#you thought losing points off of your strength was bad WITH all of that work? what if you didn't have a cleric!!
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twenty questions for fic writers
thanks to @cricketnationrise @happiness-of-the-pursuit @kiwiana-writes
@ninzied @captainjunglegym for the tags friends! it's been a while since I've last done one of these so I figured I would participate again! xx
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how many works do you have on ao3?
56! (technically 60 though… 😏🤫)
what's your total ao3 word count?
1,248,687
what fandoms do you write for?
RWRB (currently) [ 1D and teen wolf (past) ]
top five fics by kudos:
but if you could see us from a distance you'd know I've always been so close to you - the og sex curse one shot
Something Borrowed, Something Blue - enemies to lovers at june's wedding
I'll bet it all on me and you, I'll bet it all you're bulletproof - coworkers trivia fluff
praying our bridges don't make waves - soulmates with a twist
kiss me like you've got nowhere to be - roommates to lovers fluff
do you respond to comments?
nowhere near as much as I'd like to! my capacity for social interaction lately has been... lacking, to the say the least ksjhdkshd BUT I SEE AND READ THEM ALL AND I HOLD THEM SO CLOSE <3333
what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
ooh I can't usually do angsty endings so I'm carving my own loophole here -- the first two fics in the sex curse series are definitely my most angsty endings before they work their shit out in the third skjdhsjkhd
what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
most of mine do, but I'd say that overall the most fluffy ones are in the firstprince first kisses series!
do you get hate on fics?
I most definitely did in my old fandom but people have been generally very kind and supportive to me here so far! :')
do you write smut?
yes!
craziest crossover:
my george x firstprince hurt/comfort is very special to me <3
(but I also have a Jeff from bottoms x Shane from minx au in the docs so ksjhdhfjh that too)
have you ever had a fic stolen?
I hope not!
have you ever had a fic translated?
not in this fandom! but I have had some lovely folks record some podfics of my works! (here and here!)
have you ever co-written a fic before?
not for rwrb! (yet???? ksjhdkjhfkjh)
all time favorite ship?
I gotta go with fp! they got me like that niall horan ear crawling gif fr I'll never be the same
what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
oh gosh I'm not sure. I HOPE I finish them all but I also have an obscene amount so ksjhdksjdhf not crossing anything off yet!
what are your writing strengths?
I think dialogue? it's always the part of my fics that I write first, and then I build the rest of the story around it. I hope it's a solid foundation!
what are your writing weaknesses?
there's a fine line between explaining and over-explaining and I think sometimes I fall into the second category skjdhkjhf. I love some introspection as much as the next guy but I'm working on only including details that feel most pertinent to the story.
thoughts on dialogue in another language?
I love it! I think it can be so special and can be another way to connect readers with the characters and the story. I took Spanish all four years of high school so I'm a little rusty now, and studied French for a while a few years ago and just picked it back up recently! my translations aren't always perfect but luckily I've had some very kind people to check or point these things out for me :)
first fandom you wrote in?
..... hollywood heights sjkhdjkhgdfh
favorite fic you've written?
oh no. I am so bad at perceiving myself ksjhdjkdjfhg. I think each of my fics definitely served a purpose for me while writing them, but lately I've found myself returning to these three (I'm breaking the rules yes sorry):
Something Borrowed, Something Blue
there were pages turned with the bridges burned (everything you lose is a step you take) - diabetic!Alex
treading water in the deep, just waiting for the tides to meet -(soulmates)
but also there's a wip I'm working now which..... might take first place when I post skjdhkjsdh WE'LL SEE!
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PLEASE PLEASE CONSIDER THIS OPEN TAG IF YOU'D LIKE TO DO IT! with all of the tumblr nonsense and how behind I've been on here lately I'm all over the place with tags at the moment.
other tags (no pressure!): @firenati0n @nocoastposts @wordsofhoneydew @thedramasummer
@heysweetheart-writes @stellarm @suseagull04 @bigassbowlingballhead
@eusuntgratie @magicandarchery @read-and-write- @iboatedhere
@anchoredarchangel @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @alasse9 @itsmaybitheway
@getmehighonmagic @rmd-writes @sparklepocalypse
xx
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mmmmmmmm sad
i was really excited about my CoS game yesterday but a few of the players seem to be very fixated on getting to the next combat/room they can steal stuff from? and getting annoyed when my character expresses caution? I got interrupted once or twice while looking through some of the lore-related stuff or while trying to find an alternative means of doing something besides "charging right in." Like, not just the character taking off to do their own thing - the player interrupted me to tell the DM that we were going down a hallway. Like. Okay.
we were told this was going to be a roleplay/exploration/mystery heavy game and I'm feeling like that's only fine if it fits in the span of six minutes. And so now it feels like I'm the one making the problem.
#hush frenchy#i need a curse of strahd tag#it's not like we're going slow either. we had...three different combat scenarios in the last game?#and that was with our fighter avoiding one because he made friends with a dog#we've been clearing levels of this house like it's our job#so i guess i'm just kinda put out by the fact that my character expressing frustration with another for triggering a dangerous combat#was met with 'but did you die?' from the player#and like no! I didn't! but I did end up saving all of y'all because they were vulnerable to radiant!!#and because I burned a higher level scroll to maximize damage and take them out quicker!!#you thought losing points off of your strength was bad WITH all of that work? what if you didn't have a cleric!!#idk it just feels like it sucks more because i was so excited#i'm also the only one who isn't a cis dude besides the dm so it feels....idk. it feels bad
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lovesick┆gojo satoru
୧ genre: fluff
୧ wc: 1.4k
୧ synopsis: megumi is sick with a common cold, and gojo is simply lovesick for you.
Gojo Satoru convinces himself that he's not jealous.
How could he feel such a prickling and burning sensation in his lower tummy, slowly rising towards his heart making his blood boil and face grow hot just because you're nursing eleven-year-old Megumi back to health? The same little rascal that he had previously gotten into a spat with over something stupid and it doesn't help that the brat's sticking his tongue out and pulling down his lower eyelid taunting him.
But of course, you're too busy doting over sweet and innocent Megumi to notice. Too preoccupied with fluffing the pillows for the young boy to rest his poor head on, gently tucking him in with a cozy throw blanket, putting something on the platinum screen with the promise of brewing him a ginger-honey tea to make him feel better.
No matter how much Gojo tries to ignore Megumi, his facial muscles twitch and contort on their own in utter dismay and his Six Eyes zeroes in on the couch-ridden boy with his lips curling into a deep frown before sticking his tongue back at him.
"Come on, Satoru. Be nice to him, he's really sick." You say as you start the kettle and reach for a mug from the cabinet. Gojo's forced to acknowledge that Megumi wasn't faking the snotty nose and loud sneezes, but he still doesn't like the idea of losing to one smug child and giving him the satisfaction that he's secured his revenge which is your devoted attention. Maybe Megumi knew that his guardian would go a wee-bit insane being treated as a second thought but Gojo will never admit that it's working.
"Hey honey, you know what? I don't feel so good either. Here, feel my forehead." Gojo takes your hand and places it over his forehead to check if it's warm to the touch and he makes sure to do his best impression of looking pathetically sick—droopy eyelids, jutting his lower lip into a pout, and slumped shoulders to get your sympathy.
"Satoru, you feel perfectly fine. There's nothing wrong with you."
