#i'm terrified of not having people at arms length and then this happens and i know it's my own fault bc i dont put the effort | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fillinforlater · 10 months

Note

Hello plz feel free to replace my Eunbi ask with a Rose daddy kink feet smut. She has maybe my fave feet for K idol and I dream of the day I can see this smut published. White polish Rose feet stuff, licking, sucking, tasting, feet fucking ofc, and also getting her pussy pounded cumming inside, but also cumming all over her feet. Plot line you can decide. Thanks QT.

The Interview

Male Reader x Roseanne Park

Length: 2188 words

Tags: feet kink, cheating, daddy kink, an interview gone wild, infidelity, fucking feet, feet licking, footjob, masturbation, creampie, hair pulling, cum drinking, rough sex, folding in half

TW: no editing lol

(A/N: the final request of my first request phase back in early 2022. This one is so old, sorry that you had to wait for so long buddy @sooyadelicacies. I hope you enjoy it lol)

"Are you not going to start the interview? Or are you just going to stare at my feet all day?"

"W-well, it's hard to focus, like, your legs are literally pointing down at them. Your sandals barely hide the rosie!"

Rose rolls her eyes. Slender arms folded like a pretzel, she leans back into the beige cushion of her chair, fifteen-hundred, made for her ass and her ass alone. In annoyance she watches her useless boyfriend put the back of his pen on her calves but even a heavy sigh does not stop his advance. In one continuous trail, he drags the pen to her knee before she stops him with a snarky remark.

"Will you stop it? This is important to me. I need your focus on this." She taps the clipboard in his hand, knowing all too well that his horny ass has not written down a single practice question. "Please practice this with me."

"Nah, I'd much rather practice with my cock in your pussie, Rosie~" he responds, face in a smirk so disgustingly self-satisfied at his pathetic attempt at a joke that no one would argue with him looking downright ugly. Rose turns to the side, arms entangled rightly.

"You don't give a fuck about this, hm?" Rose fires back and grips her boyfriend's wrist. "We can fuck afterwards, but not now. I need your help, so please, at least try to act like a journalist."

There he goes again, blank stare focussed on her feet, her face, turning to a smirk as he finds another horny rebuttal:

"I'm no journalist, I'd much rather be an explorer. I could write books about how smooth your legs feel and how tight your pussy is."

"He is a journalist, he can surely write better than you can ever dream off!"

Rose's shout makes the room go quiet. Not that there were more people anywhere near them—but it feels like every atom has stopped moving and only motionless, perfect silence remains. Her boyfriend sinks backwards into the couch, arms folded the same way she has, an eyebrow raised in more than light concern.

"Oh. It's a guy doing the interview?"

"Are you not going to start the interview? Or are you just going to stare at my feet all day?"

You straighten your neck, terrified at Rose’s carelessly spoken words. It was only for a fleeting moment that your eyes caught her bare feet, the way her slender legs seem to point down at them, it was impossible not to look. You could promise her that this was only because she decided not to wear any shoes, which would have explained it, but nonetheless, you are in deep shit.

“Excuse my behavior, please,” you quickly respond, beads of sweat forming at the side of your temple. “I was just spacing out. I know I shouldn’t, but please, forgive me.”

“You’re taking this too seriously,” Rose laughs and leans back into her chair. “Is this your first interview with…”

“With someone of your caliber—yes, though I have never felt nervousness rise in me to the point such a mistake happens. I really am sorry.” You bow your head to the idol, hoping to overplay any and every thought of her thinking that you’re thinking about her feet in all kinds of ways. “Shall we begin?”

You pull out your recording device, ready to hit play and make this the professional question and answer session it was supposed to be, but Rose interjects. God knows what she is thinking when she leans forward, slender fingers right above your thigh, voice husky and deep.

“You want them on your cock, right?”

“What?!”

“You want my feet around your cock, right

“Daddy?”

“E-excuse me?!”

“I can see you drooling.” Rose captures a string of saliva with her thumb, blowing away your coverage behind decency, and spreading it over your dry lips. “I can see the want in your eyes when you look at my feet. Aren’t they pretty?”

“R-Rose, this is highly—”

"Inappropriate?" she asks, a look of brattiness and disappointment on her stunning features as her pointy, purple painted nail pokes your cheek. “Inappropriate, like staring at a lady’s feet while fantasizing about them?”

“I-I told you I’m sorry. A-and I was not fantasizing in the slightest.”

Your explanation ends with a wince. The pointy ends of Rose’s delicate fingers sink into the skin of your neck. You throw your head back. The pain is sharp, severe enough that you want it to end, but your hands still tightly hold onto the clipboard and recording device.

“Now you’re lying, Daddy.” Rose repeats that damn word without care. “Why can’t you admit that you like my feet?”

“Because…” you stammer, trying to escape the idol by sinking deeper into the couch, but Rose gets closer to you. Her face right above yours, her thighs trapping yours, her other hand is right on your—

“Because then I wouldn’t be able to hold back!”

Rose is gone, the small of her back back in her seat, her entire body far away from yours. Her entire body? No. You could never forget about her bare feet, which she raises from the carpet and places them on your piping hot bulge. In an attempt at torture, she giggles while rubbing you in between her tiny toes, curling them, pressing them against the head of your hidden cock.

“What if I don’t want you to hold back?” she whispers and fiddles with the top of her dress.

“Rose, I—”

"Don’t talk, Daddy, just

“Take me.”

Drop these useless devices, there will be no record of what is about to happen. Rose’s last sentence has ended the interview before it even started. If you can’t talk with your mouth, your hands will have to do the talking. Nothing stops you from popping open your dress pants, yanking them down your legs, your bulge the only real(ly massive) obstacle, and getting a hold of Rose’s feet.

She smiles, pale cheeks blushing at your sight and the feeling of your cock on her soles. You adjust them, making a perfect pocket to thrust into, but before you can jerk your hips upwards, Rose has taken the lead with this absolutely dreamy look in her eyes.

“Oh Daddy~” Rose moans and moves her feet up and down your length. “You are so big and girthy. Let me worship you with my feet, pretty please.”

“I-I… you’re already doing it, Rosie,” you hiss, her soft soles feeling incredible, yet you wish for some kind of lubrication for things to go smoothly.

Rose nods, her breathing getting more rapid by the second: “It’s just that I—I can’t hold back anymore. Daddy, I need to make you cover my feet, Daddy!”

Not holding back, not holding back, not—you grab Rose’s left calf and as she still yelps in shock, you put her toes in your mouth. With all manners thrown out of the window, you slobber all over her pretty little foot, spit covering every inch of her spotless skin. Rose starts to moan, her other foot teasing the sensitive underside of your shaft, forcing droplets of clean precum out of the tip.

Done with one foot, you take the other and everything leads up to this vicious cycle of covering one foot in drool while the other massages your member, smearing it with your saliva. You take a second to open your eyes and look at the idol before you. She has melted into the chair, biting the fingers of one hand while the other is rubbing her clothed crotch.

"Take them off," you mindlessly groan, before your tongue twirls around her toes. "Take off your clothes for Daddy."

Rose is eager to nod at you using the uncalled for, yet not unwanted nickname. Her eagerness does not stop there however, as she is quick to get rid of her tight white outfit, the thin strings fly over her head, her skirt travels down her legs. Before they reach her feet, she starts to jerk you off, keeping you hard and horny the few short seconds without stimulation.

"Daddy, please plaster your thick cum on my feet!" Rose moans as she inserts two fingers into her cunt.

"I won't hold back."

Pull her ankles close to you. Rose almost falls off her chair, eyes in surprise, then bliss. She is piercing herself open, her fragile legs weak, fully under her control. She loses her mind, you help her lose it and you lose your mind, she helps you lose it and you lose your train of thought—fuck it, fuck her feet.

"Daddy, y-you really seem to like me feet~"

"Fuck, they are the softest."

Move your hips back and forth, her ankles forth and back, squeeze them tighter around your cock. Watch your tip poke through it, watch Rose's finger move in and out, watch her tongue fall out of her mouth. It's all getting you closer, your breathing is rapid, Rose's too. Is she also—

"Daddy, I'm so~close~" the idol mewls and you thrust faster.

"Finger yourself stupid!" you command. "Watch me paint your feet, fuck!"

Rose's eyes tremble. She can barely focus on your erupting cock as her own sex explodes in a violent, squirting orgasm that leaves her thighs and chair in a messy, wet puddle. A deep, echoing, dumb sounding scream comes from her wide open mouth. She is the opposite of you, quietly relishing in the bliss of a climax that sends strings of cum all over soles, feet, even up to her legs.

Before the tremble of Rose's legs makes your semen fall off of them onto the carpet, you quickly fold her in half. The surprisingly flexible woman now has her cum-covered feet dangling above her delirious, glowing face.

"Open your mouth, baby girl," you whisper and watch Rose instinctively stick out her tongue. Your cum drips from her thin legs and feet straight on her face. Rose licks off whatever she can get in desperate desire, while you poke her exposed labia with your stiff cock.

"How does it taste?" you jokingly ask, ready to penetrate her pristine pussy.

"Is this really the first question to your interview?"

"There was an interview?"

Oh fuck.

"Oh fuck!" Rose vocalizes your inner thought as her pussy engulfs your entire length. You can feel her sensitive walls wrap around you, cling onto you, like she wants to squeeze more of your initial load out of you. No, you first have to get there, but with this incredible tightness and her insanely lewd expression as she swallows your dripping cum, she will have you cumming in no time.

"F-forget the interview," Rose whines. "I'll send you the answers per, per mail."

"No, we'll do the interview. Now," you growl at her, fingers tightly grabbing her small thighs. "You'll answer truthfully, baby girl."

"Hng, I-I can't think!"

"No need to. Just tell me: who fucks you better?"

"Wha—ah!"

Rose screams, laughs when you tickle her feet by spreading the remnants of your first load over her soles. Through all of it you start to thrust slower but harder, the depths of her cunt spread widely by your tip. You watch Rose throw her head back and decide to ask again.

"Who fucks you better, Rose? Your boyfriend or me?"

"You, oh God, you!"

"And who did you wear this white polish for?"

"Y-you, I'm only fucking you."

You ponder for a second, resting a hand on her throat. Rose suddenly has these puppy eyes that lack lewdness but increase your desire to dump a ridiculously large second load in her tight cunt.

"God, you look so breedable," you groan and lean down to her face, strands of rose-gold hair not hiding but increasing her stunningness. "But remember: I'm the one fucking you."

"Yes, Daddy." Rose seems to brace for a hard final fucking, but you don't want to give it to her. You feel great, fully inside her small pussy, her juices around you, keeping you wet and warm.

"Final question, Mrs. sluttiest idol:

"Where do you want my seed?"

"I need it in my pussy, Daddy~"

"You need it?"

"Of course, Daddy~ Fill me up!"

A loving thumb crazing her cheek, that's your final showing of mercy. Her ponytail in one hand, clit pinch with the other, you start to jackhammer into Rose's pussy with all the power the word 'Daddy' has given you. You won't be able to keep this up for long, but Rose is already a mess, nothing compared to the powerful idol from before.

She wants to be the little messy nothing on the chair, drilled by a big cock, her painted feet high in the air, her pussy convulsing. That's the way she wants to milk you, get your seed, and with a final thrust (and final, very harsh pull on her hair) you start to cum inside her.

"So warm, Daddy, ah!"

Fuck the interview or Fuck: The Interview? you think as you see you either losing your job or having the most incredible career of anyone in this industry.

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tsukimefuku · 2 months

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old regrets and guilt ridden pasts (2) ꕥ higuruma hiromi

part 1 → this part → part 3 (soon) | mdni!

summary: you get home, only to find that hiromi is there ready to talk after your failed attempt to open up about your past. he intends to confront you on that, among other things.

tags: +18!, non-explicit! sex scenes, implied smut, f!reader, established relationship higuruma x reader, little to no cursing, reader is kind of emotionally stunted, romance, mentions of death, grief, angst, fluff, hurt + comfort (a lot of comfort, this is healing).

wc: 1.8k

notes etc.: heavy spoilers for "sand and snow" readers. this might be the loveliest thing i've written to date. thank you so much @redlikerozez for betaing it 🧡 written to the sound of running up that hill (kate bush) and heart skipped a beat (the xx) - the second one is the song that inspired the main scene. as always, i write flawed characters that can (and will) sometimes be assholes, but they're trying their best.

ꕥ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist for fics listed in chronological order of events

When you came inside your apartment, there were no lights on. However, from the open door to your bedroom, you could see that Hiromi was laying down on your bed, probably fast asleep by this point.

Defeated, you left your things on the table and silently got in the room, stepping inside the bathroom to wash away all the grime and dirt (and hurt) from a godawful day.

'Godawful day' is definitely a good name for having memories of people long gone stirred up and thrown at your face, reviving your grief all over again.

You were still feeling guilty for not having talked to Hiromi about it, unable to not shut him out, yet again.

Why do I keep doing this? I'm such a jerk.

Upon finishing your shower, you came back into the room, and slid yourself into comfortable clothing before laying down beside him. Hiromi had his back turned to you, but he must've felt you on the bed, because he didn't take long to roll himself on the mattress and look at you.

He seemed upset, and with good reason.

"You could have entrusted me with your pain too, you know," Hiromi began, not giving you much time to muster up anything to say. Not even a good night.

You exhaled slowly, trying to collect your thoughts around it all. This day was an absolute rollercoaster of emotions.

"For you to learn my pain, I’d have to explain it, and I just... It is hard to explain exactly what happened and remembering that day," you offered. "Aside from me, Nanami is the only one who also saw it happen."

Hiromi considered what you said for a moment, but you could see the resolute way in which he softly shook his head.

"Still. I can’t fight you every step of the way for you to let me in. I’m your boyfriend."

The word lingered in the atmosphere around you.

He was, in fact, your boyfriend. You had been dating for a while then.

"We’re supposed to share these kinds of things so that we can be there for each other," he stated, a chide with a plead for understanding, while his thumb came up to press softly against your chin.

"I… I know. I’m sorry."

And you were, truly and deeply sorry, for everything. For pushing him into going along with that stupid idea of letting you inside his domain to get rid of your cursed technique temporarily, for retreating back into yourself when things grew dire, and for not letting him in when he expressly asked you to.

