanted someone who was easier to control. You had too much spirit, you would never let them take power. You brother had stronger magic, that was the rumor at least, and some were saying he had inherited the family’s unique magic as well.

The announcement that your engagement had ended was going to change the game. You had been off the market for years officially because of the engagement and unofficially because you always waved suitors off. Because there wasn’t a precedent, not one felt the urge to push you to accept courting. Now that had all been turned upside down. Not only were you “on the market”, you were willing to make treaties besides purely diplomatic.

Leona dozed in the afternoon sun, tail thumping against the ground at a steady pace. Marriage was something every royal was expected to do, even himself. He liked you, as much as he could like anyone and sticking it to Vil was always a bonus. A tiny part of him thought that it might be nice to run to the north and away from everything. He snorted, dismissing the idea. It was about power, nothing more and nothing less. He’d send you a letter in the morning; you had been asking to meet around shipping for a while now and Leona wasn’t going to deny you anymore.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagine #vil shoenheit x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #vil shoenheit #leona kingscholar #vil shoenheit imagine #leona kingsholar imagine #vil x reader x leona #twst x reader #twst vil #twst leona #royalty au #twst au #twst imagines

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starsreminisce · 3 months

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Some e/riels really want to make Elain the mean girl that they are

Well, here goes nothing...

Let's get one thing straight: Elain isn't going to march up to Gwyn and start a hair-pulling, milkshake-throwing, passive-aggressive showdown. Gwyn hasn't done anything to deserve that treatment. She can't help it if both Az and Nesta treat her differently from Elain. Elain's issue isn't with Gwyn. It's with Nesta. And now, we're seeing Elain push back against Nesta's overprotectiveness, especially when she volunteered to search for the trove.

Some fans seem to want Elain to become this vengeful, "mean girl" character, shedding her good-girl image to match Azriel's demeanor. But Elain's version of "mean" could cut Azriel to the core.

There's a kind of meanness that comes with laying bare someone's flaws—not to hurt, but to finally express what's been bottled up for too long. There's a meanness in honesty, too. Sometimes, you have to draw the line and speak your truth, even if it stings.

People don't suddenly grow claws. They've always been there, waiting to be wielded when necessary. And in SF, it looks like Elain's reached that point, where others are deciding her truth for her.

Sure, some fans are hoping for a Villain Elain, but it's ironic how we're demonized for standing up for ourselves or wanting to take up space. I think Elain's journey will be more about asserting herself and saying, "I need you to hear me."

But Nesta cut her off, seething at the pity about to be thrown her way. “Look who decided to grow claws after all,” she crooned. “Maybe you’ll become interesting at last, Elain.” Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike. Elain’s eyes brightened with pain. Something imploded in Nesta’s chest at that expression. She opened her mouth, as if it could somehow be undone. But Elain said, “I went into the Cauldron, too, you know. And itcaptured me. And yet somehow all you think of is what my trauma did to you.” Nesta blinked, everything inside her hollowing out.

Azriel struggles with criticism—we've seen it time and time again. That's why I doubt Az and Elain could work out. Elain is starting to call people out, and Az tends to freeze up when confronted. If Elain were to challenge Azriel over his objections to her searching for the trove, would it lead to a productive conversation? Their conversations could easily turn icy, as we've seen with Feyre's orders to him as his High Lady.

But there's someone who handles criticism well—or at least, better than Az.

My nails dug into my palms hard enough to hurt, but I remained seated on the bedroll as I bared my teeth at him. “And that’s why you’re here. Not because it’s right and he’s always been wrong, but just so you can get what you think you’re owed.” “She is my mate and in my enemy’s hands—” “I’ve made no secret from the start that Elain is safe and cared for.” “And I’m supposed to believe you.” “Yes,” I hissed. “You are. Because if I believed for one moment that my sisters were in danger, no High Lord or king would have kept me from going to save them.” He just shook his head, the candlelight dancing over his hair. “You have the gall to question my priorities regarding Elain—yet what was your motive where I was concerned? Did you plan to spare me from your path of destruction because of any genuine friendship, or simply for fear of what it might do to her?” I didn’t answer. “Well? What was your grand plan for me before Ianthe interfered?”

Lucien faced Feyre's accusations head-on when they clashed over priorities. He didn't deflect; he engaged. He was ready to hash it out, even when Feyre wasn't. Lucien could have abandoned her, returned to Tamlin, but he stayed. There was no bargain between them, so he had a choice—and he chose to stand by her.

I'm eager to see a showdown between Elain and Lucien about their bond. How will Lucien react when Elain claims he's entitled to her? And how will Elain respond when Lucien says he's done all he can to stay out of her life?

It promises to be a cathartic conversation, especially now that Elain's been rejected twice—presumably because of their bond.

#elucien #pro elucien #elain x lucien #antie/riel #antielriel #elain archeron #pro elain archeron

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seungiee-sunshine · 10 months

Text

{ 1:17 AM }

Paring; Bangchan x reader

wc: 1.6K (1,684 words)

Warnings: handjob, nipple play, public sex/exhibitionism, dirty talk... Name-calling (reader calls chan baby boy, baby, slut), cum eating, dom/sub dynamics, switch!Chan/switch!reader Chan calls the reader mommy, one slap on the cheek (the reader slaps Chan), and the reader is lowkey obsessed with Chan's tits.

Summary: Chan needed some new clothes, and you thought it would be nice to spend some quality time with him. However, a lot more than a little bonding time was in store for the two of you the second he decided to put on a shirt two sizes too small.

It had been a long, tireless workday, and you were ready to fling yourself onto your bed and snuggle up to your stuffies. Stupidly enough, you had promised to go shopping with Chan earlier that day since he was in need of some new shirts. And now here you were, eyes glued to your phone, as you waited for him to change and show you what he had picked out.

Most of his attire was black, per usual, and you were getting slightly irritated that your sleep was wasted on doing nothing but standing around or nodding on occasion. You loved Chan, but all he wore was black, and you could barely tell a difference in the shirts he was showing you.

One might've had a white line or logo from time to time, but other than that, they were all the same. You just wanted to go home and sleep.

However, you knew it would be a bad idea since as soon as Chan would arrive home, he would surely give you a good spanking for running off on him like that. as well as for going back on what you promised.

So you just sighed and sent a thumbs up his way as he strode out of the dressing room, not even caring to look up at what he was wearing, knowing it would be the same old black shirt and black basketball shorts.