"I swear I'm not feeling well. My throat feels weird and scratchy, my body feels flashes of hot and cold, my head is pounding and it's killing me, and.." Gojo tries to convince you that he's experiencing every symptom he could think of and you knew he was determined to be sick. Between your "uh-huh" and "right" you decide to humor him as you follow his explanation and tried your hardest to hold back a smile when he throws in an exaggerated detail or two.
"Alright, you big baby. We can't have you feeling sick now, can we? Can't have the strongest sorcerer out of commission for long, hm?"
"Nope, that'd be very bad. As long as you drop everything and pour all your attention on me, I should get better in no time. No pressure or anything, but the world does kinda depend on it~" Gojo flashes you a toothy grin then quickly remembers that he's supposed to be sick and feigns a cough or two averting your knowing glance.
"Hmm, okay I'll see what I can do. Now come here, let's get you all nice and comfortable so you can get your much-needed rest and get well again." You lead him to your shared bedroom and reflect the covers back for him to climb onto the mattress and ensure he's warm and cozy as you pull the comforter over him. For someone who's supposed to feel horribly ill Gojo sure can't seem to wipe the smile off his face. "You seem a little too happy to be sick, don't you think?"
"Just glad that you'll be the one to help me get back my strength is all." Through his fluttering lashes, he sports the most innocent and angelic expression he can muster and you can't help the soft giggle given his stellar performance up until this point.
"Alright, if you say so. I'll get you something to eat, okay? I'll be right back."
As you're turning on your heel to head for the door, Gojo pouts and protests. "Wha- No sweet kiss to hold me over? You might be a while and I'll get lonely since you're not here to keep me company."
"Aw, sorry baby. But you know there's no kissing until you're all better. Can't get myself sick now that I have to look after you and Megumi, right? I promise you I won't be long."
"...Not even a forehead kiss? :(" He murmurs under his breath as he watches your back to him and eventually disappears into another room. Once Gojo's left to his own devices, he wonders how long it would take you to complete your task on hand. He fiddles with his thumbs and counts the passing minutes. One minute becomes five, five becomes ten, then ten becomes twenty and he suddenly cannot bear to be apart from you much longer and checks on you.
"Sweetheart, what's taking you so long? I thoug-" And there he stumbles across the answer to his own question. Megumi is being spoon-fed rice porridge by you because he claims that his arms are too weak to do it himself and you couldn't leave him starved in his condition. Gojo appears crestfallen and disgruntled in the throw blanket draped over his lanky body and with a small huff he grumbles, "So that's what you've been up to. Fine, fine I guess it's up to me to take care of myself, huh?"
"What's wrong with him? Is he sick too or something?" Megumi asks nonchalantly as he watches his mentor's dejected form return to his bedroom to sulk. You gently shake your head and offer the young boy a soft smile, but you do feel a little bad that your husband has been acting unusual lately hence his needy and clingy tendencies.
"He's just going through a phase, but don't you worry about him and focus on getting better, okay? I'll find a way to make it up to him."
When you enter your shared bedroom with a platter of breakfast in your grasp, you found Gojo hiding under the covers in an attempt of giving you his silent treatment. You place the serving tray of food on the nightstand and situate yourself on the bed beside him, smoothing your hand over his covered shoulder as he's laid on his side with his face away from you. "Satoru, my love, I've brought you breakfast."
With a soft shrug of his shoulder, he responds with a strained hum but you know it's just him being melodramatic because he could never truly be mad at you. "Do you wanna tell me what's on your mind? I'm all yours if you come on out from under the covers."
Gojo shifts his body weight around and tufts of white hair start to peek as he gradually pulls the blanket down until you meet his azure gaze and he receives your sweet smile. "Hey there, is everything alright? Did I do something to upset you?" The tender warmth of your hand finds its home on his cheek with a gentle caress and he sighs contently at the familiar touch. You're patient as you wait for him to gather his thoughts, your fingers moving to his soft tendrils in soothing motions and he inches closer to you.
"You've never done a single thing wrong ever. You are perfect," he begins slowly. "I just missed you and ever since I got back from my mission you were too busy with the kids (Megumi and Tsumiki) that we haven't had any time together and I just wanna be with you." Gojo confesses as he's playing with the hem of your shirt, feeling a bit vulnerable to look you straight in the eyes. "Oh, and another thing... I'm not actually sick I only said that so you'd notice me more."
"Thanks for being honest with me. And I knew that you weren't sick. For someone who's supposed to be good at anything he tries, I'm glad that you turned out to be a pretty bad liar."
Gojo's face heats up at that and he unceremoniously buries his face in your lap from embarrassment, as muffled words of "Oh, so you knew. I thought I was pretty convincing" managed to reach your ears.
"Tell you what, how about we have ourselves a nice picnic this weekend? Just the two of us, I'll find someone to watch the kids. And I think maybe spending an afternoon in the sunshine will do us some good. What do you think?"
Gojo suddenly lights up at your proposal. "I think you're wonderful for planning the perfect date."
"You're sweet for giving me so much credit." Your soft laughter quickly melts his heart and he returns your affections, feeling a little more in love with you as you're both sharing a moment together. "I love you."
"I love you so much more, my sweet angel."
#a lil extra: megumi makes an origami turtle signed 'truce?' to which gojo responds with his own 'truce' and all is right in the world again#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo x you#jjk imagines#jjk x reader#jjk gojo satoru#gojo satoru#satoru x reader#satoru x you#satoru fluff
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Heyyy 🤗🤗 I just discovered your blog but after binge reading almost all your writings I just have to request something cause I love your writing style so much
How bout a ghost x reader where he has a nightmare about losing the reader could be angst to fluff to smut
Midnight Rain
Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader
Summary: Bad dreams were not strange to Simon, but ever since you came into his life there's one thing he feared the most: losing you.
Word Count: 1.0k
Tw: smut! But nothing too explicit. self-doubt, angst, comfort. Poorly edited. you know the drill.
A/N:I'm so sorry this took so long to get out but life happened 🥲 I wish it was longer and far better i hope you like it.💛🩵 also since i got two similar requests decided to make one for both🥰✨
Masterlist✨
He doesn't scream when he jolts awake from his bed. It's always like that. The dreams. The nightmares. Simon was cursed, tragedies seemed to plague his life on a daily basis that's why he was so adamant about letting you in at first.
Slipping off the bed he fights the way his heart is racing nearly beating out of his chest. The clock marks the time.
5:31 A.M
The sky is gray outside the soft morning rain tapping against the window reminds him that he's supposed to be at Price's office by six.
Yet his mind is purely set on you. On that horrific imagery of his nightmare. He knew that the possibilities of it happening were high, and it didn't help to stop his growing anxiety. To think of someone so small and fragile, dead and without possibilities... fucking hell he knew you were capable of many things. He knew about your strength, resilience. Yet he had a strong sense of protection when it came to you. Death was something he couldn't keep you safe from, thought he'd die trying. Simon would happily trade your life for his if it were in his power.
'Just let it be me not her. Never her.'
Needless to say he didn't get any proper rest. He was thankful for the mask and face paint covering his face, otherwise anyone could see the tiredness in his features.
But you knew better.
You always knew better.
Always seeing through him.
You're laughing at something Johnny's saying, he couldn't attend training this morning so he hadn't had the time to talk to you. And then the sight of you getting shot appears in the back of his mind agains, your body falling limply to the ground next to him.
Dead.
On his watch.
He shifts his weight from one foot to another, swallowing down the lump in his throat.
All the bloody morning his head has been spinning. Unable to get a grip on reality, Simon forces himself to turn away.