"What are you so afraid of?" Hiromi asked, in earnest.

You took some time to think about his question.

What were you so afraid of, after all, that you couldn't let him in — or at least felt like it, many times?

Then, you realized.

"I'm scared that… That you will leave me too," you began, "I'm terrified that I will have opened myself up, all vulnerable and shit, and then for some reason, I'm left alone again. That's a recurring theme in my life."

"My love, in case that ever happens, keeping me at arms length won’t make it hurt any less."

You chuckled bitterly.

"Funny you should say that. I said the same thing earlier today."

Hiromi edged himself closer softly under the covers, approaching you gently.

"It takes one to know one, right?" he offered, in a kind and loving voice.

"I guess it does," you answered with a minute smile on your face.

"So, will you let me in now?" he inquired, holding your gaze. "Please."

You knew he'd surely be aware of at least the gist of the story, due to the evidence inside the envelope he never got to open before you confessed to your brother's "murder".

Still, it was different. He had to hear you say it, tell him the whole story.

So, you inhaled deeply, ready to dive in the murky lake of your past, before proceeding.

"My brother. He was…" considering for a moment, there was no word that could really convey it. Not entirely. You settled for "everything."

A sigh.

"He was… The sun to my moon. My brother was the laughter, the joy, the silly jokes, the shoes thrown around the house, the noise, the annoyance, the smell of curry in the kitchen, the helping hand, the coming home to, no matter how dire things got."

Silence.

"And then, in one night, there was… none of him anymore. Nothing, just his cold dead body laying on the ground."

A moment that felt like ten.

"I… We were twins, and a part of me, I guess… just died with him. I don’t think I’ll ever get it back. So here I am, still living with this hole inside me, where some piece used to be. His piece."

Hiromi stayed quiet for a second, pulling your knuckles kindly against his lips.

"My sun is gone, and I'm drifting, untethered. I…" You took a heavy huff of air inside your lungs. Yet, you were still breathless, the ache weighing on your thorax like a hydraulic press.

"This grief is like a tar pit, and no matter what I do, this faceless monster just keeps sucking me under."

Your last words dropped to the drum of a eulogy, the one you never got to do.

His palm descended lightly on your cheek as the night breeze gently brushed over the window. The room was dark, dimly lit by moonlight and streetlamps bleeding through the curtain, but it became remarkably quiet. Silent.

Cotton filled ears while the world stopped moving for a second, waiting under a muted heartbeat.

One. Two. Three. Four beats.

His gaze softened — rather than darkened — as his lips approached, all pacify, and yearning, and empathy, and commiseration. Upon contact, your eyes fluttered into a deeper dimness, letting your mind drift around, away and back again, as he began his first attempt to tether you.

You may have lost your sun, but you wouldn't keep drifting away, not anymore.

He wouldn't let that happen.

My love…

Yes?

Eyes on me.

One. Two. Three. Four beats.

Okay.

Dexterous hands pulled you back to Earth, drawing you deeper into his orbit when they fit themselves securely and unfaltering against your waist.

Warm digits kneaded over the celestial wanderer drowned in the tar pit of painful remembrance.

Your senses thickened, your pupils grew wider, and your touch found the nape of his neck, seeking the halo of his comfort.

He was always so comfortable.

Just like coming home to.

He felt at home in you, too.

Another kiss. Gentler. Kinder.

The dark against your fluttered-shut eyelids didn't steal you away from him again, though. He had placed himself firmly around you, with an inevitable gravitational pull, all understanding, warm and welcoming, with the soft press of his entire body against yours.

Your senses heightened — you smelled him, touched him, heard him, felt him. The rhythm of his breath, now softly hitched. His chest, up and down, pulsing with longing. His skin, silvery glow under the moonlight.

Hiromi smelled…

Well, he smelled like Hiromi.

The best smell there was.

Earthly bound, finally.

His mouth, teeth, lips, all made their way to slit themselves against the edge of your jaw.

May I?

Please.

One, two, three, four beats.

A sharp exhale leaves your lips as his teeth sink against the softness of your chin, crawling up to your mouth, hot breaths mixing with one another, two stardust clouds melting together.

He bit your bottom lip and let it go, then brushed his own mouth against yours. So feathery. So delicate.

Another kiss.

You lock against each other with little to no exploration — you've walked these paths before. You do so with the soft embrace of familiarity. The velvety reassurance of known lovers.

All to the gravitational beat that surrounded you both.

You grasped each other's hands against your clothes, and gentle as could be, the fabric slowly unraveled itself from your bodies, sliding their delicate way down the floor, forgotten.

Hiromi began nosing his way down your skin, but your hands cupped his jaw, pulling him back.

A pause.

Four heartbeats.

Eyes on me, remember?

A huff, almost a laugh, and the kindest peck.

Okay, my love.

His hand made its way under the duvet, all electric, and liquid, and cold, and hot, pressing the air out of your lungs. He was happy to inhale you in, open-mouthed and muddy, as you hitched and whimpered to his rhythm.

You were quick to fall apart, undoing to him, arching your entire body. Almost losing yourself.

But he pulled you back, the other hand resting over your shoulder blades, remembering you.

Eyes on me.

As you tried descending yourself, he held you back.

This time, it would be all about you.

Gently pulling you under, his thumbs brushed against your shoulders with tenderness. His eyes flickered with trepidation and affection, as your foreheads pressed to one another. Hiromi pushed and sunk slowly into you, hooked nose snuggled beside yours.

To say he was making love to you wouldn’t be wrong, but paled in comparison to this.

He was loving you tenderly, honestly, just so you could take some of that love he poured into you and give it to yourself, filling the gaping hole left behind by an abrupt absence. The forever and always empty seat in the front row of your life.

He pleaded internally, please, may this be enough.

He was loving you so wholeheartedly, giving you all the warmth you offered to most people but yourself, that you could’ve wept — you probably did, the dampening on his cheek brushing against yours made that evident.

"Touch me." Love me.

"Yes." I do. I will.

Hiromi tried, kind and gentle, loving this grief into vanishing, willing it into non-existence.

My love. My whole, entire love.

But he couldn't, it was engraved in black all over your flesh, your bones, and your soul.

Each kiss while he wrapped his arms around you, tucking you underneath him, was an attempt at chipping away on your armor of pain and loss.

As he rocked your hips gently, he imprinted on your skin every inch of affection you needed to soothe yourself, but you were finding it difficult to pick up these pieces and ensemble the puzzle.

You found it hard to let all your guilt go, after all. It was already an old companion of sorts.

Drinking your voice in as you tipped over the fall, he thought for a moment, could I steal her pain away?

He'd do it in a single heartbeat if he could, if only to repay you for saving him after he had gone past the point of no return.

Some days after that, coming back to this moment, you would finally understand other people's shortcomings from a deeply personal and subjective perspective.

It was hard, after all, being forgiven without forgiving yourself.

Tag list (that I keep forgetting, sorry): @yammy-yammy-yama @g-kleran @otomesass

Reblog divider by @benkeibear

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my-castles-crumbling · 2 months

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hey cas! hope youre well!

i saw you wanted microfic prompts so how about a jegulus fic where regulus has just turned up at the potters' despite telling james he wouldnt run away? preferably fluffy rather than angsty though haha

no pressure though! ❤

I LOVE this!

"James...I can't. You know I can't."

The words rang through James's brain constantly, distracting him from every action he tried to complete. He wasn't just worried. He was terrified. To know that Regulus was at that horrible place, with those evil people?

He hadn't slept in days.

He didn't talk about it much. He knew Sirius was worried, too, but he didn't bring it up because he didn't want to make his best friend even more anxious. But really, he was one wrong step away from a complete breakdown.

He settled into bed that night knowing he wouldn't sleep. He tried, really, but he just couldn't close his eyes without picturing Regulus cowering on the ground, Walburga or Orion pointing their wand and screaming at him. If he thought about it too much, the tears came, and he just lay there, crying and cursing, frustrated that he couldn't do anything to protect the vulnerable piece of his heart that currently resided outside of his body.

So he was decidedly awake at 2am when there was a noise outside. A knock at the door.

His heart skipped a beat as he rose, tip-toeing down the stairs to the front door, peering into the peephole to see.

"Reg!" he exclaimed, far too loud for this time of night.

Opening the door, he didn't hesitate to pull the shorter boy in his arms, suppressing a sob of relief as he did so. "What happened? Are you?" he asked as he released his boyfriend and held him at and arm's length, trying to get a better look at him.

"I'm okay," Regulus murmured, looking pale and nervous. "I just...I realized that...I want..." he took a breath and steeled himself. "I want to be here. With you. If you'll still have me." He stared into James's eyes almost defiantly as he said it, like he was daring James to reject him, to let him down like so many others had.

"Love...I've been waiting for you this whole time," James murmured, pulling Regulus into his arms again. "I'm never letting you leave."

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astaroth1357 · 1 year

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My Incredibly Spoiler Heavy Thoughts on Nightbringer

TURN BACK IF YOU HAVE ANY INTEREST IN PLAYING THE GAME AT ALL. I MEAN IT.

Hello. I have completed all 10 lessons on the Normal difficulty. These are my thoughts:

First, a disclaimer. All of this is my opinion. If you feel differently about a character or plot point, that's fine. This is all just as I see it.

Holy hell, I love the setup here so damn much. The Nightbringer story so far is truly more than just a rehash of the OG plot, largely because of all the small stuff that keeps happening in background. Yes, we're befriending the brothers again, but we don't know WHY. Why are we in the past? Who sent us there? What do they want from us, or... what do they want out of somebody else?? 👀 I have to hand it to the writers for coming up with this premise, it's soild. Will they stick the landing...? We'll see.

The New! (Old) Cast

Lucifer:

Whelp, Luci is being colder to us than ever... But far more openly involved with his brothers than we saw previously. You can really tell that this is fresh off of the War and he's just trying his best to keep everybody corralled and (somewhat) comfortable.

He still holds onto his Celestial Realm prejudice against demons, so he doesn't trust MC at all which is an interesting turn on the dynamic from before. As a human, Lucifer saw us as weak and insignificant so he didn't give us much time of day. But as a "demon," and someone more knowledgeable about the Devildom than himself, he has to suck it up and rely on MC even if he wants them to stay away.

By the end of Lesson 10, it's safe to say whatever trust he had in MC is going to be shattered. MC has talked their way out of a lot, but even Dia looks shaken by their abilities this time... I'm curious to see if they can reestablish a relationship with him when he was already keeping them at arms length to start with.

Mammon:

Ah, Mammon... Once simp, forever a simp across time and space. Bless him. I guess he's just doomed to always fall first when it comes to MC. It DOES NOT take long for him to be down bad even if you don't romance him specifically (I would know because I'm trying to stay mono-Levi this go around).

Aside from his tsundere-ness, though, we do get a look into more of his insecurities. I find an interesting pattern developing in him where he just tends to latch onto a person and follow them unfailing. He did that with Lucifer before the Fall, he didn't even think about the consequences before going through with it. You could see him doing much the same with MC. I think it stems from a lack of confidence in himself and his own abilities, constantly relying on others to guide him through big decisions and provide him with validation. Add another poor thing to the list...

Leviathan:

I swear to God, the devs realized that Levi's charm lies in his pathos, so they went out of the way to make him EVEN MORE pathetic than normal. I still love him for it, of course. But seriously, Levi starts out practically afraid of his own shadow when the story starts. It makes sense, Levi would have probably one of the more negative impressions of demons of the seven, having fought them head on. He was a shut in before the War and now he's even more terrified to leave the house, let alone his room... (I can't be the only one who's wondering how the hell Dia's going to look at him and go, "Ah yes! I see Admiral material right there!" right?)

I do like that the writers took the time to show that he's one of the more empathetic brothers, right alongside Asmo and Beel, even if he's bad with people. Levi is quick to sympathize with beings and creatures who don't fit in and it's always very sweet to see. I also guess that Simeon wrote TSL in secret or after the War? You think he would know of it at least having lived so long with the author... Anyway. I digress.

There's a lot of... small things around Levi that I think hint at the inner feelings of the brothers, though (of all seven of them, he has the WORST poker face I swear). I may touch on those in another post because I need time to gather my thoughts on how it all connects there... Anyway, he's still my favorite and I'm going to try to see if there's any truth to this "you get a deeper connection if you stick to one brother" thing. Wish me luck.

Satan:

Okay, load your guns now because I think Satan is the real star of the show here. They're actually pulling way more than the "He's mad because he's seen like Lucifer" card. We're at a point where Satan doesn't even consider himself associated with the brothers AT ALL. That means something and has consequences on the story. He didn't even go with them to check on Beel, despite having enough fire power that he could have probably helped a lot.

Now before someone goes screaming at me that they've devolved him into comic relief, I'd first like to ask what did you think he was going to be? OG Satan told us himself that he used to feel nothing but anger. He's going to be pissed, irrational, and violent. He's Wrath.

What truly they're giving us under all of that is a look into a vulnerable guy who doesn't know anything about the world around him and is trying to pick it up on his own because his brothers can't (and maybe won't) teach him. They keep chaining him up (which I hate btw) and talk about him like he's a beast. But it's partially because they're such terrible communicators that he flies off the handle so often to begin with.

Satan is more alone than really anybody else is the Devildom. His brothers already have all this history together and memories shared during their time as angels, stuff he has no context for and could never experience himself. He's still an outcast among demons for his association with them, despite being a fully fledged demon in his own right, and he doesn't know why he has to be linked to them because he barely knows them anyway. He's taking baby steps to understand the world, but when he goes to his brothers to ask questions they lampshade him for even having clear thoughts. All they see him as is a roaring beast. This version of Satan is fascinating to me. How does he start here and end up the eloquent, emotionally-controlled bookworm with a planet's worth of connections? I gotta know!!

Asmodeus:

They FINALLY started giving Asmo his proper flowers! I still think it could have been more, but he's gotten way more depth than he had before. I know that Asmo part technically involved MC's input the least out of all of the brothers, but I think that was by design.

