#i was so sad drawing him wasn't an option
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Lions Ain't the Kind - Part 3.5
Summary: Frankie asks you about transitioning
Pairing: Frankie Morales x NB/Gender-fluid! AFAB! Reader
Rating: 18+ Explicit
Warnings: 18+ mdni, talks about gender non-conformity, talks about gender dysphoria, mentions of transitioning, mentions of HRT and gender affirming surgery, chest binding, use of packers
A/N: I said I wasn't going to post anymore of this series until July but I was WRONG! I wote this for @romanarose 's Pride Event. Week 2: Transitioning. I realized that writing this little snippet would actually add a lot of depth to reader and explain more about what their gender identity means to them (while also reiterating that Frankie is a perfect little sweetie pie)
“Do you ever want to get surgeries? You know, like, gender affirming ones?”
You pause Netflix to turn to Frankie, shirtless and looking at you with genuine curiosity.
“Why do you ask?”
His brows draw up.
“Just wondering. This is all kinda new to me, I guess, and I’ve done some research… I just know it’s an option and— yeah, I mean— I really am just curious.”
The backs of his knuckles trace your arm, and goosebumps form there.
“That’s a bit of a loaded question, honestly. Do you want the short answer or the long answer?”
He smiles, soft, and you swear he’s an angel with that halo of curls framing his head.
“I wanna know whatever you wanna tell me.”
You smile too, tangle your legs with his under the sheets and get relaxed for the conversation you’ve never been so comfortable having before now.
“So… basically, I think the pros and cons completely stalemate each other. You know? There are things about hormones and surgery that I’d enjoy. But… because I’m so fluid, I’d also sometimes not enjoy them. Does that make sense?”
Frankie nods, “I think so, yeah.”
“And that’s the thing— Right now, there are things about my natural body that sometimes I like, and then sometimes those same things make me uncomfortable.”
“Dysphoria?” He asks, a timid and sad tone weighing down the word.
“Yeah— exactly. Look at you, Mister Research.”
A bashful dimple appears as he ducks his head.
“So, there’s things I have that help. They’re temporary… but… so is the dysphoria. I think, for me, the best decision is to lean into those temporary aides. I mean for one, it’s cheaper. And much less invasive. Why go through all of that just to be in the same boat, y’know?”
“Yeah, I get that. I’m sorry you have to compromise, though. Sounds… Not easy.”
You shrug, but you’re smiling, because it’s quite thrilling to have someone so understanding in your corner, and your bed, and your life.
“Thank you. You’re right, y’know, it isn’t easy. Especially when it comes to dating. So it’s really nice that you’re… Well— that you’re you.”
A surprised breath leaves him as his eyes light up.
“It’s nice that you’re you, too. I like you, everything about you.”
It’s silent for a moment as you stare at each other, smiling, sunny, giddy almost.
“What— umm… What are those things that help? You don’t have to tell me, but… If you want to, I’d like to know.”
You nod.
“Yeah okay.”
You take a deep breath and debate on what would be easiest to start with.
“You know how you asked me what those marks were on my back yesterday? In the shower?”
“Yeah, you said it was just indents from your blanket. Were they not?”
You shake your head.
“I use this stuff called transtape. It’s used to bind your chest, you know? So it looks flat? Sometimes it leaves little marks— like a bandaid would.”
“So it’s like a binder? But… tape, instead of a garment?”
“Exactly. I was wearing it that day you… it’s why I haven’t really let you touch, yet. It’s kind of unsexy to explain in the moment.”
“Why didn’t you wear it in the shower? Should I not have looked?”
Worry creases his brow, but you huff a laugh and grab his hand.
“No, it’s okay. I wanted to shower with you, and I needed to replace it anyway. It— I mean, like I’ve said, sometimes it bothers me and sometimes it doesn’t. I felt like we were in a rush, and it wasn’t… sexual. And I felt comfortable with you like that. I knew you wouldn’t gawk or… comment, or anything. I liked being able to just be myself with you, and having you still see me as me.”
“Oh, okay. I mean… I liked what I saw. Is that… okay to say?”
You roll your eyes and laugh.
“Yes, you’re allowed to like my tits, Pretty Boy.”
He flushes, but his eyes glance down to your chest in a brief flicker.
“You’re wearing the tape, now?”
“I am. Do you wanna see?”
“I— I mean, yeah. If you wanna show me.”
So you do. You slowly slide your shirt off, and you bare yourself. You feel confident, which is new, in a situation like this.
He stares, like he’s studying you. His eyes take catalog of the different pieces, the way they’re shaped, the way they hold everything up and back and flatten.
His fingers twitch under yours, and you squeeze them before letting go.
“You can touch,” you whisper.
He does. In an instant, his fingers gently trace the edge of the tape, then his palm covers it all, right over your heart that’s pounding.
“You’re so… fuck, I’m sorry, I don’t wanna be weird. You’re just really hot.”
You do preen a bit, even if you don’t want to admit it. He makes you feel so good about who you are.
“That’s not weird. I think you’re hot too, so it’s good we’re on the same page.”
He hums, traces his middle finger down the center of your chest, so light it tickles.
“What else?”
“Huh?”
“There’s more, right? More… aides?”
You nod slowly.
“You know what a packer is?”
He nods slowly.
“I’ve read about them. I haven’t seen one.”
“I haven’t worn one around you. It could be confusing at first, right?”
You feel sweat start to prickle at the back of your neck.
“It could be, yeah. I get that. You can, now. You always could have, you know?”
“Yeah, I know, now.”
He clears his throat, and gives you a signature Frankie grin, and the room starts to feel a little less stifling.
“If you want to show me, I’d like to see. I wanna know everything about you, when you’re ready for me to.”
You debate for a minute, how to show him, which one to show him, before you get out of bed and duck down to grab the box that’s under your bed frame.
“I have a few, they’re all different,” you start to explain.
You set the box next to him, then crawl into bed too, and unhook the latches on the lid.
He sits patiently as you open it, and you’re afraid to look at him when they’re revealed.
“That’s a lot of penises. Peni?”
You choke on an awkward, startled laugh and shake your head.
“I know, I know.”
“No, it’s cool. I wish I could have a different dick for each occasion.”
And he’s laughing with you, not at you, and you finally brave a look at his face.
His eyes run curious circles around the inside of the box, but when he notices you watching him, his gaze falls on you again.
“Tell me about them.”
So you do.
You explain that the smaller one is easiest to wear in public without feeling awkward, but still feeling euphoric. The mid-sized one is usually for the odd occasion where you go out to clubs or bars or other queer spaces. The biggest one, you tell him, is for when you’re just at home, and you want to be able to look in the mirror and see you, on those days where you need to be as masculine as possible.
“What about this one? It’s smaller too.”
“It’s uhh… well, it’s a 3-in-1.”
“What does that mean?”
You pull it out of the box to show him the back of it.
“So this is like— so I can pee standing up. And then this” you say, grabbing the rod that’s lying in the box, “is to make it hard. So I can penetrate, or ‘jerk off’ with it. I don’t wear it out much, except for maybe when I’m gonna be out all day and I don’t know the bathroom situation.”
You look up to find his eyes and mouth both wide.
“That’s sick,” he says, then swiftly adds— “in a good way. I didn’t know that was a thing.”
You hum and nod.
“Do you… wish you were wearing one? Right now?”
And it’s kinda weird, the way he asks so innocently, but you really do. Especially with the way you’re shirtless and taped up right in front of him.
“Kinda, yeah.”
“Can I see it? You can say no. But— how does it work? Like, is it secure?”
You place your 3-in-1 back in the box, and grab your medium sized one.
“Let me show you.”
You’re already wearing your favorite briefs to pack with. You have a lot of pairs and they’re comfy with or without. So you shed your sweatpants and get up on your knees to show him.
“There’s a secret pocket in here,” you tell him, “these aren’t good for the 3-in-1, since the pocket is between the packer and my skin. But I have different underwear for those.”
He nods, and watches you pull the waistband down to show him the pocket.
“You could keep snacks in there, too.”
You laugh at the silly look in his eyes.
“Not sure they’d be that good, all pressed up against my crotch.”
“I’d eat ‘em,” he says, and wiggles his eyebrows for good measure.
“Noted,” you joke, “so— yeah, I just, put it in here.”
And you do, sliding the packer into place and fiddling the waistband back.
“I mean, usually I look in the mirror to make sure it looks right, adjust it so it doesn’t pinch anything when I walk.”
He nods as he stares at your crotch, and his hand reaches out to wrap around your thigh.
“And it feels good? To have that there?”
“Yeah, when I’m dysphoric. Just having that weight there, it feels real and right.”
He smiles at this, so wide, so sweet.
“Wear it around me. When you want to. I want you to feel that way, always. Okay?”
Your throat feels a little thick, and your eyes sting a bit, but you still smile.
“Okay,” you whisper.
“C’mere,” he whispers back.
You close your box and place it on the floor, as quick as you can. He pulls you to him tight, and it feels incredible, to have all of your bare skin against his own, finally, nothing but your tape in between you.
He kisses you without a bit of urgency, just lax and syrupy. His hand is firm against your spine, pressing you to him, and you feel dizzy when he pulls away.
“Thank you for showing me everything,” he says.
“Thanks for… just… being cool.”
He chuckles, then coaxes you on your back, so his head can take its coveted position back, over your chest. Your naked, flat chest. You hold the remote toward the TV, intent on unpausing your show, but he stops you.
“Can I hold it?”
“The remote?”
“No— your dick. Just to keep it warm? No funny business.”
And he’s looking up at you with those damn eyes again, and how could you say no to that?
last part/next part
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal characters#frankie morales#x reader#sub! frankie morales#frankie morales x reader#nb reader#gender-fluid reader#frankie morales fanfiction#ppcu fanfiction#pedro pascal cinematic universe#triple frontier fanfiction#OscarPedroPrideEvent2024
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"Unmortricken" was a lot. In fact, it might have been a little too much.
To start, I loved the glimpse of what exists outside the Central Finite Curve. The visuals were stunning and reminded me of M.C. Escher's drawings. The Jetson-like family was a nice touch--if anything can happen, who says they can't have different animation styles? All those colorful portals make me wonder what's lurking just out of sight.
It's also funny that the space outside the Curve is full of Rick's favorite thing: crystals. If he took a trip there, he'd come back with his pockets stuffed with gemstones.
Evil Morty's reappearance gave us a decent character study. Since he wasn't the antagonist, we saw him interact with the C-137s as a regular person. Morty's a little impressed, and Rick has a grudging respect for him. Others have called Evil Morty the Rickest Morty, and I agree: similar intelligence, similar technology and similar bloodthirst.
I was glad that he left in the end because that's what his character arc is about anyway. He doesn't want to be part of anyone else's story, not even another Morty's.
However, that's also part of the issue that I had with this episode. Seeing Evil Morty was great, but it was also a little...pointless? You could've had the same story without him. He's not working with Prime, and he has no ties to C-137 after "Rickmurai Jack," so it felt like the writers just said "Hey, you know what would be cool?"
I'm not against writers having fun and giving the audience what they want. "Spider-Man: No Way Home" (yeah, groan at me, Marvel haters) is fan service in blockbuster form, and it was one of the best theater experiences I've ever had.
Still, if Evil Morty came back, I think he should've had a separate episode. The episode juggled C-137 Rick, Morty, Evil Morty and Prime Rick pretty well, giving them satisfying interactions with each other, but no Evil Morty would've meant more relationship development for the C-137s.
Evil Morty's backstory also didn't reveal much about him. I mean--yeah, we all figured that he had an abusive Rick and got fed up. The fact that he had a "regular" Rick instead of a deranged lunatic does make a point about the banality of abuse. Monsters aren't always raving maniacs who torture people in their basements. Ordinary people can wear you down with a slow drip of toxicity and neglect.
I enjoyed this episode, and Evil Morty's return was exciting, but cramming the series' two biggest antagonists and storylines into twenty minutes was a little overwhelming. New plot developments kept showing up, too: Rick found Prime! Prime's various lairs! Omega device! I would've preferred a two-parter.
I'll admit that if you told me that we'd see Evil Morty and Rick Prime in the same shot, I never would have believed you, but here we are.
On that note, Prime's characterization was perfect. No attempt at a cutesy, sad backstory; he's a laughing monster until the end. And is it really the end? He has regeneration abilities, but C-137 acts like he's dead and even gives up the search. This leaves us with a few options:
C-137 killed him.
Prime fooled C-137 into thinking that he's dead when he isn't.
C-137's keeping him alive for later use.
Hopefully, this is more complicated than it looks because I'll be disappointed if this is the end of Prime. He's a brilliant reflection of C-137: the Rick he'd be without his tiny shred of humanity.
And Prime's a maniac, but he tells C-137 the truth. Rick broke into Prime's house. He pretended he belonged with this group of strangers. He latched on to Prime's grandson because he never had his own. His brutal, violent streak never went away no matter how long he tried to play house.
Prime says "Admit it! You would have been me!" In season three and parts of season four, Rick was close. His love for his family--love that he pretended he didn't have--and desire for their approval just barely pulled him back. But what kept that spark alive? How close was he to becoming a cold, unfeeling shell?
In the end, C-137's not satisfied after he destroys Prime--and weirdly, I'm not satisfied, either. Beating Prime to an unrecognizable pulp doesn't bring Rick's original family back. It doesn't erase the atrocities that Rick's committed. It doesn't make his grief go away. It doesn't change the fact that Rick teetered on the edge of turning into the monster that he despised.
What's more satisfying is that Rick didn't turn out like Prime. His Morty doesn't give two shits about Prime, but he loves him. He hugs him in relief (come on, Rick, hug him back already!), cries out "Rick? Rick!" and shakes his body when he thinks he's dead, and talks excitedly as they return home.
Rick's going to therapy, which Prime would have mocked. He went from having nobody to living with FIVE kids if you count Morty and Summer. Even he and his Jerry are pretty tight.
Rick knows this, but he still feels empty all the time. Vengeance doesn't work, drinking doesn't work...wouldn't it be easier if he just switched off his humanity and laughed at everything, even his own death?
But now that he knows how it feels to be loved, especially by his hypothetical grandson, I think he'll always find himself at the Smiths' doorstep.
#rick and morty#rick sanchez#morty smith#prime rick#weird rick#rick prime#evil morty#boy that's quite the collection of tags#unmortricken#season seven#review
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Hello again my little butterfly 🦋✨
I came to place another order if that's ok! so, the scenario is a One Piece AU, where YN has an arranged marriage with Shanks, who is one of the richest men in town, but even so, YN decides to run away on her wedding day and throw herself off a bridge, but she can't, they find her and the family manages to bring her back to the wedding, Shanks is a man very much in love with YN, the moment he sees the sadness in YN's eyes when she walks up the aisle and puts the ring on her finger Shanks, he decides to conquer her and make her the happiest wife in the world! ( PS: Shanks is in a desperate situation when he learns that his beloved literally decided to throw herself off a bridge rather than stay with him, even little sad :( )
─Shanks x wife!reader
─Summary: you didn't want to be part of that ceremony, but you're not brave enough to run away either
─Warnings: slight mention of suicide attempt, modern AU
Oh hi hi love!! 🫶🏻🦋 you really like angst 😳
You ignored the perplexed looks of people, without stopping or thinking about a second option, you gripped the thin white fabric of your wedding dress harder so as not to trip over it, your shoes had long since disappeared so you could run more comfortably. You didn't want this, you didn't want to marry an unknown guy, no one thought about your feelings? It's not something your parents have the right to play with and you weren't going to let them ruin your life for financial convenience.