You watch from the other side, smile faltering. Why hadn't he joined you? You were about to wave at him. Maybe he didn't want Johnny to be there... Simon was a private man and he wanted to keep a low profile regarding your relationship so you decide to follow him, saying a quick good-bye to your teammate and trotting after Simon.
The door to his office is closed, knocking twice then waiting a second and you knock again.
He doesn't respond to you but you open the door nonetheless. You poke your head enough for him to see you.
"Hey..." you greet him with a warm smile. Simon breathes deeply. "Didn't come to say hello today." You point out, closing the door behind you. He looks down where he's signing a stack of papers.
"Didn't want to interrupt." He gruffly answers.
"Come on..." you reply. "It was just Johnny and I... everything alright?" You question him. The grip on his pen is painfully hard to the point his knuckles turn white.
"Jus' busy, that's all."
Something's not right. You take a deep breathe and walk towards him until you're standing next to his chair. Simon doesn't look up nor acknowledges your presence.
"Simon..." you try again.
Suddenly in a swift movement he's standing up, grabbing you by the arm and leading the two of you out of the office and to his room. You don't say anything you just let him guide you. Whatever it was you'd work it out. He locks the door once you're both inside, his big calloused hands grabbing you by your cheeks. His eyes are frantic, bouncing from your lips and back to your orbs. As if trying to remember the sight of you before him, the sight of you in his room.
"Talk to me. Please...." it's a soft plea. You know him, you recognize the sadness in his honeyed eyes. You know despair when you see it.
"I can't lose you." His voice shakes, as does he. His hands are trembling, buzzing with worry.
"You're not gonna lose me, Simon..." your own hands, much smaller than his come to rest above them. "I'm right here." A brief moment of silence passes by, until he releases a shaky breath, he retreats enough to slip the fabric of his mask off. It was getting hard to breathe for him. "Come with me... please."
You drag him to the bed, motioning for him to sit down you help him unlace his boots then you do the same with yours.
He lays back as do you, Simon brings you closer to his body wrapping one arm around you. Hand tracing soft circles on his chest, hearing the rhythmic beat of his heart underneath you.
"You were dead." He begins. "Right in front of me and I couldn't stop it," your motions stop. Brows knitting together. "I...-" he trails off. "I'm nothing if I can't keep you safe."
"Simon don't ever say that again." You scold him. Tears gather in the corner of your eyes. "Don't you dare think such things."
Standing you're quick to straddle his lap, strong arms hold you close to his body. You slam your lips to his, Simon welcomes the warmth of your mouth against him. Your hands caress the back of his head, fingers threading through his blond locks. He hardens under your body and murmur something into your ear. Something that sends you over the edge. Soon, your pants are discarded on the white floor, he lets you ride him, merely looking at your eyes never leaving your face. If he could capture this moment he'd do it. He'll save it for the rest of his life. Treasure it. Wrapping your arms around his shoulder you kiss him hard. You're so close your mind is in a haze, and when he grits his teeth you know he's close too. The pure adoration in his eyes is enough. There'll never be anyone after him.
"You're stuck with me."
His lips curve into a barely-there-smile.
"Yeah..." he gasped. "Jus' keep looking at me, love. And stay with me."
As if you could ever say no to him.
#cod#call of duty modern warfare 2#cod mwii#cod x reader#cod mw2#cod mw22#cod ghost#simon ghost riley#call of duty#cod simon riley#cod simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x you#mw2 ghost#call of duty mw2#simon ghost riley x reader
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❋ If you’re a villain, then let me be your accomplice ❋
↳Reincarnated into a new world as the bad guy part 2
feat: Rook
genre: drama, slow burn romance, smitten fools,
note: sequel to reincarnated into a new world as the bad guy Rook ver., historical fantasy setting, sculptor!reader, reader is referred to as “Ma artiste” and “Mon amour” by Rook, no pronouns used with the reader, mentions of beast hunting, 1.8k word count
While it refers to fictional beasts, this touches the controversial topic on hunting which can be sensitive to people. I’m not trying to claim that my own opinions or the opinions in this fic are right and you can have a stance against these opinions. Despite the controversy, I still decided to add this into the story because this world is supposed to mirror the era when this was practiced by people of the time and with Rook as a canonical huntsman, this fits the story well.
I choose to be transparent that this topic will be in this fic and if you are uncomfortable, you are free to ignore this story because I would rather you decide your comfort levels than have people read my story.
Random note: when my laptop died, all my banners are gone so yea…I changed my character banners again
series masterlist
To your dismay, you found yourself facing the consequences for the actions of an obsessive character that convinced the famous knight Rook Hunt to be your fiancé.
Begging the Hunt family, you managed to settle a deal to repay the dowry the Hunt family paid to annul the engagement, since losing this engagement would cost their side more than yours.
Thankfully, the era of this world was the rising age of artistic revolution and the aristocracy was itching to find the newest trend of beauty and creative innovation, which you enthusiastically took as an opportunity to build your name in the field of art as a sculptor, starting off with simple desk ornaments to breathtaking statues.
Perhaps it was your silver lining that your still fiance Rook was a well-known admirer of all things beautiful as with his keen eyes, your sculptures stood out among others due to the added details of your subjects that your fiance pointed out as you work. You were confident in your skills but you owe it to Rook for enhancing the realism in your sculptures.
Initially, guilt ate away at your conscience for not only the forceful engagement you placed upon the knight (even if you weren’t directly responsible) but for also taking his help with your commissions without any benefits to himself. But the green-eyed man did not ever allow you to dwell in such thoughts.
“Non, ma artiste! Your works of art are the fruits of your passion and hard work that cannot be replicated. I may have given some notes here and there but the beauty of each masterpiece you created can only be brought out from your skillful hands.”
Rook smiled as he held your hands, still dirtied with bits of dried clay. The gaze of his bright green makes you feel somewhat self-conscious. You were a noble but you must have ruined the softness of your skin due to your long hours of work and stress. You tried to pull your hands back in embarrassment but your fiance held them firmly in his own gloved pair.
“Every scar, blemish, and crack is a show of your strength, mon amour. I could get lost tracing the lovely lines of your hands if you allow me.”
No matter how many others have praised you or your work, you couldn’t help the unique warmth in your heart that only appears when Rook sings them. But you chalk it up to your body reacting from old feelings held by the original character. It must be, right?
Your commissions have thankfully slowed down enough to give you a well needed break. You were curious to what might taking up the attention of the nobility right now which was how you learned about the bi-annual “Hunt of the Beasts” event.
You were initially terrified to learn the existence of magical beasts in this world and the danger that resides in the dense forests and mountainous lands that borders the kingdom. In order to maintain the beast population for the safety of the people and resources, the imperial family hosts an extravagant event for the knights and local mercenaries in the kingdom to vanquish the beasts. Some may call it barbaric or cruel, but for the safety of the villages and farms that reside near these beasts’ territories, it was an unfortunate necessity that is at least maintained by the imperial family to avoid excessive hunting that disrupts the delicate balance of the population.
Rook was a frequent participant of the hunt and of course he was going to be a participant. Typically, partners of the participants would attend the event as spectators waiting by the designated zones among other visitors. However, you were too new to this world and this will be the first hunt for you where you will surely come across images you weren’t sure you were prepared for.
Giant beasts…even thinking of their corpses. It’s too overwhelming.
You expressed your discomfort with Rook and despite his experience as a seasoned participant, offered words of understanding to you. The knight suggested that you could sit out from the event and he could explain to any curious busybody that you were not feeling well.
