#rest assured this isn't likely to become the kind of thing I write because it is well out of my wheelhouse
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Savage
Summary: Request for some Scottish warrior Soap taking an English maiden as a prize.
Words: 3.7k
CWs: Violent non-con (I am so serious, do not ready this if it's not your thing), hardcore smut
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Authors Note: This is very much a rape fantasy. Traditionally rape fantasies have historical grounding in minorities who felt ashamed of their own desires so had to fantasise a situation in which they were blameless for engaging in a stigmatised action because it was forced. It’s sort of where a lot of the noncon trope in bodice rippers comes from because women in unhappy marriages need a fantasy in which they can get rid of the shame for wanting passionate or rough sex because they imagine they fought against it. A lot more people have rape fantasies than people generally realise and truly a miniscule barely there number of them would ever think it was ok to actually assault someone. All that to say, this is not me condoning anything in real life. If you find fantasies like this don’t do it for you, then do not read it, but don’t then shame people who do. There is psychology behind why people fantasise about these things, it’s pretty normal and you don’t need to be worried that it is some moral failing. Mind your business.
It was a miraculously good match for you, a high ranking soldier of the King’s army. You were technically of noble blood, but just barely. You lived simply, not in a large house but in a small village where you held no sway over anyone else and were treated as common. But the village was close to the border between England and Scotland and every day it became more tense as whispers of raids from villages to the West skittered between houses like rats.
You didn’t know how your uncle had made arrangements for this beneficial marriage for you, but it would get you moving South in a few days time to marry and then you would finally be able to relax with this war much further away from you. You had heard horror stories of what happened to young maidens when savages came pillaging. They said that they didn’t wear anything under those kilts, they said it was to make it easy to bury their cocks in any hot hole they could find. They said they didn’t have any tame qualities, not like the English. Scottish men were feral, the comparison to dogs not holding water because at least dogs could be trained.
When you retreated to bed you got on your knees to say your prayers. As always you had to beg forgiveness for the licentious thoughts that sent thrills straight to your cunt whenever you thought about the images all those rumours put in your head.
–
The noise of chaos woke you in a panic, heart hammering against your ribcage as the smell of smoke drifted on the air and war cries sounded. You recognised your own kinfolk of course, the battalion of soldiers stationed here to keep eyes on the border. But it was the cries of those animals from the country to the North that sent you scrambling out of bed in only your chemise, knowing you had to run and hide before they could see you.
You slipped out of the bedroom, a frightened little rabbit looking for a burrow to hop into. The smell of smoke was stronger in the main room and you could see the orange glow of flames through the window. Going outside would be a risk, but hiding in here may get you burned to a crisp should this building be lit up. You did not have time to make the decision as the door burst off of its hinges, a muscular man in a blood spattered kilt with a warrior's mohawk and wild eyes panting like a dog as he caught sight of you.
You were frozen, unable to even breathe. And then after a beat his mouth stretched into a horrid manic grin as he bounded towards you. That finally shifted you from freeze to flight as you scrambled back through to the bedroom, trying to get to the small window. You threw the top half of your body through the gap but his rough hands grabbed your naked ankles and yanked you back, hard. You felt the chemise catch on the window frame, the fabric bunching up to completely expose you to him before he let go of your ankles letting you crash to the ground.
Your knees throbbed from the hard floor and by the time you were trying to crawl away he had his hand in your hair, brutally pulling your head up and craning it to look at him leaning over and getting into your face.
“Hear I have a wee noble bitch on my hands.”
Of course he would know. There were families here who would tell them anything to save themselves and pointing them in the direction of a noble maiden, one who was betrothed to an English soldier at that, would certainly be information that could spare them. The shouts outside sounded more heavily weighted towards those in his own gruff and growling accent now. The English soldiers were losing.
“I-I don’t know what you are talking about ser” you cried gently, not knowing how else to save yourself.
“Bonnie words” he growled, pulling so sharply at your hair that you thought your scalp might be bleeding and using his other hand to grope meanly at one of your breasts through the rough fabric of your nightwear.
You cried out, feeling the tears immediately spill over and stream down your face. He was so strong, you could barely budge against his hold, and he reeked of blood and fire and sweat and hot arousal. You squeezed your eyes shut and he only growled at you.
“Ye’ll keep those eyes open, yer going tae watch yer wee English cunt take me like a whore or I’ll take yer tight arse instead.”
You choked on a sob and opened your eyes, seeing that his were full of sick glee and heat. The hand groping at your tits moved under the chemise to cup roughly at your sex and he pulled you to your feet by that hand. You screamed at how it felt as he abused you with his hand, grinding the heel against you. You felt a hot flood of bitter shame as he swiped a finger violently through your folds. What he found there made him pause for a moment, his face lighting up in unrestrained glee.
“Fucking English slut. Y’er dripping.”
You had heard women who said it would be better to be wet if they were to be taken against their will. You did not agree. Him knowing that your traitorous body found his rough abuse of it arousing was so humiliating you felt you would rather die. He was so oppressive in his demeanour, so big and aggressive above you that you imagined he may break your bed with what he was about to do to you. How foolish of you to think he would have that level of mercy.
“Going tae show all those bastards how their women take Scottish cock” he laughed, spearing two fingers inside you to their full length with no softness at all and pulling you by them.
You could not breathe. You had never had anything inside you and those two fat fingers felt like they were stretching you so much you would tear. He walked backwards so he could keep them firmly inside you and you stumbled pathetically after him, needing to keep as close to him as possible to stop the painful press against your walls that came from him pulling if you did not move.
The shame was overwhelming as you emerged, full of his fingers and stumbling after him with tears streaming down your face, to find that your country's soldiers had been defeated with the survivors on their knees, hands bound. You were being paraded in front of them you realised, they had been put right here in the town square so they could bear witness, the Scottish soldiers standing behind them feral and full of lust as they took in their leader pulling you in front of them by the cunt.
When he ripped his fingers out of you, your knees buckled and a high whine left you. You had went from feeling too full to feeling far, far too empty. You could barely hear anything but the blood rushing through you as your heart hammered. That and him as he taunted the soldiers on their knees.
“Our women would ne’er let ye touch them, they’d die first. Yer clean wee English princess on the ither hand?” he said, planting a booted foot to your chest and pushing until he had you pinned on your back underfoot, “she’s gagging fir it. Foaming at the gusset tae take strong Scottish cock, put a real warrior in her belly.”
His own men cheered at that and you watched on with horror as he cocked his head at one of them and he began to approach you.
“Naw a monster though am I my wee slut? Ye’d be wet enough fir one of their small English cocks nae doubt, but fir mine? Going tae need something to help me sink in good and deep.”
The other soldier went to his knees between your legs and you watched as he pulled his throbbing cock from under his kilt, jerking it violently. You tried to move away, his cock so close you could feel the heat of it between your legs, but the boot on your chest held you still. When you tried to close your legs the man touching himself used his other hand to wrench one of your knees until it was touching the ground, using his own knees between your thighs to help him keep your glistening cunt fully on display.
When the head of his cock stroked through your folks, slicking you with his pre-cum and bumping at your clit, you were so overwhelmed that you didn’t quite manage to bite back your moan. They laughed meanly at you as the man found his release, spurting hot cum all over your pussy, smacking his cock against your stomach when he was done to shake off the last drops.
It was filthy, you felt sticky and like you were on fire. The next soldier took his place and spat right on your already disgusting cunt as he began to stroke himself. By the time he had painted you with his seed and the third was started, the man above pressed his foot harder to get your attention and all you could do was stare up into his taunting eyes, trying to focus on him so you could not think of what was going on between your legs. You cried up at him, trying to find any level of sympathy in him.
“Keep crying and I’ll gie ye something tae cry about princess.”
Oh you hated him calling you that when you were pinned down in the dirt, defeated soldiers of your country watching as their enemies smeared their cum all over your exposed body. Watching as they made a sloppy mess out of you in preparation for their leader to shove his cock deep inside and pump you full of his savage children.
You did not know how long you stared up at him, not able to look away as you felt the heat of his men on your body, your own body getting hotter and hotter with each slide of velvety throbbing skin against your own. He had started to talk to you, his eyes not budging. It wasn’t the defeated soldiers he was taunting, it was you, ruined and disgraced under his boot.
“See how good I am tae ye little whore? Letting my men make ye flush wi pleasure. Don’t deny it, think I cannae see yer face whenever ye feel a cock on that wee untouched pussy? Like a fucking bitch in heat. I’ll fuck ye like one. Get ye on yer hands and knees so ye can look yer precious King’s soldiers in the eye when ye fall apart on my cock. When ye’r fucking begging for my cum. Wilnae even have tae dae any work, ye’ll be fucking yourself back on me ye needy slut.”
You shook your head in horror at his claims, the true fear being that he would make them true. Already you felt in a daze, felt empty and desperate. But you felt fear as well as he put his arm under his kilt, rucking the fabric up to grab at his cock. It was huge and you found yourself panicked and squirming as the last of his soldiers grunted and slapped the meat of your thigh to get you to stay still. You were rambling incoherently as the man above stroked slowly at himself, causing that thick weapon between his legs to throb and seem even bigger.
“It won’t fit, it’s not going to fit, please I’ll die, you’ll split me open. It’s so big no no I can’t, I can’t!”
You didn’t even feel the last of his soldier’s loads splatter onto you, didn’t notice when his hands left your flesh. You would have rapidly purpling skin in the shape of fingerprints all over your thighs from how you had been held still by all of them, but you could not feel the dull pain of it through your fear of what was to come.
“Ye’ll take whit I gie ye and ye’ll fucking thank me princess.”
He removed his foot and it was only then you realised that he had been pressing down hard enough that your breaths had been shallow. The rush of oxygen from being able to fully expand your lungs again made you horribly dizzy, but it also flooded right down to your clit and made your body jerk violently with the sensation.
He didn’t take his hand from his cock and he bent so he could use the other to grab your ruined hair again, yanking your head up and shoving himself into your mouth. You choked, legs scrambling to get underneath you to give you some stability with which to batter your fists against his thighs, trying to pull away. He laughed meanly at your attempts, moving the hand that was touching himself to join the one tangled in your hair on the back of your head and pulling your head at the same time as he thrust forward, settling himself fully in your throat.
You were gagging around him, tears really streaming down your face now as you begged him with your eyes to let you breathe. He held you there, his own eyes glittering with satisfaction, until your muscles started to give in and you felt your eyes dropping closed as your brain became cottony. Then all at once he pulled you off and you were gulping in oxygen around your coughing and sputtering, the rush much more intense this time.
He held your head tilted up at him so he could watch your face as he shoved his boot between your legs and got you over the edge. Oh weren’t you a delicious little thing for him, getting off so hard on how he used you, moaning shakily and wantonly in the dirt beneath him in front of his triumphant soldiers and your defeated ones.
“Good fucking girl” he growled with a feral grin, letting you ride it out with little aborted thrusts on his boot, unable to control your body.
You looked gone, eyes glazed and body slack. Couldn’t have that, he needed you screaming for him. He needed your blood fighting between being frozen with terror and boiling with need. And he needed you full of him, needed to be able to feel his own cock through your stomach so fucking clearly that he could jerk it.
You were thrown forward, top half of your body collapsing pathetically into the dirt right where it was covered in the sweat and cum of his soldiers. He manhandled your hips up, leaving your face crushed into the dirt and your ass up high for him, cunt presented. You felt his hot breath at your ear and it was a sudden shock when you realised he was growling lowly into your ear, his words for you and you only.
“S’going tae hurt, yer going tae scream yerself hoarse for me and then I’ll get ye tae milk me when I rip pleasure out of all that pain. Will treat ye right after little princess, like one of my good Scottish lassies, but right now ye’r my fucking English whore.”
The confusing mix of sentiments cleared some of the fuzziness from your mind but you had no time to dwell. He was right, it did hurt and you did scream yourself hoarse. He had lined himself up and plunged into you, cock coated and slick from the cum of his soldiers but no less huge inside your tight virgin pussy. He had split you in two, you were sure of it. His cock must have broken through you, was sitting in your ribcage and punching all the air from your lungs.
You blacked out for a moment, coming right back to when he pulled out to fuck brutally back into you again, slapping your ass so hard that you felt the sting all the way up to your fingertips and making you choke on the sob that fought through the screaming. He ripped at your hair, making you look at the defeated soldiers on their knees. Making you watch their own cocks swell at your treatment. Your utter ruination was making them hard. Your head being wrenched back meant you had to go to your hands as he pounded you, and you saw how they looked as one of your breasts was fucked right out of the chemise, bouncing lewdly for them to see with every hard thrust.
The humiliation had you digging into the dirt like you had claws, feeling the bite of the earth pushing under your nails. It sparked something in your brain, almost like you could see them sharpen. Like you could feel your shoulder blades become more pronounced, become something sinewy and sleek and animal. He was fucking you like a predator and you were drooling and howling and panting like his prey, back bowed as he pulled your hair harder and had to staring at the sky babbling prayers into the night air.
“S’too much, can’t, I can’t. Full, too full.”
“Ye fucking can. Yer tight fucking cunts trying tae strangle me, wants my cum so bad naw? Perfect English pussy, so slutty and needy for a real cock” he growled, hand letting go of your hair and smacking your ass right over where he had before, causing you to howl at the pain.
The pain and something else, something that had no place here and yet had been lingering from the moment he had caught you. Something that had been getting closer and brighter and more insistent with every abuse you were subject to. Something that he invited in when your arms collapsed beneath you without him holding your heads weight anymore and he ground your face into the ground before bringing his hand to your clit and pinching.
Your scream was raw and hoarse, throat well past being able to produce a clear sound. The orgasm was blinding and every bone felt like it had liquified. You saw white and then you saw hardly anything, only vague shapes and colours. The only thing now was how his cock filled you. The shame was gone, replaced with the truth that you loved this. You loved how he used you like this, how he violated you in front of these soldiers just because he could.
“That’s it princess, fucking take it” he hissed, stopping his thrusts and letting you do all the work.
You didn’t even realise now how you wildly fucked yourself back on his cock trying to chase the pain of overstimulation, addicted to the way it made you feel some sick hazy pleasure. You were drooling onto the dirt, tasting the earth mixed with cum and finding the disgust of it only felt right now. When his hand came to your stomach and pushed to feel himself bulging there you came again, harder, babbling thank yous to him.
He bit out a string of curses above you as your pussy squeezed so hard it was forcing him out, but he was strong as he forced himself balls deep and held there, finding his release as you milked everything out of him and into your womb. The liquid heat of it was the last thing you felt as you passed out, blissed and fucked out of your mind.
–
John MacTavish allowed himself a moment to lean his body against your back, inhaling the scent of sweat and dirt and cum and fear and lust from your limp body. So good for him, took it perfectly. He hissed when he finally pulled out, resisting the temptation to just keep going beyond what would feel good because fuck, being inside you had been a religious experience.
He was nothing if not a man of his word though, and he scooped your body gently into his arms to get you onto a horse and ready for him to take over the border where he could give you that princess treatment he had promised. The surviving soldiers they would leave beaten and bloodied but not dead. After all, someone had to tell your betrothed all the details.
-
“Fucking MacTavish” he hissed after excusing the man who had given the report.
He had made him give it in full detail, told him to leave nothing out.
“Kept her alive by the sounds of it, maybe looking to get a bastard out of her” Garrick mused.
“Knowing him he’ll keep her near the border to taunt us instead of moving her further up North” Price added.
Simon Riley would not be letting his betrothed get away with allowing MacTavish of all people to take the maidenhood that rightfully belonged to him. She needed a proper punishing fuck from an English man to learn better.
“Doesn’t matter where he keeps her. I’m going to take her, and she’s going to learn what happens to sluts who spread their legs for those Scottish bastards”.