The moment adrenaline started to increase when you saw how you were now being persecuted, probably due to the absence in the ceremony that was taking place in the nearby church, you felt bad for the man you had been engaged to, since it wasn't his fault either and you didn't even know him enough to determine that he was a horrible person, but this decision was too hasty and you definitely didn't agree to this.
With your heart in your throat you ran until you tripped over your own sore feet, your breathing accelerated even more when you heard shouts of your name, taking courage again you stood up with a new impetus, although when you noticed how the distance between your pursuers was shortening more and more, your brain began to draw an extreme line in your thoughts.
Would it hurt? Could you die? Well, you were going to see for yourself what it felt like to jump off a bridge just to avoid facing an unwanted fate.
You quickly climbed onto the thick railing, stabilizing yourself standing on it, the next few seconds felt like a blur, like a part of memory that was difficult to remember, the fear of possible death and the indecision that comes with taking a long time to jump into the void made one of the guys chasing you caught you before you did something crazy.
The next thing you know after that, you were back in one of the private rooms of the church, being yelled at by your mother while your father looked on disapprovingly, you didn't care, nothing mattered to you at that moment, you let them go back to put on your makeup, you let them put new shoes on you and they changed the dirty surface fabric of your dress as if you were a doll, lifeless.
The ceremony returned to its course, Shanks waited awkwardly all this time at the altar, and when he saw you appear next to him his heart shattered, you weren't even looking at him, your eyes were lost somewhere far away in this unwanted reality, you lacked any kind of expression. He knew it, he knew how you felt, and yet he felt a little selfish for wanting to be your husband, for wanting to love you unconditionally, this marriage may be arranged, but he admired every drop of courage you poured out to prevent this event, every anger and every fierce response you gave to the first meetings between both families.
"Now… husband and wife, you can kiss each other."
You were both so absorbed in your own thoughts that you barely heard the priest's last words. Shanks was the first to step forward, holding your waist slowly as if he were asking permission and asking if it was okay to do so. You didn't move an inch, your eyes were still lost even when he sealed your fate with a cold kiss devoid of love, at least, lacking on your part.
Shanks knew it wouldn't be easy, that you weren't going to trust, that he wasn't going to receive tons of affection, even looks, he knew you were in a delicate state, after all, you'd rather almost kill yourself than get married.
You didn't bother with his emotions, you didn't bother to ask about his tastes, his hobbies or how his day had been, you just spent the days dead, repeating your routine, your life remained the same in a way, a few more numbers in the account. but in exchange of what? Your freedom and decision. You were hurt, you had been damaged by your own parents, your emotional wounds would not heal overnight and you would refuse to show a modicum of affection until you recovered.
Shanks knew that he would have to sleep alone for months, that an empty house would await him, that all his praise and gifts would be quickly discarded, but it doesn't matter, maybe you didn't look for him or you didn't want him, but as your husband, he would do everything he could to at least help you cope with the situation, he really loves you, but it won't be easy to win your affection because you never wanted this.
Your heart began to heal over time, it took a long time, you decided to completely break the relationship with your family, although before they were the only ones you could turn to, Shanks showed you that he would be there, that despite not being the husband that you chose as such, made you trust him, made you feel loved again.
He wasn't a bad man, he wasn't the most wonderful person in the world either, but he proved to be enough for you to stop feeling that emptiness inside your heart, step by step he managed to break the walls that you built around your emotions, Shanks turned out to be something unexpected in your life, someone you didn't think would be so important and he was able to grant some peace, some happiness back into your life.
Maybe you are not yet ready to accept that he is your husband, but you slowly began to meet someone you could voluntarily fall in love with.
#one piece#op#one piece x reader#one piece modern au#modern au#shanks#shanks x reader#x reader#husband shanks#wife reader#fem reader#request#one piece x fem reader#shanks x wife reader#sfw#reader insert#xreader#angst?
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Little Stars and Such (Astarion x Reader)
It's here, the piercing fic, in which body-modded Tav gives Astarion hella piercings. I made a previous post with his piercing map in case you guys don't know the terms (I basically didn't until yesterday)
Tw - needles, implied sex
Recommended Song: Gregg's Woods - Alec Holowka
For the past couple of days, Astarion has been asking quite a few questions about your piercings. You had adorned your nose and face in tiny pieces of metal, all done by hand. Your little collection has grown over time, most recently with an eyebrow piercing once you settled down in Baldur's Gate once again.
"Do they hurt?"
"Like, when you pierce them? Yeah. You get used to it though. Surprised you don't have any honestly, elves are known for having the most elaborate piercings."
He stays silent for a moment, and you realize he wouldn't know that.
"Wasn't exactly a thing Cazador just let us do. Body modifications were mostly limited to demonic scars and being cut up for fun."
"Right... sorry."
"Don't be."
The conversation ended pretty abruptly, but picked up the next day while you were swapping out your nose ring.
"Do you ever get scared that your little ring will get caught on something and rip out of your nose?"
A sudden question, but a welcome one.
"I mean, sometimes, but not many people are that close to my nose. Unless you're planning on ripping out my piercing?"
You eye him suspiciously and he smirks.
"Oh, I would never."
This goes on for days, little prodding questions about all your accessories. One morning, while the two of you are lying in bed, you catch him staring at the helix on your ear.
"Astarion do you... do you want a piercing? Because I can do them. I mean I did these to myself."
"I've been thinking about it. I'm just a little nervous is all."
"Why my love?"
"I mean, I've never really had the freedom to do what I want with my body, in a lot of ways. That's one of those things I never got to explore, all the body modifications people are oh so familiar with. I suppose I could've done one with an embroidery needle if I was desperate, but that's just not something I had the liberty to think about."
You move a strand of hair out of his eyes.
"Well, you have the freedom to do whatever you want now."
"Then perhaps I'd like a couple."
"A couple? You don't wanna start with one?"
"Nonsense! One would be sad and pathetic, and we know I am a man of extravagance."
"Alright, if you insist."
You then grab a notebook sitting on the bedside table, and begin to draw out a plan for his piercings. Astarion insists that he only wants them on his ears, because he doesn't want anything to ruin his perfect face. As you're sketching, you continue to talk.
"You know this is gonna suck, right? Since your ears are so sensitive?"
"Sensitive? What makes you say that."
You blankly stare at him until he gives up.
"Okay fine, but I'm sure it can't be that bad!"
"I don't know. I mean I'm going to stab multiple holes through your ears. You barely like them being touched."
"I've been through enough pain. Nothing compares to jagged cuts in your back, I promise."
There are many moments like that, where he says something tragic that you just can't bring yourself to argue with. Without another word, he curls up against you, and the two of you discuss the options he has. Eventually, you settle on five on each side, because he INSISTED they be symmetrical.
"Tav, what kind of idiot would I look like if I had one ear with a bunch of shit on it, and one just, empty?"
"I guess you're not wrong."
He decides on two helixes, two lobe piercings, and a daith. You're a little surprised that he's going all out on this, but you don't mind. Everyone has that thing that lets them feel free, the thing they finally do to show the world 'I'm my own person.' Besides, if he didn't like them he could simply let them heal back up, forget this ever happened.
You go to grab your little makeshift piercing kit, full of fine needles you've collected over time, just in case you ever lose some.
"Now, you'll have to wear some of mine since you don't have your own earrings yet, but I'm sure you won't mind because my collection is amazing."
He sits up in bed, his shirt sleeve softly draping off his shoulder. If he could still be in the sun, you'd imagine a beam of light coming through the window right now, illuminating his face. You sit beside him, gently placing the box of needles by your feet.
"Alright, I'm gonna walk you through this as I do it, and if you want to stop at any time we can."
"Thank you my love."
The thought crosses your mind, that he'd probably not let any other soul on the planet do this kind of thing. Any time he's let someone else have control over his body, it's been riddled with sin and scars. But you? You've always been kind, soft, present. That's one thing he loves most about you, that he feels like he can be present. Not drifting off somewhere else, not closing off his mind to defend himself, not playing a chess match in his head. It's, easy. Life is easy now, and isn't that something wonderful?
"Alright, we're gonna start on the lobe. You feel the needle?"
You hold it lightly against his ear, and he shivers a little.
"Mhm."
"Alright, don't tense, but it's gonna hurt."
You hear the air escape through his teeth as the needle goes through. A pretty clean job if you do say so yourself.
"Well?"
You put in a dangling gold moon, waiting to see how he feels.
"Painful, but not horrible."
"Want to go again?'
"Of course."
He says it a little suggestively, and you give him a playful push.
"Save it for later imp."
You continue with his piercings, taking small breaks in between for conversation. You've continued adorning his ears with astral-themed jewelry, little stars and such. By the time you've finished the last one, you're quite pleased with your work. Astarion almost doesn't let you put the last earring in since he's so excited to see what you've done. He had Gale teach him mirror image a while ago, so he could finally see his reflection whenever he wanted. After casting it and giving his ears a look, he smiles.
Astarion laughs at your comment, giving one of those genuine smiles you used to rarely see. You silently curse the people that took that smile from him, wondering how anyone could see this specimen and torment him. He's like a pixie, a little trickster, someone you could pick up and hold forever. You know you're probably the only one who sees him that way, the only one who would call him cute, but he is. He enjoys it, being viewed as something that isn't devious or sexual, but a bright presence. You told him once how it's ironic that he can't be in the sun, because he was probably sunnier than the sun itself. He'd never let you tell anyone else that though.
"I... I think I quite like them."
"I do too. It's fitting."
You plant a kiss on his cheek.
"Worth the pain?"
"Most things are my love. Like you."
His hand meets your face, taking you into a deep kiss. When you break away, you whisper in his ear.
"I think they make you sexier too."
A chuckle under his breath, lips meeting again, and the morning is soon wasted away in bed. What a joy, to wake up every day with him, with someone living their life anew. Who knows what tomorrow will bring? Neither of you know, but it's exciting none-the-less.
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“But daddy I love him.” with crybaby! reader aka defending Ransom to your father and the soft kisses and sex afterwords and him saying how proud he is of you. Maybe he also makes you cry more bc he just loves your tears.
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
WC:2k+ GIF by forchrisevans
I love love love this sm! I'm making this a dark ransom Au where he's a writer that's supa rich <3 A/n: I literally felt so bad for the dad in this fic why did I make the dad so sad man.
(Warnings!! Dark!Ransom!! Mentions of murder!! Smut!! Soft! Ransom!! tiny bit of angst!! Dirty talk!!)
You were excited for tonight. You were finally introducing you boyfriend to you parents. You weren't nervous as Ransoms cocky ways and charming nature eased your fears. He always had a way with words, maybe that's why he became a writer. You had tried to read one of his book before he pried it from your hands and began talking about how you wouldn't like the book, and because you loved him you trusted him.
You were absolutely oblivious to the fact that every book he wrote was centred around you. He wrote story after story about how after follow the woman of his dreams he finally had her and now he had to kill anyone who stood in his way. Half of his fans loved the books and the other half was terrified of Ransom and researching that all his girlfriends guy friends had died.
You sighed and stretched your limbs out on the king sized bed at Ransoms house. You turned and laid on him, drawing lazy flower patterns onto his chest. He looked at you softly, soaking in the attention you were offering him. "Ran?" He let out a deep hum before he brought his hand up to card through your hair. "Are you nervous for tonight?" He looked down at you and flashed you his winning smile.
"Not one bit baby, everyone loves me. Luckily you're the only one that has my love in return." And if they didn't love him, he'd set up there death as a car accident and sweep you off your feet into his house. He was ready with so many options so he wasn't nervous or scared. Instead he was curious to see what your parents reaction would be.
"Come on flower we best get up and get ready." You shook your head and settled firmly on top of Ransom. He chuckled at you and sat up. You clung to his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his waist. He slid his strong arm under your ass and stood up looking down at you and kissing your nose softly. "Hmm I thought you were my flower but you're actually just my koala." You giggled and stretched your legs out. He placed you down gently, kissing you sweetly one last time.
Ransom headed towards his walk in wardrobe and pulled out the famous white cable knit sweater. He looked kinder in this, more homely. Soft as you'd say. You smiled at him and he smiled back at you. He pulled his pants on and you pulled on your little black dress that Ransom adored. It wasn't too short, it was just right. He stared at you doped up on his love for you before he attacked your face with kisses.
You felt so safe in Ransoms arms while he rained kisses all over you. And just like that all your potential worries disappeared into the night.
Ransom pulled up into the large gravel drive way and flashed you a smirk. He was used to snobby driveways, after all he stemmed from a rich family. You both got out and Ransom tutted at you mumbling about how he wanted to open you door for you like a gentleman. You both closed your doors and Ransom hurried over to you, holding your hand as you began walking to the front door.
You pressed the door bell and it was immediately opened by your mother rather than one of the house cleaners. You smiled at her and you beamed at you, and the glanced at Ransom. "Come in both of you! Dinner has just finished being made!" She rushed off and you looked at Ransom. He looked down at you and pulled your hand which was interlocked with his, up to his face where he placed a tender kiss on your knuckles.
You both took your shoes and coats off and you led him to the dinning room. Your mum was hurrying around playing plates down all the while your father sat still until he moved his head and stared at Ransom. Beside your dad was one of Ransoms book. You were so happy your dad had read some of Ransoms works, surely he'd like him.
Whilst in Ransoms mind he knew he was completely and utterly fucked. The look in your fathers eyes and the glimpse of the folded pages in the book proved that he knew that Ransom was not everything he seemed. Ransom could feel his heart hurt a small bit, he knew that when the 'accident' happens you're gonna weep your little heart out and it will be all because of him. And for a split second, Ransom wished that there was another way instead of that but there wasn't. So he swallowed down the heart ache he'll suffer and sat down at the table.
Your father stared at him while your mother and you chirped happily about you day. You began digging into you meal as did you mum, both of you still nattering oblivious to the staring match between your dad and Ransom. He flashed him a gentle smile, a peace treaty almost, and began digging into the meal. "This is absolutely amazing Ma'am." Your mum blushed and thanked him.
As you were all dining your dad finally spoke, still staring at the sick bastard in front of him. "Hey honey, have you ever read any of Ransoms works?" You looked up and blinked noting the angry look burried in his eyes. "No, they're not my kinda thing." You turned to look at Ransom and flashed him a smile which he returned.