Chan seemed to notice your lack of attention and walked up to you, snatching your phone from your hand and dangling it above your head. He was at least two heads taller than you, so there was no way you were getting your phone back unless you jumped. and no way in hell were you jumping in the skirt you had on.

"What's so important about this dinky little thing that you can't even bother to look up at me?" He asked, looking up at your phone screen and chuckling as the losing screen appeared.

"a game? I'm starting to think Felix and Lee know are rubbing off on your love," he stated with a dry chuckle before handing your phone back to you with a mischievous grin. You knew it was because of your reaction to his clothes, but how could you not react?

He was still wearing a simple black shirt, but, oh my Lord, was it tight as fuck on him? His nipples were poking out from the shirt, and you could almost see his abs through the thin material.

He knew all too well that you loved the sight of his abs and pecks. So he chose a shirt two sizes too small just to get you worked up. He was a man with needs, after all, and seeing your plush thighs press together and your body shake from arousal was a turn-on for him.

Your lip was caught in between your teeth, just as your breath was caught in your throat. He looked so delectable in that shirt. You would've loved nothing more than for him to fuck you right then and there. But you knew that, of course, no such thing was going to happen, but boy, could you wish your heart away for it.

You glare up at him, a small primal growl emitting from your throat. It wasn't long before you had dragged the man into the dressing room. making quick work of closing the door and locking it before turning back to your beloved.

"You know what happens when you pull this shit Christopher," you emit as you take a step closer to the now quivering man. He was very much a dom; however, at times like these, he somehow managed to make a drastic switch.

"I know, Mommy, but I can't help it; I just want some of your attention. It's always on that fucking phone of yours. I just-" He was cut off by a harsh slap to the cheek. His eyes watered as he looked up at you, eyes dark and blown out. He may have not expected the slap but he can say that he loved it with every fiber of his being.

"Language, baby boy," you mutter before grabbing ahold of his wrist and pulling him up so he was standing straight. Although making men shrink wasn't something that you considered a talent, most of the men you had been with could agree that it really was something that you perfected to a tee even if you didn't realize it.

"I'm sorry, Mommy, please don't slap me... I'll be a good boy, I promise!" He yelped as you slid your hand down his chest and suddenly grabbed a hold of one of his pecks, squeezing it hard.

Your nails dug into his skin, and he let out tiny mewls as you kneaded the flesh, occasionally pinching his hard nipples and twisting them just a tad bit to see the tears well up in his eyes. Soon enough, your assault on his sensitive chest was done, and your hand now traveled down to his torso, messing with the hem of the shirt as you spoke.

"I know, baby, I know you'll be a good boy for me. I just need you to promise me one more thing." He looked at you with an eyebrow cocked as he silently asked what you wanted from him. A shiver ran up his spine as your hand traveled lower until it reached the waistband of his pants.

You fiddled with the material and pulled it back before letting it go and giggling at the small cries that he let out at the sudden ounce of pain.

"Promise me you won't cum until I tell you to," you whispered into his ear nipping at the skin as you waited for an answer. He shakily nodded, and you smirked up at him before slipping your hand past his waistband and into his boxers.

You almost gasped at how hard he was, surprised that such little stimulation could get him so turned on. You ultimately kept quiet except for a bit of teasing to further humiliate the boy.

"Aw, baby, you’re so hard. I've barely even touched you. Such a sensitive baby." You mock while wrapping your hand around his cock, squeezing it ever so slightly. His body jolted forward at the feeling, a strangled moan erupting from his throat.

He heard your chuckling and decided to try his best to stay composed and quiet due to the two of you being in public, but it was a lot harder to accomplish than he thought. With you pumping his dick and your free hand crawling up his body to play with his hard nipples through the shirt, it was near impossible to keep quiet.

He knew full well what would happen if they were to get caught in here, and even the thought of it embarrassed him to his core. His face was slowly becoming red, and he continued to let out small mewls and pants as you toyed with him and as his mind raced with all kinds of thoughts.

"Baby, we're in a dressing room; you need to be quiet or they'll hear. Or do you want them to?" You inquired before giving his nipple a harsh tug. "You want them to find you here getting teased by your girlfriend, hmm? Such a fucking slut," you spat.

He looked down at you, eyes blown out and full of pure lust. He was so fucked out already, just from all your teasing, he could barely even think straight. All he wanted was to come and feel the sweet bliss of release. but he knew he had to wait...

He was going to be a good boy for you, no matter how much it pained him to push back his nearing orgasm.

After a few moments of slow and torturous tugs, you finally picked up your pace. He whined and allowed his head to fall back and rest against the cold wall, reminding him that he wasn't in the comfort of his own home.

"That's it, baby. Just a little more." You mewled as you watched his face contort. His nose scrunched, and his hands clawed at your soft skin as he got closer to letting go. All he had to do was wait for your permission, and he could cum, but sadly, you were making sure you got your teasing time in. You knew he would fuck you dumb for it later.

but right now it's about him.

After a few more minutes of simply watching him squirm and listening to his pants and quiet moans, you decided it was time to let him have what he wanted.

"Alright, baby boy, go ahead, come for mommy," you commanded while continuing with your brutal pace. Not even a moment later, you felt the thick liquid cover your hand and a low groan come from the man pinned up against the wall.

You gave him a few more strokes to help him ride out his orgasm, chuckling a bit as his body twitched from the overstimulation. You soon removed your hand and sucked the residue off of your fingers before patting Chan on the head.

"Such a good boy. Now, baby, let's head over to register and check out. I think it's about time we head home." You smile, grab the shirts he had put in a neat pile, and go to unlock the door.

You let out a small squeak and dropped the clothes as you felt him grab your hips and pull you back onto his hardening cock.

"We're not going home until you're stuffed full of my cum and begging me to stop."

(A/N: If you read this far, thank you so much. Likes, comments, and reposts are what keep me going, so please be sure to do so. Anywho thanks for reading!)

#stray kids #bang chan #bangchan smut #skz chan smut #skz chan x reader #tw slapping #smuttt #kpop smut #dom reader #skz oneshots

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a-libra-writes · 1 year

Note

do you have any romantic headcanons for rocky rickaby from lackadaisy? 👀

sweats ...yeah uhh yeah i got a whole lot so this may be long-winded and not particularly organized.....