#mhairiwrites#fanfic#cod au#john soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#cw: noncon#rest assured this isn't likely to become the kind of thing I write because it is well out of my wheelhouse#I've got a half chapter of Firewatch written and will finish that off#But I'm looking to do a little more of the Teashop AU after and that is going to stay fluffy and wholesome as hell#darkfic#dark content
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sotw is so close to my heart and i admire you and your writing so much. the snippets you posted are so good and it’s so interesting to think about what could’ve been! something that is so interesting to me in the fic is sam and dean’s relationship. i wonder every time i read sotw what the future holds for their relationship?
this is a feast of a question. I'll tell you what I know:
there's just over a week between when Sam leaves and when he's set to start school. just before he's due to go back (and just after Dean rescues Zeppelin), he gets a call from Dean. at first he assumes Dean is calling to make amends for John and try to woo him back home one day, same old story. but Dean says he's broken from John, intends to become Sam's guardian, and also he's gay and dating Cas. honestly all the John stuff is more real and relevant to Sam in that moment. the gay thing is a surprise but Dean's pretty much like, "if you have questions just talk to Charlie, she knows" and I think Sam is pretty much in the best environment in that regard
the first time Sam comes home is, logically, Christmas. Dean and Cas just got the new farmhouse in November. part of Sam wanted to stay at school, because it feels weird going "home" out of tradition or comfort when this isn't your childhood home and everything's changed and he doesn't know what he feels. I also happen to know that Cas is the one to pick him up at the airport, unexpected because Dean got called away last minute with something unavoidable. and it's kind of good because Sam gets to ask and find out for himself that Cas doesn't think of Sam as encroaching on their space. that it was part of the conversation from day 1 that this was Sam's home too
and you know. YOU KNOW how excited Dean is to show all this stuff to Sam! the lights he put up, and a tree, and he's made a WHOLE BUNCH of food. like, it's a modest house that needs a lot of work and he and Cas are just scraping by, but he's made sure Sam's room is nice and there are presents for him and I think for the first time, Sam actually sees that Dean wants his approval. and when he finds out Dean is actually making plans to leave town and visit Sam in California for his birthday, he's surprised by Dean and understands just how much he's grown and changed without John around
they also have a conversation about John. to put it to rest. obviously Dean hates that but Sam insists he doesn't want to be kept out of it, that he was always affected by it to even if he wasn't allowed to be made part of it and understand what was going on. he wasn't actually left out of it, ever, and I think when Dean gives in and agrees to talk about it just this once, he realises how deep it went. and how Sam didn't even always have the connections that Dean had to other people in town, and that there were reasons Sam felt isolated. and Sam would ask the big question, does he think John's dead? (Dean doesn't know.) does Dean want him to be dead? (Dean never wants to see him again. but it doesn't comfort him to think of John dead rotting in a ditch.) (Sam, like the rest of us, doesn't seem bothered by this prospect.)
and, of course, a word about Dean and Cas. that first night Sam is home you just know Dean won't fall asleep and is whispering to Cas all the things like: "do you think he's doing good? he seems good"; "do you think he likes the place? maybe I should repaint his room"; and "is he okay with us, though? for real?" and on this Cas is able to assure him that on that drive from the airport, the only question Sam really asked was if Dean was finally happy
(he is)
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 I know this is kind of a weird ask to get, rest assured I would not be sending it to you if I had found it another way but even after the Smending information ban was lifted, I still cannot find this information, and I saw that you completed seeking so I figured I would ask you.
What is traveler returning? Or more specifically, what does it mean, what is it about? I have deciphered the other endings frustratingly ambiguous writing style, but I still cannot understand traveler returning. What does it mean? 
Let me tell you a secret, my friend: I don't think anyone, myself included, has a flying clue wtf the "who is salt" ending of smen MEANS. It has very little connection to going East in ssea or with Irem in FL. It's its own thing (derogatory).
I remember reading a blogpost where AK said he didn't think anyone would actually pick that ending and so threw that together and I guess that's why it's drivel? What did I call it again? Making fridge magnet poetry behind your back in the dark? Yeah
I've seen one interpretation that it's meant to break the fourth wall and imply the player has secretly been Salt all along. And honestly? I personally like that less than it being nonsense (no hate if u like that theory). I don't like meta reveals like that when there's no foreshadowing. Feels like a cop out. And also... why does the player have to be an otherworldly being to be special? Who is Salt? Well it certainly isn't me!
That theory aside, doing a strict reading of the text and ignoring meta stuff, interpreting its meaning as precisely what it says... it means all of nothing.
I did the Hate ending and thought that was the most interesting of the 3. Grieve, sure, fine. Who is Salt? [long fax machine noises]
(I gotta tell you I laughed SO HARD getting this because I'm always joking with my friend about "who is salt" being incomprehensible XD)
Disclaimer this is just my opinion etc, but as someone pursuing an MFA in writing with a good bit of experience in editing: this would NOT fly if it came across my desk. Even if your story is meant to be punishing and has "no good things at the end," I feel like you still have an obligation to have a narratively satisfying conclusion.
In summary: you can't figure it out because there's nothing to figure out, pat yourself on the back and treat yourself to your favorite snack and/or beverage
Ignoring the ending and going off lore, "Traveller Returning" means... (major spoilers for sunless sea under the cut)
Traveller Returning is an epithet for one of the zee-gods, Salt. Salt, god of farewells, of travellers, of the Uttermost East. The Hungry Monarch. There's a hidden ambition revolving around it in Sunless Sea. In summary, Salt was an emissary sent by the White to the Neath to find out what sort of Shames and various crimes the Sun was keeping hidden. Salt has not yet returned with its report, instead disappearing into the East. Now, the Sunless Sea quest actually follows a narrative of the player becoming an avatar for Salt and this makes a lot more sense in its execution than the smending. The Eastern horizon is called the "Deconstruction," a sort of endless horizon in Green and Gold where the laws of space and time get really weird. Imagine a function undefined at a single point, or a tangent line that goes to infinity. I'm not sure how to explain it beyond here because I don't have a firm grasp on it myself; there's not a lot of solid info.
We still know painfully little about Salt and I really, really hope the lore declassification means we'll get more material soon. Well-written material. What's up with Salt, what about the White, what about the Woods in Winter, what is the nature of the Old Man in Vienna, etc.
#i've had a very long week and i'm only semi coherent rn this was the perfect time to answer it#smen#anti smen#smen spoilers#the white my sworn nemesis#time to hit post before fussing any longer
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Other Horror Sonas (Info Dump)
I've committed a crime... I ONLY HAVE FOUR HORROR SONAS-
Warnings: Violence, famine, murder, stuff like that.
Helix (Goes by Hel) - Horrorfell H
Personality: She is a fearless and strong woman. She is both harsh and distant. She is an expert in herbs and medicine. She aspires to be a doctor but has never been able to afford medical school. She is a strong woman who is not scared to speak out for herself. Her sympathetic and empathetic personality lies beneath her frigid demeanor. She is truthful and tries to be nicer than people believe she is. She is entirely in control of her emotions and refuses to fight. She is close to the others because she is a very lonely person. She is an excellent listener and knows almost everything. She is also quite relaxed and serene.
Appearance: She’s a woman with hazel eyes. She has curly brown hair. She has two large scars on her right eye. She either wears glasses or has contacts. She also has more scars on her torso and body. She's muscular, yet chubby. She's 5'1". She has red highlights in her hair.
Alchemilla - Horrorfell Skelesona
Personality: She is ruthless, powerful, and obsessed with survival. Her rough and brutal exterior conceals a loving and gentle personality. On the surface, she ultimately softened. She's direct and honest. She lacks self-control and will quarrel with someone. She emanates self-assurance and strength. She is cruel in many ways but can also be incredibly soft. She will go to tremendous lengths to defend those she loves. She is very sympathetic yet knows how to deliver direct advice. She is also stern and severe. Her self-preservation instincts are superb. She is apprehensive of anyone she perceives as being hazardous. She is capable of and will attack anybody she dislikes.
Appearance: She has reddish-purple eyelids. She’s 5'4" and growing. Her canines are sharper than the rest of her mouth. She has scars all over her bones. She has a small scar on her cheek with two large scars on her left eye. She doesn’t need glasses in comparison to her counterparts. She has a prosthetic arm and a large scar on her neck and shoulder.
Lisianthus (goes by Lisi or Lis) - Horrorswap H
Personality: She is really direct and harsh. She gets things done, never gives up, and isn't afraid to put people in their place with words. She is courageous and astute, but also sympathetic and patient. She is an extremely resourceful person who knows how to find food for anyone who is in need. She is a social butterfly with a vast social circle. She possesses tremendous power. She isn't afraid to express herself. She has a tendency to fight folks who irritate her. She is a painter, photographer, and vocalist. She is also a flirty individual who has had numerous dates and partnerships. She is also well-dressed and fashionable. She enjoys promoting her pals.
Appearance: She has hazel eyes. She has very long curly brown hair that is usually messy. She either wears glasses or has contacts. She is thinner than her various counterparts, except Hazel. She's 5'1". She has prominent scars on her shoulders, back, and torso. She has a large scar on her face that goes down from her right eye then down across her lips. She is nearly blind in her right eye.
Alstromeria - Horrorswap Monstersona
Personality: She is a pleasant and lively individual. She is a confident, outgoing individual who never avoids making eye contact. She is only kind and considerate to people she adores and values. She has a nice temper, but she also has the ability to verbally destroy someone. She enjoys painting. She actively defends her pals and becomes annoyed when they are treated unfairly. She is ruthless and will do anything to live. She spends most of her free time writing, reading, and trying to influence people. She loves to listen, appreciates children, and is always prepared to assist people. She also enjoys cartoon television shows and movies.
Appearance: Tulip is a flower monster who also has a bit of a combined form of a rabbit monster. She’s about 5'8". She has a brownish pelt with hazel eyes. She has fur that mimics hair that is a bit curly/wavy. Her fur is faded brown and she has a scar on her eye. She has a torn ear.
Her fur, however, seems to also be leaves. She has vines wrapped around her ears with lilies (purple and red) and tulips (red) growing. When injured, her body comes apart like a cutting a bunch of vines. It also grows back and repairs itself.
Achillia - Horrorswapfell Amethyst H
Personality: She is violent, ferocious, and aggressive, but she is also calm and frigid. She tells folks the truth without regard for their feelings if they need to hear it. She is obsessed with survival and makes it a point to show it. She has great self-control and is not scared to fight. She is stern, but she knows how to retain her calm and avoid causing harm to others. She is mainly unknown due to her calm nature. Unless you're Lisianthus, she's mostly cut off from the rest of the world. She normally avoids interacting with strangers and only speaks with those she knows. She helps people when she can and will kill them if necessary.
Appearance: She has hazel eyes. She has shoulderblade-length curly brown hair that she often has tied up in a ponytail. She has two large scars on her face. She either wears glasses or has contacts. She is muscular and thin. She's 5'1". She has slight purple highlights in her hair.
Eustoma - Horrorfellswap Carnelian H
Personality: She is a terrifying force to be reckoned with, both powerful and brutal. She is quite intelligent and can be found almost anyplace. She is razor-sharp and never misses a detail. She has a harsh tone and may be very strict. She is concerned about her survival and rarely communicates when she is out and about. Underneath, she's just an animal-loving, child-protecting nerd who likes to write and draw. She devotes her time to ensuring the children are fed and the animals are healthy. Despite her stern and cold attitude, she instructs children in need and is glad to serve. She is also highly insightful and provides excellent counsel.
Appearance: She is a human woman with long wavy brown hair. She has a large scar on her left eye that runs down to her chin. She wears her hair up in a ponytail. She is about 5'1". She has a muscular but chubby physique.
Protea - Horrorfellswap Amaranth Skelesona
Personality: She is also shyer, quieter, and more reserved than her contemporaries. Out of dread of being recognized and harmed, she began to favor her human form over her skeletal form. Despite her love and sympathy, she is ruthless and merciless at times. She understands how to survive and is not scared to do it in a tough world. In order to protect her loved ones, she goes for the throat and does not back down. She is fiercely protective of children and animals alike. She enjoys reading and writing. She has a sardonic tone and is really intelligent most of the time, yet she frequently sugarcoats her statements.
Appearance: She is a skeleton monster with purple-ish red eye lights. She is 5'4. She has a scar on her right eye. She also wears glasses on occasion, but very rarely. She can't see through her right eye.
Lathyrus - Horrorswapfell Glaucous Skelesona
Personality: She is a woman who maintains her cool in the face of peril. She has an explosive temper when pushed too far. Unafraid of killing or harming anyone who threatens her or her family. She is able to clean blood out of her clothes and is very useful when it comes to it. She thinks quickly and goes out of her way to assist others. She is a highly emotional person who never backs down. Despite having been betrayed several times in the Underground, she is always willing to aid others. She does, however, have a strong sense of loyalty. She is highly reasonable and strives for survival.
Appearance: She stands at about 5'5". She is a skeleton monster. She has purple magic and a somewhat jagged scar on her right eye that reaches her chin and to the top of her skull. She wears glasses now and then.
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@kioko-noodles / @kiokodoodles @miscneilleaneous @und3rwat3r-a5tr0naut @underfell-crystal @hearty-dose-of-ranch @rainbowut
#horrorswapfell amethyst#horrorswapfell glaucous#horrorfellswap carnelian#horrorfellswap amaranth#horrorfell#horrorswap#Horrorfell H#horrorswap h#horrorfell skelesona#horrorswap monstersona#horrorswapfell amethyst h#horrorfellswap carnelian h#horrorfellswap amaranth skelesona#horrorswapfell glaucous skelesona#sdghoperd8gy#info dump#info#lots of info#ut au imagines#ut au headcanons#undertale headcanons#undertale imagines#undertale au headcanons
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the THING about Scott and Lydia, platonic romantic whatever, is that Lydia's first experience with the supernatural is all the stuff with Peter - she's manipulated and controlled, her selfhood and autonomy is unbelievably violated, she has no one to turn to, she thinks she's going crazy, she has voices in her head, she's always been fundamentally alone because of her intelligence but now she's alone and no one even knows that she is, when she learns about Scott and all the rest still they don't know what she is for ages, and putting it all together no one would blame her for becoming closed off to the supernatural, for becoming bitter and twisted, for essentially going down the Morgana in Merlin route right??? It's a very similar beginning for both of them. But she doesn't, she becomes kinder she starts helping, because she's not isolated and scared!!! And obviously it's not all due to Scott but a lot of it is.
Scott takes on the supernatural, he takes on the role of a leader and he says "I'm going to lead I'm going to use all this supernatural ability for good" and he's the first one we see doing that and his example leads others to it! Derek is so weird and bad in the first seasons! Isaac is my beloved but he and Erica and Boyd, though deeply sympathetic, don't choose kindness when they're turned, not at first! And this and peter and the kanima, these are all the examples of the supernatural that Lydia is faced with, the only exception is Scott but he's good enough that he gives her hope in it, that she could also do good with these powers, because no one else is showcasing them as something good! but he is!!! Lydia would never run and hide because of Scott! He gives her something to believe in because he leads her in kindness when she's faced so much cruelty from the supernatural before. When she says she might be able to get him more time, he promises her he'll do something about that, he assures her that it wouldn't be in vain. And then in season 4 her insistance that monsters don't have to be evil, they can be kind and gentle and good!!! and she believes that because of Scott!!!!
anyway I do believe Scott saves her in a way, he stops her from being dragged down into that isolation and fear and pain by saying look I have these strange powers too and I'm here and I'm not leaving and I'm going to do something GOOD I'm going to HELP and that's a huge part of dragging her out of the horrors of season 2, and so even if their relationship isn't romantic (which tbh I'm not wedded to they can be either i don't mind) it's crucial! it's one of the beating hearts of the story!!! It means so much to me!!! that's why.
Grace m'dear first of all I love you and I love that you sat down and took the time to write this all out :)
Second of all this is a Lot of food for thought.... I am going to chew on this as I watch season 4 because hmmm this is very interesting.......... I thought of you and what you said about Scott/Lydia while I was watching season 3--in that scene where Derek was like Lydia won't run and the twins are like WHY because of STILES? (in a real derogatory way... which sidenote Songbird did not appreciate) and Derek was like NO because of Scott and I was like Ah. AH that's right. Scott is the one holding everything together. Scott is the moral compass and the trailblazer and the one holding the torch for the cause.
I think it's also compelling because Lydia shows a certain tendency towards pessimism (which I think she calls realistic thinking in her head) and Despair (especially in season 3 when she's been taken captive). And Scott is like the poster boy of Hope. So I will keep thinking on this ;)
#mmmm i think it's interesting that i was SO sure i would be a die-hard scallison and stydia girl til the end#and then s3 struck and suddenly scott/kira and isaac/allison and stiles/malia became intriguing options#tw liveblog: fourth time's the charm
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I love the hc you mAde , ilove your writing and way to interpret the characters
Plsss imbbegging, make for cody who's s/o loves kissing and gived him a lot and physical affection 💞💞
-🔮
X-Virus With An Affectionate S\O
You like kissing, you say?