Once again, Rook warmed your heart with his words but there was some guilt still left behind within you. Despite the loveless engagement, Rook has wholeheartedly supported you in your passion and your work despite his own inexperience in the field, but you couldn’t bring yourself to accept something that he as a knight and huntsman took pride in. You allowed your fear win over and it left a bitter feeling in your heart.
The day has finally arrived and the dense forest that bordered the kingdom was busy with attendees of all status. Many have come to join to spectate and support the brave men and women who have trained to battle the dangerous beasts that lurk within the land that was darkened by wild greenery. Aides from the imperial palace watched over the event as participants were informed of the rules of the hunts; what to expect, what to capture, and what to avoid lest they choose to face punishment.
Rook surveyed his surroundings as he finished his last preparations. He saw both familiar faces and newcomers that hope to make a name for themselves today. Tents were filled with important families and even visiting guests from nearby lands either to observe or participate themselves. But he doesn’t see a glimpse of your figure.
Not that he expected it. He respected your choice not to attend the event. It could be that he has become too desensitized by the presence of beasts and monsters due to his work that he has forgotten how frightening it could be for a civilian to witness them in person.
Maybe during his hunt, he could find some wild flowers to bring back to you when he visits you later. Would you feel better if he did? You had such a conflicted expression on your face last he saw you so maybe a bouquet of rare flowers could brighten your mood, even bring you some inspiration for your art. Would you feel grateful, perhaps even smile for him as you call his name in appreciation…
“Rook.”
Ah, he could even hear you right now.
“Rook?”
A rare occurance, Rook was actually spooked to suddenly feel your presence behind him. The blonde knight did not sense you standing there, with him…at the Hunt of the Beasts.
“Mon amour, you surprised me!” His green eyes almost couldn’t believe it. “I thought you’d chose not to attend this year.”
To be fair, you’re surprised yourself. The whole idea of this event still feels unreal to you and your fear of witnessing something you’re not mentally ready for is still there. Even so…
“I want to support you, like you always have with me” you whispered shyly but Rook could clearly hear your voice at this distance. He then saw in your hands a small woven charm bracelet, a common blessing given to participants like him.
During the Hunt of the Beasts, traditions came about among the participants and non-participants. Those who participated in the hunt would offer their game as an offering to their lover as a show of devotion and strength to protect them from harm. In addition, non-participants could give a blessed items to the participant of their choice as a show of admiration or to wish them safety during the hunt.
You noticed the knight’s gaze and you felt more nervous than before. As this was your first attendance, this was also the first time offering a blessing to someone. When you told your servant you were going to the hunting event, he graciously gave you a woven bracelet and suggested that you offer it to your “lover”, much to your embarrassment.
But then you noticed the knight more closely and saw that he already had a number of bracelets and ribbons peeking out from his left arm sleeve. You supposed despite his eccentricity, Rook was still a very talented knight and quite attractive to people of all social status. Even if he was technically a taken man, this did not stop admirers from showing favour towards him with blessed charms and ribbons.
Mortified, you tried to hide the small bracelet as you put on a smile. “Since it was tradition, I thought I should bring you something but I should have guessed that you would have plenty of blessings from others. Adding more would probably be burdensome-“
You flinched slightly when you felt your hands being captured by another pair. You saw Rook’s gloved hands stopping your own but he had such an unreadable look in his eyes that you couldn’t tell what was on his mind.
“Rook?” The call of his name seemed to have woken him from his trance as Rook quickly gave you a smile before he spoke.
“Mon amour, I would be honoured to receive your blessing.” Releasing his grip on you, Rook removed the glove on his right hand where unlike his counterpart hand, was empty. “Would you please place it upon me?”
Nodding your head, you gently wrapped the woven bracelet around Rook’s wrist, careful not to tighten the knot too much since this was Rook’s dominant hand. You tried not to think too much about how he allowed your blessing and only yours on his right hand and not with the rest on his non-dominant hand.
“It doesn’t mean anything.” you tried to focus on something else and rested your eyes on Rook’s hand. It was not often you see it as the blonde-haired man tends to wear gloves as part of his uniform but you could see the rough calluses and scars littered about his fingers and palm. The skin of his hand was smoother than you expected (probably due to his friendship with the Schoenheit heir) but you can tell how hard Rook must have trained to be as skilled as he was today. How diligent this man is which earned the respect of many. While caressing his warm hand, you absentmindedly echoed the words he once spoke to you.
“Every scar, blemish, and crack is a show of your strength…How beautiful.”
Realizing what you just said aloud, you quickly let go of Rook’s hand before rushing to create distance between the two of you (when did you get so close to begin with?!).
“There, all done!” you did your best to hide your embarrassment with a smile. “I’ll be in one of the tents until the hunt is over. I wish you luck!”
With a quick bow, you rushed into a tent that was open, too flustered to look back and face your fiance.
A shame, really. Because you missed the opportunity to see a rare image of Rook with a rosy shade blooming across his cheeks and ears.
#twisted wonderland#twst#disney twisted wonderland#twst imagines#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#twisted wonderland imagines#rook hunt#twst rook x reader#rook hunt x reader#villainess au
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Chapter Six: Smoke Alarms
A/N: We all need a little alien smut in our lives. Also, “intergalactic seed”
Summary: Your dull life gets flipped upside down when a stranger crash lands on your farm. When the mystery of what he is unravels, he takes you and your heart for a ride that is out of this world.
Warnings: SMUT, 18+ only, sex with an alien, oral sex, alien physical features, Eddie has an enhanced sense of smell, strength, and speed, Eddie picks up and carries reader (he is very strong), unprotected PinV sex, bad puns, Eddie almost burns down the farm, time jump at the end, 18+ only, MINORS DNI
Wordcount: 3.4k
Series Masterlist
You could hear the beeping from outside the house when you pulled up to the front of the house.
You had spent all shift daydreaming, excited to get home for some reason. You had even stopped by a fast food joint to buy food with money that you didn’t even have because you wanted to see Eddie’s face when he tried something fried.
But all of your hopes and dreams came crashing down you heard the loud, rhythmic shrill of your fire alarm as soon as you pulled up to the house.
The sounds of your shoes hitting the porch steps sounded like thunder. It was possible that your feet weren’t even hitting the ground with how fast you were moving.
You threw the door open to immediately get hit with the smell of smoke. The sound of your smoke alarm blaring was deafening and you just wanted to cover your ears and run but you couldn’t.
“Eddie?!” You screamed, pushing into the house and into the kitchen.
There was a pan on the stove, smoke billowing it out of it.
You grabbed a lid and threw it on top of the pan to try to smother any possible flames. You immediately started fanning with a dish towel and opening any windows to try to air the kitchen out.
Your eyes pricked with tears from the way your throat burned from the smoke and also because of the panic crashing through you at the thought of losing your home.
You were mid wave of the dish towel when you finally noticed Eddie in the corner. He had his hands pressed to his ears, eyes wide with fear.
“Eddie,” you choked out, forgetting the dish towel and rushing towards him. “Are you okay?”
The smoke alarm finally clicked off, the smoke clearing out enough for the device to deem the air clean.
He seemed to be in shock, panic evident on his face as his eyes flicked between you and the still smokey kitchen behind you.
You coughed a little, the polluted air getting trapped in your throat. Eddie snapped out of his panic then, grasping for your hand and whisking you through the kitchen and out of the still open front door.
“Eddie!” you yelled as he pulled you down the steps, only stopping when he reached your truck. “The fire is out! We’re safe.”