Shout out to @pomegranate-pen and @lackadaisy-headcanon-supply-unit for also doing Rocky posts that gave me more food for thought and helped me solidify some thoughts 🤔 i def recommend their blogs as well

Firstly, this is a whole-ass crush-at-first-sight. Infatuation, even, because "crush" feels too light a word. The feelings just hit Rocky and he starts wanting to talk to this person more, or at least see them. This has happened many times in his life and the people almost always tell him off or just avoid him. He's aware of how he can ... be, so being brushed aside and outright rejected isn't new. But this person is talking back! And seems to want to?

In that case, he really can't help himself. He wants to be in their good graces, and learn more about them, and impress them! Oh, he'll do so much for you. Anthing, really, he'll run himself ragged, especially if it's something you really need done. You won't even realize how much he went through, you'd puzzle it together based off his beat up appearance and the state of the car and Freckle grumbling about something as he tries to hide the blood on his coat. Don't let him go so far, and make sure he rests.

Once the relationship is more official, Rocky may still feel the need to keep doing so many things for you, to make himself "useful" to you even if he already "has" you. It's a bad habit of his that's deeply ingrained and rooted in insecurity that you'll be tired of him or realize how burdensome he is and be done with him. It's better to channel his energy into helping with simple things, like fixing your car or getting some groceries or just keeping you company while you finish up work. Still, given his exuberant energy and clumsiness, even those simple things can get a little ... much. But perhaps that's part of the charm. He really is trying.

But hey, there will be endless poems and songs for you. Some spur of the moment, some words and phrases he's turned over and over in his head for a week and they all just spill out as soon as he sees you. Rocky probably isn't aware how sweet and romantic it is unless you spell it out, and that only encourages him further. He hums and taps out little melodies that remind him of you, then grab his violin and string them together. If you like theater, even better, he'll recite romantic lines and stanzas until the sun comes up. More than once you two have had an impromptu reenactment of the Balcony Scene, much to the Lackadaisy crew's annoyance.

Oh, and the pet names, they are endless. There's fairly normal ones like "angel" and "sweetheart" then some that are just ... A long string of poetic references to your eyes and smile and general being. "Don't run out of adjectives, dear," You've said more than once.

He's so disgustingly in love, it drives them a little batty, however at least you sort-of-kind-of keep him out of trouble? Or at least, you ground him a bit ... Okay, not really, but you patch him up afterward and he's more likely to take his nervous energy to you, not the bar. But if they have to hear about how the light sparkles in your eyes one more time --

(Mitzi really hates to get you involved with the business, but if you've got a steady head and can handle a gun, well ... I mean, if you can handle Rocky, maybe you're a good person to keep around ...)

And on the topic of patching up, good lord have you had to do it many times. If you weren't experienced in first aid before, you learn it quick. The black and purple bruises are the least of it, there's cuts and abrasions and don't even get started on the concussion. Sometimes, he's still surprised how upset and angry you get when he staggers up to the door and looks like he was put through a wringer. He'll try to be more careful for your sake, but ... well, he tries.

And tries and tries ... Are you noticing a pattern? When it comes to dates and nice things, Rocky really isn't experienced, but he wants to try, because it's for you! He'll get all sorts of advice from Ivy and Mitzi (he asked Viktor but ran off before he got the response) and does his best with it. It's tough if you're clearly from a well-off family, or used to the finer things ... But in the end, you both have the most fun with simple things. Going out for a fast drive in the country, or playing music together, or just chatting endlessly about everything until the sun comes up. He really, really can't remember the last time he was with someone for so long and so happy - except, maybe when he was staying with his aunt and Freckle? But there wasn't nearly this much talking and laughter. It's like a dream, or being drunk, or being endlessly inspired, or -- aaaand he's off waxing poetic again.

It's not just all the music and poetry, it's all the affection! Rocky soaks it up like he'll die without it, and, well ... He really went so long without such company and affection, perhaps that's true. He wants to be held, he wants to lean on you, he wants you to take his arm, he wants kisses and attention! It's just so affirming and reassuring and comforting, if you two have to go a while without seeing each other, he finds himself getting antsy and lonely. He travelled along railroads for years by himself, and suddenly being away from you for a few days is hurting this badly?

If you're someone who dislikes or is uncomfortable with physical affection, it'll be very tough, because he wants it so badly and he just does it without thinking. He'll rush at you for a big hug instead of saying "hi", or brush shoulders and lightly entwine your tail with his while he pests you about what you're working on. He wants to be considerate of your personal space, of course, so it'll take time and a lot of reminding him what is and isn't appropriate for you. Sleeping next to him means you will get cuddled and it's tough to peel him off once you wake up. At least he's a bit better about it in public, and at the bar, because Viktor can peel him off.

(An important caveat is if you're male or present as such, he's obviously far more careful in public, even if he's obviously on pins and needles for when it's safe to hold you again).

Another thing is the co-habitation, this being the 1920's and dependent on your family situation or upbringing. This may already be a "line" you both have crossed, since Rocky often shows up at your doorstep battered and ends up crashing on your couch, or you just say screw it and let him crash there after going on a run together. Actually sleeping in your room or, even more shockingly, moving in is something he has a hard time with. It's almost nerve-wracking. On one hand, isn't this what he wanted? Doesn't this prove you really, really want him around? But on the other hand, actually having that is somehow scary. Having a proper roof and a warm bed and food right in the fridge is .... a bit of a change from the living arrangements he's had for the past 5+ years. It takes some adjusting and easing into it.

Long story short, he is just a bundle of affection and adoration and quite a bit of insecurity and a little mania. Just ... a bit. Don't worry about it.

#'your song' from moulin rouge intensifies!!!!!!#i wont apologize for this i am obsessed with these fucking jazz cats #lackadaisy x reader #rocky rickaby x reader

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cologona · 27 days

Note

If you won some sort of lottery contest and DC allowed you to write a comic run for any character, any topic, no limits, what would your comic be like?

What kinda plot and characters would you want to etch into official DC canon? (Or would you prefer to write an elseworlds kinda thing?)

-redhoodinternaldialectical from the "main" blog

Sorry it took a while to answer this, I got pretty carried away! Jason is my favorite character and the character I know most about, so of course I'd write about him. This is going to be pretty long winded and fanfic-y, hope you don’t mind!

First things first I’m making both UTRH and Lost Days mostly canon again. Jason was a crime lord who did Mean Crime Lord Things for a while and that’s what I’ve decided everyone is referring to when they gesture vaguely to his villainous past.

I’m also bringing back the original “big boob” backstory where Jason makes Bruce laugh on the anniversary of his parents’ death. Catherine was an opioid addict due to illness, Willis was the person who taught Jason about cars (and thus how to jack tires) and Faye Gunn is no longer Jason’s grandma. (I really disliked Ma Gunn’s “redemption” in RHATO.) Just in case, I’m also reiterating Sheila’s role in Jason’s death.