"Well you should honey. There's this one character in here that's exactly like your old friend. And he died the exact same way as he did." You dropped you fork and stared at your dad. Shocked that he would ever bring that up let alone try and claim Ransom had something to do with it. "Why would you say that?" Your dad turned his harsh glare towards you.
"I know you're not the brightest honey, but he's a goddamn sociopath! He's insane! I don't want you seeing him anymore!" You stood up shocked by your dad's behaviour, Ransom stood up too and left the room, he began getting his shoes and coat on when he heard your cries. He peaked around the corner and saw tears streaming down your face. "But daddy I love him! He would never hurt me! And he knows that if he hurt anyone I loved, it would hurt me! So how can you even suggest that!"
Ransom felt his heart hurt, he remembered holding you everynight while you were grieving your friends. God knows how much it would hurt when you had to grieve your parents. God he would do anything to avoid that outcome. "How stupid are you?! He's a murderer! He killed your friends claiming it was a sick and twisted version of love!"
You swallowed down a sob and bit back at him for these insane accusations. "I never want to see you again! You won't get an invite to our wedding or meet your first grandchild! Not until you apologize to the man I love!" You dad scoffed, tears in his eyes yet he was holding back. You mother was openly weeping. The pause lasted too long cementing your choice in choosing Ransom. You walked out and bumped into him. He hugged you and you got ready and left.
The second you were in the bedroom, Ransom was kissing you, softly sweetly. Every part of him was gently. Even as you began undressing each other, he treated you delicately. Not wanting to illicit tears, not yet. Because they'd be sad tears, not tears of ecstacy.
He kissed along your legs, allowing his hands to gently trail up your thighs before they splayed out on your hips. He moved his head up, and blowed along your wetness. Adoring the little flutter of your hips and the breathy moan that escaped your pretty mouth. He licked gently, slowly. Torturing you yet he was appreciating your taste, trying to put it into words. He went back for a second taste before he centred on your clit, he moved his hands then. Dragging one down towards your hole with a feather light tight before he plunged one finger in and then another. His other hand trailed up taking a breast in his hand.
He looked up and saw the beauty that was you, your head tilted back while moans escaped you like a desperate song. He flicked your nipple before he began gently circling it with his thick digit. While you were preoccupied with the stimulation of your nipple, Ransom plunged another finger into you before he pulled away completely.
He felt the need to be even more submerged in this moment of pleasure with you. He leaned down and captured your lips in his. Holding you close towards his body. You felt him move his tip up and down your slit, you could feel his precum mix with your own wetness. He stopped and places his cock against your hole. He stared down at you as if you were the world itself. "I love you so much." And with that he applied pressure and his cock slipped in with a pop. He slowly pushed down until he was fully settled in you.
You caught your breath after Ransom knocked it out of you by entering you. You stared at him and pressed you lips together, completely enthralled by him. By his declaration of love. He slowly began thrusting and pulled away, allowing for your shallow breathing to sink. "My angel, you did so good for me. Defended my name. Defended me. God you are worth every ounce of my love and more. Fucking perfect tight pussy. Was made for me by the Gods." You felt tears gather in your eyes at his words. He began thrusting faster.
His slid his hand down and began to circle your clit, watching with pride blooming in his chest as your tears slide down your face. You were embracing the ultimate pleasure of his cock and the result was something so beautiful that he couldn't even fathom how you weren't worshipped. He leaned down and licked your tears before pressing his forehead to yours and watching more tears stream down your face.
"Fuck you're so good to me baby, so fucking good. This pussy treats me so well too. Fucking grips my cock so well. Would worship this cunt, would worship you. So good baby."
He couldn't help it he took his hand away from your button and instead wrapped it around you throat, fucking you with vigor over the sight before him. Tears streaming down your face, his hand tight around your throat and your breasts bouncing. "Fuck! My little crybaby, you look perfect like this. Need this in a picture. Fucking beautiful. You deserve to be fucked like this baby." He leaned down and licked the tears off your face all the while holding your throat tighter making your face slowly bloom red over the lack of air flow. "Fuck it looks like you're crying diamonds. I'll get you a diamond, get you one for your dainty finger." He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lips.
Before he pulled away and squeezed tight on your throat and began pounding you so fast that it took only 5 thrusts before you convulsed on his cock and bucked you body up desperate to be free from his hands yet also enraptured in your orgasm. Ransom came seconds after. The tightness of your cunt and the beauty of you was enough to push him past his limit. His hips stuttered and he came, some of it inside you before he pulled out and coated you in it. He pulled his hand off your throat, embracing truly how amazing you were.
You laid catching your breath just barely recognising Ransom getting you water and a towel to clean you up. After that was all done he got in bed and you cuddled with him. Your head on his chest while his arm held you protectively. "You did so good for me baby, I'm so proud of you." You batted your eyelashes at him, utterly soft for his praise. "I did?" He smiled and kissed your forehead. "Absolutely my love, I'm so happy baby because of you. I'm gonna put a ring on you, that's how proud I am of you." You giggled and cuddled closer into him. "We'll see bear." And with that you fell into a peaceful sleep.
Ransom grabbed his phone and cancellation off the plan of the 'accident'. Instead he would wait for your dad to crack under the pressure. Especially when everyone else in the family got a wedding invite except him. Ransom was happy truly, there would be no more blood on his hands and now he could focus purely on you.
#ransom drydale x you#ransom drysdale#ransom smut#ransom thrombey x reader#ransom drysdale x reader#ransom drysdale x you#dark ransom drysdale#ransom drysdale x female reader#ransom drysdale x black!reader#ransom drysdale x plus size reader#anon ask#dark ransom drysdale x reader#dark ransom#dark ransom x reader
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growing up is | quinn hughes
author's note; i love a hughes boy and i love a ruel song. also my keyboard has a wonky r key right now. pls bare with me and any spelling mistakes because of it.
summary; in which quinn has a hard time coming to terms with the road your relationship has taken. inspired by growing up is ___ by ruel.
word count;warnings; angst, mentions of drinking & smoking, mentions of sex.
characters; quinn hughes x reader
Heard you moved out of town on the weekend. Understand, but I'm sad that you're leaving. Are you up making friends with the ceiling? Yeah, I know the feeling
Quinn wondered if his brother could hear his frown down the phone. He held it to his ear, refraining from a grimace as Jack described how he had just helped you move out of you first apartment. The one Quinn had helped you pick out.
I wasn't trying to let you down, I was just working my shit out. I'm sorry I didn't know how much I led you on
He could remember where your friendship had stuttered, becoming complicated and messy and unbearable. You had wanted so much more than he could give you. He blamed himself. Hockey was his life, and he had chosen his passion for it over any hope of a life with you.
Growin' up is weird, sleep with friends, break a heart
The two of you had first slept together on a Saturday night. Jack had friends 'round to hang about the firepit and Quinn was facing a self-imposed confinement to his room because of it. You, however, were his biggest opponent in that. He could hear you laughing, howling with delight. After an hour of sitting thee, waiting for you to start sulking that he wasn't there, he finally left his room. Only to loiter in the kitchen for a few minutes, but it was enough. Before long you were holding a quiet conversation with him. It only took an hour or two for the older boy to escort you back to his bedroom.
Question everything you thought
The one night stand had left his head spinning. He was far too infatuated with you. You lingered on his sheets and clothes, and he couldn't step foot in his bedroom or even glance at the clothes you had helped him discard without thinking of you. It wasn't long before it happened again. He never realised that his interest in you could spiral this far.
Split a pill, smoke a dart. Growin' up is weird, fall in love for a year
He lit up with Luke months later, the off season giving them a rare opportunity to partake in the regular activities of older brother corruption. And as Luke's faced twisted as he tried to hold the smoke in, he said "So, when are you two going to admit you're in love?"
"Shut up." Quinn laughed. He reached over and plucked the blunt from Luke's fingers. "We're basically just fuck buddies." He clarified, taking a long draw of it and then rudely blowing the smoke back into his brother's face.
"For like, a year." Luke pointed out. Quinn just shook his head, and so the younger boy laughed "Fine! Call it what you want. We all see how you two look at each other."
And then I disappear, wish that you were here
The conversation had really thrown him off. Quinn was now hyperaware of how he treated you. He was blowing you off, ignoring your texts. He wasn't in love with you. Definitely not. Probably not.
The distance was affecting him. He spent practices wondering if you were thinking of him and games wondering if he would catch you in the crowd. He was distracted and it was throwing him off.
He didn't miss the looks from his teammates. He knew he either had to call it off officially or go crawling back to you.
Growin' up is strange, get too close, push away, thinking you would do the same. New regrets, new mistakes
For a while, Quinn chose the second option. It was just sex. Right?
That's what he told himself at the club with you, his brothers, and some of their friends. You had brought some of your own, chatting away happily.
Quinn only noticed your distraction because he was playing his game on how long it lasted. He needed to show himself you weren't all he wanted anymore. One day you would find someone and decide your fuck buddy status was discardable. He needed to know he could still play when that happened, still live.
So he picked a girl and before long his tongue was down her throat. He felt giddy with alcohol and guilt, especially so when he turned to see your back as your friends escorted a crying you out of the club.
Growin' up is strange when the one who's to blame is lookin' at the mirror, wish that you were here.
He needed a haircut. It was shaggy and dishevelled and he didn't have you to carefully trim the edges when it annoyed him anymore. Of course the thought only enraged him more as he looked at himself in the mirror. His jaw locked as he saw the physical proof of how far he had fallen since fucking it all up.
He covered the mirror with a towel and booked an appointment at a barber's shop.
Get emotional at two in the morning, it's a habit, know I shouldn't be callin'. Then you let me in, is that what you wanted? Is this what we wanted?
A tough game finally breaks him. He should have been asleep, exhausted from the physical and mental work he had put in for his team.
Instead he's dialling your number. To be safe he had deleted your contact, but those 10 digits were engrained in his head. When you picked up your voice was raspy with sleep. "Quinn?"
"Hey." He breathed out happily.
"Trev's sleeping, what's up?"
He paused. "Trev? As in Trevor?" He questioned. Jack's friend, his friend, player on the team he had played days ago. "Yeah uh- I thought Jack had told you. Sorry."
"Oh no, he did. Don't worry. I just uh..." He bit back the tears. The lie rolled off his tongue easier than it should've. He racked his brain for an excuse. "Tough game?" You filled in for him. "I watched. I'm sorry, Q."
He held back a curse. "Yeah uh. Thanks. We should catch up."
"Sure." And then the two of you fell silent. There were quiet snores on your side of the phone and Quinn was hit with the harsh reality 'Trev's sleeping' meant he was sleeping next to you.
"Think we can plan it in the morning?" You said. He was reminded of all the times you would say that smilingly to him about breakfast, or how he was going to sneak you out of his room without his family noticing.
"Yeah. Yeah, sure."
Now you're back in town, no, I can't come around. Are we better without the what if's and doubts. Is this it? Are we both too far gone to forget, and try again?
"Quinn? Are you listening?" Jack asked. Quinn snapped out of his thoughts about the phone call you two had shared less than a week ago. "Yeah, sorry, go on."
"Anyways," Jack began again, "the two of them are having a house warming next week. Since you're in town you should come."
"I don't know, Jack." Quinn sighed.
"She asked if I would ask you."
Oh. You wanted him there.
Oh-oh, bet I'll just disappear. Oh, will I just disappear? Wish that you were here. Growing up is
But he was too old now, a year and a half between when your relationship had started with fiery passion and clashing teeth.
"I have practice, I think." He lied. "But you can tell them I'm happy for them."
#nhl#nhl fic#vancouver canucks#quinn hughes#quinn hughes fic#adoristsposts#trevor zegras#jack hughes
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Thinking about how Tenjiku was extremely painful but important for Koko and Inupi’s development and sub plot.
It was the moment where the worst fears of both of them emerged in very dangerous moment.
Inupi feared that Koko saw him only as Akane’s substitute and Koko feared that Inupi was using him for his own interest - the gang and money, since he’s good at making it - like everyone else, having internalized and accepted it was the only way to make amend for Akane’s death and that it was the only thing he was good at and that people needed him for.
Take into consideration both of them was thinking of saving the other:
when Mucho and Sanzu ambushed them, Koko had no choice in joining Tenjiku to save Inupi -and Takemichi-, (and it's not that just because Kakucho says to Takemichi that Koko "chose to be in Tenjiku himself" , that's how it went: it's obvious Koko was coerced and tried to do the best he could to help Inupi and himself given the situation: he was alone, he couldn't fight the whole Tenjiku alone), while Inupi wanted to be in Toman, under Takemichi’s division, because he saw that Toman is similiar to the original Shin's BLACK DRAGON and because he knew they wouldn’t have been used anymore, Koko in particular since he’s the “money maker”.
But Koko was so used to that life and to not consider his own wishes that he never reconsidered joining Toman, it wasn't the safest option. Koko had no attachment to any gang in particular, he cared about Inupi and his money making activities, therefore as long as Inupi wanted him in a gang, he sticked with him (we saw in the last birthday pic that Wakui draws for Koko, that middle school koko made business with the haitanis before being in the 10th gen BD, he clearly had his own illegal side activities unrelated to gangs-of course being in a gang helped with his business and of course when he was one of the executives of BD, that gave him also power and protection, but Koko always did what he did alone, before being in any gang) ;
but that time Toman was weak, meanwhile Tenjiku, even if it was the opposite of the gang Inupi wanted to belong to, was the safest option and a situation more similar the the 10th generation Black Dragon, where violence and profits were the norm; so Koko negotiated a place for Inupi if he’d joined Tenjiku, thinking it was the safest option.
Meanwhile Inupi was willing to fight to finally be free from that world. I am always so sad that Inupi's trauma is always so overlook and never directly addressed in the manga (undirectly it was, I mean joining a gang it's not a thing that you generally do when everything is fine in your life). Because Inupi
was saved by Koko when he was looking for Akane - and Inupi knows it, that's were the fear of being just a substitute for Akane comes from
sees Koko being desperate about trying to save her and blaming himself when she died anyway
is aware that his parents have financial problems after loosing the house and ofc they're a mess for Akane
some of these facts are in headcanon territory, but how could have Inupi have felt after her death? of course we see him crying and sad, but he's aware he's alive "by chance". How did this conditioned him? did he felt he wasn't supposed to be there? that his parents and koko didn't love him enough and would have preferred her instead of him - canonically we kow Inupi doesn't go home often -ch.157- and so we can assume he has not the best relation ship with his parents, which is understandable after such a tragedy; we know Inupi is grateful that Koko always followed him -ch.142-, which is the same Koko felt about Inupi -ch.252., but was Inupi grateful to be alive at all or he himself would have preferred to die? and his relationship with his late sister? he cries, he grieves, but then what? is there a part of him that sees koko so desperate for akane that, in an irrational moment, would like to be on the receiving end of all koko's attentions? does he get a closure? probably he does, but it's off screen.