“Safe?” Eddie asked, genuine concern.
“Safe from whatever you were setting on fire!” You pulled your arm away from his grip. “What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you touch the stove? I left you things to eat! You could have burned my house down and then what?”
You were panting, wide eyed and furious at the alien that stood before you.
“I wanted to make you food,” he explained after a moment, his translator taking a second to catch up with your fast, angry talking.
“I make the food,” you said, pointing at yourself. “You don’t know how things work and you almost burned down everything I own!”
“On my planet…there are things in the ceiling to stop flames from happening,” he lifted his hands in a moment to show something dropping from the imaginary ceiling.
“We have those too. They’re called sprinklers. But my house doesn’t have that because it’s like one hundred years old! And it is very flammable!” You yelled.
Eddie sighed, a deep sigh, seemingly deciding to either not to say anything else about this or not knowing exactly what to say to you.
Tears pricked your eyes and before you knew it you were crying.
“So you’re not going to say anything now? You were just going to burn my house down and leave me with nothing at all? And then you can just hop on your stupid spaceship and leave me here?” You asked, words pouring out of your chest as you stared up at him.
Eddie’s face crumpled as he took in the words you were saying, and the devastation evident in your tone.
“I will not leave you here,” Eddie pledged, eyes focused on yours as he spoke like he was making a promise that he intended to keep. “I just wanted to make you happy. You have been doing a lot to protect me when you did not have to. You could have called your government but you didn’t. I wanted to make it better for you.”
But you knew he couldn’t keep that promise. Tomorrow he would go back out to the field to work on his ship until he eventually fixed it. And then tonight wouldn’t matter anymore.
You wouldn’t matter anymore.
You had to keep reminding yourself that things like this didn’t matter. Yesterday when Eddie gave you the best orgasm in the world with his alien tongue, it didn’t matter. This morning when you woke up in his arms after he snuck in your bed didn’t matter either.
What you were about to do didn’t matter.
You pushed forward without thinking, shoes sliding against gravel as you practically threw yourself at him.
Eddie caught you with a firm grip, long fingers digging into your upper arms as you pushed your lips against his. Eddie was a little cool, like he always was. His body temperature seemed to run lower than yours.
He froze, lips not moving back but when you went to pull away, he pushed his face forward, catching onto your movements and learning as he went.
You felt hot, flushed at the way Eddie was kissing you like he wanted to devour you. It reminded you of the skill he had with his tongue and the thought made you rub your thighs together.
Eddie paused, breaking to look down at you with wide eyes and flared nostrils.
You wondered if he could smell you, if he knew how you were being affected by his kiss alone.
“I’m pretty sure the smoke has cleared out. Are you ready to go back inside?” You asked when he allowed you to break apart.
“Inside,” was his only response before picking up off of the ground.
“Eddie!” You yelled, legs kicking as he bounded up the steps.
You learned a new thing about your new little alien friend then.
He was strong. Very strong.
He was moving so quickly to your bedroom it was almost a blur.
You felt the bed against your back, trying to reorient yourself after you had been placed on the bed but before you knew it Eddie was over you, pressing his lips to yours once more and spinning you out of orbit.
He was a starving man. It was like he had been deprived his whole life of kissing you and now that he had a taste he couldn’t get enough.
You had to push his face away gently to get some air. He pulled back, looking at you with nothing but adoration that made your heart hurt. You had to close your eyes and turn your head away for a moment because of the intensity of it.
Eddie wouldn’t let you though, he placed a palm against your cheek gently holding your face in place.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, voice husky and pale green skin glowing slightly in the darkness of your bedroom.
“I’m scared I’m going to get attached to you,” you admitted, bravery striking you.“It's only been a few days and I’m already getting attached to you.”
Eddie looked down at you thoughtfully, head tilted as he digested your words. He frowned slightly.
“Is that a bad thing?” He asked.
You nodded.
“Very bad,” you whispered. “Because you can’t stay here.”
Eddie chewed his lip for a moment, the action very human.
“Do not think about that right now.”
And that’s all you needed to hear before you started kissing him again.
Your hands traveled from his arms to his hair where you gave a little experimental tug. Eddie groaned into your mouth, obviously liking it.
His hips grinded into yours and you hiked a leg up over him so you could move your hips back against him.
Your hands slipped under the black t-shirt he was wearing, feeling his soft, velvety cool skin under your fingertips. He shivered at your touch, helping you pull his shirt over his head.
When it was your turn to remove your scrub top and bra, his mouth practically fell open as he stared at your chest. You felt shy, going to cover yourself when he put a hand up, stopping you from hiding.
You sat and stared at each other for a moment before Eddie finally spoke.
“I am going to take this out of my mouth now,” he said as he pointed at his mouth, talking about the translator. “It is uncomfortable.”
“Okay,” you sighed, sad that you were losing your one way of understanding Eddie. He kept the interpreters in his ears, he would still be able to understand what you said though.
Eddie set the translator onto the nightstand. When he relaxed back on the bed, sitting across from where you laid, staring at him, you spoke up.
“Take off your pants.”
Eddie blinked before scrambling into action, standing at the side of the bed and undoing the tie on his sweat pants and pulling them down to his ankles.
How had you not noticed before?
He wasn’t wearing underwear and the second he pulled them down his hard cock popped out and smacked against his stomach.
You were in awe, crawling across the bed to get a better look at him.
He was long, uncut and thick. He looked like a human except there were no pubes. Around the base of his dick and spread across his hips were little things you could only describe as rough green scales. They shined, looking iridescent and beautiful. Eddie was otherworldly, from the way he was built to all of his extras.
You ran a finger against the rough texture and watched how he twitched.
He liked it.
“Come here,” you commanded as you scooted back on the bed, pulling your pants down not as gracefully as Eddie had.
Eddie didn’t care though, his eyes trailed your now naked body as you laid against your pillows.
He climbed up on the bed again, prowling over your body. His nostrils flared as he took a deep inhale and his eyes rolled back in his head for a moment as he hovered over you.
He leaned down to your ear, his lips tickling the shell of your ear as he whispered something to you in his language before pressing a kiss to your neck three times. Chills erupted across your skin, like what he said to you meant something. You closed your eyes for a second, savoring the sweet feeling that filled your heart at his words.
You wanted to grab his translator, have him pop it back in his mouth so he could say it again but you didn’t have time to shove it in his mouth before his lips were skimming your collar bones and down your breasts softly.
His tongue licked around your nipples, the feeling sending tingles across your chest. You arched your back, pressing your chest closer to his face. He latched his lips around your nipple, sucking before he moved to give attention to the next.
You whimpered his name as he trailed soft kisses down your stomach, going lower and lower torturously slow, like he was savoring the way your skin felt against his lips.
He spread you apart with his long fingers, examining you with a lustful look on his face before he licked a long, slow stripe up your slit.
Your hips bucked and he held you down with one hand placed firmly on your lower abdomen.
He groaned as he tasted you, diving back in to suck on your clit. You gasped, hands digging into his hair and tugging as he tortured you with his mouth.
Eddie stopped only for a moment to look up at you with a wild eyed look and disheveled hair. He said something in his language again before pressing a sweet kiss to the skin just above your clit. You had never had someone devour you yet show you such tenderness at the same time.
You sat up a little, reaching down to grab his arm and pull him up to you.
“Please come here,” you begged and he obeyed as he climbed up your body, positioning his hips between your spread legs.