Asmo is a surprisingly introspective individual under his urge to perform. MC didn't have to give much input because he just didn't need as much. He knows himself very well (unlike some of the others). He's an emotionally intelligent guy who can sort out his own inner problems and remain empathetic enough to want to help his brothers in his own way. I wanted to hear more from this side of Asmo, honestly, but the game seems to make it clear that he's content with his spot of being the family's brightest smile. I hope it makes more appearances as we go on.

Beelzebub:

This one is tricky, because lesson 10 leaves off on a cliffhanger related to Beel... So I think Beel's feelings will have more consequences than the other brothers' on the story. Most of all that we see of Beel is, unfortunately, him being hungry or off being wholesome with Belphie but lesson 10 did give us some eye-openers regardless.

First, apparently if he flies off the handle, Beel is quite the challenge to handle. It takes Dia himself to restrain him, which is pretty insane for the sixthborn in the line-up. It's possible some outside magic is cranking up his power somehow, but we won't know until the next lessons are out.

Secondly, I find it very interesting that Beel's "heart-to-heart" moment with us is being saved for last... It was definitely the most surprising one of the secrets in the teasers (in my opinion). Beel and Belphie are glued to the hip and share everything together so for him to have a secret "not even Belphie" knows is pretty shocking. I hope it's not just that he saved Belphie instead of Lilith since we all already know that. It'd be a pretty cheap pay off to all this buildup... Not that I haven't been disappointed before or anything.

Belphegor:

Similar to Beel, Belphie doesn't get much attention until the end and it isn't much that we haven't heard before, unfortunately. You kind can't blame them, since plumbing out Belphie's inner trauma about the War was the entire climax of the first game. It's nothing we don't already know. That being said, I think there's some more interesting things that are being said about Belphie or left unsaid by the others that I find more fascinating to keep track of.

TLDR, I think there's some weird distancing going on between Belphie and the others. It doesn't seem super apparent, but Levi dropped some weird bombshells early on and I can't help but notice how he just never seems to be without Beel. Those two are close, yeah, but in this game they're practically a unit. I'm pretty sure Belphie is using Beel as a security blanket of sorts. He's also the ONLY one to mention Lilith in any great detail. Unsurprising, but it's worth noting that the others haven't really brought her up despite it (supposedly) starting the War.

Diavolo:

Somebody give this guy a vacation and a raise... So apparently, the brothers were cast down, the old King took one look at them and counted to seven, then conked out. Now our boy has to rule the kingdom. He's... the same really. As far as I can tell. You can really see how much he's taken to the brothers' antics though, which checks out in the other game too.

WAAAY more fascinating to me is apparently there's some kind of body called the House of Lords who think that Dia is too young for the job. What's the House of Lords?? Who are they? Are they like a council or advisory board...? Or is this a UK setup? Is there a Parliamentary board?? I dunno, could just be my Poli Sci talking but I'm now so lost on how the Devildom operates now...

Barbatos:

Oh my God, if there is any character I could live vicariously through, it was Barbs here. For whatever unnamed reason he is NOT having any of Solomon's shit right now and I'm living for it. Setting my delight aside, we don't get to see very much of him and what we do see doesn't really differ from the norm, which only makes his detest all the more shocking.

Through Barbs, we also see just how potent the power of the pacts can be when Solomon summons him and more or less forces him to do as he says. Nothing seems to stop him from retaliating after the fact, as he sent Solomon off who knows where, but seeing that kind of power wielded over a being who's almost unattainable to us is... Well. I feel bad for Asmo.

Simeon:

There's a lot to unpack with Simeon... and a lot of it is in the stuff that goes unsaid. First, I already found it strange that he didn't seem surprised to see Satan in the House. Or if he was, he didn't say it or bother introducing himself which is... telling for a guy like Simeon. He's back to being Luke's minder in front of demons, but I can't help but notice that he doesn't do much to counter Luke's tirades. He only indicates that it's impolite to say them, so he may still harbor the very same feelings.

Simeon and Lucifer have something of a heart to heart together that they never would in the OG title where Simeon admits his biggest regret. It isn't that he didn't follow Lucifer, as we might think, but that he doesn't feel like did enough to reach out to him before he made his decision. Lucifer dispells this, but I think it goes to show that Simeon stands behind his decision to stay and that it was the better option. Lucifer also confront Simeon on why he didn't take a high position (seraph) and instead settled for archangel. It's left open ended what his real motives for that would be, but I suspect that it has something to do with Simeon's troubling streak of going against the grain, even in subtle ways. Or he has too much anger about what happened to accept taking Lucifer's old position.

I found it interesting how easily these two seemed to talk about intimate topics together here where Lucifer barely even acknowledges Simeon's attempts to reach out in the OG story. I wonder what may have happened to sour their relationship so severely...?

Luke:

Luke the Racist Chihuahua returns!! Okay, I'm being a little mean but he's pretty much just self-righteous little kid the whole way through. I will admit, it is a little funny that the person who came up with the nickname was actually Lucifer. I think it's now retconned and confirmed that Luke and the brothers never knew each other before the Fall... though Luke seems to know OF their former selves in some capacity. I could be misinterpreting things though.

The Rat Bastard Solomon:

I swear to God this was me playing through the whole game tied to this guy.

He's lying. A lot. Constantly. And it pisses me off to no end. I was wondering why things he was saying and the stuff he was doing weren't lining up and OF COURSE it's because he's either working his own agenda or being outright deceitful. I hate him so much, y'all, you don't even know...

That aside, as an impartial observer Solomon is pulling a lot of work to support MC and you can TELL how down bad he is for them, which actually has significance for the plot I think. He's keeping them in the dark about something, but considering his feelings I say we can at least be charitable and assume it isn't to hurt them or cause them any suffering... intentionally. He's also as unscrupulous as ever, considering how he ordered a very angry Barbs around and more or less took advantage of a life or death situation to make a pact with Asmo.

So. At the end of the lessons, we're reintroduced to the mysterious Nightbringer. The character who actually sent us back in time at the start of the game. Yeah, it wasn't Barbatos... probably. At least not our reliable neighborhood butler anyway. They seem to be different entities but I THINK they might share some connection....

I have to wonder who disguised MC when they first arrived. The marketing made it seem like it would be Solomon but the marketing has been hit or miss on actual accuracy about the game we're seeing. If it was Solomon, then he had to have known where the MC was before he called. If it was Nightbringer then... well actually. We need to touch on that first.

Nightbringer:

Now, much of this is just me speculating so take things with a grain of salt. Nightbringer's name is blocked out, but it seems like it identified itself to us in the beginning before sending us to the past. It appears like it wants something from Solomon.... to fully corrupt him maybe? And it's using MC as leverage against him.

I suspect that all of the weird stuff that has been happening is tied to its meddling in some way, but to what end is unclear... Sending Levi and MC into TSL, tricking Asmo then trying to feed everyone to a spider, and, likely, whatever is going on with Beel. I can't tell if it's trying to push MC and the brother's closer together, or just making vaguely comical attempts at homicide by fictional characters, spider, and Gluttony incarnate.

The situation with Adam does give us a hint into its nature. It appears to be some kind of dark, trickster being that gives a person what they desire, but never the way they intended. A walking monkey's paw, if you will. Solomon says that Nightbringer made him what he is today, so perhaps he worked under it or is simply under the influence of one its "deals." Their relationship is adversarial, though. When they're speaking, they talk about the two supernatural sides, Angel and Demon, and Nightbringer seems to want to force Solomon to make a choice between them. Lose his humanity, maybe?

I'm not quite willing to say that Nightbringer is a demon just yet, at least not one of the ones we normally encounter. Something about it seems... older. More powerful than that. But we'll have to wait for more info.

My crackpot theory?

Solomon has made a deal with Nightbringer in order to go back in time and do... something. He's after something. Nightbringer agreed, but dragged MC along as collateral for Solomon to get it done within a certain amount of time or makes sure he honors his part of the bargin. Barbatos knows this, either because he is linked to in some way to Nightbringer or saw it happen in the doorway, and is disgusted by his actions but unable to speak about it due to the pact. Or, you know. That's our present Barbie also dragged along for the ride and he's pissed that he's been essentially hijacked and taken away from present Diavolo, but forbidden to speak about it.

#i may do ONE LAST analysis post #over my speculation #and just weird stuff I saw #but after that #it’s back to the normal content #obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me nightbringer #obey me analysis #obey me nightbringer analysis #om spoilers #omn spoilers #obey me spoliers #obey me nb spoilers #obey me nighbringer spoilers

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dontlookatmytmntcollection · 1 year

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First I Love You

Bayverse TMNT × Fem!Reader

This is self indulgent garbage I have made to keep myself distracted.

It varies from Drama to Fluff to Angst and Pre established relationship to a fucking year into being official to Y/N to she/her. No spicy tho. Good luck lol

-Raphael-

It wasn't panic.

It wasn't. He felt excitement. Raphael was bursting with energy. Stomach in knots, head pounding, chest pushing and pulling oxygen as if it was hard.

It wasn't panic. Leo concluded the huddle with a nod. "Let's do this!"

"Turtle power!" The group shouted. Turtle and human alike branched off in different directions.

Raph looked over at you.

"Raph, I-"

"C'mon people, let's go!" Vern called.

Raph didn't know what to do, heart racing and blood surging. Making him jittery. He half-heartly ran after his brothers.

He couldn't help but glance back.

You had taken a step back closer to Vern. You were watching them go, frightened. He understood.

He could die or get taken away- this might be the last he would ever see any of these people ever again. Last time he would ever see you.

"You don't have to do that." You had laughed, smiling as he lifted your couch.

"You're not gonna do it." He teased, watching your dog fetch it's toy happily.

"It's an upper east side candy shop." Raph explained one night. "I know you like sweets."

You gave him the biggest puppy eyes, smile ear-to-ear, holding the snacks to your chest. "You're my hero."

God, had he wanted to kiss you. He almost did one time. Almost spilled his guts when you blinked tiredly up at him. The scales of his arm were imprints along your face. Marks a movie lengths worth in the making. They wouldn't fade for several minutes. It was so cute.

Your hand grabbed his once. Tugging him to the edge of the water, in an effort to show him something. Probably. He couldn't remember. He hid his shyness under the banter. Soaking up the feeling of your hand in his.

Raph couldn't stop thinking about you, anymore. He knew you felt something too. He was more than happy about that.

But it wasn't meant to be. He knew better.

"We can't do this." Raph had whispered two days ago. Pulling his hand away from your fingers. Pulling away from what had almost been a kiss. "It's wrong."

Something numb fell over your expression. Blocking him out. It broke his heart as you pulled your lips tight. Looking down and nodding. "Okay."

Raph had faced impossible odds before. But this was bigger. Scarier. He knew there was a chance he could never make it. A good one if this plan doesn't go well.

No.

He needed to do this.

His feet started to do their own thing.

"Raph?" Donnie called. Confused.

You turned back around, suddenly swallowed up in Raphael's shadow. "Raph, w-"

"I love you."

Her eyes widened, staring up at Raph.

"I'm fucking crazy about you." He whispered, terrified. "I fell in love with you, and I'm sorry I-"

"Raph-"

"You're the best thing to ever happen to me, and I've been wishing I could be the guy you deserve, but I'm not, so...so I just want you to know -"

"I-I love you too." She whispered, rushing forward.

Raph blinked. Relief overwhelming him before he could register what had been said.

"I love you so fucking much." His best friends small hands were quickly on his cheeks; the sensation like lightning on his scales.

It...probably wasn't the best kiss, in hindsight. He had done nothing but stare wide-eyed in disbelief as it happened, was happening, and happened.

She pulled back, her hands petting his face. His hands holding her head too. Her eye contact made his limbs go numb when she whispered, "Just come back to me, okay?"

Just come back to me.

"Uh...Okay."

She choked out a laugh, letting go of his face and pushing at his chest. "Now go get 'em tiger." It made Raph choke and smile back.

"Raph!" Leo shouted.

Ignoring Vern's expression of horror. Raph nodded to himself. "Okay." He said again. "Okay." He sprinted after his brothers on legs he couldn't feel, new energy driving him forward.

-Michelangelo-

You weren't naive.

You knew he wouldn't be accepted by most of your family. You knew that a few individuals might even be dangerous to Mikey and his family.

But the key word was most.

The newest generations, relatives your age, were much more accepting of many things. Within reason.

With your boyfriends...predicament- it took some extra effort on your part to set up a meeting of some kind. A meeting in which both parties had nowhere to go but through the uncomfortable interaction. With no room for reactive actions. No access to immediate exits, phones, or weapons-

Good thing you were dating an actual angle.

Mikey could work a room so easily, it overwhelmed you. He had your siblings charmed within seconds; cracking wise while the first gawking and terrified reactions were water off his shell.

Now, your boyfriends social circle was that much bigger.

One thing led to another. Weeks went by, then months. It's how you two ended up here. You on your siblings couch curled up with a book. Chaos all around you.

"Aaand...boo!" Mikey leapt out from behind the doorway.

"AHHahah!" One of your neices squeeled and ran away, hands covering her face.

"C'mere, you." Mikey growled, his smile just as wide as he dramatically stomped after the four kids, his hands perfect T-rex claws. His shadow easily swallowing them as they hurried away.

"Mikey, you can't eat them!" Your nephew wasn't older than five, but he chased after the giant turtle man as they rounded the couch you were sitting on.

Mikey tackled your nephew to the ground expertly, the boy roaring in delight; getting tickled ferociously.

"Ahhh! Stopp!!" The boy was desperately trying to worm away from your boyfriend. "That hurts!"

Mikey let go, and the boy continued to giggle as he caught his breath, struggling to get up.

"Ya a'right?" Mikey smiled.

"AHHH!" One neice came out of nowhere, pouncing on Mikey's arm.

"Oh NOO!" Mikey cried as he fell expertly over, making the little girl laugh. Your nephew screamed in triumph, jumping on his shoulders.

The other two saw the action, and pounced.

"We gotchu!!"

"Oh no, oh no!!" Mikey whined, struggling carefully for their entertainment as the kids climbed on top of him. He went limp, a gross sound in his thoat.

The kids squeeled, tiny hands slapping him playfully. "We know you're not dead, Mikey!"

He didn't reply.

Your neice shook his shoulder. "My-ee?"

"RAH!" Mikey jolted awake, and they all screamed and scrambled away.