Here’s a few lines I came up with for the Todds:

Jason keeps the letters Willis sent him from prison - the ones Ma Gunn hid- in the same picture frame that holds his Robin graduation photo with Bruce. He loved and resented Willis in equal parts, but mostly he regrets not having gotten more time. It’s all the same with fathers.

Catherine is curled up in bed, her expression is half a grimace. She asks Jason, who is reading a picture-book by her side, to get her ‘medicine’ for her. Jason doesn’t know how else to help her feel better so… that’s exactly what he does. In a moment, he returns with a small heart shaped box and a cup of microwaved soup.

If I can imply in some way that Catherine is in denial about the possibility of her dying I’d like to do that too.

I’m also doing a total overhaul of the All-Caste.

Essence is getting proper Tibetan braids, Ducra is going to wear a khampa chuba instead of her current old coat, and the Acres-of-All are getting reimagined as a towering Ziggurat with all the murals, pillars, curtains, and ornate trim befitting a monastery! The All-caste of memory will be bright and fantastical, but the ruins of the present will be dark and spooky.

Some references for what I'm talking about.

I’m also reframing the “Absolute Evil” part of the All-blades’ description to be an epithet for the Untitled. The sword is not literally judging Goodness and Evilness anymore; now they cut through negative psychic energy Jujutsu Kaisen style. I don’t think I need to spell out a justification for Jason being able to summon them whenever, but for any sticklers I’ll just say it’s because Jason- like the Untitled- has a lot of bad feelings and trace amounts of Dionesium in his system (among assorted other chemicals.)

Since Lost Days is being brought back that means instead of spending an entire 3 years with the All-Caste, Jason only spent a few weeks with them during his world-wide training arc. Ostensibly because a little magic would give him an edge over Batman. Ducra wouldn’t normally just give away powerful magic weapons to any chump with a free weekend, and she knew Jason was dangerous, but since the All-Blades are so specific and the ritual to attain them nigh-unsurvivable she saw an opportunity to use Jason. Sure she's one of the Good Guys, but she's not called a conniving old witch for nothing hoohoo!

Now a few plot ideas for a vague overall mini-arc.

First, Jason goes to ugly lengths to protect or prevent consequences from finding one of his family. Maybe someone threatens their secret identity…? The ‘opponent’ should be someone innocent and/or noble but not easily bought or fought. Maybe Vicki Vale, another Hero, or some kind of wealthy heir. The point is to cast doubt on if Jason’s return to the Bats is really so unquestionably redeeming. Jason has pretty much chosen to betray his morals for them after all.

Then, Jason chooses not to kill a villain who shortly afterwards victimizes more people and skips town before he can get caught. Basically a rehash of Diplomat’s Son except the Garzonas figure gets away. It’s technically a win for Batman- his presence kept Gotham safe after all. But it doesn’t feel like a win, especially not to Jason.

And finally, Jason frames himself for various murders committed by victims against their abusers. Maybe kick the story off with one of Ma Gunn’s boys killing her and telling the cops it was Red Hood in a desperate bid to avoid jail.

Obviously Jason can’t be allowed to do this long-term. It’s a bad precedent to set, an obstruction of justice, etc… Jason hasn’t broken The Big Rule though, and Bruce can only act so sanctimonious when those same complaints could be are made about him as well. There’s no way this ends any other way than Batman running Red Hood out of Gotham again and they both know it, but neither deviates from the path set before them.

One or two “monster of the week” issues where Jason fights various assassins and bounty hunters sent by his more influential enemies might be good- one should occur right after the above story. A consequence for his “return to form” so to speak. Batfamily fans may appreciate a scene where Bruce says something indicating that he ran Jason out for his own safety as well as Gotham’s. Batman may be able to hide in Bruce Wayne’s skin during the day but Jason’s only identity is that of Red Hood, and at times that makes him vulnerable in a way other heroes aren’t. This + some panels contrasting the generic mercenary look of Jason’s guns and equipment with the Bats’ spandex future-tech will be great for showing how separate Jason is from the Bats.

Now while Jason’s out of Gotham again there’s this detail in one of RHATO’s flashbacks that I want to expand on- that being how he used to be able to summon a lot more All-blades.

Red Hood Outlaw 34

“I had a lot of soul back then” - implying that he has a lot less soul now…!?

Jason’s been through a lot, in life sure but also more recently. Fight scenes where the All-blades take the form of daggers would not only be cool and evocative of the wavy dagger Talia gifted him way back when, they’d be good visual sign of his declining emotional state.

Later on as his soul ‘shrinks’ further, I’d give him a pair of mystical guns through which he can channel his All-blades into bullets. If it’s another gift from Talia I’m thinking dark brass revolvers with paisley filigree and a red Endless Knot charm hanging from each handle. If they’re from Essence or S’aru I’m thinking black lacquer and silver cloud-patterned ornamentation, with red coral embedded on either side of the gun. Beautiful Bayonetta-style guns with glowing red veins and a cowboy flair!

antique guns which inspired me

As for what he’s using the All-blades (All-bullets?) for, I think it’d be fun to have Jason exorcising some ghosts. He can solve various murder mysteries, figure out why this place or that person is haunted, and get into fights with horrific otherworldly creatures. Jason is an interesting character to do this premise with because he might just determine that some some spirits should get their revenge, and act on behalf of a ghost rather than erasing it.

I’m not sure whether I’d want to have Essence join him or not… On one hand it only makes sense that Jason would help Isabel and Essence find a way to free themselves from the Blood Blade, and that goal would provide his character with some direction. Then again, Essence/Isabel could be cool as antagonists. Jason might see some ghosts as valid but Essence probably wouldn’t see any merit in appeasing manifestations of lingering resentment. She’s similar to him in that she also turned her back on her family, but she’s different in that she did it because she believed so wholeheartedly in their cause. She’s old and sort of a Jedi, but she’s hot-blooded and she’ll never not be Ducra’s daughter in the same way it seems Jason can never escape Batman’s shadow. I bet she has some real juicy sunk-cost fallacy type thinking too, that’d be fun to dig into.

Anyways I think this is a pretty good set-up to explore the politics/morality of forgiveness. What makes the difference between an injustice and a hatchet that ought to be buried? When is forgiveness empowering and when is it coerced? Who is it that must forgive? Justice vs Revenge, that whole kind of thing.