You shower him with sweet physical gestures all the time?
You love hugs, hand-holding, and cuddles?
Cody is all over that.
He absolutely melts if you lean your head on his shoulder when the two of you are watching movies, and may or may not starting imagining what your wedding day would be like.
This boy had hearts in his eyes from the moment you sent him a grin, and they have only gotten bigger as time went by.
Cody is the type of person that will attempt to wrap his entire body around you during a cuddle session.
I mean, he literally tries to become part of you, because he is not satisfied when you're just touching.
He loves to smell your hair when you're sitting in his lap; it emits a kind of scent that only makes you more endearing to him.
Eskimo kisses are a very common thing between the two of you.
He wants to marry you so bad 🥺 Don't deprive him of this, pretty please with a cherry on top.
The others in the Manor think that you and Cody were made for each other.
I mean, there's no other way that he would have found someone that can match his extreme affectionate energy if it wasn't a twist of fate, right?
He will be the big spoon any day, but feels so safe if you'll let him be the little one sometimes.
Your very presence brings him comfort and security, and he feels so happy, so special to know that you seek him out and him specifically, that you chose him to be your boyfriend and no one else.
He has a big hero complex to be completely honest.
You can't reach the cookies on the top shelf?
He isn't very tall but he sure as hell will grab a chair and get them for you.
You have a spider in your room and are afraid to get near it?
Rest assured Cody will show up decked out in makeshift armor and catch it in a glass, where he will then let it wander outside as it pleases.
You have a cold and need soup?
It may take a few tries but he will eventually learn that the ramen needs to be taken out of the packet before it is microwaved.
God knows he isn't perfect, but he will do everything in his power to make you feel the way that you make him feel, even if it takes his entire life.
#x-virus#creepypasta x reader#x-virus headcanons#creepypasta headcanons#x-virus x reader headcanons#creepypasta x reader headcanons#x-virus x reader#y\n l\n#x reader#awww
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Levi Ackerman - NSFW Alphabet
A/N: i'm bored so i'm just writing these nsfw headcanons for all my comfort characters, don't judge me. feel free to request - i posted request rules so go check it out :)
enjoy! nsfw under the cut :P
A - Aftercare (what are they like after sex)
The first time you have sex, Levi needs a lot of comfort. He'd never been that vulnerable with someone before and it took a lot for him to open up like that, so aftercare for him is the priority. Once sex becomes more frequent and he gets used to everything, he's the one to clean you both up but he still needs more emotional reassurance than he'll admit.
B - Body part (fav body part of themselves/their partner)
He isn't a vain person, so he'd probably say his arms just because of how much you love them. He wasn't too fussed at first but because of all the attention you give them he's started growing fonder of them.
His favourite part of you is your neck and collarbones. He didn't even realize he had a thing for that until he met you, and whenever you wear chokers he can't take his eyes off you.
C - Cum (where do they prefer to cum?)
Levi prefers to cum on your stomach, purely because it makes it easier to clean up. (He's always very mindful of any mess.)
D - Dirty secret (self-explanatory)
It obviously couldn't happen because of his status, but it sends a shiver of arousal through him whenever he imagines you humiliating him in public. It's something he wants to try in private, though he's nervous to talk about it with you.
E - Experience (how experienced are they?)
Levi is a virgin, since he doesn't have sex with people he doesn't genuinely, 100% trust. You'll have to guide him through everything at the beginning, however he's a quick learner and picks it up pretty fast.
F - Favourite position (goes without saying)
He likes missionary a lot because it lets him feel close to you, and he'll melt if you wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. He also gets shy sometimes, so this position is perfect to hide his face in your neck.
G - Goofy (are they goofy or serious in the moment?)
Other than the odd sarcastic comment, he's generally serious. If he's in a vulnerable position then joking around doesn't calm his nerves at all.
H - Hair (opinions on grooming etc.)
Levi keeps his own hair neatly trimmed. He'd prefer if you keep yours vaguely under control but, as long as it's clean, it's up to you how you keep it.
I - Intimacy (how intimate are they during sex?)
It takes him a while to fully open up to you, but sex becomes one of the most intimate moments you ever share with Levi where he truly breaks down all his walls for you, just the two of you.
J - Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He doesn't tend to masturbate unless he's really desperate. Something about it just makes him uncomfortable, but he also has urges sometimes when you aren't available.
K - Kinks (again, pretty self-explanatory)
When you first started sleeping together, Levi had more of the control because he thought that was the way it was 'supposed' to be. However once you brought up the idea of him being submissive, your dynamic shifted. He was extremely hesitant at the beginning because he wasn't used to being in such a powerless position, though as soon as you managed to get him into a submissive headspace it became a regular occurrence.
Levi is a sub at heart who needs a soft dom more than anything. Some of the kinks you've explored that he likes are bondage, light impact play, praise, orgasm denial and marking (as long as the marks are hidden during the day.)
He also definitely has a bit of a humiliation kink but he's still working up the courage to tell you.
L - Location (favourite place to do the deed)
His favourite place is a tie between the shower and his desk. Sometimes when he's had a long day and doesn't want a full scene, he likes to have sex in the shower (also it makes clean-up easier). Although if he feels like subbing, as long as the door is locked, one of his favourite things is for you to cockwarm him while he's trying to work.
M - Motivation (what gets them going)
Showing skin is a sure-fire way to get him riled up. I personally headcanon Levi as demisexual, so he doesn't care when other people show skin, but if it's you? All you have to do is leave a couple buttons undone, expose your chest a little, and he is done for. Also, slipping casual praise into conversations will sometimes start pushing him into a submissive headspace, especially if you've done a lot of scenes with him recently because he starts responding to that tone of voice.
N - No (something they'd never do)
He doesn't like intense pain play - he's had enough pain the rest of his life so he needs you to be gentle with him. He also wouldn't want a harsh or strict dom, preferring to have you take care of him instead.
O - Oral (preference in giving, receiving etc.)
He enjoys both equally. Before you'd had sex you wanted to ease him into the experience carefully, so you gave him his first blowjob and he almost sobbed from the stimulation. Buuuuuuut alongside that he would also happily spend hours between yours legs - the praise you give him as he pleasures you and the feeling of you clenching around his tongue is almost enough to make him finish without any physical touch.
P - Pace (are they fast, slow, quick, rough?)
If it's just against the wall in the shower then it tends to be a bit faster, and on the odd occasion Levi feels more dominant he can get rougher, but he is usually perfectly content to let you decide the pace entirely.
Q - Quickie (opinion on quickies)
They're good sometimes, especially when you're both very busy with other duties. They're good to relieve basic urges, but Levi would never choose them over a full scene.
R - Risk (how open are they to risk?)
Levi is open to a bit of experimentation, but never anything exhibitionist. He can't risk the possibility of someone catching him in a compromising position, considering his importance in the military, so he insists that you keep all bedroom activities private.
S - Stamina (how long can they go for?)
As expected, at the start Levi had pretty low stamina since it was all so new and overwhelming. It gotten a little better since then but he also has a fairly quick recovery time to make up for it.
T - Toys (opinion on using toys etc.)
He doesn't particularly enjoy using toys on you, but adores when you use toys on him.
U - Unfair (how much do they like to tease?)
He'll only tease you a little when he's in a dominant mood and you've been doing something to piss him off, but the rest of the time it's not something he does at all. (He kind of likes when you tease him though.)
V - Volume (are they loud or quiet?)
Levi is cautious to control his volume so that other people don't hear, but his whimpers of pleasure can get quite loud sometimes.
W - Wild card (random headcanon)
During a scene once, while he was deep into subspace, he accidently called you mommy. When he realized what he said he was mortified, and almost started dropping. You had to quickly assure him that it was perfectly alright, that you weren't upset with him, and that you don't mind it if he wants to keep calling you that. He only uses that name for you when he's really, really submissive, and it's adorable hearing the tiny whimpers of "P-please mommy..."
X - X-ray (what's going on... down there?)
So many people seem to think that this man has a monster cock. He is 5'3 there is no way. He's a little smaller than average, in length and girth, but that just means you can hear him whine when you take his whole length into your mouth.
Y - Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
His sex drive is low most of the time. He has so many other things he has to focus on everyday, so sex doesn't cross his mind that much. Sex is more of a stress relief that he doesn't think too much about until it happens.
Z - Zzzzz... (how quickly do they fall asleep after?)
Being an insomniac, Levi takes a while to settle down to sleep, although it's always a little easier when he's comfortably next to you. (definitely the little spoon)
#attack on titan#attack on titan x reader#levi ackerman#levi x reader#levi ackerman x reader#aot x reader#sub levi#aot
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Hi its me again. I love your writing and the fact that there isn't as much abuse like there is in others. It reminds me of old yandere stories were it was genuine lovesickness. Anyway, how do you think jjba yanderes would react to a darling that is taller and more muscular than them by quite a bit. You can do whoever you like I don't mind.
A/N: Omg ily🥺 it means a lot you said all that because I really love this genre it’s my comfort trope anyway thank you for the request n I hope ya like it!! Kira should be a trigger warning in an of itself but dw he’s just weird, not mean. Mentions of his past ‘girlfriends’, a curse word or two, lil suggestive in someplace’s Mista murks a few people, tw//gun violence
Characters: Pt2 Joseph, Josuke, Kira, Mista
Joseph was used to looking down on people, standing at a proud 6’5” he was literally and figuratively knocked on his ass when he’d first laid eyes on you, his immediate thought was you were a forgotten pillarman coming from nowhere to get revenge for your masters only to quickly realize you were just a stallion. You were strong enough to put him on his back after one too many cheeky comments. Unafraid to speak your mind and keep him in check, You would stare down at him with that mind melting smirk, all too aware of his frustrations, you assumed he was just being a man, ashamed to be outclassed by someone other than himself, oh honey how wrong you were. You enjoyed teasing the behemoth of a man as no one else really could, at least not as well as you did, throughout your little jabs and snark he always had a retort, a response on the tip of his tongue, eager to do this dance of yours until one of you broke, to you he was a way too cocky dangerously self assured pretty boy who was entertainingly easy to rile up, but to Joseph, you were his everything. Someone he could proudly take home to Granny Erina once he’d finally tamed you. He had a plan, a three step plan to steal your heart just as you’d done his, and this little game of who could annoy the other the most was just step 1. “It’s been fun JoJo but you’re gonna have to find someone else to bother.” You’d jokingly said one day out of the blue, an odd friendship had formed through the month you’d been in town and it felt wrong to leave without notice, an act of kindness you’d learn to regret. “Is this one of your famous jokes (Y/n)? Not so funny to play with a mans heart like that I nearly believed you.” He finished with a scoff, his signature smirk not reaching his eyes. “It’s true Joseph, my flight leaves tomorrow, I didn’t wanna leave without saying goodbye, because as much as we fuck around you’re pretty fun to hang out with.” Your sincerity almost made him feel bad about rushing the next few steps of his plan, he’d have to cram months of planning into a night but he’d accomplished more with less time on his side. He huffed, his grin stretched wide across his handsome features. “Then we outta make tonight count eh?” A thick arm was tossed around your neck, you had to bend awkwardly for this to be possible much to your amusement. “Okay you weirdo, whatever you say.” You let him lead you around town with a grin, unaware you’d be missing that plane, and any other one you tried to take without him.
Josuke watched you eat with the dopiest grin on his face, he’d spent an extra hour in the mirror this morning in preparation for your first official date! Well you didn’t exactly know it it was a date and Okayasu was eating rather messily beside you two but still! You’d actually agreed to come to Toni’s with him! You’d been an enigma since you transferred to the bizarre town, choosing to keep to yourself, and despite the intimidating height and mass you possessed, he saw through your act in seconds. There was a huge softie under all that muscle, he’d watched you enough to know this as a fact, you were a gem and he was intent on showing you his appreciation and adoration for the rest of his days, a vow he’d silently taken the day you’d stolen his heart, the moment was brief in reality but it lasted forever in his mind, you smiled at him in passing, he could feel time slow down, everyone around you faded in the background, a backdrop to the beginning of your story. He could imagine telling your kids how you’d met, something about the way you’d stare down at him, eyes sharp and attentive, like you truly listened when people spoke, your laugh was loud when it was real and every time he heard it he felt 10 years added to his lifespan. At the same time that icky feeling at another person making you laugh was conflicting, he’d never been in love before but he suddenly understood why his mom had never given up on his dad, love was weird but he wouldn’t give it up for anything. You’d accidentally snapped your chopsticks laughing too hard at a joke he’d tossed out, your face scrunched in embarrassment before chuckling at yourself and switching to a fork, his stand came out on its own, pocketing the shards to fix later, a new item for his ever growing collection, what a cute little memento from your first date! His thoughts swirled happily with the stories you’d be telling your kids. Thankfully neither of you noticed his little pickpocket moment, dangerous plans forming as he stared at you with those misleadingly soft puppy dog eyes.
Kira could die in this moment, happily I might add, as your firm but soft hand was wrapped oh so deliciously around his throat threatening to crush it with ease at the slightest movement. He’d been watching you for a while now, the longest he’d ever spent on someone he didn’t plan to kill, it become sort of hobby he’d picked up recently, the morally upsetting activity bringing peace to his day to day, usually he used his stand to carefully observe your routine, eager to learn all he could about his future spouses likes and desires, but he was getting greedy. Of course he could always introduce himself but he resisted, knowing there was a time and place to get exactly what he wanted. He liked to think he knew everything about you by now, your favorite color, how you liked your coffee, your love for cats, but he didn’t anticipate this. You were much more observant than he’d given you credit for, while you couldn’t see his stand you could sense yourself being watched, and seeing the large blonde lurking indiscriminately in the crowds throughout the day was enough to set you off. So you trailed off into the less crowded parts of town quickly entering an alleyway, he followed in pure confusion only to be roughly slammed into the wall, his stand came out on reflex but simply stared at his attacker, it seemed almost confused as what to do. “Why the hell are you following me pretty boy?” His eyes rolled to the back of his head at the feel of your fingers tightening, god he’d never felt this rush of exhilaration, none of his past ‘girlfriends’ could pull such an illicit reaction from him with a simple touch. When he didn’t answer you simply scoffed and tossed him aside like it was nothing. You left with a threat to stay out of your sight, yet all he could do was smile, the faint imprint of your fingers burned in his skin deliciously, how lucky could one man get?
Mista observed you with hungry eyes. His stare was unapologetically locked on your form. He made no intention to hide his attraction for you. The day you’d joined Buccarati’s crew was the day his world flipped. He assumed his new teammate would be no one to fuck with based on what Bruno told him about your stand, but when you walked in? Needing to bend down slightly just to enter the doorway had him sweating in his seat. He didn’t know what to say as he watched you happily interact with his fellow teammates, immediately you blended with the group, but all that was running through his mind were all the fun things you could do with those muscles. He usually stayed silent around you, not out of dislike as one would assume from his piercing gaze, but fear of accidentally voicing one of those nasty thoughts kept him quiet. You didn’t seem to mind though, always including him in the conversation, you even understood his very valid fear of that dreaded number! How could god plop such a perfect person in his lap and expect him to not do anything about it? Alas, Bruno had specifically told them not to make you uncomfortable with any flirting so he bit his tongue. Your aura was calming, a contrast to your powerful stand, speaking of, he couldn’t get his under control. Whenever they could Sex Pistols was out and all over you. They climbed and clamored for your attention, thankfully you didn’t seem to mind, always entertained their antics when you could, even giving each one a small peck when they wouldn’t let you leave for a mission without Mista, to say he was done for was an understatement, it took one mission going foul for his resistance to snap. His stand moved faster than it ever had, piercing the skulls of the idiots who brought you pain. He left the last one slowly bleeding out kneeling down to wipe the matted hair from your forehead, “You okay baby? Don’t worry honey I’ll make the bastard hurt.” He spoke not breaking eye contact, his hand pointed behind him, grip steady as he unloaded in the poor fool who thought it was a good idea to make you bleed, the wound was small, not even deep enough to trouble Giorno but that didn’t matter to Guido, any slight against you was disrespecting the future parent of his children, and what kind of man would he be if he didn’t defend your honor?