At this point of the story, -Tenjiku arc- Inupi understood Koko's behavior, when he tried to talk about the whole situation (in the previous arc,when he asked Koko if he was still thinking about "the promise") and Koko denied, he never insisted because he knew Koko wasn't ready yet. Maybe Inupi, probably for narrative reasons, or maybe because that's how he is as a person, or maybe for some other reason that Wakui didn't explain, somehow manage to arrive to a point of self awareness, but in that moment, it was a complete chaos, and the insecurities and the communication problems that Inupi and Koko always had emerged and couldn't be contained and escalated the way we witnessed.
Even if they had the other’s well being in mind, but all their deepest fears came out in the worst moment and that lead to their break-up.
**spoilers for the end of the arc and their sub plot resolution in the final arc under the cut**
But even after their fight they still wished the best to each other, showing their genuine care even after what happened, because in the end, Koko wanted to be with Inupi, it's his conscience in Akane's form that "frees" him and allows himself to follow his heart and to stay with Inupi forgiving himself for something that wasn't his fault❤️🩹
#tokyo revengers#inui seishu#kokonoi hajime#kokonui#inukoko#akane inui#tokyorev meta#zae talks about tr#tokyorev anime spoilers
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Hey want to hear my super sad Ven and Lauriam au? Good cause I wasn't actually asking >:)
So what if when everyone was deciding who goes into the lifeboats Lauriam decided that Ven was small enough that they could share a lifeboat and leave an extra so not as many would be left behind (how that changes things probably not much sadly. They all still get separated across time never to see each other again except Ven and Lauriam).
But then they both end up in the keyblade graveyard. Ven gets complete amnesia and while Lauriam is pretty woosy and doesn't remember everything of their trip to the future he does remember he needs to find Strelitzia, that he has more friends he needs to find and above all else protect Ven. Unfortunately Xehanort finds them (thanks magic mirror -_-) and recognizes them with as the friends from his dreams. Xehanort initially promises to help Lauriam in anyway he can and offers to train him to be stronger. Lauriam doesn't have a lot of options especially with a weakened amnesiac Ven so he initially agrees.
He comes to regret that when the training is essentially xehanort trying to force them into roles of light and dark to create the x-blade which of course fails. Ven doesn't remember much but he does remember Lauriam as one of his friends and the two boys refuse to fight each other. So they often get absolutely thrashed by xehanort. Since ven is still inexperienced he's not able to win on his own and Lauriam focuses more on protecting Ven so he gets beaten due to lack of focus. Days will go by where xehanort leaves them in a wounded injuries state on the ground before healing. And usually he just heals Ven since he's still not strong enough to be a threat.
Lauriam has tried to make some escape attempts to get them to away safety but xehanort is too strong to take on alone especially if lauriam is purposely left in a half healed state.
Eventually xehanort starts to focus more on Ven since he knows he has a powerful darkness trapped inside. Ways of trying to draw it out have included Lauriam being ganged up on by too many enemies and Ven failing to fend off enough to effectively protect him. Ven being forced to fight wave after wave of enemies to get to a tied up Lauriam and getting overwhelmed. Xehanort hopes by pushing him to the brink of death darkness will break free but doesn't.
Eventually his patience grows thin, he thinks an all out assault on Ven's life will finally do it. A critically injured laruaim is off to the side as neo shadow heartless circle around Ven. Lauriam is desperately trying to summon the strength to get to his little brother but can't. Ven is begging for mercy but is ignored and is then nearly torn apart by said heartless as lauriam watches on in horror.
We then get the actual scene of xehanort tearing Ven in two pulling Darkness and Ven's natural born darkness out creating Vanitas. Lauriam struggles to Ven and desperately pulls him away and panics when he sees the light both literally and figuratively leaving Ven's eyes and heart and realizes he's dying. Desperate Lauriam gets up to attack but is knocked down by Vanitas. However the blast creates a portal and Lauriam gets sucked away leaving a dying Ven alone with xehanort.
Lauriam ends up somewhere else (maybe dwarven woodlands) it takes a while for him to gain enough strength let alone energy to heal but he has to find Ven.
Years go by and he's been chasing rumors about a girl with orange pigtails and a boy with spiky blond hair and a key shaped sword. Hope that they're both alive and within in reach. He makes his way to Radiant Garden only to run into Braig/Xigbar/Luxu who recognizes him. Seeing potential in Lauriam Luxu challenges Lauriam and beats him then takes him to the research basement where the other future org members are disappearing. Luxu makes vague references to Ven catching Lauriams attention and demands to know where he is.
Only for Luxu to give him the suggest cruelest grin and be told Ven is dead. They captured him and tortured him for information on the keyblade war and foretellers but he didn't give them anything. No longer useful they decided to get rid of him but before they did he told then they'd all be sorry when Lauriam comes to save him and he'd make them pay. Luxu delivers the crushing blow that Ven died calling and begging for his brother to save him.
This does the job and Lauriam succumbs to darkness and willingly gives up his heart. The crushing weight of failure, grief, and regret too much to bear. He failed his siblings. He didn't protect them and now they're both gone he has nothing left so becoming a Nobody is a welcome respite from the agony he feels.
And as he walks the hallowed halls of Castle Oblivion Marluxia gets the strangest feeling of dejavu as if something important is here but he can't quite put his finger on it but if it really were that important well he would've remembered it right?
Meanwhile deep in the chamber of waking Ven sleeps safe but imprisoned and even though he's waiting for a different friend to come save him his dreams show that he longs for someone else to open his eyes and promise him everything will be alright.
TL;DR what if Lauriam and Ven escaped together become Xehanorts victims, Lauriam couldn't stop Ven from being ripped in two they get separated again, he refuses to believe Ven is gone and that's the only thing that keeps him going for years, only to be lied and told that the only person he had left is gone and he failed miserably to save them and their last moments were begging to be saved, so losing his heart was all Lauriam could do to escape his pain.
^ my honest reaction to this
oughghhhhhh.... anon how could you...... the goddamn heartbreak. turmoil. i'm gonna kill old man xehanort with my own two hands
#ask rosie a question!#anon ask#kingdom hearts#kingdom hearts union x#khux#kh lauriam#kh ventus#lauriam#ventus#windflower family fun times!
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Here is the Transcript to the Questions Answered by Eric Heisserer!
Recently, we were very fortunate that Shadow and Bone showrunner Eric Heisserer agreed to answer some fan questions! Below is the transcript of the screenshots that have been previously shared—not an entirely new interview. The transcript in this format should be much more accessible and convenient, particularly for anyone using a screen reader.
To make it easier to read through Eric’s responses, we’ve nested his answers below coordinating questions.
Okay, taking these one at a time -- because some of these will have very long answers, and I may have to return at later intervals to answer them: (note: questions will be in bold)
"I'd like to know if there's a way to liberate the pre-written scripts if Netflix doesn't plan on using them" - Asked by Christian Thalmann, the creator of the Fjerdan language.
"There is a way to liberate the Crows scripts from Netflix, yes, and in fact that would be part of the buyout for another streamer when acquiring the rights to Leigh's novels. It would be a package deal."
"In my view, "The Crows" have the potential to revitalize the Grishaverse. Unlike "Shadow And Bone," this new show could rely less on elaborate visual effects and offer a fresh narrative angle. Heist-themed shows are currently in high demand, adding to its appeal. Am I mistaken in thinking that our focus should primarily be on "The Crows"? The likelihood of "Shadow And Bone" returning seems slim, but l've always believed that "The Crows" had a greater chance of success." - asked by fellow fan Joleen
The focus on the Crows is helpful in two ways -- first, those scripts are written, which lets us get a running start at production, and second, just from casual analysis of book sales, it's far more popular worldwide than other Grishaverse titles. So it will be a bigger draw for viewers.
The trap though is the cost. It's more grounded than S&B, sure, but the Ice Court is a unique location that either requires a really costly set build, or set extensions and VFX work to make it look authentic, which means nearly every shot of the heist once our crew gets there could be a VFX shot.
My guess is the budget would be on par with S2 of S&B.
"If/when the spinoff is back (finger crossed) was there anything he had planned that would completely surprised, for good reasons obviously, the audience. And we should hold our breath for that twist/turn?" - asked by fellow fan Rti
Yes, there is a surprise or two in the Crows spinoff season, but overall it's as close to the novel as we could make it. And Leigh's novel is such an amazing story with natural cliffhangers that work as episode "out" moments, etc. I think the biggest move we made was to feature every single Crow's backstory to go with their episode. So that was fun/sad/exciting.
"What was the difficulties you mentioned about filming Season 2 in that Reddit comment? Don't want to sound negative but what went wrong?!" - asked by fellow fan Mitra
S2 kept throwing challenges at us, and it started long before we got to production. Like months earlier, when we learned the location we used for the Little Palace in S1 was closed to us due to the pandemic. So right there we lost out on a ton of S&S scenes, because it wouldn't be a match. But we also had written a compelling side arc for Ivan and Fedyor in S2, these two Grisha trapped on either side of the civil war. Each of them played a big role in the story, but Simon (Ivan) had a feature film that overlapped with our schedule and couldn't move, which meant we lost him. So Daegan worked to revise the season keeping Fedyor and leaving Ivan as most likely dead from the end of S1. He was Kirigan's right-hand man for the season. But poor Julian caught COVID just when we were to shoot out most of his scenes, and after trying to make the schedule work, we had to come to the brutal truth that there wasn't a way to keep Fedyor in the story. Our only option was to bring him in at like episode 8, which would've been too little, too late.
COVID continued to be a monster all through production, requiring us to juggle schedules and miss out on days, and it was madness for the cast, who had to pivot with almost no notice whenever someone was ill and quarantined. This isn't unique to our show of course -- it happened with everyone. It's just a challenge.
Beyond that, we had been given the go to write a special standalone story, The Demon in the Wood. This would have been released on its own around Christmas, like a BBC special but for Netflix, and would help bridge seasons 1 and 2 by showing a little of what Kirigan was doing before we see him in 52, and also provide more character context, etc. Christina Strain wrote that and did great work adapting Leigh's short story. But it never went the distance.
There was a lot more to 52 as well, scenes and side stories and little interactions that were lost due to budget or time restrictions. Again, not unique to our show, but agonizing all the same, since what you get is not what we had written, or in some cases even shot.
I'm incredibly proud of the cast and the team, and Daegan did the heaviest lifting while I was off finishing the Crows writing room. But we had a lot more thrown at us.
"How long was the sizzle reel ready to go but he had to keep it secret?" - Asked by members of the Discord Team
That sizzle reel was put together about four months before the second season dropped.
"I would love to know his perspective on the impact of streaming on storytelling. Would we have had to launch a campaign like this 10-15 years ago for a show like this? What are the main pain points when it comes to streaming models & telling unique, diverse stories?" - asked by fellow fan Acorn_Bri
Streaming is a challenge to serialized storytelling in that it looks at 'content often with a different agenda and uses metrics that can take a creative issue and exacerbate it. Like in broadcast, if viewership and thus ad revenue has slightly declined, the show will need to find a way to make their 22 or 13 episodes on a proportionally smaller budget. What is not done is reduce episode order. But if a streaming series underperforms or doesn't meet expectations, and the streamer doesn't cancel it outright, the go-to budget reduction idea is to reduce episode order for the next season.
When you just have 8 episodes and continue to deal with notes to compress, pace up, or omit for what you'd scripted for a longer season, reducing further to six or four episodes is exhausting.
This happens due to a slide in autonomy from what the showrunner position had been. What the chatter on the picket lines revealed to us is that most showrunners today don't get to see their own show's budget, and thus don't get the freedom to make budgetary decisions that could better protect the story they're telling. More and more, showrunners not at a legacy network aren't the final say or at times even involved in hiring key roles. I don't have any ideas that aren't already in a contract language, I just see how the job on this side has gotten harder and there isn't much of a way for us to make it easier for each other like we could with having writers on set or in post production, because the streaming model has made that impossible.
—
Once again, we would like to give a big thank you to everyone who asked their questions, and an even BIGGER thank you to Eric Heisserer for answering them!
#grishaverse#six of crows#shadow and bone#netflix shadow and bone#sab#netflix#six of crows fandom#soc#saveshadowandbone#soc and ck#grishaverse news#the grisha series#the grisha trilogy#grisha netflix#shadow and bone fandom#shadow and bone netflix#netflix series#netflix shows#eric heisserer#fandom#netflix news#grishaverse fandom#save six of crows#save shadow and bone#renew shadow and bone#greenlight six of crows#no mourners no funerals#third army
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Extra Credit
Professor Erwin Smith x Fem Student Reader
4,092 words - nsfw - minors dni
If there was one thing you were certain of it was that no one was lying when they said college professors were nothing like highschool teachers. Especially in the case of your gorgeous history professor Erwin Smith. Light blue button up struggling to contain him, buttons straining over his built chest and white undershirt peeking out through the gaps.
Everything about him was unbelievably hot, from the way he moved to the way his voice captured the whole room. Many classes you found yourself completely distracted by him, large arms holding textbooks and long fingers pointing at the words he'd written on the board. If it wasn't for his booming voice you'd probably miss more than half of what he was saying. The man really commanded his space, no one could stop themselves from listening to him.
Unfortunately you didn't seem to be retaining enough information, he'd drawn a sad face next to the abysmal grade you'd gotten on his last quiz. You couldn't help but giggle a little at the thought of such a serious man drawing smiley faces on his graded assignments. He'd also jotted down at the bottom of the paper to meet him during his office hours when you had the chance, so you could make up the grade.
Feeling very nervous about speaking one on one with the most beautiful man you've ever seen, you tried your best to seem chill as you waited for him outside his office door. You'd gotten to his office a few minutes early, when you knocked there had been no answer. So you waited. Waiting only made you feel even more nervous though.
"Early, good girl" Erwin smiled as he walked up to you, inside you wanted to scream. Unable to look him in the eye as you greeted him, your vision hit the floor, slowly working up to his face. His slacks were a little too tight and putting his thigh muscles on display, the outline of his manhood made you quickly find something on the floor to look at while he unlocked his door, "come on in, I have a few extra credit options for you."
"Thank you," it came out a mumble as you stepped inside the office, Erwin closing and locking the door behind you made your heart hammer against your chest. There was obviously no dubious reason for him to do that, he probably just didn't want anyone walking in while he worked with you. That's all.
"Please sit, I'll gather the options" he gestured to a chair for you before walking around his desk, rummaging through a drawer before pulling out a folder, "based on your previous work in my class, you'll probably prefer the essay" he said softly, looking over the contents of the folder as he sat down across from you, "but there's also the option to retake the quiz entirely."
"Essay about what?" You watched his hands, they moved so solidly across the papers. Blue veins like raging rivers down his forearms, a simple watch hugging his thick wrist.
"I have a list here" he handed you a paper, seven different essay questions from the last three chapters you'd been working on in class, "pick whichever you'd like. Three pages and due by Monday, please."