Other than the supernatural stuff I want Jason working with Talia, and I’m reintroducing Sasha to the post-52 continuity. Duela is getting nixed.

I don’t really have any specific plot ideas for Talia, but I would like to establish Jason as one of her associates. With Lost Days back they have basis for an actual relationship again. They’re not always on the same side but Jason can sometimes do tasks for Talia (outside the purview of Ra’s and the LOA), and Talia can occasionally support Jason with various social power-play type moves.

An instance of Jason getting into a fight with one of the Bats because he’s doing a favor for Talia would be great! I wouldn't write Talia as an evil evil bad horrible dragon lady, so it shouldn’t be a huge blow to Jason’s status as a Good Guy. Also I like the idea of Jason and Talia’s relationship mostly being inferred through their actions supporting one another, rather than directly showing much ‘on-screen’ interaction between them.

Also it’ll be interesting to go into Bruce, Dick, and Damian’s reaction to finding out that they’re not the only ones Jason is loyal to. Bruce thinking Talia was a bad influence on Jason (like fanon), silently frustrated because what he really wants is for Jason to be a full Bat-Believer (like the good old days…). Dick being fine with Jason never falling fully in-line with Bruce, provided that at the end of the day his loyalty belonged to his family.

-brief topical detour to talk about Sasha-

The new timeline of events is that Jason and Sasha met as fellow patients while Jason was in his Vague Villain era. They escaped the hospital building together (Sasha in her bloody dress, and Jason naked save for his skimpy hospital gown dhoti) and having no one else they stuck together. They got close but at some point Sasha lost her memories, giving her a chance at a fresh start. This was around the same time Jason “redeemed” himself and so just like Max Dawkins, ‘Numbers’, and Gabby Christiensen -Sasha became another person from Jason’s past that he didn’t let himself have a relationship with.

Sasha was just old enough that she didn’t have to be sent into foster care, so with some help from Wayne Foundations she got her GED and her feet underneath her. Now… she goes to work, goes to her physical therapy appointments, fights with her mother over the phone, and yes- sometimes she goes to the club.

The new Sasha still has spiky red hair but her face looks entirely normal save for a subtle scar tracing around her jawline and chin- the edges of where her mask used to sit. She wears dark makeup and even darker clothes. She’s prone to false memories and dissociation. She’s lost most of her ability to feel pain. She can’t watch certain shows she used to love anymore because they trigger her. She never returned to Russia. She doesn’t have many friends.

Since this is comics, her reintroduction will come by way of a dramatic fight. Sasha will regain her memories one day and show up out of the blue to fight Jason, angry and heartbroken that he abandoned her. He tries to explain himself but she just says look what they did to my face, referring to the facial reconstructive surgery she was given while amnesiac. She’ll be difficult to fight, not only because being a partial Dollotron gives her enhanced strength but also because she’s being reckless and the longer they fight the more strain and damage her body accrues.

After Jason apologizes and they reconcile (they will both cry) Sasha can become a recurring side character that Jason visits, keeping him grounded and up to date with Gotham. I think it'd be cute for her to bid him farewell by saying she’ll hold the city hostage until he comes back. (Is Sasha going to become Jason’s love interest? No. If I give Jason a love interest it’s going to be Numbers.)

--Going back to the previous topic, I want Sasha’s return to be part of this greater arc of Jason addressing his "shrinking soul" problem. My brain is a little fried now so I’m not exactly sure how but she is related. I think she ought to be.

Jason wants Bruce to be right. He would like for his problem to be fixed by going home and saying sorry. But at the end of my run I want him to face the reality that it’s not about that.

...Perhaps it should be about Jason 'abandoning' Gotham? I don’t really want the final thesis of my run to imply that Jason’s soul would just be fixed if he killed Rogues though, and Jason always came back whenever a big disaster was happening so it doesn't quite fit anyways… Jason does believe in the value of “pure” heroes it’s just not what he’s supposed to be. Whatever his problem's “about” , it ought to prompt Jason to stop taking Bruce’s shit. I'm saying the man is literally breaking Jason's spirit.

I’m sympathetic to Bruce but I wouldn’t write him as a nice father. I would also have scene where a younger Bat accuses Jason of being overdramatic despite 'not even having it the worst’. I don't know who 'has it the worst' but I want to make a statement that you don't need to win the pain-race to be fed up.

Ah anyways, now my brain is really fried. I hope this post was coherent all the way through, I neglected to edit and organize my thoughts as much towards the end. Thank you for asking me such a great question, I had a lot of fun thinking about it! :D

#me rambling so much #i have been holding onto this too long #I did kind of pull and UTRH part 2 electric boogaloo with Sasha didn’t I #except I characterized her as more like fanon/movie Jason #I fixed some of the typos now #oh god I forgot to mention:#I want to have a repeated motif of timekeeping sounds #beeping alarms ticking clocks beating drums #also I want Jason to show off his knowledge of bombs and poisons #Jason’s always making antidotes to shoot people with that ought to be explored #ahhhh the ideas won’t stop coming #jason todd #scarlet sasha #essence dc #headcanons #red hood #put a pin on it #📌

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vic-draws-sometimes · 9 months

Note

Imo I think Gaz, like is HELLA overthinking after the bar 'date' and he only stays slightly calm in that week between the bar confrontation thing and the make up/make out, because he sees Price is still subbed to him. He wonders about making another personal video for him, like an apology?? And he does, cough dumbass cough, but he doesn't send it until like, 4 days after he made it. He's shaky as he makes the video, a lot more shy yet also doing everything perfectly like Price instructs, touching himself through his boxers while eagerly thrusting a dildo down his throat. He has to stop recording a few times tho because he's being too rough and sloppy, hurting his throat. So then he just cuts that stuff out and cuts to himself lowering down onto it, slick and beautiful, whispering soft praises and letting out all his whimpers but he's still nervous and shy, still wondering if he should continue, if Price would want to see it. Would Price want to see me again after that???

Yet he continues, and he takes more quicker than usual, all for Price. Everything for that man GOD DAMMIT! He definitely is a little sore after, desperation does something to the human mind though. But lord, he does feel a little good like this. Look how quick I can be for you. You don't have ot just be a viewer, you can touch and pull and do anything! You could replace this silico- you get the picture.

... Does Price appreciate the video? Uhm... sorta? I mean, Gaz always is hot, and SHY Gaz? WOOH! But there are small winces and some pained whines in some parts of the video that make Price comment: 'That was too much baby, you need to take it slower.'