"Get back here!" He called.

The kids scrambled to another room, leaving you and your boyfriend facing each other where he was kneeling on the carpet.

"How are you doing?" Mikey asked, still smiling. He had glitter stickers all over him. And marker ink was all over his shoulder.

Your heart had swelled, closing your throat and misting your eyes. He looked good like this. Happy.

"I love you." You muttered.

Mikey jolted, his eyes blowing wide. "...W-what?"

"I love you." You repeated with a smile, voice breaking.

Mikey's jaw dropped, his hands lifting a little from his knees. "We're- I-I-I love you-"

"UNGUARDD!"

A pool noodle slapped Mikey's head from behind.

You laughed.

-Donatello-

"All done." You whispered.

"Thank you."

You didn't look at him, setting down the needle and blood-soaked fabric.

You and Donnie were sheltered in the lab. Curtain drawn. He sat maskless and blind in his chair. Hands clasped between his spread knees.

He'd been quiet. Avoiding your gaze.

You stared at what would be a new scar on his face. Down his cheek and neck. You mourned the marring of some turtle stripes under his jaw.

Blood was crusted between scales around your messy stitches; and you slowly got to work of gently dabbing it away. One hand on his other cheek to keep him still.

You couldn't handle it alone anymore. Hurt that had weld up in your chest suddenly surged. Your voice began working again.

"Why didn't you tell me?" You whispered.

He didn't answer. But you felt a muscle clench under your fingers.

You bit your lip. Tears welling up at last.

Your proposal that fateful night hadn't been unique. At all. But the offer of another date night was ignored by him completely.

Ghosted. You had gone to April. Worried that something might have happened.

April's number apparently didn't exist anymore. Her face gone from her regular network. Nothing was said about it. As if you had made everything up.

You didn't have any other numbers. You didn't know where to find anyone. You'd begun to accept he had let you go. All of them. Suddenly. But they were gone, none the less.

You were not needed; and Donatello hadn't wanted you.

Then tonight, two hours ago; you'd received a mystery caller. Three times. Leo. Imploring. Needing more hands, because Donnie was down and out for the count. You had never heard the leaders voice like this.

Karai was now dead.

Everyone is home safe.

You felt tears finally spill down your cheeks. You pulled away, sniffing as you scrubbed harshly at your cheeks.

Donnie reacted to the sound as if shot.

"Y/N it wasn't -"

"You didn't tell me." You hissed. "That's all I need to know."

"It's not like that!" Donnie said urgently. "I couldn't -"

"I needed one text. N-not even that, just... something. Anything." You hissed. "I don't even ask for an explanation! Just saying it's unsafe to talk would have been more than enough. Y-you and I even have a safeword-!"

"I couldn't do that!" Donnie said. "They had tracked Splinter and April through our communications. My firewalls should have prevented the Foot from - I didn't - I didn't know, and I couldn't endanger another person I love the same way."

A person I love.

You gasped, chest heaving with built-up sobs. Physical pain struck you at his words. Shock. Denial. Two weeks. Nothing -

"You don't love me!" You choked. Insistant.

Donnie blinked, mouth dropping slightly open as he stared at you wide-eyed.

He took in a shaky breath. "Yes, I do."

You sobbed, squeezing your eyes shut as you scrubbed some tears away. "No, you don't, c'mon." It was the weakest you've ever sounded.

Donnie's hands snagged your elbows. Pulling you to face him so his hands could rest on either side of your head.

"You were in danger." His voice shook. "You were in so much danger - and I'd rather you think I left or was gone than ever - ever, see you hurt. Especially because I was too fucking s-stupid to protect you or my family."

You were silent. Staring at him like he was the last thing left alive.

He bit his lip, wet eyes sparkling with the most conviction you'd ever seen. "I love you so much. You're the best thing to ever happen to me, and I promised myself I would keep you safe, no matter what. If...If I could redo all of this, I wouldn't change anything." His voice broke. "It'll be different from now on, but...the thought of you somewhere out there hating me is better than the thought of you...not being here at all."

You hiccuped, face wet with renewed tears as you pushed forward. Kissing him.

-Leonardo-

Leo hadn't liked you at first. At all, really. Comes with the territory, you thought. You didn't blame him.

The trust built slowly every month. Half a year went by before you could easily call him your friend, and you were good friends.

The problem was that you had started crushing on him. Hard.

One night, Leo had stopped you; rain pouring down as he - very awkwardly...asking you out.

You could tell that he had been terrified. It made your smile that much wider. Because you were terrified too. Over the moon. Finally.

You later found out the guy had actually the corniest, cutest list of dates he had been hoping to take you on. All written in a neat, dorky list in one of his notebooks. When you confronted him - he couldn't meet your eyes he had been so embarrassed.

Leo had been the one to ask if he could kiss you.

You had fallen in love. Not quickly. But you had admitted to yourself - looking up into those pretty blue eyes - that you were crazy in love.

And yet...

Leo still hadn't taken off his mask.

You asked once. "Am I ever going to see you without it?"

"Hell no." He huffed at you while he set your house plant back down.

"Scared I might find out you're a turtle?" You scoffed. "I have some crazy news."

"Nice try, but that kind of show-" Leo reached above you to grab a cup, then pointed it at your smug grin. "Isn't for free. VIP only."

"I'm not a VIP girlfriend?" You were outraged.

The curiosity was always there. But you didn't push. You knew it would happen eventually.

That moment came a week later. When you ran your nails across his scalp.

You quickly did it a second time after his tiny noise of happy surprise. A gentle scratch. Only slight pressure to the green skin.

"What're you doing back there?" Leo twisted, peering up at you from where he sat on the floor infront of you.

You kept at it. Smiling as you switched between scratching and petting his scalp, adding a second hand. "Just touching you. That okay?"

Leo's eyes fluttered before he turned back to the TV. His shell between your knees.

As time passed, Leo's head lowered. His neck weakening. He obviously wasn't watching anymore.

"You okay?" You giggled quietly.

"Mm."

"C'mere." You pat your lap. "Turn around."

Leo did. He paused, facing you. You stared back, smiling before pressing a hard loud kiss to the side of his snout. Pushing his head slightly with its force, making him smile and laugh.

God, you loved that laugh.

Your hands opened and closed dramatically over his form as he slumped his head into your lap, curling up close. You nearly giggled at how large his head was as he rested his cheek on a thigh.

There was one problem....

"Hey," you whispered. "May I move the mask?"

Leo froze.

"I can work with it." You quickly said, cringing. "You're okay."

"No," Leo said. "No, it's okay. Hang on."

Your heart leapt into your throat in surprise. But you bit your lip. You didn't want to scare him as he sat up and used one hand to loosen the knot.

Leo pulled it off swiftly. Never looking at you.

You stared.

You had convinced yourself it wouldn't be a huge deal seeing his face. It was a small mask. How much could it really hide?

Apparently, a lot. You felt your brain adjust to the ridiculous fact that it had been unprepared to have so much green to look at.

Leo moved to lean back down. You stopped him. That's when he looked at you.

Leo's eyes hadn't changed a bit. You realized that they looked even more gorgeous like this.

You're heart squeezed.

You'd been dying to tell him. Now more than ever.

"Hi." You whispered, smiling and petting his cheeks.

"C'mon," Leo winced. "It's not..."

"Tell me it at least feels better off..." the backs of your fingers pet down his cheeks before you pushed your nails along each side of his head. Across his temples and then along his scalp again. "It sure looks better off."

His eyes rolled closed. He pushed further into the contact, a pretty groan slipping out.

He stayed there. Leaned a little bit forward as he sat on the floor. His head being pet and scratched from where you sat in front of him on the couch. You pressed a few kisses across brow and nose when you felt his weight going lax once more.

Then holding his jaw, you pressed your lips firmly against his forehead.

Leo signed.

This was it. Time to tell him. You took a deep breath.

"I love you." Leo whispered.

#tmnt x reader #tmnt scenarios #bayverse tmnt #Leonardo #Raphael #Donatello #michaelangelo #tmnt headcanons #tmnt #my writing #this is disgusting

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everythingne · 3 months

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out of the woods, 5 (ls2)

With clear favoritism boosting all of Ferrari's tactics, Dhanishka makes a difficult decision after a crash causes her to see the true colors of her team. Logan sweeps in to save the day.

series masterlist

warnings/notes: mistreatment of Dhanishka by Ferrari, car accidents with very minor injuries, this chapter was originally twice the length.... i had to cut half of it for next chapter LMAO, wrote this instead of doing my finals !

(ch4) (ch6)

The little room they've shoved us all into for media is more crowded than I want it to be. The Chinese GP was off to a rocky start already, with downpour rains all day on Thursday. I'm looking for Charles, turned in on myself even in the room full of flashing lights as I try to hide from the world. I want nothing to do with media. I know its going to be a shit show, and my stomach churns and knots until I make eye contact with Logan across the room. A weird wave of calm hits me, before its also sprinkled with anixety.

We haven't spoke since he kicked me out.

I swallow my pride and smile at him, and though I note his smile isn't full, he does still return one. I can tell he senses my apprehension as he nods, and he excuses himself from Oscar and Alex's sides to cross the small, cramped room. I manage to slip through a wall of reporters surrounding Max, nearly being shoved aside before I'm grabbed and pulled and into the firm protective hold of Logan. Instinctively, his arm wraps tight around my waist as he brings me to his chest. My hands find his shoulders and slide across in a hug as he leans his head down to whisper,

"You look terrified, Isa." His hand squeezes my waist and leaves the skin tingly, as if he's shocked it with little electrodes hidden in his finger tips. All his lingering touches feel like that, they have since I was seventeen.

"I am." I say back to him as I pull back from the hug just enough for us to look at eachother, "It's first media day after we announced this whole... thing."

Logan nods and then sighs, bringing the hand thats not still clutching my waist up to comb through his hair, "This is probably the worst possible time to bring that up, but I'm sorry for just..."

He trails off and before he can finish, I shake my head softly and give him the tiniest reassuring smile I can muster. He quiets at the soft expression on my face as I bring one hand down from his shoulders to pat his forearm, before squeezing it as I speak,

"No, Logan. I should've told you from the beginning what I wanted. It was wrong of me to string you along like that," and I hesitate before adding, "I don't regret it, if you're scared about that, too."

He seems taken aback by my apology, but before we can say more, we're split apart by media duties. I try to turn back to say something when he grabs my wrist to pull me back to him and from Charles, who turns back with a confused look. Even I'm confused, before I'm laughing as Logan's planting a goodbye kiss on my cheek with a softy murmur of 'keeping up the look.' And no matter how hard I try, I can't find a logical defense for my blush.

So of course, Charles teases me about it, which is caught on nearly every camera in our direction as we're brought to the little media pen this time. Luckily out of the grabbing range of asshole reporters and the people who want a headline.

And the first reporter for me is luckily The Ophelia Piastri.

"Danny..!" She sings, handing me a microphone labeled 'VOGUE' as she steps in, ever so elegantly, next to me.

"Hi, Ophie." I smile, leaning in to give her a tight hug. Luckily during media I didn't have to wear my team uniform, so I had been dressed to the nines in the white and red Ferrari dress-jacket-thing, with the little cape thing on the back. I knew I looked good, which is why I assumed Ophelia had grabbed me before she went off to find Lewis.

"Since we last spoke, quite a bit has happened, but lets talk about this outfit?"

"So, this is Ferrari, of course. I cannot remember the name of the jacket for the life of me. It's a white leather trench coat with a red silk trim, Ferrari's black boots with, of course, the red trim, and a black Ferrari purse. I am completely Ferrari today."

"You look stunning, the red of the Ferrari suits has always looked good on your but this pop? Stunning, brilliant, we love to see it."

Her interview is a bit longer than I'm expecting, mostly because we keep getting off track, and then I'm pulled away and into the mass of the boring, normal interviews.

It's Sky News who comes to be annoying, some reporter I don’t recognize. I glance over to Logan, who is on my left side down a bit in the media pen and find him staring. He looks away quickly and I bite back a laugh as Charles knocks my shoulder with his to keep me paying attention. I miss the reporter introducing himself but don’t miss the way Charles tightens his grip on my wrist.

“Any specific reason you were spotted in London last weekend?” The man asks me, holding the microphone towards me and I shrug with a tiny smile.

“Just making some visits to my friends, is all. I also had some media responsibilities.” I reply calmly and catch Logan’s eye again, this time my look lingers long enough to see him try to mouth something to me before the reporter talking pulls me away again.

“A certain driver seems to have caught your eye, though, are we correct to assume there’s some heat between you and a certain Williams driver?” The man smiles almost predatory and Charles taps the back of my arm to signal me to move back as he eyes the reporter with a confused look. As I fall back, I let a soft laugh tumble out of my lips as I realize it’s fucking Anthony Davis and that’s why both Logan and Charles have stopped to watch.

“Thought my instagram post was pretty clear,” I chime once I find my footing and push my emotions back, “if that hallway stuff you released to press as blackmail against Logan to do that interview with you wasn’t already enough.”

Charles is staring like I’ve just cursed this man out, I think I can hear Lando laughing somewhere off to the side.

“We’re done with you, thanks sir, make sure to tell David I said hi.” I grin forcibly, watching as Anthony’s face grows in anger. Charles steps between us, asking Anthony to leave and I allow myself a reprieve here to look around. Logan gives me a little smile and an appreciative nod, which I return, before I’m being pulled away by PR.

Qualifying brings back Ferrari’s curse.

Charles tires go and he nearly crashes out right before the end and my back wing is broken by the time I’m done. With the challenges we faced, we both do qualify higher than expected which does make me feel a bit better.

After standing and talking about the car and strategy for way too long, I’m let loose to the solstice of my drivers room. The pristine and almost shockingly tidy room is a safe haven as most the chaos of this weekend and I allow myself to relax as I slowly get myself undone from the race.

I change and take my hair out of its now frizzy braid, taking the time to brush it as I stick my head under the sink faucet to wet my hair. I’m wringing it out as I hear a knock on my door.

“Come in!” I call, grabbing a towel to place over my shoulders as the door pops open and I’m greeted with the soon to be Norris’ couple.

I gawk, “How did you both get in here?”