You had a busy weekend already, trying to add this paper to the list felt a bit daunting, "maybe it would be easier to retake the quiz" you looked up, the man was loosening his tie as he leaned back in his chair. You felt every hair on your body stand at attention, "I don't have a lot of extra time to work on this" your voice shaking as you placed the paper down on the desk.
"We could do a retake on Tuesday" he leafed through a planner that had been sitting neatly in front of him, "or you could earn the grade another way, today."
Your face heated up, his tone had been completely neutral but it didn't stop your mind from finding the dirtiest option imaginable. You stared at him for a moment, Erwin still looking through his planner. There was no way your hot professor was actually propositioning you for sex for a better grade. That had to just be your mind going wild with ridiculous fantasies.
"Unless you're busy today as well" he closed the planner and looked back at you, though his voice was normal his eyes weren't. Lust and desire swimming in pools of blue, slowly being eaten up by his pupils. Your face was going red, still trying to rationalize that this wasn't actually happening.
"Do you want me to take the quiz again now?" You asked quietly, worried if you spoke any louder you wouldn't be able to keep the words steady. A chuckle escaped him as he pulled at his tie again, this time fully removing it before tossing it on his desk. Your mouth watered as he undid his top two buttons, a lazy smile on his lips.
"Sorry I'm all out of copies at the moment, I was thinking my lesson must not have stuck with you well enough. I'm willing to use this time now to go over the chapters" Erwin spoke slowly, deep voice rather quiet compared to how loudly he spoke in class. You tried to inconspicuously wipe your sweaty hands off on your leggings, feeling extra stupid for thinking he'd meant anything other than something actually educational.
"Yeah, I don't have any other classes for today" you tried to relax, pleased to be getting some extra attention from your professor but still nervous as all hell.
"Wonderful," he smiled before sitting up straight. You watched as he gathered up some papers from the lessons, "now," he cleared his throat and pushed back on his chair away from the desk, "come here" Erwin gestured to the space between him and the desk. Puzzled you slowly stood up, face going hot again as you saw him eye you from head to toe then back up again.
"Should I take the chair?" You asked nervously, he shook his head no and you slowly walked around the solid wooden desk, standing awkwardly in front of him you couldn't find the strength to look at his face.
"On your knees" a gruff whisper that you weren't sure actually escaped him or if your mind was playing twisted tricks on you.
"Pardon?" You looked at him, his bottom lip between his teeth as he sat back in his desk chair. Erwin's eyes were still slowly tracing your body, one hand resting on his strong thigh while the other was gently touching the growing tent in his slacks.
"Get down on your knees" he said louder this time, eyes meeting yours. Your head spun for a moment, either you were having the most vivid amazing dream of your life or you had died and gone to heaven. There was no way any of it was real. After a few blinks you obeyed, sitting back on your heels and looking up at him with rosy cheeks.
"Like this?" You felt the words leave your lips but you weren't sure any sound actually came out.
"Very good" he cooed, you watched in awe as he undid his belt then pants. The fabric was fighting tooth and nail to keep his erection contained, it relaxed as he freed himself. Big. That's all you could think as you watched him slowly stroke his cock. He cleared his throat before scooting his chair closer to you, "you're going to use your mouth, go nice and slow and listen to me okay?" His words were like honey, cock standing proud a few inches from your face.
"Yes sir" you mumbled before sitting up a bit, getting a better angle to try to fit the monster in your mouth. A pleased sigh passed through his lips as your mouth enveloped the head of his cock.
"Good girl," he purred, one his large hands tangled in your hair. He gently patted your head as you began sucking in as much of him as you could, remembering to move slowly as he asked. A few quiet breaths before he began speaking, "now let's go over the Renaissance" you continued slowly sucking on his cock, one hand keeping your balance on his knee while the other pumped the bottom half of his cock.
Erwin sat still, keeping his reactions to you at a minimum as he spoke. He reassured you every now and then that you were doing a great job, he'd comb his fingers through your hair as he spoke. You still weren't sure this was actually happening.
"You got the section on humanism incorrect as well" he used his free hand to look over your quiz, "do you remember when we went over classical antiquity?" He looked down at you, your eyes met and he shivered. You felt his cock twitch against your tongue, you nodded yes as you continued sucking and looking up into his eyes. Blue completely gone now. He let out a small sigh and hung his head back, enjoying your mouth for a moment before continuing his lesson.
The heat between your thighs was becoming unbearable. You found using the heel of your shoe to rub yourself on was good enough for the moment, but god did you want to put what was in your mouth down there instead. You listened to him speak, his voice sounded so sexy and rough as he went on with his lesson. Every few words his breath was a little shaky, but he still wasn't reacting much. You wondered if he would at all, if he'd let you hear him moan in ecstasy or if he'd be just as serious looking when he finally finished.
"The goal of the Italian Renaissance humanists of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries was the study of the humanities, is the main take away from that section" he said lowly, his hand in your hair moved down until the palm was at the base of your skull, "you've done so well, but I want you take in more" he pushed your head down, forcing more of his length into your mouth. You gagged as the tip entered your throat, "good girl, just like that" he purred.
He kept pushing you down lower for a few more minutes, releasing you to let you breathe. You caught your breath and looked up at him, his hand slowly stroking his dick wet with your spit. You quickly took over, lips back around his girth as he hummed happily.
"You're such an excellent student" he held your head with both hands, "this is the first quiz you haven't passed" he thrust into your mouth, forcing his entire length into your throat making you choke, "just relax, there you go" he grunted as he fucked into your mouth before letting go and letting you take control again, "you can go a little faster, I'm almost done here" Erwin returned his attention to your quiz as tears streamed down your cheeks, throat burning a bit as you swallowed excess spit.
Swallowing around his cock made him moan unexpectedly, his hand over his mouth like he hadn't meant to only made it sexier. You wanted to make him moan more, desperate to make him unravel. The thought this could end with you bent over his desk and fully stuffed with his cock had you rocking your hips against your heel even harder.
"You did well on the art section, so I'll skip that one" his breathing was getting more erratic, but he was holding onto that neutral tone still, "let's go over the technology section now."
You continued bobbing on his cock, taking him until your throat couldn't handle it anymore before popping off the tip. With how much your mouth was watering for him, his cock was dripping with your spit. It was rolling down his shaft and over your hands, a small puddle forming on his boxers covering his balls. God his balls, you wanted to take his pants completely off so you could them. They were big too, you could tell through his underwear.
"Sir?" You interrupted him, breathing heavy as you looked up at him through wet lashes. He chewed his bottom lip and looked down at you, hand still stroking his cock as you figured out how to say your thoughts aloud.
"I want to suck on your balls too" you whispered, struggling to maintain eye contact but knew you wanted to see his reaction to your words. For good reason too, the question certainly riled him up. His eyes went wide for a moment, a smile pulled the corners of his lips up as he mulled over a response.
"Answer a few questions and I'll let you" Erwin exhaled, "what's an arquebus?"
"It's a gun" you answered, hand still stroking his spit covered cock.
"I need more than that for full points" he chuckled.
"It's a musket that was first used by the ottoman empire in the fifteenth century" you said softly, eyes trained in his cock as you watched your hand move up his entire length then back down again.
"Good girl" he smiled, "name another gun, this one from sixteenth century, and I'll let you suck my balls" Erwin purred.
"Um," you thought for a moment while you watched his length in your palm, "the grenade musket?" You looked up at him unsure.
"You're listening so well" he smiled wider, "here," he backed up his chair and stood up kicking off his shoes before fully removing his slacks and boxers. You watched as he folded them neatly and placed them on his desk, his erection drooling precum as he worked. You were right, his balls were large, they bounced against his thigh as he sat back down, "go one" he presented himself to you and you hungrily reveled in your earnings.
Stroking his cock with one hand, you gripped his thigh for balance as you sucked one of his nuts into your mouth. Releasing it with a loud, wet pop before sucking on the other. Erwin gently played with your hair, watching his student diligently suck and lick at his tightening ball sack.
"Just a bit more and then I'll have you answer a couple more questions" his voice was so deep and raspy, "if you get them all right I'll change your grade and I'll give you an extra reward for being such a good student for me today."
Erwin finished the last of his lesson, face flushed and balls twitching for release in your hands. For a few moments he let out low groans as he watched you worshiping his cock, his large hands pushing your hair from your face so he could look into your eyes.
"Good girl, just a little bit more then you have to swallow it all okay?" You nodded in understanding before dedicating yourself to making Erwin cum. Little moans and left his lips, his fingers raking through your hair trembled a bit as he got closer and closer to climax, "yes, just like that" he purred, voice rough and low, "such a good girl" he grunted, hands tightly gripping your hair in fists. He pushed you down as he thrusted up into your throat, thick bitter cum filling your mouth. You looked up at him with wet eyes, swallowing his large load as fast as you could before the excess could spill out.
Erwin caught his breath, hands releasing your hair slowly. Strands that had broken in his tight grip clung to his skin as he leaned back, cock twitching between your lips. A few more spurts filled your mouth again before you finally removed it. Licking your lips you waited to find out what happens next, thrilled beyond belief at the wild sexy ideas rapidly churning in your mind.
"Three questions, then your reward if you get them all correct" he smiled down at you, you nodded your head and waited with baited breath, "we'll just do vocabulary to make things easy, one: humanism."
"A philosophy during the Renaissance that valued human thoughts and ideas. It led to the study of classical writings and art" you answered shakily, your heat desperate for whatever reward was in store for you.
"Good, two: printing press" Erwin ran his fingers through his own hair, watching you look up at him needily.
"A machine for reproducing written material with ink" your thighs trembled below you, you could feel the stick wetness in your panties squishing as you rubbed your legs together.
"Three: indulgence" he chewed his lip, eyes fluttering closed as he waited for your answer.
"A pardon that released someone from punishment for their sins" you whispered out the answer, awaiting the sinful reward you were bound to receive.
"Very good" he stood up, cock half hard smacking against his thigh as he moved his chair, "remove your pants" he said over his shoulder as he pushed the chair against the wall. You did as requested, excited to feel him inside you, "elbows on the desk" he turned to face you as he finished unbuttoning his shirt, letting the cotton button up fall off his shoulders before he tugged off the white undershirt. You stood in awe of him for a moment, drinking in the sight of his beautifully chiseled body.
You turned and pressed your elbows and palms on the desk, feeling a little nervous about his eyes on your exposed holes. You gasped as his large, warm hands gently ran down your ass then thighs. You heard him moving behind you, your eyes squeezed shut as you waited for him to do something. A surprised moan escaped you at the feeling of his tongue dragging over your slit, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit as he began a steady pace for lapping at your soaked cunt.
"Fuck" you breathed out, face pressed against the desk as Erwin earnestly devoured your pussy. He didn't let up as you trembled, his face pushing hard against you as he held your legs open, "oh my god!" You gasped as he inserted a finger, pushing deep inside you as he kept licking and sucking at your folds. He moved his finger inside you steadily faster and faster pulling whines and moans from your lips.
"You taste delicious" he purred, breath hot against your wet skin. He leaned back to watch his finger disappearing inside you before adding a second, making you moan even louder, "quiet down a bit" he chuckled, "the room isn't sound proof" he got back to eating you as you tried, and failed, to keep your voice down. A few more loud moans, muffled a bit by your hands, left you before your pussy began spasming around his fingers just on the edge of climax. He chuckled as he pulled out of you, standing up he pressed the head of his cock against your hole.
"Please Professor Smith" you begged, wiggling your ass impatiently, his strong hand holding your hip as he slowly impaled you, "amazing!" You mewled as his girth stretched you, a low groan left him once he was fully buried in you.
"Ready?" He murmured, leaning down to kiss the back of your neck.
"Yes, please fuck me sir!" You whined and he quickly gave it to you. His hips slamming into you over and over, large balls slapping your clit pulling back strings your arousal each time they swayed away again. Erwin held your waist tightly, gruff moans in the back of your neck as he filled you with his cock.
"I'd love to have some more extra study sessions with you in the future" he purred in your ear as he slowed his hips, feeling your pussy trembling from your first orgasm, "I think it would really benefit you to have more one on one tutoring from me" he slammed in hard and stayed put, "right baby girl?" He kissed down the back of your neck as you whimpered out yes a few times.
Large, hot hands feathered up your stomach under your shirt until he reached your breasts. His mouth still connected to your nape as he kneaded the supple flesh, his hips began slowly moving again. He thrusted slowly, fully to the hilt before pulling almost completely out again. He kept the slow pace for a few minutes as he murmured about how amazing it felt to be inside you. Erwin pulled you up with him as stood up a bit, hands still on your breasts as he fucked up into you.
"Take your shirt off and sit on my desk" he breathed out as he released you. Head fuzzy and legs barely able to hold you up you did as he said, sitting completely bare on his desk Erwin smiled lazily and looked you up and down before standing between your thighs. He pulled your ass to the edge until your pussy hit his cock, "ready?" He smiled, inserting himself before you could even finish saying yes. You wrapped your legs around his hips as he fucked you, your hands holding his biceps as his hands wandered your exposed skin.
"So good, so good!" You whined out, hanging your head back as the second orgasm washed over you. Erwin leaned down to kiss your throat, nipping gently at the skin as his hips slowed down again. He pushed you onto your back, hands squeezing your breasts as he watched his cock push into you.
"I'm close" he whispered, grabbing your legs by the backs of your knees. Erwin pressed your knees to your chest, fucking as deep into you as he possibly could. Moving slowly to feel every inch of your insides as he could as you moaned and whimpered below him, body overheating and mind completely fucked dumb. A few more thrusts and he pushed all the way in, his cock twitching for release as he forced himself not to cum. Slowly he dragged out of you before exploding white ropes on your stomach and chest.
Erwin let go of your legs and opened one of his drawers on the desk, pulling out a tissue box he attempted to clean you off. His hands shaking and eyes struggling to focus, tissues too weak to soak up the mess he'd made.
"I'm sorry, just give me a moment" he mumbled, cock still drooling cum on his leg as he tried to focus. Instead he dropped to his knees and began eating you out again, overstimulation making it impossible to hold back your moaning. He licked up your slit then over your stomach, eating his seed off your skin as he slowly rose to his feet again. He murmured apologies as he licked you all over, getting distracted from the task of getting his cum off you to suck on your nipples.
"Please, professor" you whined, head hung back as he fingered you and sucked on your breasts, "it's too much, I can't handle any more" you whimpered, hands pawing at his muscular back.
"Just a little more" he smiled against your skin, "I'm getting hard again, do you think you can hold out for a little long?" You looked up at him through hazy eyes, Erwin was disheveled in the sexiest way imaginable. The thought that this man was so desperate to get his cock back inside you enough to make your pussy pulse around his fingers.
"I can take it" you watched his eyes fill with delight as he stood up.