“I want you to fuck me,” you whispered in to hear softly. He shivered at your words, looking down at you once to read your face before lining himself up to your entrance and sliding in.
He was so big that it was a stretch that took you a second to get used to. You shifted your hips, sighing at the friction of your clit rubbing against his scales. They weren’t as rough as you originally thought, instead perfectly textured to give you pleasure.
Like he was built for you and you for him.
You grinded against him, hips held in the air, back against the bed, and hands clasping his large hands tightly. Your mouth was open against his, air being punched from your lungs as he gave and gave and gave some more.
He seemed just as affected as you were, skin glowing a little brighter as he pulled back and thrusted into you again.His movements sent shockwaves up your spine, already on the edge from his tongue moments before. You were already ready to topple over the edge.
It had been so long, so long since you had felt connected to someone like this. So long since you wanted to feel like this with someone outside of the romance books you read regularly.
It was overwhelming.
Eddie was talking to you in his language switching between rough and soft melodic words in his raspy voice, it spurred on the intensity of your feelings as you nodded along absently to whatever he was saying. You could have been agreeing to an alien invasion for all you knew.
Eddie picked up his speed, and the intensity had you unraveling.
You saw stars, planets, galaxies, and whole universes behind your eyelids. Your body traveled through the sky like you were on a spaceship of your own, taking Eddie with you.
Eddie came shortly after you, pumping you full of his intergalactic seed.
Now was not the best time to start worrying about protection.
You were sticky, slick with sweat. Your hips ached from holding them in a way to best feel his scales against your clit. You let your bottom half collapse on the bed, Eddie moving with you.
You laid like that for a moment, his weight on top of you comfortably. It was nice, secure. Like he was keeping you from floating away on your dreamy little postorgasmic cloud.
You snaked an arm away from him and he popped his head up, looking to see what you were doing. You patted your hand blindly on the nightstand, palm brushing the metal of the translator before grabbing it and putting it to Eddie’s mouth.
He slipped it under his tongue without argument.
He stared down at you, full of admiration and affection. The way he was looking at you made you wonder if he was feeling the weight of new emotions in his heart as well, or whatever the alien equivalent to a heart was. It reminded you of the other day, when he looked down at you the same way just before you freaked out.
You wouldn’t let yourself freak out this time.
“What were you saying?” You asked, not wanting to break the silence but also needing to know what the words he had said to you in the middle of your passion meant.
“I was saying,” he said, pausing to lean down and press a kiss to your lips, “that you are mine.”
Yeah, it was gonna hurt like hell when he left, but you were going to let yourself enjoy the happiness while you had it.
You had dozed off for only a few hours before you woke up again in Eddie’s arms.
Before you fell asleep you had both woken up and gotten cleaned up, sharing sleepy kisses in the bathroom as you ran warm water over the both of you.
But now you were blinking lazily, the room still dark and the only thing in your line of sight was Eddie, wrapped in one of your pink, fluffy throw blankets and blinking at the ceiling.
“What are you thinking about?” You wondered sleepily.
Eddie’s eyes snapped towards you, a smile gracing his face at the fact that you were awake. It made you shy, him looking at you like you were his favorite person in the universe. You tucked your face into the comforter to hide your bashful grin.
He popped the translator back under his tongue. Before you fell asleep he had taken it out again. He said it made his tongue and mouth sore since it wasn’t something that was to be worn all the time like he had been wearing it since he landed here.
You forgot sometimes that Eddie had only been here with you for three days. It felt like it had been a lifetime since he crash landed into your life. Shame and guilt crept through you at the thought of how quickly what happened between you and Eddie transpired, but the way he looked at you made the guilt disappear.
“I was thinking about home,” he admitted.
“Oh?” You asked, raised brow. “You miss it?”
Eddie thought for a moment before shaking his head. “I love home but I worry about my uncle. He will miss me the most and worry about where I went.”
“Well, maybe you’ll get the ship fixed sooner than you think and you can go home and explain what happened,” you offered, the words bitter on your tongue. You didn’t want to rush Eddie out of here, you wanted the exact opposite. But if he missed his home then you couldn’t make him stay. It wasn’t safe for him to stay.
The government would have a field day with him and you shivered at the thought.
Eddie just looked at you, like he was unsure what to say.
“Can I tell you about my home?”
You sat up, excited to hear about the planet he came from.
“It looks like earth but not the same. We have water as well that separates land. Our homes are smaller than yours and made out of a harder and smoother material. My city is known for trade and exporting so we get a lot of interesting things from other planets. We get a lot of travelers to my city because of that. I work on spaceships to earn my keep and get a lot of business when the travelers break down.” Eddie smirked at the thought and you had a feeling he was definitely overcharging them because they were out of towners.
“You work on spaceships? So you’re like a mechanic?”
“Mechanic,” Eddie repeated with a raised brow.
“They work on cars. Like my truck outside,” you explained.
Eddie thought for a moment before he smiled and agreed.
“Maybe one day in my lifetime they will make spaceships here on earth and then I can come visit and see your planet for myself,” you said. You had intended for your words to come out lighthearted, a dream that you both knew would never happen for either of you.
Eddie looked sad for a moment before he schooled his features.
“Come here,” he said as he reached under the comforter and wrapped a long arm around you to bring you closer to him. You settled into his cool skin, pressing your head into the crook of his neck.
“I have to be up in a couple of hours to take care of the farm,” you mumbled between a yawn.
“I can help you,” he hushed you, rubbing a hand up and down your arm.
You huffed out a laugh at the thought of Eddie on a tractor or feeding the chickens but you didn’t argue with him.
You wished you had words to explain the changes that had happened to you within a few days. How did you go from being so independent to snuggling a man that you barely knew?
There was an undeniable connection between you and Eddie that you couldn’t fight and wouldn’t fight. You were just going to enjoy it as much as you could.
You drifted off to sleep against him, promising yourself to live more in the moment.
And over the next month, you did.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson au#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie stranger things#eddie munson series#alien!eddie munson x farmer!reader#alien!eddie munson x reader#alien!eddie munson
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Safe With You
Warnings: homelessness, children living on the streets, stealing, let me know if I missed any :)
Pairings: Jason Todd x sister reader
Request: so it’s a Batsis X Jason Todd Story where both are biological siblings. And one day the children protection service comes to take her (because yk she is a street kid with no parents) and because Jason was like 8 or something at the time he of course couldn’t do much. She thinks he abandoned her after not coming for her and he feels guilty not finding her
Request by: @kiyomi-uchiha777
*not my gif*
Summary: Jason tried to keep you safe, he really did
A/N: I think I’m gonna do a part 2 for this at some point :)
Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work
You scrunched up your nose at Jason’s outstretched arm, turning wary eyes towards him, “Where did you get that?”
Your older brother sighed, “Don’t worry about it.” He answered, placing the bag of fast food in front of you.
In reality, he had of course stolen it, but he didn’t want to have to tell you that. That he had to resort to thievery to keep the two of you fed. Sure, he didn’t mind one bit, but you were only six and he didn’t want to have to try and explain it to you.
You shrugged to yourself, opening the bag and each grabbing a burger, leaning back against the alleyway wall and munching on your food.
The two of you had now been living on the streets for about three months now, and things were getting bad. But Jason would never admit that, especially to you.
There were far fewer places to stay then he would have thought, and he had a feeling the police were starting to catch onto the two kids who ran around the city unattended.
At first, he would have thought that they wouldn’t care in the slightest, but some too-long glances from any officer they ran into told him otherwise.