“Charles owed me a favor for all the times I’ve snuck him into Red Bull.” Olivia shrugs as she pops her purse down next to me on the couch, “and Lando doesn’t like me walking the paddocks by myself anymore.”

“That fucking reporter.”

“Don’t.” Olivia points at Lando, who huffs, and she then crosses the room to sit next to me on the couch before Lando can snag the seat. Olivia continues to speak after pausing to sip her drink, “good take down of Anthony today, little debutante."

“Ah. Thank you.” I laugh softly, brushing my hair with the same red brush, eyes glancing over to Lando and Olivia as I try to keep my blush to a minimum. Olivia's soft compliment made my heart skip, as any praise did. It was hard to come by it in this sport and I was honestly happy it was Olivia who was supporting me like this.

“How’re you feeling? You did pretty good for a busted car. I saw how fucked that rear wing was when I was pulling in the pits after Q1.” Lando continues the conversation and I shrug, turning at Olivia's cue so she can start to braid my hair for me. It's weirdly like having my mom or sister do it, I hate how much it makes me miss home.

“It sucks I’m not higher. Wallahi, I'm so tired of this." I complain, rolling my eyes back as I try and keep myself calm. Frustration wouldn't get me anywhere here, "they’ve been harping on me all season about getting back to the level I was at in Bahrain. And they're acting as if every race since, I haven’t had terrible car issues! Sorry you guys fucked up my car!"

"Sounds like Ferrari." Olivia hums, "I think I've heard both Charles and Carlos say this same thing over the years."

"Maybe talk to Charles about it, he'd know Ferrari better than I would." Lando suggests, watching his fiance as she finishes off my braid and then squeezes my shoulders and pulling me back to rest on her chest as she lazily wraps her arms around me. Lando kicking his legs up to rest on my lap as he yawns into the back of his hand.

"I have been, he's been a huge help, but it's still ridiculous." I complain, smushed against Olivia's Red Bull tee as I close my eyes to fight off the stress migraine forming. I complain for a bit longer, Olivia convincing me to talk to Charles about my frustrations once again. But by the time I've gone off to find him, I notice his attention being held by Fred and some of the engineers. Even when I try to get him away, he's continuously pulled back with soft sorry's thrown over his red clad shoulders.

I go to bed that night with a migraine. The next day I nearly crash twice when my tires are too worn but they won't box me, and sulk in my drivers room after due to losing my podium position. Sure, I finished a lucky P9 for my car issues... but I was fighting with Max in P2 when my rear tires decided they hated me.

I ask so many times to be boxed. It’s not the first time they refuse to pull me into the pits, but it’s the most dangerous. I have no grip, I have nothing but prayers and maybe a bit of luck because I don’t crash out.

And when Aakash is not supportive over the radio, maybe I lose my cool, and maybe that’s what causes half the garage to give me the cold shoulder as I get out of the car. I do what’s needed, barely speak, don’t smile, and then retreat to my room with the hope of my anger dissipating.

When my frustrations don't wear off, even after I snag the treadmill to sprint until my legs are jello, I go to try and find Charles for our little private post-race debrief. I need him in this moment like a fish needs water, the debriefs we have been having being the only thing keeping me from losing my mind in Ferrari. I spot him in the garage still, but he's being held captive by the team. They engross themselves in deep plans for his racing, smiling and waving hands in excitement. I notice no one had come to grab me and swallow the sick feeling in my gut.

"What about Dhanishka?" Charles asks, eyes flickering over to meet mine and I feel the pull to enter the conversation until Fred shakes his head and squeezes his golden boys shoulder, saying,

"Dhanishka comes second to you, Charles. You are more important than some girl. We'll use her to help you..."

Fred's voice fades out as I swallow hard, my hands shaking immediately in a mix of rage and embarrassment. How could I have been so stupid?

And when Charles snaps his head up to meet my eyes after a moment, I've already turned to rush down the hall. Tears prick in my eyes at my own stupidity, that I felt like I belonged in this red building. Sure, it was something off hand, maybe he didn't mean it the way he said it, but it was enough to frustrate me to tears.

If I cry one more time before the end of May, someone might get strangled.

I retire to my hotel room early that night. Even when all I wanna do it party, I choose not to join anyone in the festivities, and ignore the mass amounts of messages blowing up my phone asking why I'm not at the after party. I ignore the world, let the sun set into black skies as I stay tucked in my bed--still in my fireproofs. I can't bring myself to move, a mix of anxiety in my gut and genuine pain in my body keeping me in the plush blankets. My parents call to congratulate me, I humor them with a tired smile and blame it on the time zones. I pretend I'm asleep when I see Anya tries to call me twice. I can't lie to her.

I have to ignore her so they think I'm doing fine. I can't worry them about me turning into the monster I had been after Trident again. But that monster claws at the restraints and slowly breaks them.

Hours later, not that I would know the time, someone knocks at my door. I ignore it, even as the muffled voices call for me and ask if I'm alright. I just stay still, tucked up to my chin in blankets, until someone scans a card in the door and begins to let themselves in. I jump, preparing to throw my phone in defense, when it's Danny who pops his head in.

"Just checking to see if you're alive, mini-me." He smiles, opening the door a bit more so from my vantage on the bed, I can see Charles and Logan behind him. I know they all see I'm still wearing everything I had on at the track, and I see remorse in Charles' eyes when he sees my state, but I shake it off.

"I have a bad migraine, but I'm alive." I say, choosing for that to be the reason as to why I was laying in the dark. Not because I felt too tired to get up to turn the light on, or that I felt my seventeen year old rage returning.

"Need anything?" Logan asks, feather soft, before the others can. I hate how I can see him noticing all my soft lines turning hard. I just sit there, then I shrug when I realize they're expecting an answer.

"Just some sleep. I'll see you guys next race weekend." I wave them off, yawning into the back of my hand. Logan steps into the door frame, welcoming himself in. I don't argue as he crosses the room to sit on the edge of my bed, pressing his hand to my temple.

"You're not sick." He murmurs, "just a stress migraine this time, then?"

"You--huh?" I blink and Logan smiles party, a soft blush on his cheeks only illuminated by the light in the hallway.

"You always get migraines when you're stressed or when you've got a fever, Isa." He squeezes my wrist, watching my face carefully, "If you don't feel hot when you have a migraine, it's just stress."

“It’s just… it’s been a rough weekend and I kinda snapped after the race ‘cause this migraine won’t go away.” I lie half now, Logan seems to buy it a bit more as he leans forward and gently pulls some of my stray hairs back behind my ears—settling them how he knows I like it.

“You did really well for all the issues you were having. Can’t beat yourself up over something you can’t control, Danny.” Daniel says from the doorway where he and Charles lean, I squint when I look towards them in the light and see while Danny looks full of concern—Charles looks sick.

“I know. It’s just been a hard adjustment.” I shrug and Logan nods.

“Adjustings a bitch.” he says and I laugh. About twenty minutes later they leave, after Charles runs down to grab a Doordash they force me to order. Logan calls me much later, telling me to sleep so I don’t feel like shit tomorrow.

We talk on the phone for so long he ends up sleeping in the same bed as me, arm wrapped loosely around my waist as my head is tucked in the crook of his neck. It’s safe. It’s definitely not platonic, but it’s safe, and it’s what I need.

So far it's been:

Bahrain, P3,

Saudi, P5,

Australia, P8,

Japan, P4,

China, P7,

and now it's Miami, where I land a solid P10 after Carlos clearly attempts to knock me off the track entirely and runs me into the gravel. I have to fight for my way back up from P20. I'm impressed with the run some of the back drivers give me (especially Haas and Alpine) but I'm frustrated in general with my finish.

Because what could've been more is fucked over when Carlos in P9 swings purposefully wide and damages my front wing.

"It's not fair!" I complain to Charles as I pace the length of my tiny drivers room, "I don't know what he has against me!"

"Isa," Charles sighs, running a hand through his hair, "Be proud of what you did accomplish, a wonderful ten place overtake in only seven or so laps! You did amazing tonight, even with that fuck up!"

"You've been podium every race except for Australia when Oscar beat you and Max." I snip, whipping around so hard my braid whacks the side of my face, "What I would do to be able to get up there... its just annoying some drivers have made it their agenda to get me off the track! Carlos has no reason to nearly knock me off the track multiple times today!"

"Carlos is frustrated Ferrari dropped him for you. He'll pretend to be amicable over at Mercedes but he's fucking miserable." Charles sighs, "Ferrari's been no help either, they've yet to pay him the rest of his contract."

"Well how is that my fault, Charles!" I ask, groaning softly as I bury my head in my hands and come to sit next to him. It's not like I had told Ferrari to pick me, it had been a huge surprise they had. Charles has no answer and I just huff and lean back into the couch's plush surface and hide my face.

"I'm miserable too." I complain into the air, and it's frustrating to admit it. Charles can tell I don't wanna talk about it, so he just pulls me to his side and lets me curl up there. I feel like a child, but I feel safe.

—

Miami proves to be more difficult than I expected.

I had qualified really well, starting in P4 with Max, Charles, and Lando ahead of me. I was holding my own during the race, but Ferrari wasn't clearing me to pass Charles to try and take P2. Which is honestly the least of my worries right now. Aakash has been non-exsistant on the radio today, barely answering as per usual. I was basically using my own strategy at this point, pulling off of tips I had been given by Charles for this track.

And everything is surprisingly going well.

“Woah!” I shout, turning clear of whoever is in the Alpine that’s stuck half off the gravel, I make some sort of contact but not enough to deter me, “Alpine is down on the track, hit him, I think front damage? Rear wing is still locked in DRS.”

“Understood. Possible red flag coming up, use these last seconds to try and secure position.” Aakash says into my headset and I reply back with a soft ‘copy’ as I go to turn normally but for some reason I find that I whip to the side—under steering hard. Luckily, by pure coincidence, it keeps Oscar behind me and secures a place in P3 behind Charles. But the car isn’t driveable in this state, extremely dangerous, and my hands shake as I struggle to press down my radio button while holding the wheel steady.

“My steering is going out!” I curse, trying to stabilize myself—waiting for a red flag or a safety or something. Where the fuck is this safety car for the crash?

“How bad is it?” Aakash asks and I grit my teeth as I pull into the next turn. I curse softly, breaking a bit harder than I need to but managing somehow to keep Oscar behind me. I think he knows to stay back, that something is clearly wrong,

“Terrible, terrible! I can’t fight like this!” I snap, groaning as we move now to a straightaway. Oscar comes to my left and I steer towards, Aakash is calling that the flag is flying and the safety car has been deployed, but my eyes are on Oscar as he tries to maneuver around the other side but I cut him off again—or try to.

I steer too hard, clipping the front of Oscar’s tire on the slick of the still drying Florida rain and spinning out. I feel the gravel as the car spins and then the world rocks when I hit the wall. I can't breathe for a moment, breath caught in my chest as I grip my seatbelts. No one calls over the radio for a moment, and then,

"Dhanishka, is the car okay?"

"Fuck you." Is my reply as I grab my restraints and slowly unclick them. It's agony to move as I take out my steering wheel and pop it on the top of the car, hoisting myself up and nearly buckling back down into the car in pure pain. I manage to get myself out by the time medics arrive, they take me to medical to get checked and it's like I'm not even worried about. No one from Ferrari comes to check on me.

I limp myself back to the paddock, guarded by McLaren employees and followed closely by Lando and Olivia--who is softly scolding the FIA in her phone. Her voice thick in frustration over Ferrari's dismissal of me, her hand on my lower back supporting me as I walk. Once they get me back to Ferrari, Olivia forces her way in to escort me to my drivers room.

"I'm gonna get them fined for this bullshit." Olivia mutters, helping me sit down on my bed. I don't reply as she hands me a change of clothes and then gives me a soft hug, the painkillers slowly kicking in and making my dull pain fade. Once I feel a bit better, I wave her off to go home and she reluctantly does.

And my migraine flares when Aakash knocks, entering my room. He's still got his headphones on, and I bite back about thirty insults as he crosses his arms.

"Feel better?"

"No." I huff, "and your precious car is fine."

"Listen, we're pushing you because we need you to be a better driver." The mechanic looks at me, arms taught over his chest and I wish it was still Ami in charge of my comms.

"I don't understand what you want from me!" I shout in frustration, my hand itching to throw my helmet across the room at him. I’m not violent, I never have been, I don’t understand why I’m so short of breath. It feels like the rage in my belly fights to be fed by all the oxygen in my lungs, my hands shaking as he slam my helmet down and punch the plush surface of my bedding.

“Dhanishka—“ Aakash tries and I whip around, pointing at him and watching his face fill with shock as I finally snap under the pressure of the weekend.

“No, listen to me! [You all love Charles, treat him like your golden child! He coughs and you all run to get medicine, but when I am out there and I am struggling and nearly dying, you do nothing! I fought with a broken wing and a fucked up steering wheel and what help did I get?!]” I snap at him in my mother tongue, watching his face fill with something like horror as I step even closer, “[None of you were there for me! You all went to coddle poor Charlie—he was fine! I was the one who suffered for you! Where is my help? You have all done this the whole season!]”

“[Charles was frustrated—]”

I cut Aakash off, screaming, “[And I nearly killed myself out there because none of you would help! Do you think I wasn’t also frustrated?!]”

“Listen, I—“

“Get the fuck out of my room! I’m not doing media! I’m going the fuck back to my hotel.” I snap and Aakash listens, quickly ducking out of the room. I rip off my suit and throw it in my bag and I get changed into my street clothing, only pausing to touch up my makeup. I pass by Charles coming back from podium with a cold shoulder and shove through the crowd to my car, digging out my keys and getting in. I sit there, hands tight on the wheel for a while, and my fingers start to go numb as I feel like my brain is shutting off and going into autopilot.

I just sit back and watch, like a movie goer, as the world around me fades in my mind.

I come back to my senses sharply, knees digging into the tile as I’m sitting on the floor in the bathroom. I can feel the remenants of a panic attack shaking off my limbs, leaving them staticky. My hands shaking at the slamming at the door to my hotel room.

“Isa!”

There’s only one man who calls me that.