#yandere jjba#yandere jojo's bizarre adventure#yandere jojo x reader#yandere Joseph#yandere josuke#yandere Kira yoshikage#kira yoshikage#josuke higashitaka#yandere x y/n#yandere imagine#yandere x reader#yandere mista#guido mista#yandere Joseph Jostar
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doodles (Joaquin Torres x Reader, Soulmate!AU)
PAIRING ››››› Joaquín Torres x GN!Reader
REQUEST ››››› ya know the soulmate au alphabet? Could i request Torres + b and w from the alphabet?
b...ody art (doodles that a person draws on themselves appear on their soulmate’s skin).
g...uardian (it is said that the person who saves you from a near-death experience is your soulmate—drowning, car crash, etc.)
WORD COUNT ››››› 1,255
WARNINGS ››››› none
A/N ››››› Sooo I kind of cheated by combining the two letters. Also the writing style is kinda different from my usual story work, but hopefully both risks pan out.
The first picture to ever blossom on his skin is a bird.
The other boys in class have flowers and suns and clouds and little stick figure girls and boys, but he has a bird. And while theirs are sketchy and smudged and disproportionate, his looks as if it's been plucked from a picture book with its steady lines and cartoonish detail.
He'd been surprised to find it, nestled into the crook of his elbow, only appearing when he raised his hand to answer a question. He's so used to seeing his friends with images that littered the backs of their hands and wrists and thighs, he’d never thought to check anywhere else.
A thought crosses his mind.
More than crosses.
It takes over.
He knows he isn't supposed to.
If his teacher catches him, he'll get into trouble. He's not even supposed to have a pen in class. The rule's supposed to help kids avoid the temptation of sending off doodles to their soulmates. Of course, like all school rules, kids find a way around it, keeping pens tucked away in pockets and backpacks and lunch bags.
He's never been one to break the rules, but this feels like he has to. His soulmate's out there somewhere, waiting for him. It only feels right to assure them that he's waiting for them too.
Joaquin pulls the pen he keeps tucked in his desk in hopes of just such an occasion and quietly uncaps it. Carefully and stealthily, he drags the pen tip across his skin, eyes darting up to track the teacher’s movements and make sure he doesn't get caught. As a result, the drawing isn't very good. The head's too big for the body and the feet too long. He’d attempted to draw the wing twice, leaving the lines thicker than the rest of the bird. But it's there, facing the first and chirping out a note, so they know he's alive and thinking of them in this moment. And that had to feel nice.
He sticks the pen back in his desk, looking up at the board and quickly copying down the problems he’s almost missed. It's not until he reaches forward to pass in his paper that he notices the addition to the doodle. Two eighth notes tweet out from the first bird.
He smiles.
It becomes increasingly clear that his soulmate’s an artist.
Most people don’t have doodles on their arms and palms anymore. Instead they have drawings sketched into places only they can see--secret notes passed between soulmates. But his body is littered with art.
Intricate patterns bloom across the back of his hand, and twist and twirl up his arm. His forearm becomes a comic strip. Constant commentary on their day or whatever social issues are on their mind. Sometimes they leave a panel open for him to finish. His drawing hasn’t improved much from the first bird.
He wishes he could send along words of praise or encouragement even though he knows words won’t go through.
He wishes that they would use this gift to pass along messages like just about everyone else his age does. But all attempts at starting a conversation like that have gone unanswered. Instead, he simply gets to witness their art and their life play out across his skin. And Joaquin has learned to be content with that.
Because while other kids are coordinating their futures around their soulmates and tailoring all plans to match the other’s, he gets to make his decisions free. He gets to sign up for the Air Force ROTC without a shred of guilt or pushback like some of the other cadets have to deal with.
Their doodles are what keeps him grounded. Throughout basic and his first deployment, their delicate designs and drawings keep him company in those moments when he feels absolutely alone. They make him feel human in moments where he’s asked to be inhuman.
Their art has saved his life more than once too. The obvious doodles keeping him from doomed missions and distracting him for just long enough to avoid disaster. But more than those obvious, blood running cold, vomiting from how close it was moments, the doodles save his life because they are a constant.
He’s not the only one who appreciates the art either. The others in his unit laugh at the comics his soulmate still draws on his arms. They marvel of the intricacy of his soulmate’s work. On how they’re able to create such a detailed band of wild flowers around their own tricep. They laugh as he attempts to draw a bird amongst the flowers. He wonders if his soulmate knows they’re a bit of a celebrity amongst the 547th.
He wonders if he’ll ever get to tell them.
That’s the thought that weighs heavily on him as he watches his friends on base turn to dust around him. As he watches planes fall from the sky and plummet to the ground. As he watches the gentle waves and roles of the ocean that cascade across his forearm disappear.
It's five years before another doodle appears on his skin. He almost cries when he sees it. A small cartoon bird wipes sweat off of its forehead as if relieved.
He lacks all creativity in terms of response and just surrounds the bird in a cloud of hearts.
And that's their reunion. After this, life continues on, and their established routine continues. While the rest of the world still feels like a mess, the familiar rhythm of waking up to a new comic, of finding a new illustration branded on his shoulder makes him feel whole again.
The art maintains its affects on others as well. Both Sam and Bucky like to tease him for the "garden on his arm" or tell him he's a "human gallery." But he notices the way they practice drawing on their arms, watches as the other eyes the spot it appears on their own skin and mercilessly roasts it. Bucky has asked Joaquin if he's willing to trade soulmates more than once.
Joaquin's not.
Ideally, Joaquin would have met his soulmate under calmer circumstances.
Maybe they could have met at a Starbucks when they accidentally reached for the same drink and noticed the matching patterns on each other's arms.
Maybe they could have met while his soulmate was taking a tour of the base, and he just so happened to stop and say hello to the guide and realized that he had the same three birds on his shoulder.
Maybe they could have just finally coordinated a time to see each other face to face.
Instead, he catches them as they're pushed from a stolen helicopter.
Later, they tell him that they wish he'd just walked into their tattoo shop. That his first impression of them wasn't screaming and crying and just about ready to vomit all over him. That they wouldn't have blamed him for keeping the connection a secret when the first thing they said to him after saving their life was "Ow! I think you broke my back." (Which, for the record, he didn't. It was just bruised.)
But when he sees the band of flowers encircling their tricep, he can't keep it in. He can't believe he's holding his soulmate in his arms. The person who's kept him company for almost two decades.
So he says something almost as idiotic as they do: "You're the bird."
And that pretty much solidifies the fact that they're meant to be.
#joaquín torres x reader#joaquín torres#joaquin torres x reader#marvel#joaquín torres x gn!reader#joaquin torres x gn!reader#gender neutral reader#genderneutral!reader#gn!reader#fatws fic#soulmates au#soulmate!au#marvel fic#mcu fic#joaquin torres fic#joaquín torres fic#joaquín torres imagine#torres x reader#torres x gn!reader#torres x you#joaquín torres x you#joaquin torres x y/n
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i won't be sweet like the rest of the people i've seen talk about this topic, i'll be direct because it seems that you don't understand it. use the tags correctly, or don't use them at all.
i'll refer only to stayblr because it's the fandom in which i wrote myself and in which i keep reading, and i am fed up. the tags and the search tool are precisely that, a way to organize content under the umbrella to which it belongs so that the person who's looking for it can find it without obstacles or the difficulty of the vast and infinite world of the internet.
if you use tags that don't cover the type of content you are publishing, you are literally not fulfilling its only function in this app.
you will not attract more attention by including your content under another umbrella.
you will not make people discover you by intruding in another content circle.
you will not make your posts more popular because the audience of another gender found you.
you will only generate disorder, and that said public stops trusting your blog because you are hampering. i can assure you that if i see your alien post inside the genre i am looking for, i'll think you are annoying, and the moment your fic is correctly categorized i will simply ignore it.
if you write sfw content, categorize your content as sfw. include umbrellas that encompass your characters and their feelings (fluff, angst, comedy, etc) and the type of content you are offering (au, one-shot, scenario, etc). specifie that there is no mature content type because people who are looking at the sfw content tag are expecting to read sfw content.
if you write suggestive content, categorize your content as suggestive. include umbrellas that encompass your characters and their feelings and the type of content you are offering. specifie that there is some kind of implicit or explicit mature content because people who are searching the suggestive content tag are expecting to read sfw content mixed with suggestiveness.
if you write mature content, categorize your content as nsfw. include umbrellas that encompass your characters and their actions (smut, warnings about what kind of sexual encounter is taking place, and any kind of relationship that is involved) and the type of content you're offering (au, one-shot, scenario, etc). specifie that there is mature content because people who are searching the nsfw content tag are expecting to read erotic literature.
can you mix them if there are several types of content involved? yes, but the description of the story you are offering has to be congruent. the reader has to meet each thing you are specifying, otherwise you are lying.
can you include them if there is only a small scene involved in a story that belongs to a totally different genre? yes, you must because it is a kind of warning. you shouldn't do this if there isn't even one sentence that can hint at the type of content you're tagging in your post.
maintain order if you want your content to be distributed correctly and reach the audience you are writing for. you are forcing the reader to stumble upon content they are not looking for, thereby diverting them from their initial search.
order also refers to what kind of format you are using. at what point did answering an ask in your inbox with a random thought become literary content? not me flexing on the fact that i'm majoring on literary analysis, but stop being ridiculous.
this platform has been too generous with distributing attention to different content creators, and yet some continue to get in the way. writers spend hours, days, weeks writing and editing a short novel so that later someone fills in the tags with an absurd amount of asks that make the reader bored and abandon it, ignoring the fic that remains at the bottom because of your "hard/soft hours".
if you have followers, if you have an audience, they will see it on your blog without using tags. if you want to attract them, then do it with real and quality content which will then allow you to have a group of active people who interact with you and see your "thoughts". win the interaction, it won't fall from the sky for getting into other people's space.
just stop for a second to think about how a hobby, an entertainment space, has become pure hubbub and noise. the lack of organization causes a lack of interaction, and with it, the lack of response to which writers have been exposed in recent years. does it hurt that your favorite writers are leaving the app or stop writing? this is the reason. the place where they have to grow is so messy that they don't have the space to do it. readers don't find them.
i, as a reader, want to find exactly what i'm looking for, and i can't do it just because new writers think it's all as simple as desperately attracting attention. we all put in a lot of effort and dedication to get the followers and attention that we have, and it took time. weeks, months, even more than a year.
if you are mature and old enough to write, follow the guidelines for doing so publicly. if you don't know enough about the environment, then learn about it first. i hope i don't have to explain it with apples next.
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I do adore || Yashiro Nene
Yashiro Nene x Female! Reader
genre: fluff and shoujo ai (girls love)
summary: when yashiro gets tired for having unrequited love towards men starts to have romantic feelings for [name]
“When every little thing you do, I do adore.”
Yashiro had always been head over heels to tall and handsome guys. The senpai whom she liked for three years, spent herself learning how to cook, sew and gardening, ended up getting rejected and calling her a radish.
Teru Minamoto. The president of the student council, known for his good looks and a kind personality. Yashiro had woken up from her fantasies and knew that she didn't deserve him, but he'll be the person she'll look up to instead.
The cream haired girl was frustrated about her love life and wanting to get a boyfriend to make her fairytale come true. It's hard being a romantic, that's what you get from reading romance and fantasy novels.
That's where Yashiro dropped her wishes on having a boyfriend due to her having unrequited love and insecurities because of her legs, decided to focus more on studies and friends. Guess what? She failed to do so.
[name] [surname] was a new student, she transferred a month ago and immediately got along with everyone. [name] and Yashiro started to become friends and had a lot in common, making them even closer.
For whatever reason, [name] never failed to make Yashiro's heart skip a beat. “Yashiro-chan~!” [name] skipped over to her seat and grins sweetly. “Guess what~?”
“Yeah?” Yashiro asked, a little nervous on [name]'s closeness. “Do you need something?” she winced. [name] started to talk about what happened about her day as Yashiro listened on every word she says.
Voices from other classmates started to fade around her and Y/n's voice is the only thing Yashiro can hear. The cream haired girl watched her small movements such as tucking hair behind her ear and the way she smiles brighter than the moon.
Yashiro's heart started to pound inside her ribcage. Her cheeks suddenly warming at the longer she stared at [name] while her thoughts are racing. ‘I don't understand why [name]-chan isn't popular, I mean she's very pretty, kind and caring and...’
Her thoughts were interrupted by a small giggle from [name]'s lips. Yashiro could've fainted right there, her giggles are very endearing, oh how she wished she could make her laugh like that.
Yashiro had never felt this much romance from her previous crushes. Most of them came from pure admiration and looks, seems like [name] outshined all of them. Other than wanting to be like [name], she wanted to be with hers also.
“[name]-chan, what do you think about my legs, by the way?” Yashiro twiddled her fingers, her magenta eyes darting away from the pretty girl's direction. [name]'s expression turned soft, she tenderly wrapped her hands around Yashiro's. This made her heartbeat quicken and her whole face turned into a beautiful shade of vermillion. "Sorry for the sudden question though, I j-just wanted to k-know..."
"Your legs look fine to me, Yashiro-chan." [name] replied, reassuring her with the sweetest smile she could ever give to someone. “I think you are cute too...” she said.
“R-Really?” Yashiro lights up and beamed. [name] nodded sheepishly. The cream haired girl was swooning so hard, she felt like a leading lady in a kdrama with cherry blossoms all around. [name] went back to her seat, leaving Yashiro to fan her blushing face in between stutters. ‘[name]-chan, called me pretty...’
Its not everyday where someone calls you pretty, for Yashiro, its more like a one in a million moment and the compliment was from [name] herself. And Yashiro absolutely adores her for that.
Yashiro glances towards [name] across on where she was sitting. [name] was looking over to the window while her cheek is resting on top of her palm, admiring the falling cherry blossoms during spring. “I'm falling for you everyday...” she whispered under her breath with a pink color tinting her cheeks.
[name], a certain girl who is currently running around Yashiro's mind that night. The naivete couldn't stop thinking about her, she just got her first female crush. “[name]... why are you making me flustered...” she murmured against her pillows. Yashiro notices her hamster, Black Canyon, munching on a sunflower seed silently. “What should I do Black Canyon?”
Maybe she could write her feelings about [name] in her diary. Yashiro stood up and went over to her study desk to get her diary. She begins to write, wholeheartedly pouring out her love for [name].
“I want to hold her hand and whisk her away. I want her in my arms protectively. I wish we could be like feathers that softly fall for another. I want to feel your soft lips against mine. I wish you were mine...”
Yashiro sighed and slumped her shoulders with a flustered look on her face. She was too in love for [name] its driving her crazy. Who knew a girl who dreamed about a prince giving her a romantic fantasy dream would fall for a pretty and kind girl?
If only she was a guy, she blamed fate for being a girl who had fallen head over heels in love for [name]. Yet she feared a lot of things: What would [name] think about her sexuality and knew that she likes her? What if she starts to avoid her for it? It will be another rejection for Yashiro if that happened.
All Yashiro ever wanted, was to be together with [name]. The relationship where she can hold her hand, cuddling her in her arms, smothering kisses all over her face, she always wished to do that to [name].
Ring Ring!
Yashiro picked up the phone since it was her dear friend, Aoi, who was calling. She took a deep breath and answered. “Aoi...” she said.
“Good evening Nene-chan, I got bored and I decided to call you!” Aoi cheerfully said from the other line. Yashiro wanted to tell Aoi about her crush towards [name], yet she feared that Aoi is going to judge her for it. There's no way she could do that, right?
“Hey Aoi...” Yashiro held the phone near her ear, her hands slightly shaking because of nervousness. “There is something I want to tell you, please don't judge me for it...”
“You know you can tell me anything, Nene-chan.” Aoi assured her friend. Yashiro inhaled deeply, her cheeks warming up just by thinking about [name]. She was straight from the beginning yet she never saw it coming when she starts to fall for [name]. “So what is it you want to tell me?”
“There is someone I like...” Yashiro can feel herself getting hotter and hotter. ‘I never felt this gay towards someone, I swear...’
Aoi suddenly became excited and squealed slightly at her friend, she's a sucker for anything related to romance, she even fangirls in Yashiro's love life. “Was he an upperclassmen? Is he from another class or is he in our class?!”
Then, Yashiro finally told her. “Its from our class...” she paused to lick her lips and looked down on her feet, embarrassed that she's going to come out to Aoi. “And it's a her...”
“I have fallen...for [name]...” The cream haired girl admits. “And I really don't know how I came to love her, it's confusing me lately because I just really love her—”
“Kyaaa~!” Aoi squealed from the other line. Yashiro stopped from talking all of a sudden. “You're in love with [name]-chan? That's wonderful!”