"Thank you" he purred, "you're the best student I've ever had" his breath hitched as he pushed his cock back inside your overused hole, his shape still fucked into you he slid in easily. You let your professor have his way with you for another round, this one much shorter than the last. He at least had you suck him as he finished, cumming in your mouth required less cleanup. The two of you spent and panting, sitting on the floor of his office he pulled you into his wide chest, planting sloppy kisses on your cheek.
"Professor Smith?" You swallowed nervously, the reality of it all hitting you.
"Call me Erwin" he purred back, kissing down your neck.
"Now what?" You held back a whine in reaction to his lips on your skin.
"Well," he sat up straight and cleared his throat, "why don't we schedule your extra study sessions for Fridays" he smiled, "you'll be a top student in no time."
#aot fanfiction#erwin smith#erwin smut#erwin smith x reader#erwin has been on my mind lately and I ended up writing this#i wanted him to be a history professor and the only subject i could think about was the renaissance#its up to you to decide if he does this all the time or if you're special#i almost had reader calling him daddy but i went with sir instead because that felt less cringe~
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"Hey Sweetheart" part 4
This is based on the 'Hey Sweetheart' universe and this request :)
The Sinclair brothers x F!child!reader (platonic)
I'm skipping alot of time between these parts because I think it will be easier to write about someone who is closer to my age! But If you send me requests with a "flashback" or a "timeskip" then I will still write them!
IN PART 1 AND 2 READER WAS COUPLE OF MONTHS OLD, IN PART 3 SHE WAS A LITTLE OVER 1 YEAR OLD, IN THIS SHE'S 2 AND HALF YEARS OLD!
Warning: yelling, cursing, kidnapping, slashers, death, reader is a minor (from between a baby and a teenager), orphan child, use of Y/N (tell me of any else)
|last part| |next part|
*again a timeskip*
Lester called Bo later that evening, telling him about a group of tourists, two cars, young adults. Many people but nothing that the brothers hadn't taken care of before... They just need to be separated and surprised...
But, Bo and Vincent had a daughter to take care of, so Bo told his younger brother, Lester, to stay in town to help them and to look after their child.
------------------------------------------
Bo saw his brothers car drive to the town, behind him a car following. The victims had arrived, or at least a part of them. Bo turned from the window, to look at his twin on the floor, playing with their daughter.
Even tho Vincent had claimed the girl at first, Bo fell in love with her and wouldn't let anything or anyone hurt her. Now this large group, was a threat for her. Bo knew that all the three brothers would be needed, that meaning Y/N needs to be left alone... He didn't want to do that, but there wasn't any options. She needed to be safe, hidden away from threat and protected by them.
Bo walked to his daughter and crouched down, next to her. He admired her little drawing, touching her head and complimenting her.
"Hey honey, that's beautiful. Dads gotta go to work now..." He looked down at his daughter and pat her hair. She nodded her head, still focused to drawing. Bo looked at his brother, sitting next to them, they made eye contact. Both of them knew what they needed to do, nodding, they prepared to make sure their little girl was safe.
Bo picked the girl up into his arms, ignoring her protests, and making his way upstairs to her room. Vincent went to the kitchen to get her a water bottle and snacks. She might have to stay there for awhile... Vincent took her favorite toys and the food to upstairs, following Bo. They made it to Y/N's room, sitting her fussing figure down on the bed.
Bo got down on one knee in front of her. "Sweetheart, I need for you to listen to me..."
Getting his young daughters attention, he continued.
"Dad and I need to go to work... Okay? That means you'll be alone... Well leave you some water and food, but the door will be locked, so you'll be safe... I need you to be a good girl and stay here. Okay?" Bo asked sternly but carefully.
"Why do you need to go...? I don't want to be alone..." Y/N asked uncertain. Bo's daughter had amazing patience for a toddler, but he wouldn't be surprised if these news made her shed tears.
Bo looked sadly at his daughter and turned his head to nod at his brother, a signal for him to go on ahead of him.
Y/N watched longingly to her leaving father before returning her gaze to the man in front of her.
"Baby, I need for you to be a good girl, to be on your best behavior, because we will not be here and you need to stay here, safe.." Bo said to the girl sitting in front of him, on her bed, looking at her feet with a sadness in her eyes.
Bo put his arms around her, hugging her. "Hey, hey, hey, it's alright. We'll be right back, here with you. Okay baby?" Bo breaks away from the hug, keeping his arms on her but looking for her gaze.
Y/N lifts her to look at her father, Bo cuddles her cheek with his hand and kisses her forehead. Keeping his face in her hair for a moment, thinking over this decision, but still moves his face away, ready to go help his brothers.
"I love you baby, so much" he tells her with a sweet smile.
"I love you too daddy..." she answers in a whisper.
Bo nods, getting up towards the door. He looks back at her, for the last time, before he turns around, getting out of the room and locking the door from the outside.
Bo hesitated for a moment, he wants to stay, to protect his daughter here. But he continues his way downstairs anyways. Bo puts on a stern face, getting into character. He needed to focus, in order to protect his daughter.
_____________________________
Their actions hadn't... exactly gone as planned.
The night had fallen, making coordination in the town harder for the tourists due to the darkness. But that didn't mean that the Sinclairs had the advantage. When Vincent had attacked the separated group of people, in the House Of Wax, one of the victims had ran away, slipped through his fingers...
Now Bo was in search for this punk, praying that he hadn't found his way up to the house. Vincent made sure that the House Of Wax was filled with nothing but death, while Lester helped Bo with the search.
In the night, sound carried more easily, and that is how Bo became aware of the escaping victims location. The sound of a breaking a window alerted the searching brothers... That fuckin tourist had found their home... Their girl... Bo and Lester quickly picked up speed to a run, closing in on the driveway on the hill.
___________________________
Y/N had fallen in to a light sleep, on her bed, until she was startled to awake by a loud sound from the downstairs.
In the dark room, alone she was scared, longing for her dad's. Y/N turned on the side table light, looking around her room in confusion but a sound of steps towards her room made her focus. She hoped for the return of her fathers, she had a boring night, alone in her room, but now finally she heard something.
The sound of light and uncertain steps made their way along the hallway. Y/N got up from her bed, walking to her room door.
She rattled the nob, until she realized that it had been locked from the outside. Her actions caught the wanderers attention, making their movements come to a quick stop.
"Open!" She yelled in a whine to whoever was outside, in hopes of finally getting out.
In a fast action the person outside was now trying to knock down the door, telling her to stay calm and that he was getting them out of there. His words made her backup in confusion. This wasn't her father...
The fear of a stranger trying to get to her, shot through her body. Y/N froze in her steps, looking at the door that is going to be knocked down any moment now...
She picked up the sound of a door slamming open downstairs. Unfortunately at the same time, the stranger had gotten through...
His gaze found her, and he walked to her fast, picking her up into his arms... She was so confused, this wasn't one of her fathers or her uncle... He murmured her comforting things as she was in distress somehow...
The mans expression turned to fear as the noise from downstairs, made it's way towards them. She hoped to God that this was her father. The footsteps fastened, and the man searched for a escape, with her in his arms.
Her holder rapidly went through the hallway, looking for a way out.
They came to the end of the hallway, she looked over the mans shoulder, seeing her dad coming for them.
"You fucker... Give her back!" Her father yelled to the man, alerting the younger brother to make his way over to them.
Lester quickly found his way next to Bo, seeing the same thing as him. A escapee holding Y/N tightly to his chest...
"Y-You sick fucks... You're keeping a child here?! Don't you dare to hurt her!" The man yelled towards the brothers, in the other end of the hallway.
"GIVE HER BACK YOU MOTHERFUCKER!" Bo yelled with rage.
The startled girl, became to weep.
"DADDY!" She yelled in fear, reaching towards her dad, with tears running down her face.
Bo didn't know what to do... His daughter was in danger, yelling for him.
Unfortunately the man came to a conclusion... This was their daughter in his arms... He had the advantage...
"LET ME GO OR I'LL KILL HER!"
(its late and I promised to post today, so unfortunatly I had to stop this to a cliffhanger. PLEASE SEND REQUESTS AND SUGGESTIONS!!)
#house of wax#house of wax fanfiction#house of wax 2005#bo sinclair#bo sinclair x reader#bo sinclair x child!reader#vincent sinclair#vincent sinclair x reader#vincent sinclair x child!reader#lester sinclair#lester sinclair x reader#lester sinclair x child!reader#adopted reader#angst fic#jake lockley x reader
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Hey, Kuki! I was just wondering if you could do hurt to comfort Zhongli x Fem!Child Reader fic where it’s in the past and Zhongli just found them in the rice patties? Like, he was going on for a daily stroll and he saw the child and decided to take them in? This would give more context before all of your other child fics (since they’re based in the present). I absolutely loved your Rubber Ducky story, it didn’t fail to bring tears to my eyes. Take your time to work on this RQ, or you can ignore it if it’s too much to ask for :)
Hello! I was planning on doing this, but thank you for getting me started on it now! I love getting asked about Papa Zhongli and his little swan! Im going to keep this one GN to keep it in place with the series and make it a little more inclusive for the sake of continuity! Hope that's ok!
Zhongli x Gn! Child Reader| Hurt to comfort.
✄---------------------------------
Zhongli was helping you with cleaning your room and all your old toys you don't play with anymore. Despite being too big for you, you held onto old dolls, little nic-nacks, old colorful drawings, and jewelry. But now was the time for you to get rid of them or to donate them to other little kids in need, as Zhongli reminded you.
Zhongli was a little sad at how much you have grown since being in his care. What, it's been about 6 years now? Yes, you were almost big enough to start your own schooling and ready to have more friends outside of Yaoyao and Qiqi. Zhongli didn't think after 6 years he'd feel a little nostalgia sick about how old you get, despite knowing your mental and physical again will be slightly delayed due to your adeptal traits but still. Papa can't reminisce a little.
Zhongli remembered how small you were, how scared you were when he'd try and leave rooms without you being right beside him the whole time.
"Papa! No Leave! No, leave me! Papa!" Zhongli felt his heart break each time you wailed to Madam Ping about how he left you forever while he went to go about his duties for the Wangsheng Funeral parlor. But the most heartbreaking thing was how he originally found you in Qingce Village.
A little while back, the 77th director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor asked her dutiful consultant, Zhongli to go to Qingce to see about a client as he had fallen ill and due to her ever-bending will and intent, the old man could be their next client.
Zhongli despite thinking HuTao's directions were a bit too offensive and blunt sometimes went up to the village despite wanting to hear more from here. The bickering wasn't an option for the director because somehow she would win.
Zhongli felt the warm sun beat down on his neck as he walked across the old rope bridges around the mountains of Qingce. The ex-Geo Archon always relished in the simple beauty of the simple but quiet village. As he walked, he could hear young children cry out and play near the waterfalls. Older people cleaned through the rice patties, and the sounds of the wind blew through the terrain. The shades of orange, yellow, and green, made it seem this village was in its own world.
Zhongli heard a small rustle in one of the patties beside him, turning his head to look, he felt a small tuff at his pant leg. Looking down he meets large [eye color] eyes looking back up at him in awe. You held a little small doll in your hands, your little fingers had little scratches and nicks on them, possibly from running around in the patties and getting a little dirty.
But Zhongli noticed other things too, like how your hair seemed a little messy, and your face had dirt and mud on it. But your small eyes looked at him with such wonder, so much pure joy. It was adorable.
"Hello, may I ask who are you?"
"Hi..." was all you spoke, you bowed your head a little, courtesy Zhongli noted. When that was the end of the conversation, he began to walk closer to the village chief in search for the elder man he was supposed to be with. You waddled after him, clutching onto his pant leg. At first, Zhongli felt a little bothered by it, seeing as you could get hurt but his patience outsmarted him and he allowed you to cling to him. He even began to walk slower so that your little legs could keep up.
When he finally found the elder woman who was the supposed Chief of the village, he began explaining about his position at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, however, the village chief stopped him and pointed out how he had made a new little friend.
"I see the little one has found you, such a surprise. They never like when adults try to crowd them, maybe because you're a new face around here. Hehe, how cute." Granny Ruoxin mentioned. Zhongli just smiled and patted your head, slightly trying to get a move on for this little house visit. But you still followed him, all the way up the hill to the old house.
The man's name was Mr. Xeui. Director HuTao noted he had some family relations in the harbor, however, his wife died about 6 years before him and his adult children worry about his time. Saying "We think he is too sickly and frail, maybe his spirit will move onwards soon." But Zhongli thought maybe his children haven't spoken to their father since a few years ago, because he seemed more than fine. He even met them on the porch.
Mr. Xeui made some tea, allowing Zhongli to sit with him, Granny Ruoxin left to go attend to something near one of the mills.
"I see little one has become fond of you. They really keep to themselves, such a shame. Their stories are so sweet and full of life, remind me of my youth." Mr. Xeui said. Zhongli took a glance around a few times to look at whom the old man was speaking about.
"I'm sorry I don't quite follow, who are you speaking about? Is someone else here with you? If so, I can put them down on your will if I need so Mr. Xeui." Zhongli had a pen and paper in hand, he also noticed the extra cup of tea sitting beside him.
"Look under the table, good sir." The old man nodded again and chuckled at how flabbergasted Zhongli was. But the old god looked down and saw those same wide eyes staring back at him holding their little doll.
"They can be quite talkative when you let them tell their stories. Some remind me of the feats of the illuminated Adepti. Hehehe." The old man sipped his tea and coughed into his hand, quickly grabbing a handkerchief to clean up the extra blood. He smiled down at you when you popped your head up and waved. He patted the table and encouraged you to have some tea. You sat down beside Zhongli and began to slowly sip your tea, even holding onto Zhongli's gloved hand too.
"It seems little [Name] likes you too Mr. Zhongli."
You lazily drank your tea, and Mr. Xeui and Zhongli carried out their original conversation.
"I know my daughter and son are worried for my being good, sir. However, I want you to know that I am fine for the time of now. I hate to envision my timely demise right now." He glanced at you and how you kicked your feet at the side of the chair.
"It's such a shame, I can't leave them anything when I am gone. I wish I could, my wife would have agreed. Is there a way?" Zhongli recalled the many practices of adoption and the fostering of children but seeing as how ill and old Mr. Xeui was, he sadly couldn't bring up one scenario. "I'm sorry dear friend, but I can't write something in your ordeal unless they are blood related or in the binding of a contract. It would go against the Ministry of Civil Affairs' wishes. Maybe perhaps your daughter could-"
"My daughter says with my age and that child, my time will be due soon Mr Zhongli. I think she is out of the question." Mr. Xeui sadly smiled. Zhongli nodded but felt a tinge of pain in the older gentleman's voice, how could anyone be like that to a child? He knew it wasn't his place but Zhongli wanted to ask what good health Mr. Xeui's daughter thinks her father is in?
No longer bringing the topic up again, Zhongli listened to Mr. Xeui hum with you an old hymn about the Adetpi on Mount. Hulao. He held your small hand in his as he repeated the hymn's words back to you.
"The strength of a thousand men, so strong and the might Rex Lapis, for he will be the dawn of the brave and catcher of the weak.."