But letting the two of you get separated was the last thing he would ever let happen. You two weren’t going to be caught, and he was going to make sure of it.
He was only eight and he put the weight of the world on his shoulders. Keeping his little sister from getting taken.
“I think I saw them go down this way, officers.”
Just as the two of you were polishing off the fries Jason managed to swipe, a voice echoed through the alleyway, bouncing off the walls until it reached your ears.
Your eyes went wide at the same time Jason stiffened, face setting in a hard, determined look.
“Come on,” He said quietly, but sternly, gently helping you to your feet before nudging you down the opposite way the voices had come from, “Run.” He whispered in your ear.
And you did so right away, trusting your brother wholeheartedly to keep you safe, taking off down the alleyway as fast as your legs would carry you, Jason right on your trail.
“Hey! Stop right there!” A new voice shouted down, only prompting the two of you to move faster.
You wove in and out of alleyways, doing everything you could to lose the two officers following after you, but it was to no avail.
“Y/n,” Jason panted as he ran beside you, “I-I think we need to split up.”
Your eyes widened and you whipped your head around to face him, “What? Are you-“
“Just trust me.” He said, “I’ll lead them away from you.”
“But what about you?” You asked, even more panic setting in than before.
“Don’t worry about me,” He answered automatically, “I know how to lose them.”
With one last small smile of reassurance from your older brother, you mustered up all the strength and courage you could and quickly took a sharp left down a new alleyway the second he turned right.
“Come on,” Jason mumbled to himself, teeth gritted as he ran, “Follow me.”
But after running as fast as he could for a few minutes, he came to a skidding halt. There was no sound of thundering footsteps coming after him. No voice yelling at him to stop. The officers hadn’t gone after him. They had gone after you.
He let out a scream of frustration, quickly pivoting on his heel and running back the way he came, trying to get back to you.
You hadn’t even realized it had begun raining until you were forced to come to a stop, when your front collided with a solid brick wall and the raindrops splashed on top of your head. It was a dead end.
The officers had both followed you and they came to panting stops only a couple feet away from you.
“Finally,” The closer one huffed, “I’ve had enough of chasing you little rugrats around this city.”
“What about the boy?” The other one asked, trying to take large gulps of air.
He shrugged, “We were only told to pick up the girl. I don’t know anything about the boy. Therefore, it’s not my problem.”
Tears began mixing in with the rain that was running down your face as you cowered in the corner.
One of the officers sighed, “We’re not gonna hurt you, kid, just bring you into child protective service.”
You sobbed.
Where was Jason? He said it was going to be fine. He was supposed to protect you. You never should have agreed to separate because now-
One of them placed a gentle hand on your arm and began leading you out of the alleyway.
Jason ran until he too hit the wall that marked the end of the alleyway you had run down and he banged a fist against it.
You were gone. The officers had gotten you. He had no idea where you had been taken to.
Why had he run so far before checking that the officers were following him? Why did he make you split up?
It was his fault you were gone, and he had no idea how to get you back.
The Superior Robin ❤️- @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @i-writes-things @ladyagagaslefttoe @xbergiex
#platonic#platonic imagine#x reader#jason todd#jason todd x sister reader#jason todd x reader#jason todd x reader platonic#batfamily#batfamily x reader#batfamily x batsis#sister reader#child reader
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The Twin Jades
dude sometimes I just come across such bad meta. it's even worse if it starts off good and turns bad.
Good Meta Points:
• The Lans really love younger child Wangji (no pets allowed, but wangji can have them. Wangji wants lotus pod seeds and gets them etc.)
• Instead of giving agency to his actions and thoughts, they think he's being influenced or corrupted by others to act in such ways (especially Lan Qiren.)
Bad Meta Points
• Lan Wangji is spoilt, similar to Nie Huaisang or Jin Zixuan.
• Gets the lowest punishment at all times (pfft.)
• "I get it you waited 13 years but you fucked off into the sunset with your husband leaving your emotionally unstable brother and duties"
• "Good to see people talking about Lan Wangji's flaws" - mentions him being spoilt and demanding instead of his actual flaws.
Like... you cannot seriously point out how he gets to have rabbits as a point of him being spoilt. Lan Wangji has made like one error in his life in his studies. He's assigned himself punishment for stuff that wasn't even done by will (coughs, wwx). He's made his decisions and lived with the consequences.
Despite what you say, Lan Xichen isn't a terrible brother to Wangji. Neither is Lan Wangji a selfish brother.
Sibling relationships are complex, and between two individuals with their own set of values. Lan Wangji is totally righteous, even more than Nie Mingjue. He can't stand exaggerated, political loopholes and unrighteous acts. He does what he can do, working on the ground level.
Lan Xichen isn't Lan Wangji. He knows the world is filled with corrupted people, and challenging each and every one of them would lead to your own devastation (read: Wei Wuxian's biography). Thus, he tries extending his sympathy to all, and draws conclusions that allow the least possible damage. He does think Lan Wangji made a dire mistake with Wei Wuxian, because if not, he will have to face the fact that the world punished his brother for his righteousness and it would shatter his whole foundation (like it does).
But despite that, both of them share similarities. They both want the better of the world. Lan Wangji is brave enough to challenge the whole foundation of the cultivation world. Lan Xichen is brave enough to lay down peace even when it's so painfully obvious there's no option of it.
Lan Wangji trusts his brother enough to bring Wei Wuxian back to Cloud Recesses after getting stabbed at Jin Tower. Lan Xichen lives up to this trust and helps them investigate the matter. Lan Wangji even assures Wei Wuxian that his brother would not stand for Jin Guangyao if his crimes were true.
See, you don't have to completely have the same sort of sets of beliefs to be siblings. Sibling relationships are complex. Both these brothers know each other, their strengths and their weaknesses well. They may be exasperated at each other's insistence, yet they are well aware that they both have to walk their own paths.
Lan Xichen could never take away Lan Wangji's pain or fix him. Neither can Lan Wangji fix Lan Xichen.
But both of them will always have each other's backs. They are each other's families. Each other's brothers for life.
But at the same time, they have each their own paths to walk. People need to understand that it's not about a lack of sense of responsibility on Lan Wangji's side, but the realization that if he went back home, he may lose Wei Wuxian again. His uncle wants to take him back, lecture him and lock him into seclusion. His uncle wouldn't accept his proposal to be married to Wei Wuxian.
He doesn't give his uncle the chance to "accept" or not.
And he literally returns three months later.
I can't help but feel that those who say he was selfish do not have siblings. Or have bad sibling relationships. I'd say Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen have a perfectly good relationship if despite their differences, their terrible parentage, their opposing personalities, the roles they both played in each other's life (with Lan Xichen being sworn brothers to Jin Guangyao who played a major role in Wei Wuxian's fall, and Lan Wangji being Wei Wuxian's husband, who in turn, set the case back onto Jin Guangyao, thus hurting Lan Xichen), the things they couldn't help each other out of, but yet, they do trust each other and love each other.
And I trust that Lan Xichen will one day figure stuff out. There's a lyric in this MDZS song called unfettered. It is like:
The past is akin to dew in the morning. Even if it can be comprehended, it lays under layers and layers of fog.
In the end, hatred, love, resentment, debts and regrets all come to pass.
Just like how Lan Wangji is not his father, Lan Xichen will also not be his father. I don't think both of them had hurtful intentions towards the other at any point.
It's not like "Yunmeng bros" where JC intentionally wishes to cause pain to Wei Wuxian. It's not like the Nie bros, where NMJ has to be super over-protective of Huaisang.