“Y-You're okay with it?” Yashiro asked for confirmation, making sure that Aoi wasn't joking about it.
“Of course Nene-chan.” Aoi gleefully replies. “What do you like about [name]-chan?”
“She's very pretty Aoi...” Yashiro laid down on the bed and covered her eyes using the back of her arm. “Other than being pretty, she's kind, sweet and soft. There are times that I wished that she was my girlfriend but somehow I think it's impossible...”
“I don't even know if she likes girls...” Yashiro laughs bitterly. “Even if she does, she wouldn't like me back...”
Day by day, Yashiro's crush for [name] continued to grow. With her blushing and her heart racing whenever [name] comes around. She also seeks advice from Hanako on how to win [name]'s heart, he was weirded out on how Yashiro came from liking guys to girls but he shrugged it off and helped her.
Their first method was her sneaking flowers and letters inside [name]'s locker. Yashiro filled her letters with her adoration and love for [name], unbeknownst to herself that a certain someone sneaked behind her. “Yashiro-chan~!”
“Gyah!” Yashiro jolted up in surprise, turning around and saw that [name] was grinning sheepishly. The cream haired girl stopped all of a sudden, her heart started to race and her cheeks turning red. “[n-name]-chan?!”
“Ah, I didn't mean to startle you!” [name] stepped back and swatting her hands. Cute. Yashiro thought to herself, staring at her even more.
‘Nene, you're too in love with this cutie—I mean person!’ Yashiro yelled inside her mind. [name] tilted her head and smiled, giving her a slight wave before walking off. ‘What should I do?’
Should she confess to [name]? Would this affect their friendship after that? Yashiro lifted her head and looked at the cherry blossom tree across the window, at that moment she had her decision.
‘I'm going to confess to [name]!’
[name] was hiding behind the wall, clenching her chest as she sneaked glances from Yashiro who was talking to Aoi in a rushed manner. [name] smiled before leaving her hiding spot. “Aoi, what am I going to do?”
“Hmmm~” Aoi thinks for a moment as she pointed at the cherry blossom at the distance. “How about confessing to her under the cherry tree from outside?”
Yashiro blushed. Thinking about confessing to [name] was already nerve-wracking. The problem is the result of the confession, the answer lies whether she's going to be rejected or accepted. “Should I really do it, Aoi?”
“We won't know unless you try, Nene-chan.”
'Are you really going to confess again?' Yashiro's inner voice asks her. The second thoughts of hers kept echoing in her mind and then she blinked. All of the negative thoughts were gone. “I'll try!” Yashiro cheered and Aoi clapped her hands happily.
”You can do it Nene-chan!”
Yashiro finally made her decision, she's going to confess to [name] on the cherry tree outside their classroom. There's no turning back and she would rather do this than hiding her feelings forever.
“I can't tell [name]-chan to meet her by the cherry tree...” Yashiro teared up while shakily holding the love letter, she was too shy to ask her and [name] might take the hint that Yashiro was going to confess. “Oh well, there's no turning back now...” she tucked the letter inside [name]'s locker and ran off to the cherry blossom tree to wait for her.
[name] got out of the classroom minutes after Yashiro puts her letter. [name] went to her shoe locker to change her shoes, but when she opened the locker door, a letter fell out. ‘Hm? A letter?’ she raised the letter to her face and checked the sides. ‘I guess this is addressed to me...’
The [hair color] haired female puts the letter inside her bag. She quickly ran outside to the cherry blossom to see her admirer. [name] tilted her head in confusion to see Yashiro standing there. “Ah, Yashiro-san.” [name] scratched her cheek as she walked over to the cream haired girl. “I assume that you're the person whom I'm going to meet here, right?”
Yashiro saw [name]'s smile again, she can feel her apple cheeks burning again and her heart beating faster. “There's something I wanted to tell you, [name]-chan...” she said, her voice was slightly cracking.
A huge gust of wind blew over them, carrying the petals of the cherry blossom along with the sway of their hair. Yashiro clasps her hands together near her chest and shouted out her feelings. “I like you, [name]-chan!” Yashiro confessed with tears brimming out of her ruby eyes, betraying her straightness right there. “Please go out with me...”
[name] stood there speechless at Yashiro's confession, she assumed that the cream haired girl was attracted to prince-like males like Teru Minamoto. “B-But Yashiro-san, I'm just a normal girl.” [name] stuttered out. “I-I'm not like those prince charming that you always fantasize about!”
“So?” Yashiro asked in verge of tears. “Even if you're not those, I still like you despite of that!”
Yashiro couldn't handle this anymore and by the looks of it the confession wasn't running smoothly. Yashiro tried to runaway to hide her tears until [name] caught her hand. “Wait!” [name] yelled out.
[name] saw that Yashiro was crying after that confession. “Yashiro-san...” [name] gently holds her hand, preventing the cream haired girl from running away. “Don't go...” she croaked out.
“[name]...?” Yashiro stared at her, thinking why did [name] stop her from going. [name] teared up also, still holding Yashiro's hand with hers.
[name] mustered up a tearful smile and confessed also. “I have always liked you Yashiro-san...” she said.
Yashiro couldn't believe what [name] just said. Did she just say that she likes her too? [name] likes her back? Yashiro cried even more and smiled. “R-Really?”
“Mhmm.” [name] and Yashiro felt happy now that they both confessed that they liked each other. “It's true that I like you Yashiro-san, and I want to go out with you too.”
Yashiro immediately hugged [name] which the latter returned the affection. “I'm so glad.” Yashiro softly cried, the person she had a crush on is finally hers, it seemed impossible that [name] would like her back, but the supernaturals lingering around the school looked so real, then maybe anything is possible after all.
Yashiro and [name] pecked each others lips, pulling away with a smile now that they shared their kiss. “Nene-chan, wanna go on a date this Saturday?” [name] suggests.
“Of course.” Yashiro laced their fingers together as they walked back to their houses. This is one of the fantasies that Yashiro had dreamed of, being [name]'s girlfriend. There's nothing more she can ask for other than this realistic serenity she's feeling right now.
#jibaku shounen hanako kun#tbhk#fluff#yashiro nene#nene yashiro#tbhk yashiro#yashiro nene x reader#tbhk nene#Yashiro#jshk#jshk yashiro#yashiro x reader#nene yashiro x reader#nene x reader
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Thank you dear Anon for your request! Also because, I had already started writing a possible sequel on my own, your request arrives perfectly!
Note: I imagined these events after the one-shot you find here. In any case there are only subtle references.
35- Tokyo Ghoul- Uta x human!Reader (pt. 2)
"Beyond the Mask"
Uta sees you there, curled up in the chair in front of the table like a wet little bird, despite the fact that you are now wearing his warm clothes, which fall softly on your frightened figure. He doesn't mind lending it to you, on the contrary, he tried to find something that wasn't too extravagant, coming out with a heavy black sweatshirt and wide gray pants. He thought that this clothing could help you put yourself at ease, but he also understands that being wrapped in his clothes for you doesn't have to be so reassuring. You probably accepted this only to avoid being immersed in the nauseating humidity of the body fluids that stick to your skin.
He can't tell if your following him was a sign of courage or fear. You didn't say anything, and the few words you whispered were kind; you also thanked him. It almost seems like you are straining to try to be calm, but it's the small, meaningless gestures that betray you. Earlier you insisted that he be the first to shower and change, although it would have been more logical for you to go first; yet perhaps for you that was a way to get the killer monster out of sight, or at least partially forget it.
Uta is unable to understand you right now, nor does he really pretend to, he is already grateful enough that you are intelligent enough to understand that it would be almost suicidal to return to your home in the condition you were in, especially after what it happened.
No, he doesn't pretend to understand you, but to understand himself a little more, yes. Uta is a labyrinth, with a thousand streets inside, which intersect and cancel each other out. A thousand paradoxical streets where after a turning point you can find someone completely different than the person you met. Yet all those roads are authentic and sincere, in their sweetness or in their violence.
He is aware of this, it is clear to him, but as the owner of his soul he should know how to pull the strings, understand what is happening inside. Yet he doesn't know now, or he can't really explain it.
He feels sadness, a deep sadness to see you so small and afraid. He would like to hope your snuggling up to him in that alley was dictated by mutual trust and not despair, but he doesn't even know if you're aware of that. He doesn't really want you to be scared of him, but at the same time he sees no way to stop it.
He also feels angry with you. Because deep down he knows that you are unconsciously judging him. The same fear you evidently feel makes him angry. He didn't eat you, right? So why do you have to be so scared in front of him? It was you who ran into his arms, wasn't it?
Yet he still can't tell you that, because you are doing absolutely nothing threatening towards him. You simply indulge him timidly, tremblingly accepting his care that will never be able to reassure you.
Maybe you've never really felt as confident in him as Uta hoped. Being in his house, first naked in his bathroom and now in his clothes maybe it wouldn't have been pleasant for you even if he had been human, let alone now with all the terror you've accumulated… after what you saw.
Uta is the author and accomplice of things that you would consider horrible, it is his nature, he is not able to change, he needs that to feel alive.
But you also make him feel alive. He likes that cordial, playful confidence that you take with him, the one that remains within limits, but which somehow transmitted the affection of a kind heart; like that time, when you playfully smeared his nose with red paint with the brush you were using. You apologized right away, but you laughed happily and enjoyed watching him, and Uta liked it, so much that he returned the favor with some yellow color.
You are spontaneous, and he likes it, even if now this spontaneity of yours is pulling you away from him, even though you try to pretend it isn't.
In the end, he really wants to take care of you. But how can he do it? He can't even really offer you anything other than a cup of bitter coffee.
He looks for a moment at his own reflection in the dark drink, so indistinct and blurry, before placing the cup on the shelf in front of you slowly.
You look at him suddenly, as if you have just woken up. Uta smiles kindly at you: he has always been kind to you. You smile at him too, but he could swear that you only do it to please him, for fear of a negative reaction from him.
He would really like to sit in front of you, so he can talk as you do every time you meet in the coffee shop, but he instead leans against the wall with his back, a wall quite far from your warmth and your presence. He too has a hot cup in his tattooed hands, but he doesn't really want coffee; maybe he just hoped that if he drank something familiar to you - something that didn't speak your language before he was devoured - you would trust again.
You take a sip, probably more out of politeness than out of desire, and your expression turns into a small involuntary pout as you perceive the bitterness of the coffee on your tongue.
Uta would find it funny if it weren't for the whole situation.
"I'm sorry…" his quiet voice of him draws your attention to himself. He doesn't really know what he's apologizing for. "I have no ... sugar ..."
The relaxed musicality of his voice is slightly cracked by uncertainty.
He has no sugar to console you, no regular sugar at least. It's already strange that he got the coffee. He never really welcomes real guests, only customers, now that he thinks about it; there are rare times when he really has to welcome someone outside of his "business", generally speaking.
You do not answer immediately, your gaze cannot help wandering over his figure, his body, his chest and his abdomen.
He smooths his baggy black sweater, as if to make you realize he's noticing your eyes, and then take a sip from his cup.
"Don't worry, it's okay ..." you assure "in the end ... I like to try new things ..."
Are you talking about sugar?
Your voice is a twitter that leaves him with vague hope. Are you trying to tell him something?
He's not really afraid of you going around talking, you told him you wouldn't and he knows you won't. You are not that different from Renji in this.
You turn the cup over in your fingers, looking at that dark liquid, and then turn to him again.
"Don't ... want to sit down?"
You ask him shyly, as if you feared rejection, but you asked him anyway.
You amaze him, of course. That is a little melancholy surprise, your calling him close, your giving him a little illusion of closeness.
But do you really want him there?
With a nod he slowly approaches, as if he is approaching a wounded animal - or prey - and he slowly sits in front of you.
The cups of coffee that nobody wants look at each other, placed in front, close together, like when you happen to meet at the end of the day in the cafe. It was a good time for Uta, he enjoyed pretending that there were no Ghouls and Humans, silenced his hunger so attracted to you and focused on the pleasure of your presence as if you were no different.
But now the charade is over, you two are not alike, and for some reason it hurts him.
Your gaze rests docile on his face, and he smiles lightly.
He is beautiful, you really think so. In a way, those red and black eyes are the only ones that fit him. Uta is not of an objective beauty, he must like him, and you really like him.
"You know..." your murmur puts him on alert "I ... I hear the news but ... it's hard to think that it could happen to you, when you hear about ghouls ..."
"It didn't happen to you."
His calm voice stops you immediately, and despite his flat tone makes you feel accused. He didn't hurt you, you can't say he's your turn. If anything, he is the turn of your tormentor.
"I ... no ... I meant that I had never thought of meeting one ..."
You justify shy, and he realizes he scared you. You're probably thinking that the first misstep you take will automatically become his next meal.
His lips press in a thin line, while he looks at you calmly.
"We are not that rare, you know ..."
He informs you, understanding that you would never speak if he remained silent.
There were ghouls even more integrated into human society than he. You were kind of his exception to him, his regular break from his violent life, even though he still had other human connections.
"Do you want to eat me?"
The question comes out suddenly, interrupting any flow of thought. It is less insecure than you thought, but deep down you both know that that's the core of it all.
He looks you straight in the eye, without giving in to the gaze and somehow gluing your pupils into his.
He could tell you that if he had wanted he would have done it already, he could say many things, yet he doesn't want to lie, he owes you and you owe it to him.
"It would be nice."
His voice is kind of calming despite the harshness of those words. As scary as they are, you don't react, and let him talk again.
"But it would also be extremely sad for me."
His tattooed fingers twirl around the slowly cooling cup, and you wonder if his heart has started beating a little faster, like yours, despite his mute expression.
"As tempting as eating you may be ... it would be very sad not to see you again."
A spark suddenly lights up in your eyes, it's so beautiful and bright that Uta opens his lips slightly in amazement, seeing that little light in you, so unexpectedly. He can't say if it is the hope of being able to live still that ignited it or that unspoken admission of affection, but that's okay with him.
"Would you be sad, Uta?"
You ask with a voice covered with expectations. He does not know how it happened, but it seems that your focus has shifted to something else, so suddenly.
Your cheeks just blush, and you smile as you look down at your hands. That smile isn't for him, it's for you. Uta wasn't hoping to see you smile again, yet there you were, wrapped in his baggy clothes smiling genuinely, as if you had suddenly forgotten the fear.
Your fingers intertwine in front of the cup, and your face doesn't dare lift up on him, but this time it's not fear that stops you.
“A Ghoul… sure, I had to know. In fact, in the end I knew it. Being a human would have been too trivial for you. "
Take another sip of coffee, and this time you commit yourself to putting up with the bitterness, even if you don't quite succeed.
Uta allows himself a slight amused smile.
"Oh yes?"
His is a rhetorical question that you just nod.
He drinks too, plunging both of you into a less heavy silence, but which still lingers in Uta's mind doubts that he would like to silence.
"Now where will you go?"
He is used to those he cares about disappearing far away. It wouldn't be new to see you walk away from him, he's not really hoping to be able to hold you back, despite what you said. Life simply changes people, and with them the world, he is aware of it, as he is aware of the fact that after this night the world between you two has changed, and as always you will be the one to change with it, while he will remain there, immobile.
"Do you want ... I have to go home?"
You ask confused, glancing towards the door. Night out scares you, you prefer the wolf's lair more than the dark and unpredictable shadows of the dark hours.
You didn't understand what he meant, how could you? Yet somehow Uta expected you to do it, he expected you to tell him this was goodbye. Yeah, is this goodbye?
"No, you don't have to go home if you don't want to ..."
It's hard to ask you to stay, to really stay. It is difficult to ask you to stay with him, because if you refused it would be a defeat, if you felt forced you would no longer be you.
“So you can't eat the food? Normal food I say ... so the idea of inviting you to lunch is out of the question. "
Your words break the melancholy in his mind again. He looks at you, his head slightly bent towards his right shoulder:
"Did you want to invite me to lunch?"
You wonder if it's really that surprising that you had such an idea. Should you be ashamed of it? Maybe this is inappropriate for him?
"I wanted. I mean, I've thought about it. It seemed nice to me. "
It seemed nice to you. You were cute, Uta often thought that. Here it is again, your gentle affection; it would have been a problem to refuse you if you really asked him to share lunch. He had never gotten used to pretending to eat human food, even though he tolerated smells quite well by now.