I try to shout that I’m gonna let him in but the words are caught in my throat, and I hear him echo and think I’m going crazy as I whine into the bathroom air. Then I realize I’m clutching my phone tight enough to shatter the screen and Logan’s contact is up—blazing bright into my face.

“Lo…?” I wheeze and I hear him pause mid knock before he shuffles and—

“Isa?” He crackles into the phone screen and I nearly sob at the familiarity of his voice.

“I-Give me a second. I’m coming to the door.” I whisper, slowly raising to my feet and stumbling out into the hall as my senses fight to try and come back to me in full. My hands are numb when I un-deadbolt the door and I barely have enough time to step back after I pop the door open. In a flash, Logan is everything around me, tucking me against his chest, his hand carding through my hair, kicking the door shut behind us and sighing softly.

“Oh, Isa—“ He murmurs into my hair and I feel the numbness snap away in favor of tears as I bury into his grasp and sob. I have cried more since starting F1 than I have in my entire life.

“Oh, Isa, I’m so sorry they’ve turned you into me.” Logan presses his hands to either side of my face, lifting me back so I can look at him. I remember how a week ago I was afraid of loving him, how I was terrified I'd lose him, and yet here he was as stubborn and comforting as always.

"I can't do this Logan." I hiccup, letting him bring me into his arms once more, kisses trailing my forehead as he keeps me locked in tight, "I can't take another day of this comparing bullshit! They hate me, all of them in Ferrari. I don't even know if I still have Charles."

"Charles aactually spoke to me this morning about getting you out of Ferrari." Logan murmurs into my hair and I step back, wiping my face as I blink at him.

"What?"

"Ferrari is using you as a way to push Charles up and he hates it. He was seeing who is staying in what teams for next season. Alex might be moving, Williams might have an open seat, and I might've helped to convince them to write 'Dubey' on it." Logan wipes some tears I missed and smiles, kissing my forehead again and I lean into every soft touch of his, "Obviously, they still need to talk to you, but I can set up that meeting if you need help with that."

When I don't reply with words, but rather the quick press of my red lips to his, his eyes widen in shock and a giggle erupts from the back of my throat.

"Have I ever told you that you're amazing?" I whisper, watching blush peek on his cheeks as he wipes a few more tears from my splotchy face and grins.

"A few times, but I don't mind hearing it over and over again.” he grins.

f1 made a new post!

liked by oscarpiastri, anyadubey, logansargeant, and 697k others...

f1: hours after it was announced that @ scuderiaferrari is being investigated for mistreatment of @ dhanishkadubey, Dubey announced her departure from the team in the next season, citing 'differing opinions' as the reason for the split.

dhanishkadubey: love u tifosi thank u for an incredible rookie year so far <3

logansargeant: 👀

user1: run girl run

user2: that didn't take long.

charlesleclerc: je te souhaite le meilleur pour ton avenir, petite étoile xx

user3: WAIT?? IS SHE CONTRACTED FOR 2025 BC IT DOESNT SAY SHES LEAVING ENTIRELY??

user4: WHO IS TAKING MY POOKIE.

taglist (open, and thank you to those on it now!)

@chasing-liberosis @justsomejess @struggling-with-delia

#f1 fanfic #f1 smau #logan sargeant fic #logan sargeant fanfic #logan sargeant imagine #ls2 fanfiction #ls2 fanfic #ls2 fic

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itsclydebitches · 4 months

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I think I sent an ask like this along time ago? IDK though.

The weird thing about Oz is that it feels like there was stuff they could have brought up if they wanted us to view him in a darker light that they just...dont

Like, that whole thing with Oz conquering the world with Salem and tricking people into worshipping them as gods. Yeah he eventually saw what he was doing was wrong, but that was after he and Salem had 4 kids. So for a long-ass time he was an imperialist god-king

Or the part where he nearly attacked Ruby once she asked Jinn the question.

It just...feels like those are totally things that should be discussed more. But instead they focus on a bunch of other things that are really weird to hold against Oz.

Like why focus on this you have way better things to hold against Oz right there.

That's very possible, anon! I don't know how many unanswered asks are sitting in this inbox now, but it's not a small number...

Totally agree. I think Oz gets criticized to an unfair degree by the canon and fandom alike (no one is shocked to hear this lol) but part of my issue is what he's criticized for, not just the extent. The show tends to take incredibly weird perspectives like, "How dare you give our uncle cool bird powers with no downside" and "How dare you save group members from a deadly airship crash." The fandom takes stances with larger political implications like, "How dare an abused man 'steal' his daughters away from the mother who wants to use them for a magical form of genocide" or issues that fundamentally break the core concept of the show: "How dare you let teenagers fight dangerous battles / How dare you reincarnate - something you have no control over - into a 14yo boy." The show does engage with some of Ozpin's morally complex choices with no easy answers like, "Is it okay to keep secrets if history has shown severe downsides to revealing that information?"... but then the answer the story decides on - "No it's not" - immediately doesn't apply to half the cast, with no examination of how that changes our perception of Ozpin's choice. And, as you say, the show simultaneously introduces HUGE mistakes - "You positioned yourself as a god! Then a king!!"- that the characters could absolutely mistrust him for... but they don't. Because they're too busy focusing on all of the above.

The only thing I'd push back against here is anyone being mad at Ozpin for "nearly attacking" Ruby. I'd consider that a highly unfair criticism as well given that:

We don't know if he would have attacked. He just charges with his and out-stretched, so Ozpin could just as likely have been intending to snatch the Relic

All these characters have aura and train/hit for funsies on a regular basis. It feels like a stretch - one working to paint Ozpin in an unfair light - to act like Ruby taking a hit is suddenly some horrific event that's worthy getting up-in-arms about

In this same scene the girls pull their weapons on Qrow and Oscar - someone WITHOUT that training/fully unlocked aura - gets punched into a tree. Again, consistent morality. Why is Ozpin in the wrong for charging with an open hand (ambiguous) but the girls are justified in pulling their weapons (clear intent)? Why should Super Fighter Ruby be defended for taking a hit after forcibly stealing secrets from Ozpin, but we should shrug off the newbie farm kid taking a hit for the "sin" of being an unwitting, passive vessel?

Plus... as said above, "forcibly stealing secrets." I'm not saying Ozpin is 100% justified in attacking Ruby over this, but I think he's a HELL of a lot more justified compared to actions like threatening Qrow or attacking Oscar. Ruby ignored his requests to give the Relic back; she ignored how terrified he clearly was. She wasted a wish (which Ozpin knew would happen). She revealed his entire, traumatic history to the group PLUS a total stranger (Maria) which, again, Ozpin knew would happen. Of course he tried to stop her. We will never know what lengths he would have gone to, whether he would have truly fought Ruby or just made a last minute grab, but even if he had fought her... It think that's understandable. We can argue about whether it's right, but it's not the sort of thing the heroes should be holding against him once tempers have cooled, especially when he has stuff like playing God that they have hold as a long term grudge.

Out of everything Ozpin has done, maybe being willing to fight the prodigy fighter to keep her from making one of the stupidest decisions we've seen in the show to date is pretty low on the sin list.

#rwde #rwby #mymetas

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lollytea · 8 months

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in regards to that text post you tagged as hunlow followed by "listen to me". i have a chair. i am sitting down. i'm listening if you want to explain.

Waaah I am all jumbled up so this is not gonna be very eloquent but lemme do a little word vomit here.

Anyway. The poem 'Yes & No' by Natalie Wee and the complete huntlow overload it gives me every time I read it.

It works from both their perspectives on how they view the other person. Those parallels do be paralleling. I might blabber about it from Hunter's POV....another day. But because the poem is written by a woman and refers to a 'Him' lets focus on Willow's side of things. It's the side that gives me the most brainrot anyway. I really do love a good subversion. A girl who thinks she is too monstrous for a boy whom she views as too gentle.

I think very often about Willow's relationship with her own powers. The show went somewhat into depth about how being 'Half a Witch' destroyed her confidence. The part of her that could not excel at anything that wasn't plant-centric. There's nothing particularly complex about her feelings of inferiority. It's very easy to understand. She's Mildred Hubble coded.

HOWEVER it's also shown in her debut episode that Willow losing control of her emotions can lead to big destructive outbursts. This is the part that was touched on as a conflict in For the Future, but was never really explored at length.

This ability of hers is extremely dangerous. She can severely hurt both herself and the people around her. Surely, that must be a frightening reality for a little girl to live with.

I wonder when these outbursts first started. I wonder if that incident in the detention pit was the first time her own magic nearly killed her. I wonder if something happened on the day of Amity's birthday party when little Willow felt like she had lost everything. I wonder a lot of things. But mostly I wonder how being like this since she was young has effected Willow's mindset, her behaviour and her complexes. What does she think of herself? Is she afraid of what she's capable of? Is she afraid of her own emotions?

Anyway, with that in mind. Here is the poem. Beat by beat.

reasons to not kiss him:

1. you weren’t raised to love tender.

Willow was born and raised to be a sweet gentle girl with a soft spot for plants. She's silly and lighthearted yet mature for her age and tries to remain rational in irrational situations. She allows hugs from Gus and she allows Luz's touchy affection and cooing over how cute she is.

But by "love tender", I interpret it as Willow not knowing how to love and be loved in a way that puts her in a vulnerable position. The bleeding open wound kind of love. She's already been thrown away once in her life like she's something disposable so she has decided that it will inevitably happen again. Willow has already braced herself for Luz and Gus finding other friends and leaving her behind. She's loved them so sweetly this whole time but she's always been keeping them at arm's length, scared to pour too much of her heart into their hands. She's simply savouring the time she has with them until they drift away.

But Hunter is a different story. There is something about him that demands she love tender. And it's terrifying that she feels the pressure to do so. And it's even more terrifying that she so badly wants to.

2. when he’s around all you do is tremble. when he’s around you want to get on your knees. look how much power he has over you. it’s dangerous.

Willow is a girl who has been carelessly discarded like her feelings meant nothing, made to feel like she was a waste of an existence and who is also deathly afraid of herself and the unstable magical battery pulsing inside of her. This results in having to lock up her more reckless emotions in order to keep everyone safe, but also to protect her own heart. She's gotten good at it. And she's also now perceived as an iron clad witch who cannot be weakened.

But the presence of Hunter reveals something very concerning. She can be weakened. His smile and his voice and his entire disposition is a breach of the barriers she has spent years building. He is capable of puncturing her clean through. And the part that makes her lips tighetn is that he's not even aware of it.

It doesn't sound so foreboding on the surface. So what if he can make her smile until she can't stop smiling? So what if he can make her laugh until she's breathless? But then she'd have to regain herself and realize that as harmless as that is, it's a result of her losing control of her emotions. Which she rarely does anymore. And it's all because of him with his soft eyes and his kind smile and his shy adoration for her.

And if he can do that, he can do far worse to her. That's the scary part.

3. he’s too good at forgiving and you’re too good at violence.

4. you know what they say about monsters. you know what happens to the boys who love them. are you going to do that to him?

5. your hands don’t know how to be gentle. think about the last beautiful thing that shattered in your palms. the fresh rosebuds crumbling between your fingers like a bruise. you wolf-boy, you war machine. you wouldn’t know how to hold something magic and not destroy it.

Willow is not stupid. She's not unobservant. Hunter did not need to stay a word for her to realize that he is a boy who has been wronged by someone who he loved with his whole aching heart. He has been hurt in a way that will leave his heart aching forever and ever.

But it's a sharp sting to know that in spite of that, he continues to fall deeply in love with every person who shows him compassion. Nothing can burn out his warm glow. He loves and he loves until he's sick with the stuff. And Willow doesn't know how he does it, but his glow is so nice to graze in. Once you get too close to him, you don't want to leave.

When Willow hugs him, his fingers tentatively twist into the sleeves of her cardigan. She sees how he looks at her and she knows he'd like nothing more than to squeeze her tight and drown in her.

He's in love with Willow the way he's in love with everything and she desperately wants to give him everything.

She wants to place her hands on his cheeks and watch as she melts into her palms, finally satiated after all he had been starving for.

She wants to fall in love with him.

But she can't. Because she knows he'd fall in love with her too.

And then eventually, she would hurt him. Like he had been hurt before.

She can't trust herself to not hurt him.

And in the aftermath of the hurt, she would cry herself hoarse with ragged apologies.

And because she was kind and because he knows she didn't mean to hurt him, he would squeeze her tight and say "It's okay."

Then she'd hurt him again.

"It's okay."

And again.

"It's okay."

A painful cycle that spins until there's barely of him left.

And Willow is scared that by that point that she'll be too weak for his soft eyes to ever let him go.

She doesn't know what will become of her.

She doesn't want to find out.

So to stay on the safe side, they will never begin.

6. if you hurt him it might kill you

7. if you hurt him you might kill yourself.

8. you are very bad at rehabilitation. this is one addiction you’d fail to give up. he’s going to ruin you for all other kisses and all other boys and you’ll spend the rest of your life trying to forget his name.

Willow has analyzed the situation and she's come to the conclusion that if she allowed this sweet boy entry to her briar n' bramble guarded heart, they'd bend to his will, clearing a path to the delicate structure. And once he holds it in his hands, he'll leave his fingerprints all over it.

This is the damage she's talking about.

The damage he can do to her.

9. you still aren’t sure he isn’t a dream.

10. if you kiss him, you might wake up.

You would think, with all this lamenting Willow does over Hunter's existence, that he's making her miserable.

Far from it.

She's reluctant to admit it, even to herself, but she's already addicted to whatever it is that he's emanating. Like a flower stretching towards the sunlight.

Sometimes he doesn't feel feel.

Typical of an overthinker to not believe that could be as wonderful as it seems.

In an ideal world, they could both make each other happy.

If she doesn't ruin everything.

Mistletoe kisses. Parasitic in nature.

What if she leeches all the light left in him?

What if a kiss is her wakeup call?

reasons to kiss him:

1. because he’s beautiful.

He's so beautiful.

2. because he asked.

He's begging. He's begging every time he looks at her. He certainly doesn't mean to. Nor does he know that he's doing it. But somehow, without saying a word, he has crumbled to his knees begging for her to pour of a little of her heart into his lips to warm his blood.

He wants her to love tender and be loved raw. And he wants to do the same.

And if she said no, he would simply reply "that's okay."