'Still, that's a very good boy taking so much.' Price was quick to add, as if reading through the screen the nervousness Gaz felt. The sigh of relief that left him was HUGE. AND LOUD.

Gaz is now more nervous. Does that mean he disliked it? Was it bad? Oh god!!!

Though after they make up, or the day they do, it's ON. Gaz is happily letting Price dominate and literally goes into any position his Captain wants. He does not stop calling him sie by the way. "Yes Sir" "of course, Sir" "Make me Sir." fuck! He's a tease and a brat at time too. Mostly as a way to ask for Price to be more rough.

SORRY Maybe this was too much but uhhhh yee I enjoy your writing too much your angst will always kill me and I LOVE IT.

There's no such thing as too much!

I want to eat your brain you have so many good ideas

Gaz making a video to urge him to think faster about this? And it works?? Genius

I feel like part of it is because Price can really connect that the Kyle he was seeing on his screen is the same he works with and respect so much. Like yes obviously he knew they were the same, but there was a difference. Anonymity for both of them and all. And seeing Kyle try so hard for him even after he practically left him crying. It helps him realize that he crossed the line of professional relationship a long time ago, and if Kyle wants him, then he'll give him everything.

He never wants to see Kyle so hurt by him again. But also, he wants to finally touch him and make him scream his name.

Anyways I drew a lot more of it but can't show a thing on here so go to twitter

#pricegaz

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spine-buster · 5 months

Text

just friends, pt. 2

aka, another time it could have happened again

gif credit @/besthimbomachine

Length: 3704 words Summary: It's New Year's Eve. Tyson and Hazel's favourite holiday is New Year's Eve. A beautiful dress doesn't quite help any New Year's resolutions. A/N: This series is slowly taking over my mind. This is some more blue balls for you all before we finally get to a sequel.

31 December 2019

Hazel took time to get ready for AEW’s New Year’s Eve party; she took time shaving and exfoliating in the shower, lathering herself in lotion, curling her hair, applying her makeup, slipping into her dress. She took time looking at herself in the mirror, happy with how she looked. It took a while to get here, literally and figuratively, but judging by the colour of her dress and the slit that reached up her thigh, she was, firmly, here. Happy.

The party was to be held in TIAA Bank Arena for the entire roster, and while she knew she wasn’t running late, she knew Tyson would be.

Can you hurry your ass up?

Perfection takes time, hunny

You are the worst person alive

Hazel snorted to herself at Tyson’s text, if only because she could picture so perfectly him saying it in person, too – if he were ever on time. Regardless, she waited out in the hotel lobby, scrolling through her phone. She saw some personal stories posted from some other friends already at TIAA Bank Arena, seeing all the decorations, the bar set up, and the hors d’oeuvres already being served. She was starving. If Tyson made her miss the hors d’oeuvres, she was going to kill him.

Her instincts told her to look up, and when she did, she saw Tyson walking towards her wearing a nice button up shirt and a pair of pressed slacks that fit him perfectly. He looked good, but to Hazel, he always did, even though she couldn’t say it out loud. She thanked the Lord it looked like he scrubbed all the spray tan off too, and trimmed his beard so it wasn’t too scraggly. Sometimes she thought it looked so, and she made sure to tell him. ‘It looks better when it’s shorter, Ty,’ she’d tell him, and usually within twelve hours it would be at a length she loved. It was kind of like when he told her how he liked her long hair, how he didn’t want her to cut it again after she had chopped most of it off into a long bob a few years ago now. Hazel went for regular trims so her hair was healthy and grew it out to a length that cascaded down her back.

Okay, so maybe they did say it out loud from time to time.

“Did you order the Uber?” she asked when he was close, but he didn’t answer. She waited patiently for a response, but didn’t get one. Tyson didn’t respond because his eyes were travelling from her face down her body, the dress accentuating every beautiful curve and line. “Kenneth!”

He snapped out of it. “What?!”

“You’re going to make me miss the hors d’oeuvres,” she said.

“No I’m not,” he said. “The Uber’s two minutes away. Let’s go wait outside.”

He walked behind her, watching her ass in the dress. He had to think of the smell of his hockey team’s locker room from 20 years ago to prevent himself from getting a fucking erection in the lobby of a hotel. He wanted to punch himself for thinking what he was; for thinking about what he wanted to do to her in that dress. The things he could get away with. The things she’d let him get away with.

If it was the right time.

“You look great by the way,” he said nonchalantly, barely making eye contact with her as they stood outside waiting for the Uber to pull up to the door.

“Yeah, thanks,” Hazel was almost bashful, running her hands down the fabric that covered the front of her thighs. “You don’t—you don’t think it’s too m—”

“Nah, no way,” he cut her off, shaking his head vehemently. “Everything…you just, you look incredible, Haze.”

“Thanks, Ty. I mean it.”

He looked at her finally, a small smile on his face. “If any of the guys hit on you tonight, you’ll know why.”

Before Hazel could say that none of the guys would hit on her as long as he was around (except for Austin, probably, and even then it would be as a joke), and before she could blurt out something stupid like “I wish you’d be the one to hit on me,’, their Uber rolled up in front of them. She climbed into the back, trying to get her dress not to bunch up too much. Tyson hopped in after her, staying behind the passenger seat. “TIAA Bank Arena, please,” Tyson said to the driver before looking out the window to distract himself.

***

At the party, Tyson didn’t appreciate how he and Hazel were separated. She had been whisked away early on and he watched her order gin and tonic with lime from the bar. He hung out with some of the guys but the eye he kept on her in the dress was near constant. New Year’s was his favourite holiday and he wanted to spoil himself by staring at her – sue him. He wanted to spoil himself in more ways, but he knew he couldn’t. It was getting harder the more he saw her smile, the more he saw her laugh, the more he saw her cheeks flush red and her smile get wider as the night passed, taking pictures and laughing at jokes and singing along with the music.

For what it was worth, Hazel noticed. She noticed Tyson’s eyes on her almost the entire night, stuck on her as she giggled and smiled and sipped her drink. She could tease him all night if she really wanted to, and she knew it. But instead of doing that – instead of teasing him more than she already was – she decided to whisk herself away to the bathroom, if only to cool herself down and reapply her lipstick.

As she bent over the vanity to reapply her lipstick in the mirror, the door opened and in walked Tyson. He stared at her through the mirror, smiling as he shut the door behind him and leaned against it. “Hey,” his voice was soft.