Zhongli smiled and joined in too, the darkness of the conversation air was left alone for another time.
By the end of the visit, Zhongli walked back to Liyue harbor to deliver the news to HuTao.
Zhongli would visit the village more often, coming to check on Mr. Xeui and his health while catching up on certain things about his ordeal. Zhongli would spend time with you too, playing games, drinking tea, reading stories to you, and even teaching you fun facts about Qingce village and the rice patties. He adored how your eyes filled with wonder.
Playing simple games such as hide and seek, tag, and finders keepers was enough to bring a smile to anyone around. You played with the other children while Zhongli spoke with Mr. Xeui. He could tell though, that you preferred him alone to play with.
By the fifth visit, it was raining.
This time, Zhongli didn't bear a simple smile instead he had a serious face.
He spoke with Granny Ruoxin, she knew all too well the look on his face. Zhongli simply gave his condolences and asked for a letter to be sent on behalf of Mr. Xeui and his daughter's family to Liyue Harbor. "The director and I will be back shortly to carry out the services required for his ceremony. Please if you can, keep in touch with his daughter and her family throughout this process." Granny Ruoxin nodded but held a sad look in her eyes.
"And what about [name]? The poor child has no one now."
In Zhongli's heart, it cracked. Then broke in twain. She was correct, you now had no one. He didn't even know if you knew what was going on. If anyone explained to you the situation. His mind worried on your behalf as well.
"Where are they? Where is [name]?" Granny Ruoxin showed him to her home, and you sat on the porch holding onto the book Mr. Xeui gave you and your dolls. Sat beside you was your bag, possibly all the belongings you owned or were given. Zhongli could tell you had a few tears on your face. Maybe it was the rain, but he didn't want to believe so naively.
He stepped closer to you, crouching down to your eye level, Zhongli asked. "[name]? Hello, sweet thing, what happened?" His voice was gentle. No tone of force or malicious.
You didn't speak, you shook your head and sniffled. Your tears made Zhongli's heart sink deeper into his chest. He opened his arms and brought you close as your sniffles turned into soft cries and wails. Granny Ruoxin shook her head and patted your head, soothing you too. She apologized, and so did Zhongli.
"I am so sorry little one, I'm sorry."
The rest was a blur for Zhongli. The ceremony happened within the course of a few weeks, Granny Ruoxin put you in her care for a short period, even asking the Ministry of Civil Affairs if you could be placed with someone. However, she heard no reply. Director HuTao asked about seeing if she could do anything to help, Mr. Xeui's daughter left and took her father's things with her, but she only left the book he lent you. Noting that she thought it was the last thing you wanted to remember him for. Zhongli wanted to push her into the river for that, but he guessed it had a tone of kindness in it.
When Zhongli came to visit for the last time, she told him of all the things happening but yet no sign of finding your blood relatives or parents. Zhonglie glanced outside the window of her small home, to see you sitting near the waterfall kicking your feet in the water. Holding onto your book and your doll.
Zhongli's soul was eating away at him, he knew if you were put into the Ministry of Affairs care for children, the little light in your eyes would dim further. He couldn't tell how many times he had seen the children of that system turn into the worse of the worse because of so. But he knew Granny Ruoxin couldn't take care of you for fear of what happened to Mr Xeui.
The elder woman could see the turmoil in Zhongli's eyes. She sighed and sipped her tea.
"At this point, you could have the little one huh Mr. Zhongli sir? You are quite young, and seeing as you live in the harbor, you could be quite stable no? [Name] knows of you, and they are comfortable with you. Why not?"
"I don't think that would be possible. I have no experience with children or childcare. I think I wouldn't do so well in such a category."
Granny Ruoxin laughed, she shook her head.
"Do you think all parents know what they are doing when they first have children? Of course not, however, experience comes with practice and time. No one is perfect Mr. Zhongli. But for the sake of little [name], I don't think you need to be."
Zhongli glanced again outside the window, you were hopping in the water now. Granny Ruoxin's words hit him in a soft and tender way. Similar to what Mr. Xeui said to him last.
"Children are gifts to this world, it is up to you if such a gift should be appreciated, no one should be ungrateful for these types of gifts either. Don't you agree Mr. Zhongli?"
Looking back, Zhongli couldn't agree more.
He closed the toy chest that sat in your room took the boxes of old toys to the front of the house and placed them on the table. You were on the floor next to Ganyu and Xiao, coloring and talking about birds and dragons again.
Zhongli knew the moment he took you in as his child, it would never be seen as a regret. He knew Mr. Xeui would be smiling down at him on your behalf. Sure it took some time for him to get some things right, like setting rules and playing mean Papa but it was all worth it for you.
And look at your family now, originally with no one but the waters of Qingce, now you have family all over. In the circle of the Adepti, all the way to the ruling Qixing. He couldn't help was chuckle at how you wave to everyone in the harbor now, smiling and saying "Hello!".
How he smiles when your friends greet you and hug you, even when you show Qiqi your books and remind her you all are best friends. Madam Ping when she holds your hand as you dance in the harbor and get groceries.
And of course, he relishes how when you visit Qingce, you hurriedly run to visit your "Second Granny" Granny Ruoxin. She is more than delighted to hug you and ask you how your days are.
Zhongli accepted the greatest gift he could have now that he was no longer the Geo Archon, and that was you.
You truly were the greatest gift, even from when it was just the two of you, to every night you ate dinner with your family. No matter how busy, a family dinner is every night.
Zhongli was happy, you were his family.
And he was yours too, your Papa.
Tags: @kiiyoooo
(Sorry this took forever!)
#xoxokuki#xoxokuki💜#xokuki blog#kuki's writing#xoxo💜#kukiloves💜#xokuki writes#genshin impact#lovekuki💜#zhongli fluff#genshin zhongli#zhongli#genshin impact zhongli#zhongli x reader#genshin impact fic#x child reader#papa zhongli returns
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60. "you're still asking if i feel the same? what do you think that kiss meant?"
Thanks for the prompt @wistfulweaverwoman
From this prompt list.
In-Panem, Post-Mockingjay
From the moment the day's thunderstorms began (so common in the summer months, they did nothing to help Katniss differentiate her Mondays from her Thursdays or any other day of the week, something a burned-out Mockingjay could have used some assistance with), it was already one hell of a day. The kind of day where everything felt dark and empty, and she wanted Peeta's company from the word go.
That was until realizing with each passing hour the day might have been best spent alone.
Not that she wanted to be alone. Never that. On her better days, Katniss could convince herself that he still cared about her and could someday love her again.
On the days like today, when the inside of her head wouldn't shut up and give her a damn break for one second, she couldn't persuade herself he did. Peeta was already getting tired of her, she knew, tired of spending his time with this shell of the person she used to be.
But Peeta was nothing if he wasn't loyal.
"Why are you still here?" she asked him that evening. She wouldn't look his way, her eyes dry and sore from hours spent staring at nothing between bouts of crying. It would have been safer alone with her muddled thoughts, not apt to say things that could drive him away. But she'd come up against a wall inside her head and it refused to give until she asked the question.
"Why am I here, in Twelve?" He asked. He was sprawled out on the living room floor with a sketchbook in front of him but hadn't drawn anything in it yet. His arms were folded, chin resting in the crook of one elbow.
Katniss sat, picking at the loose string of a sofa cushion. It took her a few moments to realize he was studying her, waiting for an answer. She looked up; he was frowning at her. "Yeah."
"This is my home," he said slowly as if he were talking to a small child, and the answer was obvious. "Everything I care about is here. How about you? Would you be somewhere else if you had a choice?"
"All I ever wanted was to come home," she said, leaving out the parts about Prim and her mother, who was too sad to acknowledge her older daughter's existence, and Madge and the bombed-out rubble of the district. "But I thought you had more options than me."
"Maybe. None I was interested in," Peeta said. "I've had enough new for the rest of my life, I think. Besides, you're here," he added, "where else would I go?"
Katniss shrugged, staring at the frayed cushion string. A tense moment passed until he sighed, got up off the floor, and joined her on the couch. He said her name to get her to look at him. When she met his eyes, he smiled and brushed the stray strands of hair away from her face. She blinked slowly; she felt herself trembling. His hands cradled the sides of her face, and he leaned in to kiss her.
It wasn't a passionate kiss, not like it'd been on the beach when desire could have easily overtaken them both, but solid and firm, an "I love you and I'm not going anywhere" kiss.
His lips on hers brought warmth back to her body and a tide of emotions she had to tuck away for later because she was too wrung out to process them. Except for a glimmer of happiness, that feeling was too sharp and bright to ignore.
His eyes were bright when he pulled away. He didn't let her draw away from him, grasping both her hands in his sturdy grip. "You're still asking if I feel the same? What do you think that kiss meant?"
#endlessnightlock writes#everlark fanfiction#everlark drabble#katniss everdeen/peeta mellark#thg#everlark
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Human Shield
[read on ao3][masterlist]Febuwhump prompt: human shield
Darman could smell rain on the wind that gently blew their bedroom curtains. The sun was just beginning to rise, clouds filtering the pink light into cold gray. He buried his face in Etain's hair and took a deep breath.
Characters: RC-1136|Darman Skirata/Etain Tur-Mukan
Wordcount: 876
Darman could smell rain on the wind that gently blew their bedroom curtains. The sun was just beginning to rise, clouds filtering the pink light into cold gray. He buried his face in Etain's hair and took a deep breath.
"Morning." She shifted uncomfortably. Her belly had officially reached massive status, though Darman would cut his leg off before saying it to her face. "Mm. Lemme just…" She flung a sleepy hand in the direction of the window, closing it with her Force powers.
Darman chuckled and kissed the back of her neck. "You could have just asked me to close it, you know."
"Why get up when I can…" She wiggled her fingers.
Darman took another deep breath of her dewberry blonde hair; she insisted it was brown, as though she'd never seen her own hair in the afternoon light. Her shampoo smelled like sunshine and had some sort of cactus he didn't recognize on the front of the bottle. "I like doing things for you."
"I know you do." She struggled to turn over in his arms. "You don't have to wait on me, Dar. You're not subservient to me."
"I absolutely am." He kissed her neck, and ignored the scowl that popped up in favor of gently biting the thin skin over her pulse point. "I'm your riduur. You're carrying my child. I am subservient to you in every way imaginable, and I wouldn't have it any other way."
"You're incorrigible," she grumbled.
He laughed. "And how are you feeling this morning, ner Et'ika?"
Etain looked dolefully down at her giant stomach and sighed. "Enormous."
Darman kept kissing her neck, considering it the smarter option over confirming her opinion. "Do you want a massage?" he mumbled into her skin.
"Maybe later." She caught his hand and guided it to her belly, smiling. "Do you feel your son?"
He nodded, his throat going tight. There was a fluttering pulse under his palm. "He's kicking," Darman said in awe.
"Yeah he is." Etain adjusted herself again and frowned at her big belly. Darman sympathized with her. He'd jumped out of more than one larty hauling more in equipment than what his runt of a wife weighed soaking wet and seven months pregnant.
"He's feisty. Like his mama." Darman kissed her cheek.
"He's a pain in my shebs like his daddy," Etain corrected him.
"Oh, you know I love it when you speak Mando'a, ner cyar'ika." Darman said, nuzzling her neck. He blew a snozzberry in her throat and made her laugh. "Ner jet'ika, ner mesh'lane cyar'ika, gar dinui ner runi mirjahaal. Ni kartay'li gar darasuum."
"I love you too," she sighed, lacing their hands together over her stomach. "I'm sorry, Dar."
"About what?"
"That we never got to do this." She blinked her big, sad green eyes at him. "We deserved this, but we never had it."
"What are you talking about, Et'ika?" Darman sat up, confused.
Etain just looked at him patiently. "You know what I'm talking about."
"I…" Darman couldn't draw a full breath.
"It's not your fault. You did nothing wrong, my love."
"I…" Not my girl! Not my girl!
"Hey." Etain pulled his face close, pressed their foreheads together. "It was my fault. I've been using a lightsaber since I was four years old. I knew better than to try and stop one with my body."
"Then why did you?" Darman whispered, shaking. "What were you thinking?"
"I wasn't." She laughed softly. "I wasn't thinking, Dar. I acted on instinct and made a stupid, stupid mistake that cost me my life. I'm sorry you had to watch."
"I miss you." Darman squeezed his eyes shut. "I miss you so much, Etain. I wish you could see Kad. He's… he's like you. He needs you, but he doesn't have you."
"Lucky for him, he has the best dad in the whole galaxy." She kissed his fingers. "I love you, Dar. I will always love you. Ni kartay'li gar darasuum, ner riduur."
"Etain," Darman said frantically, "Etain, wait—"
"Daddy?"
Darman shot up, instantly awake. He'd never lost that ability, even though it'd been four years since he'd seen active combat. The smell of Etain's shampoo lingered in the air. "Kad?" He held out his arms to the silhouette in the doorway. It was early; the sun had just barely risen, the gray rainclouds above Kyrimorut bleaching the pink dawn into cold gray.
His son dove into his arms eagerly. "You okay, Daddy?" he asked, getting situated.
"Of course, ad'ika. Just a sad dream." Darman fluffed his son's dewberry-blond hair, the same as his mother's. "Let's get some breakfast. Daddy's hungry."
"Was it a mama dream?" Kad didn't seem eager to leave his arms.
Darman sighed. "Yeah. It was a mama dream."
"Well, that's okay then." Kad smiled. "That just means she misses you. That's what she says when I have mama dreams. She comes and sees me 'cause she misses me so much."
Darman didn't want to cry in front of his son, but it was a damn close call. He forced himself to smile instead and threw off the covers. "Come on. Let's make some waffles." He reached up to close the window he'd left cracked the night before and paused.
It was already closed.
Mando'a Translations
riduur: spouse
ner Et'ika: my little Etain
shebs: butt
ner cyar'ika: my sweetheart
ner jet'ika, ner mesh'lane cyar'ika, gar dinui ner runi mirjahaal. ni kartay'li gar darasuum: my little jedi, my most beautiful sweetheart, you give my soul peace. i hold you in my heart forever
ad'ika: child
Taglist: @starwarsficnetwork, @febuwhump, @soliloquy-of-nemo
Divider: @saradika-graphics
#darman skirata#etain tur mukan#febuwhump#febuwhumpday9#my writing#etain deserves better#star wars#fanfiction#repcomm#darman x etain
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Childe, Scaramouche and Kazuha(separately) X Reader where they are somehow forced to kill them in a very uh... dark way which is basically to make it look like suicide, Cut open both their arms and let them bleed out.. and if you want how they would save you after(Like already bleeding but the people forcing them to do it are gone) or react to your death.
I know its fucked up but I just have a thing for angst I'm sorry
One whumpy-angsty fic, coming right up.
TW: Suicide, assisted suicide, swearing in Scara's part, blood, violence, strangulation, errors in writing (hopefully none, but I'm putting this here just to be sure).