But she doesn't want to say no.

She wants to give him everything.

That's the problem.

And even worse....she is pretty sure she is about to crack.

She will give him everything.

Because...

3. because he preceded please with, i’m not afraid of you.

#huntlow #man...#sorry im kinda unwell about them

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monstercampus · 7 months

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Ellie help I have werewolf brain rot and Kirk has been living in my mind rent free the past few nights 😩 please tell me more about him, does he have a secret soft side or is being mean his love language and you know he cares about you if he's giving you a hard time? Why does he live in a dorm by himself? Where is he on the possessive scale? Honestly just tell me everything you know about him so I can simp to the best of my ability 🥺😫🙏

And actually while I'm here, anything about Elliott or Julian would also be tasty 👀👀👀 forgive me for the werewolf team fic altered my brain chemistry and I may never be the same

absolutely !! !!!!! i am at your mercy uwu <33 (this is mostly stream of consciousness so if u want more i am READY)

(cws: kirk being a sap + lore)

Kirk is very much that way--giving you a hard time is generally how he shows he cares about you. He's only truly mean to those he doesn't care about, and trust that there is a difference even when you get frustrated over his attitude in the beginning. He didn't grow up with a lot of love in his household so it's really not his area of expertise, he never really learned how to show it and only started experiencing affection when he joined the pack and made friends with all the other werewolves. Being snuggled, having his hair stroked instead of pulled, listening to his friends talk about him being handsome and smart even if he's got a shitty attitude.....it's weird to him. He doesn't hate it deep down, but he hates how it makes him feel vulnerable when he doesn't want to be.

'Vulnerable' is barely even in his vocabulary, which is why he comes at you with so much heat at first. He'd been hoping and praying that you two could boink, have a good time, and then you would pretend like it never happened so he wouldn't have to face any of those feelings he has when he looks at you. But when you don't, and when you're just so sweet, Kirk can't handle it and has to revert to what he knows: being a dick. Not nearly to the extent of how he is with other people, but just enough to keep you at arm's length in his constant fear that you're gonna end up making him feel like he isn't totally worthless. Because what would he do then? He's accepted the role of being an irredeemable, raging douchebag for pretty much all his life. He's got an attitude, his temper is awful, he doesn't consider himself that good-looking, he's got some of the worst grades out of the whole pack, he fixates on things and lets them consume all his thoughts, and he hasn't even got any palate to boot and will eat just about anything, even if it's on the verge of spoiling. He's total garbage and he's friends with a pack of people that couldn't be more perfect; Julian is incredibly charming, Portia's practically a genius, Nick is insanely handsome, Elliott is so gentle and really funny, Priam is a total sweetheart and Athos is the pinnacle of cool in his eyes. How could he even think of measuring up to all that, much less stick out among the rest and prove he's worth even a little bit of your love?

That may be the most frustrating part about Kirk--he can be the prickliest guy you know and he would die before he ever says those things out loud, but he seriously admires his friends and you yet he has little to no belief in himself. Granted, growing up he would've gotten his ass beat for showing that kind of weakness, so it's still deeply ingrained in him as an adult--especially since the pack are pretty much the first friends he's ever made on his own. And at his core, he's jealous. Jealous of them and their nice families, jealous of how well they all turned out despite going through their own struggles, jealous of how easy it is for them to be open when he's terrified of people finding out he's bi, jealous of you for being so brave and so beautiful in equal measure....so that's why the best thing he can do--in his own opinion of course--is to be your collective guard dog.

After all, Kirk isn't afraid to bite. His instincts are hard to control in his human form, could you even imagine how feral he can get when he's full wolf, or even just close to the full moon? If anything it's what he's good at; hunting, beating ass, and taking a punch. If he can't be as good as you and the others deserve, the least he can do is make sure that sweetness and the goodness of your souls isn't ever dominated by someone else. He'll spill blood, he doesn't care. He would even get suspended if it came to that, expelled, arrested, whatever it takes and he'll let the chips fall where they may. You'll know his love for you is real when he starts acting protective over you, not only when other people try to bother you but as far as your daily needs as well. Have you eaten properly? Are you thirsty? Do you need to sleep? When's the last time you stretched? He acts like it's a favour he's doing for you, like you're a little wolf that needs caring after, but in truth it settles his own self-doubts and makes him happier knowing that he's doing something for you--that he's taking care of you like a mate would, and when you smile at him or thank him for his help he just melts. He would do anything to keep hold of that smile.

.....Which is why he's got a plan in his head for after graduation. He and Nick are the oldest and thus are going to graduate first of all of you, so once that's over and done with he's got plans to start building a place for you all to properly call 'home'. It's nothing crazy--just a cabin in the woods--but if there's one thing he can confidently say he's good at it's woodworking, and he's sketched out the designs to make it everything you could ever want.

Personal rooms for you, him, and Portia who has trouble falling asleep when it's noisy. A big living room with enough sofas to fit you all. Polished oak walls like Julian grew up with and always wanted to see again. A bathtub big enough to fit Nicky's giant, muscly legs without spilling over. Tables and chairs to fit everyone and more, to fit all the family gatherings and maybe even the pups you might have one day. A garden out back where he'll plant those ugly little flowers Elliott loves. Trees and greenery around where they can run and hunt and play during the full moon, totally obscured by the rest of the world. A big fucking chandelier in the dining room to intimidate any friends you bring over that think they're hot enough shit to snatch you. It's gonna be perfect, it's gonna be the one thing he can say he's proud of in practically his whole life. It'll be a gift to all of you for putting up with his assholery for so damn long, for sticking with him even when he couldn't find a single reason why you should.

That's the kind of love Kirk shows. Words don't mean much to him--actions and acts of service are how he expresses his affections, because it's much simpler for him to put work into something he can touch and measure and paint rather than throw some flimsy words around and call it love. Plus, one of the reasons why he lives in his own dorm is because his downtime is incredibly important to him. Usually he would request a private one-bedroom apartment, but this year he was assigned roommates that he very quickly drove away with his annoying habits almost entirely on purpose. If he's not comfortable with someone, then like hell is he going to share an intimate living space with them--and after a long day he just needs time to be completely alone. He has to think, work on his projects, exercise, chew on something, and have no prying eyes around that will impede his progress in trying to figure out how the hell he can try to make himself worthy of being loved by you. A dumb, violent wolf reaching to grab the very moon from the sky.

#kirk (mc)#werewolf x reader #werewolf team #monster boyfriend #monster campus lore #neutral pov #ellie writes #phantom-ofthelibrary #anons #werewolf boyfriend

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bitterlycursedstars · 6 months

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Hey! I hope you're doing well! I've been scrolling the DMC tag for a while and love your writing! That said... I was wondering if I could get Dante and Virgil head canons for the differences between dating them when they're younger like in the first few games vs when they're older like the lar couple of game.ps, I just think it's would be interesting to see how being a relationship with them would change with their age/maturity

First of all, thank you so much! I love when people enjoy my writing!

Second, forgive me if this isn't to your liking, I've only played 3, 4, and 5, and I'm more of a Vergil girl 😅

(you're actually my first ask, so I'm not used to this)

DMC3 Dante-

•would smack your ass in public

•would hit on you, no matter where you are

•would appreciate it if you don't shoot him in the head, babe

•would trip you on purpose just to be able to catch you and smirk at you "Heh. Looks like you really fell for me, huh?"

•would pursue you until you fell for his charm, if you didn't immediately

•knows you love when he walks around the office shirtless

DMC3 Vergil-

•would be uncomfortable showing PDA, including hand-holding, so you would more than likely just walk beside each other in public

•would be terrified of getting close to you because of what happened to his mother, so you'd be kept at arm's length

•would be extremely hesitant to trust you for a while, and come off as cold and uncaring, when he simply doesn't know how to love or be loved

•when you did earn his trust, he'd teach you how to wield your own weapon so you're not defenseless against lesser demons

•but good luck getting out of his sight long enough to actually fight anything your own

DMC5 Dante-

•would wear your bra/thong just to mess with you

•would give you your own personal strip tease in the bedroom

•sends you dirty sexts in the middle of the afternoon, just so you have something to look forward to that night

•if he knows you're really busy, especially at work, expect to get nudes

•if you use guns or swords, he falls that much harder for you

•rides his motorcycle everywhere with you just so he can feel your arms wrapped tightly around his waist

•would pull you close to him by your waist to give you surprise kisses on your cheek

DMC5 Vergil-

•much more at ease than his foolish little brother, preferring to sit down with a good book and a cup of hot tea

•would read William Blake to you from his book of poems, especially if you're sleepy

•would be much more comfortable with hand-holding in public

•would occasionally give you a forehead kiss in public, since he'll more than likely tower over you at 6'5" (195cm)

•would give one cold look to anyone who dare look your way for longer than necessary, and Sparda help them if they hit on you

•please give this demon a hug, because he just wants to be protected and loved, darling

•definitely the little spoon, despite his height

•wants you to stay out of the devil hunting business, because it would destroy him if he lost you too

•pretends he doesn't make dad jokes, but he definitely does

#vergil #vergil sparda #dmc5 vergil #devil may cry #dmc3 dante #dmc3 vergil #dmc5 dante #asks #ask #dmc x you #dante x you #vergil x you #headcanon #dante sparda #dante #my first ask!

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heyteenbookshey · 24 days

Text

Turtles All The Way Down by John Green

So this came out when I had started grad school and was struggling big time with my undiagnosed OCD. I read one chapter and it freaked me out so much I gave it to my friend to read. Like a year later I decided I wanted to try it again and asked to borrow it, but she had gotten BED BUGS and had to throw it out and THAT freaked me out so bad I waited another five years and one severe OCD diagnosis to try again.

Turtles All The Way Down feels exactly like what it's like to be inside the mind of someone with OCD. John Green discussed* his own experiencing with OCD in a vlogbrothers video a few months prior to release saying, "it seems to me that the stuff happening way down inside of us is difficult to talk about, partly because those experiences aren't really accessible by the senses. You can't usually see or hear psychic pain and it's difficult to describe without simile or metaphor..."

I can't be anyone but someone with OCD reading this book, already armed with knowledge of the psychic pain, but reading it feels like you are inside Aza's anxiety wracked terrified mind from start to finish.

Oh, here's the Goodreads summary:

Aza Holmes never intended to pursue the disappearance of fugitive billionaire Russell Pickett, but there’s a hundred-thousand-dollar reward at stake and her Best and Most Fearless Friend, Daisy, is eager to investigate. So together, they navigate the short distance and broad divides that separate them from Pickett’s son Davis. Aza is trying. She is trying to be a good daughter, a good friend, a good student, and maybe even a good detective, while also living within the ever-tightening spiral of her own thoughts.

WEIRDLY I am not going to talk about this whole mystery thing more than to acknowledge that it's part of the plot and I don't know why? It's such a strange plot that doesn't feel fully realized. I couldn't help but read it in terms of how it highlighted Aza's OCD (contact with things that scare her like a germy river, struggling to connect to others) more than the plot itself. Which I can excuse, I always feel internal conflicts are more interesting than external ones but in this case internal is SO MUCH bigger and more compelling, having an elaborate and strange mystery surrounding it just felt odd. The campy nature of the mystery in conflict with the gritty realism of mental illness felt unbalanced, like you couldn't process both at the same time.

It is a testament to how compelling Aza's struggle with OCD is that I'm still giving it 4.25 stars. I would recommend this book for anyone with a friend or family member who is struggling with OCD and want to understand more completely what is happening. Green doesn't shy away from the gross and scary and honestly OCD can get really gross and scary. It's awesome to read it done so well.

Possibly the best thing about this book is Aza's relationship with her best friend Daisy. Daisy is a highly successful Star Wars fanfic writer (fanfic portrayed right by the way!) who works so freaking hard--she works at a Chuckie Cheese type restaurant and does all her schoolwork on her phone, working hard to get to college and willing to go to great lengths for her friends and her personal goals. She's awesome, and I would pay any amount of money for to read Daisy Ramirez spin off.

While I could have done without the PLOT of it all, I can always do without the plot of it all. It's possible that having such a sticky strange plot to occasionally cling to balanced things out. Without something happening outside of Aza this book could have been one big long thought spiral.

I do recommend my fellow people with OCD be thoughtful about reading it (I recommend that of anyone reading a book that they will read in some way as being about them). There's a reason I ripcord ejected from it at the height of my illness. But reading it from a balanced (if not cured) place? It's just EXCELLENT

Date Published: October 17, 2017

Date Read: May 17, 2023

Rating: 4.25/5 tuataras

*possibly for the first time publicly, but I no longer have an encyclopedic memory of vlogbrothers videos

#turtles all the way down #turtles all the way down by john green #john green #actually ocd #ocd in literature #htbh reviews #book review

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murielsbottombitch · 9 months

Note

If you genuinely believe that people never fake being disabled, you must be sheltered as fuck. I can't count the number of people who saw my mobility aids and bought a $20 splint from Walmart while pretending they broke their leg/arm/wrist, and I'm guessing you never had the experience of being a deaf person who had to put out someone faking ASL or a hearing person randomly losing their hearing for an hour around you.

Lucky you. Still not okay to excuse abuse and mockery by those with factitious habits.

Tw fakeclaiming, eating disorder mention

I never said people never fake disability. I said it's rare.

my belief is that fake claiming is far more harmful than faking, granted they aren't making money off faking or spreading misinformation.

pretending to know sign language is way different from pretending to be deaf, in my opinion it causes far more harm to deaf people than someone faking. they're literally making money off a lie while making something that should be accessible, inaccessible. that's far more harm than going online and going "yep, uh huh. sure I'm deaf. totally."

fakers still have mental health issues that they need help for. people don't do that kind of shit just to do it, being that desperate for attention means something is wrong. munchausens can be really serious. people will go to terrifying lengths to get validation. just like anorexia, it's trying to look sick on the outside to get people to notice that your brain is sick. fakers need help.

fake claiming every disabled person you see online does not help anyone. it doesn't help disabled people. it doesn't help fakers. it doesn't help anyone.

I am genuinely sorry if people have seen your disabilities and faked them for whatever reason. I am not condoning that behavior in the slightest.

that is something that happened to you personally though. there's a huge difference between seeing someone online and jumping to calling them a faker and knowing someone personally who you know isn't disabled faking it in front or you.