“Hey you.”

“You okay?” Tyson asked quietly.

“Of course,” Hazel nodded. She picked up her glass filled with ice and a lime. “This is water.”

“It is?”

“I keep asking the bartender to fill it with just tonic water,” she revealed, smiling. “You know how I always like to remember New Year’s.”

Tyson couldn’t help but smile at her little scheme, pushing himself away from the door and taking the few steps towards her. “Yeah. Of course. Just like me.”

“We promised, didn’t we?” she maintained direct eye contact with him through the mirror.

“We did,” he said, remembering their conversation and promise in Tokyo all those years ago. His hand went to her waist, without warning. Then it snaked around, his hand resting on her lower belly. Hazel looked at him through the mirror. “Have I told you that you look beautiful tonight?” his voice was low.

A smile broke out on her face; one she could barely conceal. “Mhmm,” she nodded her head quickly. She placed her hand over his, intertwining their fingers slightly. “You’re getting real handsy, Ty.”

“Sorry,” he didn’t mean it.

“You don’t have to apologize. You just have to…be careful.”

“Of what?”

“Yourself,” she deadpanned, biting her bottom lip mischievously. “You’re your own worst enemy sometimes, you know that?”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

Smirking at each other through the mirror, Tyson slowly pulled his hand away from her, but didn’t step away from her body. “Are you having fun?”

“The most fun,” Hazel closed her lipstick, turning around so she was finally facing him and not looking at him through a mirror. “You know how much I love all these rapscallions. Are you?”

“Now I am.”

***

When there was about five minutes to go, the waitresses and caterers began pouring the champagne into the flutes. Hazel watched as each one filled up one by one, everybody gathering together to watch the final minutes. As the champagne was passed around, Hazel accepted her flute graciously. Tyson, of course, politely declined.

“Can I have his?” she asked the waitress, who was more than willing to oblige.

With two champagne flutes in her hands, the final minutes were dwindling. Tyson stood beside her, watching on, a smile on his face. The excitement in the air was palpable. The countdown was always the best part. And when the last minute of the year hit, he watched as Hazel performed an excited jig.

Then, thirty seconds left. They both turned towards the TV again, counting down with the growing number of their friends shouting out the numbers. Tyson grew more and more emphatic with his screaming of the numbers the closer they got. Hazel screamed along, careful not to spill her champagne.

Five!...Four!...Three!...Two!...One!...Haaaaaappy New Year!

Hazel screamed along with everyone else, raising her hands with the champagne flutes up in the air for dramatic effect. Tyson was screaming along with everyone and clapping his hands. She could see Austin and Britt already sharing a New Year’s kiss, and a few others, too. She brought the first of the champagne flutes to her lips to drink, to suppress what she really wanted to do. Hopefully the moment would pass.

When she looked into Tyson’s eyes after downing the second flute, she saw everything she loved about him; everything she was so desperate to have but desperate to keep hidden, to keep locked away in some small compartment within her. “Happy New Year, Ty.”

His smile was soft, but light, and genuine. “Happy New Year, Haze.”

***

It was nearing two in the morning by the time Tyson and Hazel decided to call it a night. There were still plenty of people at the party, and they were still all giggly and smiley, but they wanted to go back to the hotel. Tyson ordered the taxi as Hazel said goodbye to everyone, kissing everyone’s cheek and hugging them tight. When they left the venue, Tyson walked behind her again, watching her hips and ass move in her dress.

The car pulled up in no time. Hazel crouched into the taxi first, shifting all the way over to the other side. She could immediately feel how cool the air was in the car, in such contrast to the humidity outside. As Tyson climbed in after her, her body shivered. “Hyatt Regency, please,” she said to the driver, watching as Tyson close the door behind him.

As the taxi driver signalled to rejoin the road, Tyson moved so he was in the middle seat, practically in her seat. Then, his hand went straight to her thigh, where the slit of her dress exposed as much leg as it could. Her eyebrows rose playfully. “What d’you think you’re doing?” she asked playfully.

“What?” he asked non-chalant, the smallest of smirks building on his face. “Not like my hand’s never been there before. Plus, you shivered. Body heat is paramount.”

Between training and matches, and between, well…he wasn’t technically wrong. But he still knew he was pushing it, and Hazel knew he was pushing it too. While she appreciated the physical touch – she always did with Tyson – she knew it wasn’t the right or the best thing to do. “Oh Tyson,” she chastised him, leaning back against the window. “You know what would be even better?” she asked as her hand went to lay on top of his on her thigh, their fingers slightly intertwining.

His hand attempted to go higher, closer to her core, but she stopped him. “What’s that?” he asked.

“If you gave me a foot massage.”

He pretend gagged and she laughed out, knowing that he hated anything to do with feet. “Now why the fuck would I do that?”

“Cause you love me,” she said. “And these heels are awful.”

“They look great.”

“Beautiful but awful.”

“Why don’t you just take them off?”

She rolled her eyes. Men. “The first rule of heels is you can’t take them off until it’s the end of the night. Your feet won’t fit back in them if you do, and it actually becomes more painful to walk in them again.”

Tyson shook his head. “Beauty is pain, I guess.”

“So I guess I’m not getting a foot massage, huh?” she smiled.

“No chance.”

They chatted and joked for the short ride back to the hotel, wishing the driver a Happy New Year and tipping generously with cash so he didn’t have to claim it. The second Tyson’s hand left her thigh and his body left her side, she felt the loss. She hated admitting so. She buried the feeling again as she stepped out of the car. But before Hazel could even shut the door, Tyson’s hands were on her again.

Except this time, he lifted her up dramatically into a fireman’s carry. She yelped loudly, acutely aware that despite her dress still being on and the fabric covering everything it needed to cover, her ass was in the air. “Tyson!”

“Oh will you stop,” he mimicked Gorilla Monsoon perfectly. “You said your feet hurt!” He began walking towards the door and through the foyer. Hazel could feel her body heat up from embarrassment as she saw the concierge look at them. What a sight to see at two in the morning. She was thankful that nobody else was lingering around. “Better than walking, huh?”

“Can you at least carry me like a normal person so my ass isn’t in the air?”

Carefully, so as to not tear at her dress, they transitioned like they were in the ring in-between wrestling moves, and eventually, Tyson was carrying her bridal style. She pressed the button for the elevator before looking into his eyes and cradling his face in her hand. “Hey Tys?”

“Hmm”?

“Thanks for carrying me.”

“I’d do anything for you. You know that.”