A/N: Thank you for my first request. I hope it's to your liking, or at least satisfaction! :>
A/N v. 2: Heitai means 'soldiers' in Japanese. Kazuha's part is worse than the rest, as I don't really feel his character. Also, Childe may be a bit ooc.
Childe
There was no chaos, no state of high alert after Pantalone was found dead. Nothing, besides tense radio silence.
Just hours after you finished your meeting with him the scene was discovered by one of the maids. No mess of documents, broken furniture, or any signs of struggle for that matter. He was found slumped against one of his bookshelves, bright blood soaking the exquisite floorboards. Only a single, precise slice at his throat was discovered, leading to the conclusion that he was assassinated. Yet no signs of forced entry were sighted. His killer must have entered through the front of the headquarters, unbothered by guards, and made their way up to the office itself. They had to leave the same way as well. Either the killer is a master of disguise, or someone from the inside.
You know well who is the culprit. The HQ is aware just as much. If the trail of dead skirmishers and diplomats wasn't obvious enough, the stolen intel considering the Harbinger's current locations sure is. The Eleven know for sure, but making the figure of a lone, masked avenger public would stir up unrest among the common soldiers and citizens.
You saw the soft knock at your door coming from a mile away. But what you didn't expect was your best friend's face in the doorway.
You look up from your paperwork, a sad smile decorating your face. Childe returns the gesture, but it quickly turns back into a slight frown. Before he closes the door, you catch a glimpse of a Fatui agent in full gear behind him.
You stare at each other for a while. The silence between you is somewhat comforting.
"I know why you're here." You say, rising up from your armchair.
He stays quiet, looking away from you. He seems pensive. "I'm sorry."
"It's none of your fault, Ajax." You place a hand on his shoulder. "Fate has decided."
He looks you in the eye. You can clearly see the conflict on his face.
"What are my options?", you ask.
He sighs.
"They gave you two. One, you'll be officially tried for Pantalone's murder. Command will strip your honors, and hang you in a public display. Your family will be sent to a penal colony for assisting a criminal. Or the second choice."
He stretches out his arm. In his open palm lies a transparent container, filled with a white substance.
" What will happen to my family then?" You ask, taking it from his hand. He moves to take it back, but stops himself. You twirl the capsule in your hand, watching the potassium cyanide fly around.
"They will be safe. You will also be buried with full military honors. Officially, they'll say you killed yourself."
You can't hold back a chuckle. The Illusion of choice.
You sit down back at the desk. Breathe in, breathe out. So that's how it feels to be a scapegoat, huh? With one quick move you place the capsule in and bite down. As the foul, bitter taste hits your tongue, you cringe. You have to cover your mouth to keep yourself from throwing up. Childe looks on, unsure of what to do or say. As the poison starts to take effect, your breathing becomes erratic.
You can't draw in a full breath, and that's when the realisation finally hits you.
You are going to die.
Tartaglia rushes to your side when you fail to get up, gasping for air like a fish removed from the water. Your hands fly around, looking for something to hold onto as you hyperventilate.
You are going to die. You are going to die. You are going to die you are going to die you are goingtodieyouaregoingtodie-
"Hey hey hey, hey. Look at me. Please." Childe whispers as your fingers pry into his shoulders, hard enough to draw blood. "Just… J-just listen to my voice, alright?"
You barely hear him. His face blurs in your teary eyes, becoming an unrecognizable mess of pink, red and orange. You manage to nod.
"Tired." That's all you can force out. How pathetic. It's your last coherent thought. You don't fight back the heaviness of your eyelids, letting them close for the final time.
With nothing to control your body, the grip on his shoulder grows weaker and weaker each second. The lungs slow down, soon leaving your chest completely still. In his arms holds you your dearest friend and murderer, Ajax. He feels how limp, how unmoving and just how dead your figure is.
Childe would never cry - he despises weakness after all. But Ajax won't try to stop the tears from staining his cheeks. Nothing matters in his mind as he holds your ever colder body for minutes on end.
His voice comes out shaky and hushed.
"Sleep well, Y/N."
Scaramouche
"So how will it be, Kunikuzushi?"
The Wanderer growls at the puppet in response, looking up at her with pure hatred in his eyes. The soldier presses his boot down on the captive's back, forcing him even lower to the ground. A spear's tip is placed at his throat.
"It's either you both or only them." The Shogun points at you, face forced right against the dirt by another soldier's boot. Scaramouche gives no response, choosing to murder Ei with his hateful look instead. She hums, displeased, motioning to one of her men. He lifts his spear to his shoulder and strikes it down.
"Wait! Wait! I… I'll do it. Just get your filthy hands away from them!"
The spear halts a hair’s breadth from you.His struggles grow more intense and desperate. The mortal soldier fails to keep him down, and Scaramouche returns to kneeling.
"A wise choice." She nods, and her underling moves away. Your throat is unharmed, at least for now. "However, since you dared to keep me waiting, the method is mine to choose."
"YOU FUCKING BITCH!" He suddenly screams, losing his composure. He thrashes around, feeling the familiar, soul crushing type of anger he hasn't felt in years.
"SILENCE!" Ei's commanding tone strikes everything around her like lightning itself. Even her men flinch. In a swift movement, she retrieves the Musou no Hitotachi, and places it millimeters away from your neck. "May I remind you - I can always change my mind, filth."
Scaramouche feels the bindings on his wrists loosen. Two heitai force him to his feet. You too are lifted, but still bound with hands behind your back. Both of you are shoved forward. Your friend keeps his balance, but you land on the wet grass, face first. As you struggle to get back up, a piece of rope is thrown between you and him.
“Proceed.” Ei crosses her arms, and looks on as Kunikuzushi eyes the object. He hesitates for a moment, looking at your bound and defenseless form. With a growl, he picks up the tool, and charges you. After tackling you to the ground, he wraps the rope around your neck and sits you up. Standing behind you, he pulls the rope into your throat.
It bites down into the sensitive skin, closing your airways. The sheer force of the movement makes you gasp in surprise. The pain is growing rapidly. You start kicking up your legs in a desperate attempt to escape his clutches. In response he pulls harder, knuckles becoming white with how hard he grips the hemp. Various moans, gasps and gurgles fall out of your lips, as more and more black spots appear in your vision. The lack of oxygen quickly gets to you, and after just a few seconds of strangulation your consciousness leaves you.
Scaramouche holds the rope down, tears appearing in his eyes. He can’t stand the gargles, the gasps. They make him feel sick. Sick with himself, sick with this entire scenario he got himself into. After a few agonising seconds, your kicking ceases, and your body falls limp on his leg. Kuni keeps strangling you for a while longer, until finally letting you go. Your frame plops down to the ground, still.
Everything around him is quiet. Only Ei’s voice breaks the tension.
“Well done. Now, throw them off the edge.” She motions to a nearby steep bank.
“Why?” is all the man can ask, too weak to bite back once more.
“Prove to me they are dead, my general.”
Without a word, he lifts you up in his arms. He carries you, bridal style, to the rocky edge. As he approaches the brink, he feels you move in his arms. Your chest rises up, and falls down again.
To say Scaramouche was happy would be the understatement of the century.
He stops dead in his tracks, whispering thanks to the gods above, forgetting his disdain for them in the moment. But soon his joy gives way to panic. What now? The Shogun is still watching him, he made a deal, is there a way out of here, what to do?
“What’s the problem, general? Are you having second thoughts about our agreement?”
“N-no.” Scaramouche tries his best to sound as broken as possible. He quickly runs up to the edge, and throws you down.
He stumbles back theatrically, falling to his knees. He doesn’t look back at the soldiers.
“You have made a wise decision indeed, puppet.” Ei says, more to herself than to anybody around. “I demand to see you at the Tenshukaku by nightfall. You will begin your servitude right away.”
Ei turns around to address her followers.
“If any of you are wondering, Y/N has taken their life. Anyone stating otherwise will not live to regret it. Understood?"
“Yes, your Magnificence.” They respond as one.
“Sufficient. Leave him be for now.”
With a flash of lightning, Ei withdraws to her Plane of Euthymia. Scaramouche doesn’t stand up for a good fifteen minutes, looking as heartbroken as he is able to. His head hands low, but a mocking smile is painted on his lips. Idiots.
After rising up to his feet, he makes sure everyone is gone. After confirming that he is alone, he runs back to the cliff. A gust of wind lifts your body up high enough for him to get a hold of you. He gently puts you down. Seeing you open your eyes, he erupts into laughter.
“Stupid whore. You would expect someone of this age and ego to be good at telling the dead from the living, am I right?” His tone is spiteful, as it usually is.
“... I’m fine, thank you for asking.” You reply, coughing. Your windpipe still hurts unforgivably. “You could have eased up on that rope though, Fandango man.”
“Oh you ungrateful little worm!” He turns away, a pout decorating his lips. You chuckle at the sight of his usual assholeness.”It was necessary to do so to fool her. That old crone is not that dumb.”
“Pfft. Sure, shortie.” You move to rise up, but your mind is still hazy from passing out. Scaramouche drops his grudge after seeing you struggle, helping you by slinging your arm around his neck.
“Are you alright now?” He asks, a rare hint of genuine worry in his tone.
“Yeah, I think I am. Oh. Wait.” A sudden hit of nausea leaves your head spinning. “I think I’m gonna puke-”
Scara yelps, quickly rushing behind you. He still holds you, but keeping a reasonable distance now.
“Eek! Just not on me!”
Kazuha
“Nah, that won’t happen, Kazuha.” You sigh, bumping your head against the cold, stone wall. “Do you think they would attempt a rescue mission in the middle of Inazuma City to recover the most well-guarded prisoner in this war?”
Kazuha is fiddling with his clothes, deep in thought. He rubs the uncleaned mud between his fingers, watching it crumple to the ground. “Kokomi has a plan for everything. She must be pre-”
“Listen!” You shout, even though you didn’t mean to. “Kokomi has a plan for everything, yes. But what guarantee do you have for my rescue being included in her scheme? She most likely will take on a new strategy and do a switch of personnel to reduce the impact of me spilling the beans.”
“Will you though?”
“Kazuha. They’re going to torture me until I either tell them what I know or die of my injuries.” You clench your fists. The stories you’ve heard from released captives did nothing to ease your worries. “And I don’t see myself enduring having my kneecaps removed while I’m conscious. Or pouring barrels upon barrels of filthy water down my throat.”
Your friend is silent. He is aware that this will most likely be the case.
“The intel I carry is vital. With it the Shogunate could easily send agents to kill the people I name. They would know what our plan for the next month is, where HQ members live…” You lower your arms to the floor, hands rubbing against the dust and grime of your cell. You absent-mindedly look for anything interesting. It was the third day of being here, and the boredom was getting unbearable.
Your fingers suddenly clutch something cold and hard. You lift it up to your eyes, and squint them to see what it was.
A sharp piece of rock. It must have fallen out of the wall recently. The feeling of your fingers on its sharp edge gives you an idea.
“Hey, look at this.” You show him the piece of debris, and handed it to your cell neighbor. He inspects it slowly, both with his fingers and eyes.
“Yes! We can use this against the guards. If I stab them correctly, that would create an opportunity to escape.” Kazuha smiles, and looks back at you. His expression darkens when he sees your head shake in disagreement.
“That’s not what I was thinking…” You suddenly regret telling him this in the first place.
“You’re joking, right?” He looks at you, practically begging for confirmation.
“No. As I said already, the knowledge in my hands could lose us this war. I can’t let them have it.” You say, taking the rock back by force. You’re lucky he stands right next to the bars separating you. “I have to.”
“No, you don’t, Don’t even try, alright?” His voice is clearly agitated.
He shudders as you put the edge to your wrist. You press down and try to drag it along, but the spiking pain makes you pull back. So you try again, deaf to Kazuha's pleas. After the fifth, you groan in frustration.
"Huh. Looks like I can't really bring myself to do it." You say to yourself, out loud. "I may need your help."
What. It's all Kazuha can think right now.
"Are you seriously asking me to slit your veins?" He asks with disbelief. His attempts at hiding his fear bear no fruit, as his voice comes out as hushed.
You approach the bars, and place your forehead against them.
"Kazuha, my brother. What I know can't get into their hands, else hundreds will suffer. There is no other way. Please."
"They will come for us, eventually. You just have to hold out-"
You sigh.
"Kazu, listen. Until then, if it ever happens, the purples will have the advantage. And I can't allow that. It lies in my duty to protect my people. Please, treat it as your final act of kindness."
He doesn't say anything as you place the makeshift blade in his hands. The white haired male swallows. You stretch your hands into his cell.
"F-fine." He says. "If that's your wish, I'll do it."
After placing the blade on your skin, he pauses.
"I w-will cut now. Be prepared."
And with a decisive movement, the blade splits you open. Bright red blood starts to come out of the wound. You shudder. The stinging is... annoying. Not very painful, but the sight of your own vitality seeping out is enough to make you cringe. Kazuha notices this. Seeing you hurt, especially by him, places tears in his eyes. The second cut earns him a whine from your lips.
You pull back, and so does he.
"Give... give me the rock." You huff out. It feels awkwardly... sleepy.
Kazuha returns it without question, but your arms refuse to clench around it. You back up against the wall you were originally propped up on, sliding down to a sitting position. You place your hands, now bloodied, on the freezing cobble. Your hands hurt to move. You choose to let your eyes close on their own, unwilling to extend the struggle.
"Kazu." You mumble.
"Yes?"
"Talk to me, please." You cough, and the wounds hurt more. You whince. "I don't want to die alone. Please."
"I... Sure. Of course." He pauses, trying to find the right words for small talk with a dying man. "So... what's your favorite... plant?"
He only stopped talking after your corpse fell over.
Only silence was left in the room.
Thank you for reading!
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Hey so, I've been thinking on this since your newest Astarion modern pic. I want to say good job, because while I excitedly reblogged the first 2, this newest one broke me.
First one- amazing. We get the set-up, it's understood. Second one-wonderful- here he is in a few options, including being sassy. Third one- OH NO.
You managed to 100% get Act One Astarion energy. I actually DID NOT care for Astarion in the promos I saw because it pinged me as a put on act. It wasn't until it was confirmed I could relax and go "ah, that's the point".
Seeing that in a modern context breaks me. It's one thing when the fantasy twink elf was enslaved for 200 years. It's another thing to see someone who can exist, wearing bloody nail polish (idk why that gets me so hard) with that story.
Good job. I can't even reblog it, it's that fucking terribly emotional.
Oh, I'm so sorry for the impression my work has left you and hopefully this will comfort you a little bit: in my modern AU setting, star is still a vampire and Cazador is punished severely even more. I didn't strongly connect it with any of the products from the darker side of today's world, like drug control or child abduction, which will also make me sad. So apart from those, what doesn't kill star made him strong and we all know he pulled through all of this. I'll draw more free-vamp Astarion stories in the future, where he'll be sexy for his own pleasure. I promise!
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