I literally knew someone who would say they "had autism and aspergers" to make it sound like they had more going on, I guess hoping I wouldn't know they're the same/aspergers isn't real. this person had serious mental issues and would lie constantly for attention. lying about their conditions in order to minimize mine. I'm well aware that it happens. I hope they got the help they need. it does hurt people when it happens irl.

it's a horrible coping mechanism. that's why it's part of a mental illness.

this isn't about coddling fakers, it's about not abusing disabled people online because of your paranoia. you can't tell through a screen if someone is disabled.

#tw fakeclaiming #fakeclaiming mention #fakeclaiming cw #fakeclaiming

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a-998h · 30 days

Note

I wonder how the Crusaders would react to a medium! reader who can channel spirits like Maya Fey from Ace Attorney?

When the Crusaders finally encounter Dio, Reader channels Jonathan and he speaks to Dio through Reader.

Dio: Jonathan Joestar!? I thought you were dead!

Jonathan possessing Reader's body: I am, and it has been a long while since we spoke, brother. I heard you have caused many problems for my family and you made Erina cry a whole lot. That is unforgivable. *cracks knuckles* We have a lot to catch up on.

This was the first time in years that Dio was genuinely terrified.

I have never played Ace Attorney, but your description helps.

Oldseph

He thinks you're crazy

Thinks it's your Stand power

Is worried the heat has fried your brain

It's only after you all beat Steely Dan, when Joseph is upset and cursing under his breath

He then feels someone smack him on the back of his head

Joseph: Ow! What was that for?

Erina (possessing Reader): Joseph Joestar! Watch your mouth young man!

Joseph: G-Granny?!

Now he believes you

He finds it a bit strange

It's a bit heart breaking when Ceaser, Johnathan, Erina, Speedwagon, or Geroge possess you to visit him

It's kind therapeutic for him to talk with you/his family and friends

He tries to have you not over use your powers

Keeps you safe from people who want your power

Questions you on how this all works

Finds it cool your power will let you see Stands

Is shocked about the fear a Johnathan pocessed you puts in Dio

Jotaro

Thinks you're deranged

Thinks you're creepy and might murder them all

Doesn't believe you when you say it's not a Stand power

Keeps you at arms length

Truly believes you're just a fucking nutcase

It's only until he starts cursing and being a bit mean that things happen

Jotaro: Shut up old man

Johnathan (possessing Reader): Jotaro, it's not polite to insult your grandfather

Jotaro: Have you lost your mind?

It takes him a bit to catch on

Once it does, he still thinks you're crazy

Now, he no longer keeps you at arms length

Tries to figure out if the ability is Stand related

Has to deal with his great great grand parents, great grand father, and pseudo great great uncle Speedwagon and pseudo grand uncle Ceaser processing you when he does something like smoke or swear

Hates this power of yours, on the outside

On the inside, he is kind glad he can take with those who came before him

Makes you promise to keep your powers under wraps, so Dio and his minions can't get you

Is happy your power let's you see Stands

Is so happy you being pocessed by his great great grandfather

Kakyoin

Also thinks you're brain fired

Plays along when he thinks you're making it up

Tries getting you mental help

Is genuinely worried that the heat has caused you to go nuts

Keeps saying you have a Stand and that your powers are Stand related

Kind keeps you at arms length out of worry

Starts to think you were brain washed by someone, or you were raised by crazy people

Kakyoin: Kid, I'm pretty sure you have a Stand power

Child Ghost (possessing Reader): Don't be rude mister!

Kakyoin: *confused* Huh... maybe I'm wrong

After that he still keeps an eye on you

Is worried the ghosts have messed with your head

Keeps you safe so you power doesn't get in Dio's the wrong hands

Glad you and Avdol bound

Is happy you can see his and others Stands

Polnareff

Oh boy...

He feels bad for you

Thinks you've lost your mind because something happened to you

Also plays along with you when you talk about the ghosts

Thinks its a bit cool you can see Stands without having one

Kind of believes you about your power

Is the only one, other than Avdol, that doesn't think you've lost you mind as a whole

Is a bit freaked out over the ghost thing

Tries to not make it seem like he thinks you're crazy

Watches as you and Avdol bond, and is so happy

He thinks its selfish to ask you to contact Sherry for him

Until after he defeats Centerfold

Polnareff: *being sad about Sherry*

Sherry (possessing Reader): Big Brother?

Polnareff: S-Sherry?!

Sherry (possessing Reader): I'm right here Big Brother

Polnareff: *Crying and talking to Sherry pocessed Reader*

After that he believes in your powers

Is so happy you and Avdol get along

Keeps you safe so no one abuses your powers

Cheers and smiles as a Johnathan pocessed you puts the fear of God into Dio

When he realizes you can see Stands, he is smiling

Is happy if you and Silver Chariot become friends

They both protect you

Avdol

Only one who believes you

you two bond over being able to be in touch with the supernatural

He makes sure people don't think you're crazy

Tells you keep your power under wraps to not attract attention

He truly believes in your power

He tries to teach you tarot and stuff like that

He does think you have a Stand you just haven't awaked yet

He is curious on how tough see Stands without having one

He doesn’t force or ask you to contact spirits

Avdol: Hello

Pocessed Reader: umm... aren't you scared?

Avdol: No, would you like a tarot reading?

He is very calm about your powers

When he realizes you can see Magician Red... he waits to see your Stand

Happy if you and Magician Red get along

Keeps you close so you don't get taken advantage of

Is shocked when he sees you being pocessed, and it scaring Dio

#jojo bizarre adventure #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo #Jojo #jojo fanfic #Jojo part #stardust crusaders #noriaki kakyoin #jotaro kujo #joseph joestar #muhammad avdol #Iggy #iggy jjba #jean pierre polnareff #jojo no kimyou na bouken #Part 3 #Jjba sdc #Maya!Reader #I tried my best

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lokisprettygirl · 2 years

Text

The Night Screams at The Slumber Island (Loki x Female Reader) (Horror Romance) (Dark) (Au) (18+)

Read Chapter 1 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 2

Summary: Loki tries to befriend you and the people of the island makes you feel unwelcomed.

Warning: Mentions of recurring nightmare and trauma, spooky stuff

As you stepped out of the house you looked around, it was dark and the bulb in the light pole seemed damaged.

"Okay maybe this isn't such a good idea" you turned around to get inside your house but you heard the wailing again so you quickly sprinted towards the neighbor's house and knocked on his door,

He opened the door after your frantic knocks, and looked at you up and down. Your terrified demeanor didn't go unnoticed by him, you got conscious of your clothes all of a sudden, you just had a knee-length night dress on.

"You want to come in?" He asked you and you crossed your arms.

"I uhhh.." your words got cut off as you heard the scream again so you immediately stepped inside and got behind him, he closed the door slowly.

"What the fuck is that?" Your lips trembled as you asked him and he turned around.

"Just calm down alright? It's just wind"

He looked at you right in the eye and you felt so stupidv"It's windy out there, the island is like a dome, when the wind collides with it, it creates that eerie sound"

He told you and you shook your head in disbelief.

"That is not.. I ..I have never heard wind screaming like a woman on her deathbed" you told him and he smiled.

"Just relax, would you like a glass of water?"

"No thank you" you said to him politely, you didn't want to come across as rude but drinking something from a mere stranger didn't seem like the smartest idea.

"Would you like to sit by the fire?" He asked you as he noticed your shivering form and you nodded in response, you can do that. You stepped closer to the fireplace and sat down, you flinched as you felt him placing a small blanket around you.

"I'm not going to hurt you" you turned around to face him as he sat down on the rocking chair he had in his living room, his house was identical to yours but he didn't have a creepy portrait above the fireplace.

"Sorry I just..I guess I am spooked" he smiled a little as you said that,

"Are you a believer?"

"Believer?"

"Ghosts"

"No I don't think so, I have never encountered anything like that so no"

"A skeptic I see"

"I believe what I see from my own eyes"

"Really? But you thought there was a woman screaming murder just now" he smiled and you rolled your eyes at the small smirk on his face.

"What if a woman actually was getting murdered?" You asked him and he twisted the corner of his mouth.

"Well anything can happen on this island my dear, be careful, your eyes can fool you but your heart won't"

You nodded in agreement, you have been there, gotten hurt and damaged severely because you trusted him.

"So how long have you been here for ?" You asked him to divert the conversation and he smiled.

"If we are going to have a tete-a-tete, may I offer you a cup of tea? You can watch me make it if you do not trust my intentions" He asked you and you shook your head.

"Do you always force your guests to have a drink with you?"

"No miss, you are unnerved, I can sense that from here and I just want you to relax and get to know me a little so you do not think of me as a murderer or worst.. a rapist. We are neighbors and if you're going to turn up at my door around 3 at night we must get acquainted, right?" You got up as he said that, your eyes teared up as a flashback hit your vision,

"No thank you, sorry I bothered you" you turned around to leave, dropping the blanket on the floor and you heard him get up, you quickly bolted to the door and twisted the door knob. You could feel him staring at you but you just wanted to get out of there. You felt paranoid that he will hurt you if you stayed any longer.

He did distract you from the whole screaming lady nonsense but now you were thinking about him, he was nice but you couldn't help and feel worried, He was a man after all. His thoughts made you fall asleep and you got up around ten in the morning,

"Shiit..the vegetable market" you cursed as you realized that you had gotten late. It was a gloomy day again and you wondered if the sun ever shined around here.

You put on a robe and stepped out of the house to look around the greenery and you found him on his porch, with a cup of tea in one hand and a book in another. He just had a wifebeater on along with a pair of pants, his hair was wet as if he had just taken a shower. His eyes met with yours so he smiled

"Good morning" you heard the greeting so you mumbled it back and walked towards him.

"Hii" you said to him and he placed his book down to pay attention to you, the gesture made you feel flushed.

"Are you feeling okay?" He asked you and you nodded as you crossed your arms.

"Yeah I uhh..I wanted to apologize for my behavior last night, I didn't intend to be rude, I just.. thank you for opening the door for me, I was really spooked "

"That's not an issue love, no need for formalities. Would you like to borrow something? Milk? Coffee? Eggs ? You missed out on shopping right?" He asked you and you hummed in response.

"How did you know?" You doubted everything he could tell.

"Because I didn't see you there" he smiled at you, he had a warm smile and he didn't make you feel uncomfortable like the taxi driver Phil did.

"I have coffee, can I get some milk?" You asked him and he stood up immediately.

"You can come with me if you want" he chuckled so you followed him, somehow he understood that you felt weird around men.

"My mom used to worship the god Loki, like she was really into it, did your parents name you Loki because they worshiped him as well?" you said to him and he smiled.

"Yeah maybe" he mumbled as you followed him into the kitchen. He took out a carton of milk and passed it to you.

"Ohh I don't need this much"

"Just keep it darling, it would last a good two days" he squeezed his eyes as he realized that he had used the pet name again.

"Apologies, force of habit" you smiled as he said that.

"It's okay, I should go, I'm meeting the head of the school"

"You're going to be a teacher"

"Yess everyone has to do something here right? What do you do?"

"I don't work here darling, but I am an artist, musician to be precise, i sell them under a pseudonym in the city"

"That's interesting, they allow you to be here and not do anything?" You asked him and he chuckled.

"I can be wherever I want " he winked as he finished his sentence. You walked back to your house and made a cup of coffee then you got ready to go see the headmaster of the school, you briskly walked as you were already late for the meeting.

"Sorry I woke up late, first morning here, my alarm didn't ring" you apologized as you sat down in front of him, his name was Clint Barton.

"Make sure it does tomorrow because I wouldn't tolerate such tardiness" he said to you and you nodded. He seemed like a bitch but you just had to teach three hours and get out of there. On the way back you saw different houses and different people, they all were staring at you and you felt unnerved again but it was a new place and maybe they were just curious about the new resident.

"A dress like that, what are you? A whore I bet" you turned around to see a middle aged brunette sending you death glares, she had a full length dress on that seemed tattered.

"Excuse me?" You crossed your arms and she huffed before she turned around to leave "fucking whore" you shook your head as you couldn't believe the audacity and you went by the beach to buy some chicken so you could make dinner. You found the vendor's shop immediately, it smelled like death in there,

"Hi uhh..I just wanted to get some chicken" you mumbled and a man with blonde hair and blue eyes approached you. For such a small island people were surprisingly good looking here.

"Sure mam..you're y/n right?" Everyone knew you here it seems and yet you didn't know anyone.. except Loki. You felt a weird butterfly feeling crawling in your stomach as you thought about him, what the fuck is wrong with you? That's not why you came here.

After buying chicken you walked back home, it was just around six but had gotten dark already, Steve the vendor had asked you to wash the meat and then freeze it.

You glanced towards Loki's house and it was all lit up just like yesterday. As soon as you got in you quickly turned the lights on and your eyes fell upon Minola's portrait.

"You creep me out Minola" you mumbled as you brought a spare bed sheet and covered the portrait. After eating and showering you got into bed, setting the alarm for 8 sharp.

As you closed your eyes, you saw him on top of you, you tried to move and get him off you but you couldn't, you were helpless and bound. You sat up on the bed and turned the lights on as you looked around, you weren't there anymore, you weren't in the hospital bed, you were away from all those people, you were okay.

Your breathing staggered and you felt extremely sweaty so you chugged a glass of water and took another pill even though your doctor Stephen had warned you to not do that.

Then you laid down to sleep again but you heard a growling noise coming from the living room, it was screechy and pierced your ears, you grabbed the knife you had kept under your bed for safety and made your way to the living room, walking like a thief around your own place. "It's probably a cat or something" looking around you didn't see anything but then your eyes fell upon the portrait and you saw the bedsheet you had covered it with shaking.

Your heart beat raised as you realized that was the source of noise, the screeching angry noise was coming from behind the bedsheet. Your eyes teared up because of fear and you moved towards the portrait slowly, fear plagued your mind, were you losing your mind finally? You couldn't even differentiate what was real and what was just in your head anymore.

Building all the courage you had in you, you used the tip of the knife to remove the bedsheet off the portrait and that's when Minola leaped at you.

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