“Anyway, that's a kind thought of you. Thank you."
Without the glasses, his expression is even more gentle. It seems paradoxical, compared to the figure of him, but still, Uta is so unique.
"Not very kind if it kills you."
You mutter to yourself, looking away in embarrassment. In fact, now that you really know he's a ghoul a lot of your talk may no longer make sense.
"No ..." you hear him chuckle slightly, lightly and yet amused "we don't die so easily unfortunately for you ... I'd end up feeling extremely bad."
Suddenly the argument between you lightens up without either of you really noticing. He feels it, almost palpable, the boulder in his chest becoming light at the sound of curiosity that colors your voice as you confirm that you understand: it is the same curiosity as when you ask him questions about his masks, the colors he uses or his tattoos, he clearly recognizes it, which has now almost become part of both of you.
"I have so much to ask you, Uta" you admit, smiling at him fondly "but for now, thank you for everything you've done."
His nonexistent brows go up, looking at you as if he's asking if you were serious. But you did, sure, he knew.
"Thanks to you for bringing me dinner downstairs."
Uta doesn't mince words, he never did, and it was something you loved. He was always contemptuous and edgy in his calm and delicacy of him, it was a humor all of him, no one could ever look like Uta.
He makes you laugh, despite the macabre implied, and he's happy. He feels lighter, freer, and this seems to apply to you too.
One of his laboriously painted hands moves towards your face. He doesn't even notice, it's a gesture dictated by instinct, from his heart. Only when he's about to touch your cheek does he freeze, dumbfounded as to what to do, wondering in his head what the hell he was doing, why he did it.
He fears to see you retract at his touch, fears to see you hide and still does not understand why he fears so much the rejection of a human, a human who should be food and who instead twists his stomach with just a look.
He tries to retreat first, before it's late, but your hands stop him.
His fingers are now squeezed between yours, tenderly, as you tenderly bring them to your face. The hand that presses on his back is warmer than his skin, but the one that squeezes his palm has frozen fingertips, he feels them pinch against his skin. In yet another gesture of care for you, his fingers close on yours, to warm them.
And while you hold him he holds you, you hold both of you, and he knows you don't know him, that you haven't seen the dark side of him yet nor does he know if he will ever have the courage to show it to you, but for now that's okay .
Now he's no longer alone in his charade with you. You are no longer his audience, you are the actor who responds to his sentences in front of that cruel world. But luckily now, behind the scenes, his mask is no longer needed.
"I promise I'll take you for a better coffee tomorrow."
"I accept with great pleasure."
#uta tokyo ghoul#tokyo ghoul#tokyo ghoul x reader#uta x human reader#uta x reader#anime oneshot#oneshot#Tokyo ghoul oneshot
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"Black Magic" *Part 3*
Alright y'all this took me ALL day to write [the entire rest of the story] and it took me an hour and a half to just edit this chapter. So I HOPE you like it. I had to find a breaking point it was getting too long, but the next chapter is coming like...maybe 30 minutes.
EEK!!!
Part 4
Part 2
Tag List
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@gibbs274
@chasingeverybreakingwave
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@stars-in-the-skies-world
@omgsuperstarg
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After saying goodbye to Maria and the kids Rafael took your hand and you both got in another Uber he had called.
“So where to now?” You asked.
“Well we're going to need somewhere to get this food,” he smiled. “So I'm taking you to my favorite place in the city,”
Soon enough the Uber pulled up in front of Central park. We both got out and walked to the front entrance.
“Central Park is your favorite place in the city?” You asked. “Kind of basic but okay,” you teased.
“Shut up,” he laughed, punching you in the arm playfully. “Wait until you see what part of Central Park.” He took your hand and you walked for a bit until you came across a fountain.
“I mean it's gorgeous but still kind of basic,” you teased some more.
“This is where we're eating lunch carino,” he told you. “The surprise comes after,”
You set up camp on the edge of the fountain and spread out the food. It was enough for a feast. Luckily Maria had included napkins, plates , silverware and sneakily enough she snuck in an old blanket that you could spread out.
“Oh my god.. this is so good,” You said in between mouthfuls of food.
“I told you,” he laughed through a mouthful of his own food.
“No like you don't understand. I've never had food this good,” You insisted.
“Oh no? The fancy lunches from work, not your style?” He smirked.
You stopped eating for a second. Had he really noticed that you took home whatever food the bigwigs never finished? It was kind of a detail that you never had guessed that he would even pay attention to.
“I have no idea what you're talking about,” You innocently replied.
“Sureee…” Rafael nodded with a smile.
“I'm sorry, please don't fire me,” You begged.
“Fire you? I think it's adorable. Trust me I would do the same thing back in my law school days when I had nothing,” He patted your shoulder.
“God do I hear that,” You agreed.
“Wait so you have nothing?” Rafael asked, concerned.
“What? No! Kind of…..I have enough.” You assured him.” It's not like I'm homeless or anything.” Oh my God this is getting worse. “I just mean like, back when I was in college I had even less than I have now.”
“Oh you went to college?” Rafael asked.
“Wow okay counselor I see where the snobbishness is coming back,” You acted offended. And you actually kind of were.
"Oh no no no, mi amor,” He put a hand on your knee, scared he had offended you. “Please don't think that I would ever think down of you. I think you are the most beautiful, smartest caring person in the world.”
He didn't even know you. That was definitely the spell. You sadly shrugged” it's fine,”
“No no what I meant.. I don't know I don't know what I meant,” He shook his head, blushing.
“Yeah you do it's fine you can say it Rafael I'm not going to get offended,” You assured him.
“I just meant... I don't know, or don't understand why somebody with a college degree would be temping, instead of using their degree for a job in their field. I seriously doubt you went to college for temping,”
“Well I don't know if you remember this since it was eons ago before you had money but living in New York is quite expensive.” You half laughed. "And when you have student loans to pay you kind of have to take what you can get even if it's not in your ‘field’,”
“I get it,” He nodded. “I totally get where you're coming from. I'm so sorry I offended you,”
“You know before today I would have stomped off and written you off as just the snob pompous asshole that I thought you were. But after seeing where you came from I know you really mean that,” You smiled.
“So…” he hoped to change the subject. “What exactly is your degree in? Something law related I assume?”
“Why do you assume that?”
“Well.. usually the people that apply to be my intern are only interested in kissing my ass and getting ahead in the lawyer corporate world. But you haven't done that.. Yet,” He raised an eyebrow with a smirk.
“Oh.. yeah.”. you look down at the ground nervously.
“What are you going to kiss my ass now? Because I'll gladly let you do it,” He smiled cheekily.
“No no!” You waved your hands. “I mean that would be nice but--I mean no, what?” You were flustered.
“You're adorable when you're flustered,” He rubbed your bright red cheeks.
“Haha,” you pushed a hair behind your ear. You thought to yourself “Well he's not going to remember any of this anyway so you might as well tell him the truth,”
“Truth is.. I may or may not have manipulated the system to beat out those other snobby law students to get this job,” You admitted, still looking down.
“Really…?” He looked at you suspiciously. “...And why’s that?
“...Because I saw your picture on the file and I thought you were gorgeous and I wanted to see that face everyday,” You blushed intensely, still looking at the ground, not able to tell him in his face..
There was a very long pause and then he put a hand on yours. You slowly looked up at him and he was smiling cutely.
“That is the most adorable thing I've ever heard in my life,” He grinned.
“Really? You think so?” Well obviously he thought so he was programmed to think whatever you did for the adorable duh.
“Yeah I don't think I've ever had a woman try that hard to get my attention. Or want to see me that much, or even think that highly of me,” He grinned.
“I mean it's not really thinking highly of you, just that you’re really attractive,” You laughed.
“Right, of course,” He was blushing even more.
“And that was even before I saw your butt!” You laughed without thinking.. But he really did have the best ass you've ever seen in your entire life. Everyday you walked into that office you just wanted to take a bite of it.
Rafael choked on his food. “I um…” His face was red hot now.. “Thank you?”
“Anyway…” He tried to steer the conversation away from his butt. “You avoided the question,”
“What question?” You asked. Completely in all honestly forgetting what you were talking about. Once you got lost in Rafael's ass your mind kind of went blank completely.
“What iis your degree in?”
“It's embarrassing,” You looked at the ground.
“What? It can't be that bad,” He shook his head.
“Well I say it's embarrassing to someone like you,” You half laughed.
“Someone like me?” He looked offended. “What iis that supposed to mean?”
“I mean I don't.. I mean the person that I thought you were before today,” You grabbed his hand.
“Well you seem to have really disliked me before today,” he nodded curiously. “It's like you don't know me at all.”
“What? Of course I know you.” You assured him. "I love you, remember? And you love me?”
“Yeah.. I do, but I don't know anything about you,” He looked away as if he was trying to figure out an equation.
Oh shit. What's happening? Was this supposed to happen? Wasn't wearing off? Oh God.
“It's a theater degree!” you blurted out, trying to change the subject. Maybe it would work. If you distracted him maybe this would take over again.
He turned his head to the side and stared off blankly, as if he was rebooting. Then he looked up and smiled at you. “A theater degree? That sounds exciting!” He was back to his “usual self''..
You let out a sigh of relief. However, you wondered if you had gotten him out of the spell, would he have freaked out? Would he have accepted it? Would he maybe start having real feelings for you? Well, it was too late now.
“Does it really though?” You rolled your eyes.
“It really does. I don't know if you would believe this, but I'm kind of a theater nerd myself,” He chuckled.
“No way. You? Nahh,” You blew a raspberry.
“Seriously! I had a bit of a theater bug when I was younger in fact. I wanted to be a big Broadway star” He admitted.
You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Raphael Barba the stuffy ADA of New York City as a big Broadway star? Yeah right!
“That's insane! You laughed. So why did you give it up?”
“Well.. as you know, being on Broadway isn't a great way to make money. It's more of a passion thing right?”
“So true,” You nodded as you were eating your empanada dessert.
“So.. I took a hard look at where I lived, and how hard my mom and abuelita were struggling and I vowed that I would get out of El Barrio. And make something of myself and be able to take care of them when I was an adult the way that I couldn't when I was a kid,”
You felt tears choking your throat once again for the millionth time that day. But this time it wasn't for you. It was for him. You really hadn't known any of this, to you he was just a pretty face. You actually had a lot in common.
“That is so sweet.” You pushed the trash between you away and moved up closer, pulling his hands into your lap and looking at him endearingly.
“Yeah?” He asked you with a half smile like a kid looking for approval.
“Yeah it really is. You gave up your passion for your family. I wish I was as selfless as that,” You said softly.
“What do you mean?”
What did you mean indeed? Did you really want to get into the story? Then once again you reminded yourself that he would have no idea no recollection of this after today, so you felt comfortable telling him your secret.
“Well….. You.... I came from nothing too. But all I could think of was getting out myself and never looking back,” You admitted in shame.
“Oh?” He looked at you curiously.
“Yeah, I was really passionate about theater and becoming a big Broadway star. With all the fame, and the money, and getting away from my small town in Jersey. So I threw myself into every activity, every theater, every play, every community theater, every performance, anything I can get my hands on. My parents were super supportive and never thought anything bad of me, even though they probably should have. They wanted me to have the world. And I took that for granted,” You began to get choked up.
“Why do you say that…?” He took your hand and squeezed it feeling like something bad was coming.
“They saved up their entire married lives to give me a college fund. I wasn't aware of it, but when I got accepted to NYU School of acting, they told me that they had enough saved for the first two years,” You continued, trying to breathe.
“Well that's good isn't it?”
“Yeah no totally, except I wasn't grateful,” You look down tears stinging your eyes thinking about how selfish you are as a kid. All I could think about and yell at them was how they didn't have enough for the full four years. How was I supposed to be a big Broadway star if I was still trying to pay student loans?”
“Oh Y/N…”.
“Yeah and that's not even the worst part,” Tears started stinging your eyes. You were lucky he was under some spell because he would definitely hate you after this under normal circumstances.
“Go on, I'm not here to judge you,” He pressed his forehead against yours. He realized how hard the story was taking its toll on you.
“One day it was my big end of semester performance and it was snowing. So my parents said that they weren't going to be able to make it. I screamed at them and told them that this was the biggest night of my life, and they couldn't be bothered to show up and what horrible parents they were and that they never cared about me and a whole huge temper tantrum like a 3 year old.”
You tried holding back sobs you had to make it through this whole thing without breaking down.
“No, honey…” He put a hand on your face.
”And so they tried…” You sniffed. They tried driving on the icy roads of Jersey to drive into the City and they served on black ice in the Jersey tunnel where they hit the wall and were killed instantly.
“Oh my god.. he whispered, “Baby I'm so sorry,” He grabbed you in a hug as you broke down. You just sat there for a minute letting him hold you while you sobbed into his shoulder.
“I just told them what shitty parents they were!” You sobbed muffled into his shirt. "And I killed them!”
“Hey,” he pulled your face from his shirt and looked you in the eyes. “No no you didn't do anything,”
“Yes I did! If I hadn't been such a brat and told them and guilted them into coming to see my stupid show then they'd still be alive!” you kept sobbing.
“No,” he took your head in his hands. “Look I didn't know you back then but I'm sure that your parents loved you and I'm sure that you loved them. That's why you wanted them there so bad. And sometimes it's just people's time. You didn't do anything wrong. Do you understand me?”
“Yeah.. I guess so,” you looked down. “I mean I was punished enough for it”.
“What does that mean?”
“Well I mean, obviously I was distraught from my parents dying. And that semester was the last one that was paid for. So kind of lied to you,” You paused to look at him apologetically.
“I had to drop out one year after that because I could only get student loans for that next year. And you had to have a certain GPA to get them to keep paying for the last year and I most certainly did not have that,”
“Oh...carino, I'm so sorry”
“Then me being me the arrogant bitch that I am, I thought well maybe I don't need a degree. Tons of actors don't have degrees. They can just make it on their own. So I just started throwing myself into auditions for about a year and a half, and I ended up living on the streets because I refused to take any kind of job. Telling myself that I was going to get my big break and be famous,”
“Oh my God”
“I know, right?” You laughed through tears. “I'm so stupid,”
“Hey you are not stupid,” Rafael grabbed your hands again.
“Yeah well, the first temp agency that I applied to had the first job as a personal assistant to a fancy lawyer. So maybe I'm not that stupid,” you smiled.
“Ah.. see? Happy ending. Maybe you went through all that to find me,”
“Yeah.. maybe,” You sadly smiled at him.
Although you knew deep down in your heart that was bullshit, because you really didn't have him. All you did was take another shortcut and be selfish and tried to take him for yourself instantly without any of the work. You were still a selfish bitch. And he didn't know that
“You know...if it makes you feel any better, you are lucky to have such loving parents,”
“What do you mean? Didn't you say you gave up your dream to take care of them?” You assumed that must have meant they were super close.
“Yeah well, for my mom and abuela..”.
You suddenly realized he hadn't mentioned a father.
"Oh? I'm.... No dad?”
“No, no dad.” He shook his head sadly. “I wasn't completely honest with you earlier YN,”
“What do you mean?” You took his hand, already knowing this wasn't going to be good.
“I was forced to give up my dream,” he replied sadly while staring at the ground.
“What?”
“When I was a kid I would watch musicals at my abuelitas house. It was the only place I was….safe,” He continued.
“Oh God.” You muttered.
“I would dance and sing all over her house. She was the only person in my life who ever supported that side of me,” he continued to stare at the ground.
“When my dad came to pick me up one day and he saw what I was doing…. “ He stopped again, you realized he was trying not to cry.
“Rafa…..”
“He tried to "beat the gay out of me.",” You saw tears dripping on the pavement.
You silently gasped.
"Not that I'm gay,' he quickly assured you.
"That was literally the last thing on my mind baby," you shook your head, tears coming to your own eyes as you pulled him into a hug. He collapsed into tears as you rubbed the back of his neck and whispered comforting words into his ear.
Finally he composed himself enough to finish his story.
“Anyway, he uh...he didn't just beat me for that. It was anything really. But I kept at it at my abuelas. She encouraged me even if she couldn't stand up to my dad. I can't blame her or my mother. When my mom caught me still pursuing it she told me to stop if I wanted to keep our dad around saying he wouldn't tolerate a….f word son,"
“Oh my god.” You whispered. You couldn't imagine your parents or any parents really, trying to discourage their kids from anything, and threatening them for being something they were so passionate about.