“I know that, but your back is bad.”

“Doesn’t matter. Your feet hurt.”

Her heart swelled. Tyson had always been so good to her, and her to him, but she revelled in this sweet moment as much as she could. It was only when Tyson’s face started to get closer did her heart begin fluttering instead of swelling. “Ty…” she whispered.

“You smell delectable,” he mumbled.

“That’s Jo Malone for you,” she tried to joke, even though she knew it wouldn’t hit. Tyson’s mind was somewhere else as she dug through her purse for their room key. She shoved it into the reader, the little light turning green before she opened the door for them. Tyson carried her into the room without even looking where he was going, the hair on his beard tickling the sensitive skin on her neck. She couldn’t help but smile and giggle. “Ty…”

“Let me put you on the bed,” his voice was husky all of a sudden. He placed her down on the bed but followed her down, his face still in the crook of her neck, his body looming over hers. “Christ, Hazel…”

Even though she was smiling, and even though almost every inch of her wanted this and could have had so, so much fun with it, she couldn’t. Trouble – that’s what this was. They could get into a lot of trouble this way. “That’s not the best idea, Ty,” Hazel whispered as she felt Tyson’s nose on her décolletage, on her clavicle, on her neck. She knew his lips were next.

“Why not?”

She giggled. “You already felt up my thigh in the taxi. You just want to because you’re hyped from the party. New Year’s has always been your favourite holiday.”

“Our favourite holiday.”

“Regardless,” she smiled to herself like a Cheshire cat, “you shouldn’t do much more, Ty. It wouldn’t be right.”

He knew she was right, fuck he knew she was right, but he gritted his teeth and bit his tongue. ‘Yes it would be right’ he thought. ‘Anything we do is right. Anything we’ve ever done has been right. It’s been right because it’s been with each other.’ He dislodged himself from her neck and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling of the hotel room. “It’s that dress, too,” he said to mask everything he was feeling, in a tone that covered any agony with humour.

Hazel’s smile didn’t leave her face. “It’s always the dress, huh?”

Tyson stayed silent, continuing to stare at the ceiling, trying to collect his thoughts. His arm was up above his head, the back of his hand resting on his forehead. “Sorry Hazel,” his voice was soft and low.

“You don’t have to apologize. I just don’t want you doing something you’ll regret later.”

‘But I won’t regret it’ he thought to himself. “Yeah, yeah,” he nodded slightly. “Thanks for always looking out for me, Haze.”

“You know I always will.”

Both of them took deep breaths, staring up at the ceiling as they lay in bed. Tyson couldn’t get the images out of his mind of Hazel at the party posing for photos, laughing, her legs glistening in the light. Her beautiful smile that took up half her face. The shine of her hair down her back. Fuck.

He felt Hazel shift beside him. When he looked over, she had lifted her knee to her chest, stretching to grab the buckle of her heels. The material of her dress rode up her thighs, exposing more of her skin. They came off one by one, with Hazel haphazardly throwing them to the side on the floor. He watched as she pushed herself up, sitting on the edge of the bed, her back now facing him. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“Hey Tys?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you unzip me?”

He shot up, but tried not to look too eager. He moved so he was directly behind her, watching as she gathered her hair over one shoulder. He grabbed the small zipper of her dress with his big hands. He took his sweet ass time pulling it down; Hazel knew he would. A part of her wanted to tease him so badly, only because she knew she had the power to at the moment.

When he was finished, he didn’t say anything. Instead, Hazel sensed it and she stood up from the bed, not bothering to look back at him. He watched her as she walked through the room, watched as she reached her suitcase and promptly dropped her dress to the floor, leaving her in only her underwear in front of him. He caught glimpses of the curves of her breasts as she threw her hair up in a ponytail and dug through her suitcase to find her pyjamas. His mind took him back to Tokyo and it was like a magic trick how he could remember the feeling of them in his hands when they made love.

Hazel went into the washroom and closed the door behind her, and Tyson knew it was so she could wash off her makeup. The memories of the night they’d just had flooded his mind, interspersed with memories of Tokyo. Her dress. The first time she wore one of his t-shirts after crashing at his apartment in Shinjuku. Her being backstage after the G1 Climax. Her laughing at his dumb joke at the bar. Her lips around the straw of her drink. Her hand over his when he grabbed at her thigh inside the taxi.

When Hazel got out of the washroom, clean-faced and with her hair in a bun, she noticed Tyson laying back down on the bed, still in his clothes from the party. When she moved closer, she realized that instead of using the time she was in the bathroom to change, he hadn’t. Now, he sleeping in his pants and shirt, an arm draped across his chest. He looked so peaceful in his slumber Hazel almost didn’t want to disturb him. But she knew what she had to do.

She crawled onto the bed slowly, making sure not to disturb him, and began to pull his belt out of the loop and unbuckle it. When she tugged slightly, he moved his arm, and it wasn’t until she unbuttoned his pants and unzipped them did he groggily open his eyes. “Hazel?” he asked.

“Let’s go to sleep.”

Considering what he had been thinking of before he fell asleep, he wasn’t sure if this was reality or a dream. The fact that her hands were near his crotch was enough to make him confused. “What’re you—”

“You can’t sleep in your party clothes, Tys. Lift your hips for me.”

He did as he was told, and felt Hazel pulling his pants down, all the way down, until he was left in his boxers. She moved to his shirt and started unbuttoning it for him. In his mental haze of still not knowing if this was a dream or reality, he bought his hand up and placed it over hers. She stopped and looked at him. “I’d do anything for you,” he whispered softly.

A smile spread across her face. “I’d do anything for you too. Let me take this off you now, okay?”

Her hands were soft as they glided across his chest and up to his broad shoulders to push his shirt back. It came off easily. Hazel noticed Tyson’s heavy eyes. “Get your head on a pillow, Tys. You’ll be more comfortable.”

He pushed himself back and settled himself; meanwhile, Hazel pulled back the covers, got underneath them, and pulled them over their bodies. She snuggled into his back, his body heat radiating onto her. She paused for a moment, her lack of judgement winning out against her better judgement as she placed three kisses along Tyson’s shoulder. She dragged her lips along his skin between them, making sure her lips lingered on his skin when she was done. “That okay?”

He groaned slightly in response, nodding his head. “That feels so nice,” he sighed out.

Hazel couldn’t help but appreciate the sentiment. “Let’s go to sleep, Tys. Tomorrow when we wake up there’ll be a whole new year of memories we can make together.”

Always together.

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