“Well I guess it didn't matter either way because he ended up taking off anyway. And I felt so guilty that we lost our only income, so my mom had to end up getting two jobs and my abuela moved in to help with bills that then I swore to become better so that I could atone for my sins,” He couldn’t look at you.
“Oh my god. Rafa, sweetie I…. That wasn't your fault., it wasn't your fault at all. He sounds like a grade a asshole,” You made him look at you just as he did when you told your shameful story.
“He was...is. I don't know if he's dead or alive actually. I haven't seen or heard from him since he left. I hate him so much,” he clenched his fists.
“Oh honey,” You pressed a kiss to his forehead.
“No you don't understand. My middle name is Eduardo, named after him. So he's always with me. I have always told people it's Antonio, because I want nothing about me associated with him,” He started to cry again.
After a minute, he looked back up at you very seriously. “I've never told anyone that story.”
“Really? Not even Liv?”
"Not even Liv," He stroked your hair. "I've never felt as close to her as I do with you.” He pulled you into his lap. “The truth is Y/N I have never felt safe since my abuela’s house. Until I met you,”
“Rafa…” You pulled him into a deep kiss, tears dropped down both your faces. “We can be each other’s homes now,”
#rafael barba#rafael barba x you#rafael barba x reader#rafael barba imagine#rafael barba fanfiction#black magic#law and order svu
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Not me rewriting the ending to Mizumono only to have a much better idea halfway through so as soon as I finished the first one I started on the second
Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: Hannibal (TV)
Relationship: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Characters: Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter, Abigail Hobbs
Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Episode: s02e13 Mizumono, Smut, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Mild Blood, Rough Sex, Coming Untouched, Not Beta Read, Dark Will Graham
Language: English
Summary: “I need him to know.” Will looked into Hannibal’s eyes then, searching for the desperation he could hear in his words. “If I confessed to Jack Crawford now, you think he would forgive me?”
“I would forgive you.” It’s clear that Hannibal’s not talking about the murder, but the betrayal. He would still forgive Will for conspiring against him. “If Jack were to tell you all is forgiven, Will, would you accept his forgiveness?” The double meaning is apparent. Hannibal was asking Will if he would go with him knowing that Hannibal would forgive him. It’s an invitation. One that Will wasn’t sure he wanted to decline.
“Jack isn't offering forgiveness.” Hannibal wanted to say “I am”, but he didn't. “He wants justice. He wants to see you. See who you are. See who I've become. Know the truth.” Will takes another sip of his wine and Hannibal accepts his defeat. He really hadn’t wanted to hurt Will, but it seemed that it would be the only option.
“Still, I suppose we don’t owe Jack that do we?” Will spoke again.
Notes: Okay, I know I rewrote the ending of Mizumono yesterday, but I had this idea while I wrote it and I couldn't help myself.
“Do you know what an imago is, Will?” Hannibal asked.
“It's a flying insect,” Will replied.
“It's the final stage of a transformation. Maturity.”
“When you become who you will be,” Will said, catching on to the point Hannibal was making.
“It's also a term from the dead religion of psychoanalysis. An imago is an image of a loved one buried in the unconscious, carried with us all our lives.”
“An ideal.”
“The concept of an ideal always searching for an objective reality to match. I have a concept of you just as you have a concept of me.”
“Neither of us are ideal,” Will says after taking a long drink of his wine. Hannibal considered what Will had just said for a moment. He had nearly trusted an ideal. He thought that Will would leave with him until he smelled Freddie Lounds on him. Perhaps Will was right, neither of them were ideal.
“We are both too curious about too many things for any ideals.” Hannibal paused a moment, feeling a twinge of hesitation for what he was about to ask. It was completely out of character for Hannibal to grovel, but in recent weeks he had grown accustomed to the idea of running away with Will, and he wasn’t quite ready to give the fantasy up. “Is it ideal that Jack die?”
Will matched Hannibal’s pause. Most would not even notice the hesitation, but Hannibal did.
“It's necessary. What happens to Jack has been preordained.” Will’s voice was cold, free from any emotion. In any other circumstance Hannibal would be proud of how well he schooled his expression, but now it just frustrated him.
“We could disappear now. Tonight. Feed your dogs. Leave a note for Dr. Bloom, never see her or Jack Crawford again. Almost polite,” Hannibal was nearly begging now and Will knew it. Their eyes locked and at once Will understood. Hannibal knew and he was willing to forgive.
“That'd make this our last supper,” Will said, considering Hannibal’s offer. Now, just days away from the sting that he and Jack had planned, Will still wasn’t sure whose side he was really on. Part of him wanted to be good, he wanted to atone for his sins and clear his name for good, because even though he had been acquitted, there were still those who believed he had actually killed all those people.
The other part of him wanted to become what everyone thought him to be. Though he hated to admit it, he had felt a thrill as he killed and mutilated Randall Tier. Even worse was that now thinking about that feeling didn’t make him feel guilty or sick, only enhanced the adrenaline.
If he was being completely honest, half of the thrill was seeing how Hannibal looked at him when he knew what Will had done. The subtle adoration and pride that he was no doubt allowing Will to see. Hannibal’s gaze made Will feel things, things that he had never felt with anyone before, and he wanted to chase that feeling.
“Of this life. I am serving lamb.”
“Sacrificial? Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.” Will snorted.
“I freely claim my sin. I don't need a sacrifice. Do you?”
“I need him to know.” Will looked into Hannibal’s eyes then, searching for the desperation he could hear in his words. “If I confessed to Jack Crawford now, you think he would forgive me?”
“I would forgive you.” It’s clear that Hannibal’s not talking about the murder, but the betrayal. He would still forgive Will for conspiring against him. “If Jack were to tell you all is forgiven, Will, would you accept his forgiveness?” The double meaning was apparent. Hannibal was asking Will if he would go with him knowing that Hannibal would forgive him. It’s an invitation. One that Will wasn’t sure he wanted to decline.
“Jack isn't offering forgiveness.” Hannibal wanted to say “I am”, but he didn't. “He wants justice. He wants to see you. See who you are. See who I've become. Know the truth.” Will takes another sip of his wine and Hannibal accepts his defeat. He really hadn’t wanted to hurt Will, but it seemed that it would be the only option.
“Still, I suppose we don’t owe Jack that do we?” Will spoke again. Hannibal perked up almost imperceptibly.
“Perhaps a note will be sufficient. I didn’t want to leave the dogs alone, but they’ll be fine for a while. Knowing Jack he’ll send a cruiser to my place within an hour after I don’t show up in the morning.”
“Let us prepare then. I would like to be out of the country before Jack realizes that you are no longer his man on the inside.” Hannibal stood and began gathering plates to bring to the kitchen because of course he would want to leave the house spotless. Will helped him with the dishes and wiping everything down. They caught eyes several times, both revving with the anticipation of what was to come. Will considered apologizing for his conspiracy, but when he looked into Hannibal’s eyes he knew he was already forgiven.
It was a little intoxicating to know that he had this kind of control over hannibal. To know that he made Hannibal beg. He wondered how else he could compel him to beg. That was, once they stopped dancing around the physical aspect of their relationship and finally just fucked like they both wanted to.
Once they were finished they retired to the study to write a note. Hannibal wandered around, collecting particular books and knick knacks that he wanted to bring while Will drafted a note. After much thinking and many balled up pieces of paper, Will finally got it right. When he finished, he handed it to Hannibal to read.
“This will do nicely,” Hannibal said. He slipped the letter into an envelope and sealed it with blood red wax and a stamp that bore his initials.
Will watched as the wax dripped. The flow of the thick liquid was giving him all sorts of dirty thoughts. Thoughts of Hannibal pouring that warm liquid all over his body. Thoughts of being covered in other kinds of red liquid. Will had to take a deep breath to steady himself and bring some blood back up to his head.
When the wax had dried, Hannibal handed the letter to Will, fingers brushing against Will’s skin tenderly.
“I have a surprise for you,” Hannibal said, hand coming to grip Will’s wrist.
“Oh?” Will replied.
“Come with me.” Hannibal led Will upstairs, never letting go of his wrist. Will had only been to the upper floor of Hannibal’s house a few times, and never in the dark, so he didn’t really know where they were going. He had two ideas, one much more enticing than the other, but both equally likely.
As it turned out, neither of his assumptions were correct. Hannibal led him to a closed door at the end of the hallway and knocked.
“May we come in?” He asked. Will didn’t even have time to question who was in there before the door was being opened from the inside. Standing in the doorway was none other than Abigail Hobbs.
“Hi Will,” She said, a small smile playing on her chapped lips.
“Abigail?” Will asked, voice barely audible. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Had Hannibal drugged him? Was he hallucinating?
“How are you here? You’re dead,” Will said.
“Not dead, just misplaced,” Hannibal replied, “they never found a body, well, not a whole body at least. It was merely a charade.”
Abigail tucked her hair back to show Will the flesh where her ear had been. It was healed over by now, but it still brought a wave of bile up in Will’s throat.
“You’ve been here this whole time?” Will asked, choking down the anger that was building in him. There was no sense getting angry now, especially when he was teetering on the edge of a new beginning.
“I’m sorry,” Abigail said, tears welling in her eyes.
“I forgive you,” Will said. Abigail took two big steps forward and wrapped her arms around Will’s middle, burying her tears in his shirt. He brought a hand to her hair and stroked, both soothing her and assuring himself that she was really there and really alive.
“Thank you,” Will whispered to Hannibal. He wasn’t sure what he was thanking him for. Maybe for keeping Abigail alive, maybe for bringing him to her, maybe just because he didn’t know what else to say.
Hannibal’s hand came to rest between Will’s shoulder blades, fingertips shooting electricity down his spine.
“I do not wish to rush you two, but we must be going,” Hannibal said, “there is still much for us to do and little time to do it.”
Abigail pulled back from Will and wiped her eyes on her sleeve, sniffling a few times.
“Will, would you care to help me pack?” Hannibal asked.
“Yeah, sure.” Will cast one last glance at Abigail before following Hannibal to his bedroom.
“Everything in that top drawer must come,” Hannibal said as he set a large suitcase on the bed. Will began transferring the carefully folded garments from the dresser to the suitcase while Hannibal sorted through his suits to find the ones he liked best.
Will and Hannibal's hands brushed for what felt like the 500th time that night as they both attempted to place clothing in the suitcase at the same time. Their eyes met and there was a moment of contemplation before they pounced.
Will dragged Hannibal to the floor and straddled him, hands balling up around fistfulls of Hannibal’s jacket as he pressed their lips together. Hannibal kissed back with equal fervour, hands sliding back to cup Will’s ass. Will moaned into the kiss and rutted his hips against Hannibals. Hannibal bit Will’s lip, not stopping until he drew blood.
They broke away, panting and breathing each other in. Hannibal brought one hand to Will’s cheek and stroked, the pad of his thumb brushing over Will’s parted lips. Will sucked the digit into his mouth, tongue lapping at the sensitive skin.
Will ground his hips down, ass rubbing against Hannibal’s rapidly hardening cock. The older man stared up at him in wonder, lips parted and eyes blown wide. He withdrew his hand, swiping his thumb along the bleeding cut on Will’s lip until the skin was stained red. Then he brought it to his own mouth, his eyes rolling back as he savored the metallic taste of his lover’s blood.
“You taste divine Will,” Hannibal said, deep voice sending tremors through Will’s body. That was it, that was the breaking point for Will.
“Take your fucking clothes off,” He demanded as he scrambled off of Hannibal to remove his own clothes.
“Such crass language,” Hannibal scolded, clicking his tongue disapprovingly, “whatever should I do about that?”
Hannibal was trying his best to regain some of the power he had lost in this exchange. Will would let him believe that he did, if only to sate his ego, but Will knew deep down that he was in control. He had known since before Hannibal had pleaded with him that he was in control here. Hannibal had several layers to his persona. The first was the polite, yet slightly eccentric doctor who loved good food and opera, behind that was the calculating psychopath cold, and emotionless. His true personality was hidden deep within himself, but Will was able to see it, after all, he had not yet met a person he couldn’t read.
The person that Hannibal truly was was driven by his emotions. Anger and hurt bubbled under his skin, suppressed by years of burying everything akin to a feeling deep below the surface. He was intensely narcissistic and hedonistic. Everything he did was to fulfill his desires. He ate to satiate his hunger, he killed to assuage a compulsion. He acted solely in his own self interests, and right now Will was his interest. That gave Will ultimate power over Hannibal. He wanted Will in every sense of the word, and would do nearly everything to have him.
Perhaps what solidified Will’s control was the fact that he was aware of this while Hannibal wasn’t. Hannibal had spent so much effort repressing feelings that he genuinely believed that they were never there in the first place. Will knew about Hannibal’s nature, not from the beginning, no he was fooled like everyone else at first, but certainly longer than he let on. He only raised the issue with Jack when he was in danger.
Will put on the facade of being overly emotional, of being unstable, but deep down he was something different entirely. That’s why he was so good at “faking” the coldness he showed with Hannibal, it was never fake, the emotions were fake, and Hannibal was none the wiser. This was Will’s game and Hannibal was barely aware he was playing.
“Will?” Hannibal asked, pulling Will from his thoughts. He kneeled in front of him, now fully nude, his erection jutting out proudly from a bed of well trimmed blonde curls.
“Fuck me,” Will insisted, trying to pass his momentary spacyness off as fascination with the admittedly impressive cock that hung between Hannibal’s legs.
“As you wish.” Yes, as Will wishes. Hannibal will do exactly as Will wishes.
Will doesn’t wait for any more negotiations. He turns around and sinks to his elbows, thighs spread wide to accommodate Hannibal. He heard the older man’s breath catch as Will displayed himself.
“Oh Will, you truly are exquisite. Beauty incarnate.” Hannibal mused. Will watched between his legs as Hannibal reached into the bedside table for a bottle of lube. Hannibal poured the lube onto his fingers, then pressed them to Will’s hole, tracing the rim to get it nice and wet.
Will buried his face in his crossed arms to stifle a moan. The last thing he needed was for Hannibal to know exactly how sensitive he actually was and to exploit that fact. They didn’t have much time and Will was really just looking to be fucked.
Finally, one finger breached Will. It slid in with little resistance and Hannibal added a second. His thumb came to press against Will’s perineum as he scissored his fingers. Will let out a choked sob when Hannibal’s other hand tangled in his hair and pulled his head up sharply.
“I want to hear you Will. I want to hear exactly how much you like this.”
“God, just fuck me already Hannibal,” Will begged, “I’m ready, just get in me.”
Hannibal withdrew his fingers at once. Will didn’t even have a chance to get a word out before Hannibal was pressing his cock inside.
“There you go sweet boy, taking my cock so well, like you were made for it. Like you were born to take me.”
Will had never heard Hannibal speak so lewdly before, but he liked it more than he would ever care to admit. Not that he even could right now with Hannibal thrusting into him with punishing force, hitting his prostate every time.
Hannibal still had one hand in Will’s hair. The other was gripping his hip so tight he would undoubtedly have finger shaped bruises in the morning. He brought his lips down to Will’s shoulder, placing a few gentle kisses there, and that would simply not do. Will needed him to be rough, he needed to be fucked hard.
“Harder,” Will grunted, “come on Hannibal, you can do better than that. Do it like I know you want to. Hurt me.”
“Are you sure you can handle it?” Hannibal panted.
“Fuck yes, give it to be Hannibal, fucking ruin me.”
Hannibal complied immediately, using all of the force he could to pound into Will like he was trying to split him clean in half. He bit down hard on Will’s shoulder, just short of drawing blood.
Will rocked back to meet every thrust, letting out a litany of pathetic noises that he probably should have been embarrassed about. Hannibal was groaning now too, grunting like a beast in Will’s ear as he shoved in impossibly deeper.
Will’s orgasm was so sudden, he didn’t even feel it coming. In an instant his body went rigid as white hot pleasure coiled in his abdomen and he came completely untouched.
After coming for what felt like hours, he dropped to the floor, thighs shaking too hard to support himself any longer.
Once he had caught his breath, Will rolled over onto his back and spread his legs.
“Keep going,” he told Hannibal, “I want you to use me to make yourself come.”
Hannibal didn’t need to be told twice before sliding back into Will. He hoisted the younger man’s knees up over his shoulders to get a better angle as he slammed in over and over again.
At last, Hannibal gave a final hard thrust and spilled inside Will, coating his insides with his seed. He pulled out and laid on the floor next to him, breathing hard and trembling.
“I would have run away with you a long time ago if I had known that was in store for me,” Will panted, struggling to sit up.
“If I saw you every day, forever, Will, I would remember this time,” Hannibal said, reaching over to brush a lock of curly hair behind his ear.
Will smiled and kissed Hannibal again. It was softer this time, full of much more affection, especially on Hannibal’s behalf.
“I would sit here with you for eternity Will, but I fear that we must leave soon. We would not want to keep Abigail waiting.” Hannibal said when they pulled away.
“Of course, but first will you promise me something?”
“What is it that you desire?”
“Do that again as soon as we get to wherever we’re going.” Hannibal grinned and cupped Will’s cheek.
“I would gladly have you every day, my dear Will.”
Notes: Listen, we all know who's actually in control and this relationship and it's not Hannibal "Simp" Lecter.
#hannibal#hannigram#hannibal lecter#will graham#abigail hobbs#smut#fanfic#ao3#hannigram fic#hannibal fanfiction#mizumono#2.13
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❛ FALLIN' ALL IN YOU ❜
Songfic with ‘Fallin' all in you’ by Shawn Mendes.
with Jackson ‘Jax’ Teller.
Request: Hellooo love!! How are You?? Hope You good💕 could I request a jax teller x reader? Jax propose to the reader and then they have a wedding and some smutt!! Thank you honeeeyyy💕💕💕 love your work!! Just keep going💗 You are amazing🥰
BY ANON
The marriage proposal.
Warnings: none, fluff af.
Word count: about 1.7k
Aurora says: I didn't write the smut part because I thought that didn't fit in. this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!
Gif credits: to the author.
Masterlist.
Sunrise with you on my chest. No blinds in the place where I live, daybreak, open your eyes. This was only ever meant to be for one night. Still, we're changing our minds here. Be yours, be my dear.
Today is the day. Today is the day when you're going to marry your best friend, your partner in crime, the love of your life, the best man you could ever know. And even if it's supposed that the night before you shouldn't sleep together, you don't believe in superstition. You two wanted to wake up as a couple to go to sleep as a married couple. Your nose caresses his, purring as he closes his arms tightly around your body. One of your hands tour his neck slowly, with the tip of your fingers running over his skin and flooding on his lips, gently and sleepy kissing them. One second after, his mouth meets yours with a soft move before opening his eyes.
“You on time to run away”. He whispers with a hoarse and deep tone of voice.
“You too”. You chuckle sinking your face under his chin.
“I love you, darling”.
“I love you more, Jackie boy”.
So close with you on my lips, touch noses, feeling your breath. Push your heart and pull away. Be my summer in a winter day love. I can't see one thing wrong between the both of us. Be mine, anytime.
When the door rings, you're ready to start with the preparatives at the clubhouse, where your wedding dress waits for you. But before you can go with your girls, Jax grabs your wrist to pull you into him with that dearly smile on his lips that shakes your legs.
“Goodbye, miss (Y/L/N). I will see you again calling yourself ‘Teller’”. He says very proud, peeking your lips with short kisses.
“That sounds amazing”. You mutter against his lips, surrounding his neck with both arms tangled on.
“I can't wait to be married”. Putting away a soft tuft of your hair, he leans forward to kiss your forehead with all the love he carries on his chest.
“Then, hurry. I'm the one who has to be late, remember?”
Fast forward a couple years, grown up in the place that we live. Make love, then we fight, and laugh 'cause it was only meant to be for one night, baby. I guess we can't control what's just not up to us.
You're sitting on a stool in Jax dorms, while Laila does your hair. A beautiful braid decorated with white flowers on it. Watching the long white silk dress hanging from the top of the bathroom door, you can't help but think about the day you met. It was like fifteen years ago, in the kinder garden. Actually, it was really cute because there were some children trying to take off from you a teddy bear, because apparently you were too old to play with him. And Jax appeared from nowhere, followed by Opie. You still laugh because of the looks on their faces.
“That's ready, honey. Do you wanna see it?” Layla asks you while you stand up, straight to hug her.
“It isn't necessary. I would trust you my life”. You just say, before being interrupted by Gemma.
“Look at you…” She said almost in tears, opening and closing the door as fast as she can, to hold you into her arms. “You're going to be the most beautiful Old Lady ever…”
“Do you think that… Jax would like it?”
“Of course he will, sweetheart”.
Every time I see you, baby, I get lost. If I'm dreaming, baby, please don't wake me up. Every night I'm with you, I fall more in love. Now I'm laying by your side and everything feels right since you came along.
The front yard of Teller-Morrow is completely changed. The main door is closed and covered, so you will have the intimacy you deserve. Maybe it isn't the most romantic place on earth, but it's the one where you grow up with Jax and your families. There's a big flowers arch as an altar, and the alley to it it's in the middle of the guests. You will have to walk over a red carpet as if you were a star, because Tig said so.
When the door of the clubhouse gets opened and your bridesmaids step out from it, the soft music floods the crowded yard. The girls positioned themselves at the right of Jackson, waiting impatiently on the altar with Opie putting well on his tie and the flower on the lapel. But as soon as your future husband watches you walk towards him, grabbed to your father's arm, he breaks into tears. You can hear some chuckles, some kindly whispers, and Jax laughing between a soft cry, so proud of what he is seeing.
Oh, you know I've been alone for quite a while. Haven't I? I thought I knew it all, found love, but I was wrong more times than enough. But since you came along…
“When I met you, fifteen years ago… I promised you that I would protect you with my life”. He has to do a brief pause, freeing your hands to clear his tears with the back of them. “You made me a better man. You took care of me, loved me unconditionally, without asking anything back. You have been my best friend since ever, my counselor, my anchor to keep floating, and I can't wait to continue my life with you, (Y/N). I can't wait to have a family with you. To come back home everyday and fall asleep with you between my arms. I will never love anyone like I love you. And I want to show it to you every single second for the rest of my life, 'cause I'm the luckiest man on earth. You're kind, attentive, motivating, honest, careful, loyal. You are perfect for me, and I couldn't imagine a day without you”.
Leaning forward, Jackson kisses your cheek, taking the advantage to clean his tears with your fingers. You know everything that he thinks about you, but these words just make it real. For a second, you thought you were dreaming. That the wedding was a dream and that you would wake up before kissing him again. But there you are, stunning and making your future husband running out of air with a charming smile.
“I couldn't ask for a better way to spend my life, than doing it by your side, Jackson. You are the most intelligent and courageous man I have ever met. Your sense of… keeping close your family, your brothers, your friends… That's what makes the difference. You put their welfare before your own, and that makes you a good man. If your father would be here, he would be proud of who you are and of who you are becoming”. John always loved you like his own daughter, and he used to say that Jax and you would end up married. But you two always used to laugh about the idea, until three years ago when you got badly drunk. And a one-night-stand and an apparently big mistake, made real his prophecy. “Your father told me once that we were made for each other, destined to meet us, destined to protect each other, destined to respect each other. Destined to love each other. Your father was the wisest man I have ever met, even if I thought that he was wrong. And I can't wait to start calling you ‘my husband, ‘my family’ for the rest of my life”.
I'm thinking, baby, you are bringing out a different kind of me. There's no safety net that's underneath, I'm free fallin' all in. You fell for men who weren't how they appear. Trapped up on a tightrope now we're here, we're free, fallin' all in you.
It's supposed that you should put the golden ring in each other's finger, but Chibs is crying so deep that he can't even say a single word, making the guests laugh when Bobby pushes him out of the altar.
“Fucking scottish… Or you're drunk, or you're crying”. He mumbles rolling his eyes, before grabbing the wedding rings from Opie's hands.
“I saw him once crying and drinking”. Jackson chuckles, infecting your families there.
“Here we go, brother”. Opie narrows his shoulders, before placing himself with the groomsmen behind him.
“I, Jackson Nathaniel Teller, take you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part”. Putting in your shaky finger the ring, with his oceanic eyes on yours, you're trying to contain the tears you have been hiding since you woke up on your shared bed.
“I, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), take you, Jackson Nathaniel Teller, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part”. You can't help but laugh softly when you notice that he's more nervous than you, holding his hand to put in the wedding ring.
“Aye, ye can kiss yer wife, kid”. Kicking out Bobby's ass, Chibs appears again cleaning his tears. “I haven' been five month practicing ti not say these words”.
Fallin' all in you.
You can assure that his lips are softer than never, with your fingers tangled with his, kissing him under the cheerings of everyone around you two. Jax can't help but hug you. Tightly, dearly.
“I will always love you”. He mutters with a broken voice, intertwining your fingers in his scalp to push him closer.
“Not even death will set us part, Jax”.
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#sons of anarchy x reader#sons of anarchy imagine#sons of anarchy#jackson teller#jackson jax teller x reader#jax teller imagine#jax teller x reader#jax teller
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THE BARD'S CHARMS
Request: How about some of Dwalin pining over a bard (performer) visiting Erebor?
Pairing: Dwalin x reader
Genre: fluff
Tags:
Requested by: @finnofamerica
Permanent taglist: @queenofmankind @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog
Warnings: none I think
A/N: I feel like I did not write Dwalin, like, at all 😕. At least I tried lmao, hope you enjoy even if I completely changed the character xdd
Rogue-durin-16 masterlist
"Mister Dwalin!" the blond prince called my name just as I approached him. "How are the party's preparations?"
"Everything is set up, except from the music." I informed, joining him in his walk. "Balin will send a raven to The Shire with an invitation tomorrow, I told him to include a request for a bard on it."
"My uncle will kill me, but send a raven to Mirkwood too." I couldn't help but snort at the thought of an elf performing for Thorin. "We must require the services of the best bard we can find." Fíli ruled his eyes begging me for support as we moved through the halls of Erebor with a trail of servants behind us. "Spare no expense on it, Thorin's first birthday under The Mountain has to be perfect."
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The morning of the party, I was summoned by the princes at the mountain's entrance. I attended as soon as I could, and when I got there, the two brothers were whispering. Kíli seemed nervous, and Fíli, distressed.
"What you both plotting, lads?" They both looked at me with that look. I stopped dead in my trucks. "What did you do."
"I told Kíli we needed a bard and-" Fíli started.
"I spoke to Tauriel," the brunet continued, immediately exclaiming, "and she found the best bard!"
"She's an elf."
"In Durin's beard—" I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Thorin will kill you himself."
"No-" Kíli stalked towards me. "but that's why you need your help!"
"You ought to hear her sing," Fíli spoke, "her voice is the most beautiful sound I've heard."
"Hold on- she's here?" I whispered, peeking over my shoulders in case someone might have heard us. "You brought an elf-maid here?"
"I walked in by myself, sir." a fourth, silky voice made me look over the brothers' shoulders. "No one brought me."
I, myself, noticed how my jaw fell at the sight of her. She was a vision of loveliness; the beauty she possessed was not from this earth.
"Mister Dwalin?" Kíli's chuckle snapped me out of my astonishment and sent me back to reality. "This is Y/n, from Mirkwood. The bard." my orbs went from the brothers to the elf and vice versa. "Y/n is really pretty isn't she?"
"I..." with a smile she captured my eyes again. "Must you complicate things all the time?"
"It's worth it!" Kíli defended their idea.
"Is it?"
"I can assure you it is." she spoke with a confident half smile. "Must I sing to you to prove it, master dwarf?" there was some kind of daring undertone in her voice.
"Nae." I crossed my arms over my chest and tried to look as stoic as possible with my heart pounding against my chest. "Won't expose myself to any kind of elvish witchery."
"I believe I do not need witchery to gain your favor, do I?" the knowing grin twisting up the corner of her perfect lips made my blood boil for some reason.
I grunted, fighting to pull my gaze away from Y/n, which earned an amused laugh from her. "I'll try to speak on behalf of the lass." I declared, already walking past the princes. "Only because she's already here."
~~~~~~~~~~~~
We were only starting the celebration when the blond prince approached me and took me away from the rest, supposedly to ask for updates on the bard's topic.
"Did you convince Thorin?" Fíli whispered peeking over my shoulder to check on our king.
"Nae, had no time to do it." I looked over my shoulder to see Thorin. "Since Bilbo arrived, I wasn't able to separate your uncle from him." I turned around with crossed arms and a sigh escaped me as I contemplated the hobbit. "For the sake of the lass, I hope the master burglar can placate whatever reaction Thorin has."
"Don't stress about it. Once she starts performing," I felt his blue eyes on me, "everything will be alright, you'll see."
"Where is that famous bard?!" Thorin's joyful yell triggered a grimace in Fíli's face. I clenched my jaw and my shoulders involuntarily tensed as the servants guide a fancy-dressed Y/n into the hall, along with the instrument she would be playing.
There was an uncomfortable silence, in which Thorin’s eyes searched for answers in the rest of us whilst Y/n prepared herself without any kind of distress.
Just as Thorin was about to complain, Bilbo gripped his arm and pulled him to whisper something in his ear. After a moment, Thorin, still with a weary look on his face, nodded, which gave Y/n the cue to start.
She sang, and as the performance progressed, I wondered if she had put us under some kind of spell.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The celebration went on an on for an entirety of three days, so, despite Y/n's endurance, she had to take breaks between performances to rest, drink and eat.
No matter where I was, nor with whom I was, my eyes would periodically search for her. I would lose my train of thought, and even become self-conscious of my actions if her eyes laid on me.
The youngest ones noticed that, so did my brother, and they didn't pass a chance to tease me about it as loud as they could, attempting to draw the lass' attention to us.
Thank Mahal, Bilbo kept hogging Thorin’s attention for the most part of the celebration. I wouldn't be able to take whatever opinion my king had on the topic; a dwarf like me, smitten over an elf-maid of Mirkwood.
"Well, master dwarf," her voice startled me, for her steps had been stealthy before she had plopped down in the bench besides me. "was it worth it?"
"Aye, it surely was, lass." I replied, wiping the beer from my beard with the back of my forearm. "Though I have the impression that you know that already."
"Maybe I do." I contemplated her as she grabbed a jar of beer herself. "Did you enjoy it?"
"How could I not?" I stared at the jar in front of me as I spoke. "no words known to me can describe what that voice of yours made a dwarf feel." I grabbed the beer and quaffed what was left of my beverage, hoping the alcohol would somehow mitigate the blush that was already reddening my neck, ears and cheeks.
"Maybe words are not what you need to express what I made you feel." Fíli, who was sitting near us, spit the beer he had been drinking and I had to stop myself from doing the same.
"I see no other way to express it." I lied, not wanting to meet her gaze.
"may I suggest something?" I looked up from my jar and turned to meet her gaze.
Just when I was about to prompt her to do it, she closed the space between us and let her lips place a feather kiss on mine.
Her eyes were now casted down, just like mine had been a moment ago. It took me a minute to realize I wasn't breathing, so I took a deep breath before guiding one hand to grab hers, while the other one held her cheek and brought her lips back to mine.
She let out a chuckle shortly after pulling away from the kiss. "See, mister Dwalin?" her eyes went from mine to our interlaced fingers. "Sometimes words are not needed."
"This may be a stupid thing to ask," I began, trying to keep my voice steady and confident. "But will you let this brute dwarf court you?"
There was a pause in which I feared I would receive a negative for an answer. Dwarven costumes were not the same as elvish costumes after all.
"I would love to say yes," she sighed. "but I'm afraid I will have to leave soon."
"No you won't." Thorin's voice startled us both and my hand would have left hers if she hadn't gripped on it. "I would like to request your services as a bard." he spoke with a half smile on his lips, sharing a knowing look with Bilbo, who had taken a seat in front of us.
"For how long?"
"Depends on how much time Dwalin may need to gain your favor." the dwarves near us let out muffled laughs and I felt my cheeks burning.
"Then it won't be for long." she squeezed my hand and smiled fondly at me. "for he already has it."
#Dwalin x reader#Dwalin son of fundin#Dwalin x reader request#Dwalin x elf reader#Dwalin fanfic#Dwalin x reader imagine#Dwalin imagine#Dwalin request#Dwalin x reader smut#Bagginshield fanfic#Dwalin x reader fluff#Dwalin x elf reader fluff#Dwalin x reader fanfic#Dwalin oneshot#durin's sons imagine#the hobbit fanfiction#Dwalin masterlist#Dwalin fluff#The Hobbit masterlist#Bagginshield#Thorin x Bilbo
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