It's just two siblings with their own lives choosing to be with each other, in happiness and in grief (mostly in grief uhm) in a terrible world where the road to hell is paved with good intentions.
#Lan wangji#lan xichen#twin jades#twin jades of gusu#my meta#mdzs#mo dao zu shi#mdzs meta#mdzs essay#my essays#my thoughts
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Oh and another thought on Johnny training his puppy-
You know how dogs have that one person they latch onto and get protective over if something happens to them or someone threatens them?
Simon is obviously Johnny's person and while Johnny knows Simon can take care of himself, he still can't help that protectiveness in him.
So maybe one day their little puppy tries to snap at Simon. Or maybe she even manages to hit him during a punishment.
And Simon, in his daze at their little puppy's audacity to even do that, doesn't get a chance to react because good boy Johnny immediately reacts to snarl at her. He stands protectively in front of Simon, baring his teeth at her and growling that no one lays a finger on his person, not even his beloved puppy.
So with a quick glance back at Simon to see if he's okay (obviously he is) and asking him if he can punish the pup instead, Simon let's Johnny take care of their naughty little puppy, showing her that if she wants to act like a big bad dog, then she can play with one too.
By the end of the lesson, Johnny gets endless praises for being a good boy and the naughty puppy spends the night in the kennel, whimpering at how sore and achy she feels.
- 🥍
i don't even know what to DO with this one. it's like you've sent me solid gold and asked me for an opinion. bitch it's solid gold!!!!
imagining that simon is hauling you her off for a punishment and she gets a lucky hit on his nose, something that takes him completely by surprise and has him flinching back instinctively. it doesn't actually hurt that bad but a full-strength punch to the nose will have anyone at least a little disorientated
and johnny just loses his fucking mind. no one gets to hurt ghost. that's not how this works. ghost is strong and incredibly capable of taking care of himself but when he isn't, johnny protects him. he's not allowed to get hurt - do you have any idea how fucked johnny would be without ghost??? no, it's not an option to let ghost get hurt
so it's mostly an instinctual thing that has him pinning you to the floor by your throat. he's the only one who really knows what's going on, you haven't even really realized you managed to hit ghost, and ghost is blinking spots out of his vision
you've never seen johnny so animalistic, seen him so angry. he's probably past the point of words, you hardly even realize why he's angry when he's got you in a grip so tight you can hardly breathe
he'd hardly remember to ask for permission to punish you - doesn't even really ask tbh. he'd tear his eyes from yours to look up at ghost, and ghost would give him a nod and say smth like "go ahead, johnny. teach her her place again."
anyways he fucks you very rough with like no prep :/ horribly uncomfortable and painful for you, but your screams don't stop him. he'd bite nearly through your skin along your neck and back, leave you mottled with painful bruises. your knees and elbows would be bruised, a layer of skin scraped off from how much they rub against the floors when he thrusts.
he'd fuck your ass too. barely give you any stretch, just jacks himself to full hardness, slips you maybe two fingers?, and uses the lube from your cunt to fuck you. takes him longer to come the second time, and he doesn't get you off at all :/
makes you crawl to the bedroom & crate on your own. johnny is right there on all fours beside you, pushing and biting you whenever you stop crawling, keeps shoving you where you need to be. he's mean about it, snarling and growling right in your face, leaving bites down your arms and legs
simon locks you in your cage, doesn't even bother looking at you as he goes to give his puppy a reward. leaves you there all night, listening to how nice he is to johnny, how good johnny gets to feel after behaving so well
(they'll give her a nice warm bath in the morning to ease her muscles a bit)
#🥍 anon#asks and answers#ghoap x reader#i have no idea if gold is actually valuable but we'll pretend it is. just you and me 🥍#i spelled surprise surrprise the first time i wrote it. just so you know#i cant fucking TYPE#bo writes
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If We Make It Through December
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader
Author's note: June write something that doesn't have religious imagery in it challenge
Summary: “I am yours. If I died in this moment, I am yours.” - James Joyce aka the first installment of the winter trilogy [1.9k]
Warnings: tlou winter, reader yells at Ellie, (probably) incorrect wound care (I'm a writer, not a doctor), discussions of Tess, bad coping mechanisms, intrusive thoughts, bargaining with god??, I think that's it
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." Ellie mutters as you check Joel's pulse. He's finally conscious again, which is good, but he either can't speak or won't. When Ellie applies pressure to the hole in his stomach, he grips her arm hard. Good to see he's got some strength left, you think as she winces but doesn't push him off. You look between the blood staining his shirt and his pale face as a million thoughts run through your head. "Is he gonna be okay?" Ellie asks, and her and Joel's eyes land on you. You take a shaky breath and look around the room for anything to help. Fabric, alcohol, even an extra pillow or mattress to elevate his feet to slow the bleeding, but find nothing.
"He's losing a lot of blood." You say, pulling Ellie's hands away from the bloody rag and replacing them with your own. Joel croaks your name, but you ignore him. "I need to stitch him up before he can lose any more. Check the bathrooms, kitchen, whatever. Bring me whatever you can find that looks like it could help."
"What if I can't find anything?" She asks. Joel repeats your name, his voice breaking over the sound when you put more pressure on his stomach. He groans in pain, and his fists ball up next to him, but you don't move. Neither does Ellie. "Is he gonna die?"
"I don't know, Ellie!" You yell harshly. She stumbles back at your sudden volume change but doesn't say anything. "Go!" You point up the stairs as you yell, and she scrambles out of the basement to raid the house for whatever she can find. When you turn back to Joel, he's staring at you with hazy eyes. You linger on them for a second before returning to his wound.
"You need to leave." He mumbles, and you shake your head.
"Shut the fuck up, Joel. I'm trying to think."
"Go North. Go back to Tommy. He'll take care of ya."
"Stop. I'm not having this conversation with you right now." You say, and he grabs your sleeve and hauls you to him with all the strength he has left.
"You take her and the gun, and you go. D'you hear me? Leave me here." He struggles, and his breathing gets shallower as he tries to maintain some semblance of control over the situation. You set your jaw as you stare at him.
"You are my partner," you say through gritted teeth. "You are my partner, and I'm not leaving you to die because I've already lost two partners. Two," you rip your hand away from him to put two fingers up. "And I'm not letting you be the third because you wanna pull this martyrdom bullshit. So, just shut the fuck up and let me work, or I will kill you myself, do you understand?" You both know you wouldn't, but he does as he's told and stays quiet as you internally panic.
You're too far from Jackson to get him there, and there's no way he'd survive that long in the cold. Any sign of civilization is miles in the opposite direction, and even then, you're responsible for the deaths of those hunters. All it took was one afternoon and a pack of fucking monkeys to get a bounty on your heads. He's bleeding too quickly, and the heat of it makes your head swim.
"I got something!" Ellie shouts as she runs down the stairs. "This is what I could find," she breathes hard as she hands you a sewing needle and thread. The black thread is old and fraying, and the needle has touched God knows what in the past twenty years. You pat down Joel's jacket pockets but find them devoid of the old lighter you watched him light fires with just a few days ago. It must've fallen out at the university.
"Fuck," you mutter. There's no way to sterilize the needle, but if you don't do something soon, he's going to die. You sigh and shake your head. Beggers can't be choosers. "Do you know how to do stitches?" You ask Ellie, making Joel's eyes widen. She blinks at you like she's not sure if you're talking to her before shaking her head. "Okay, then I need you to pay attention because I'm probably not gonna get another chance to show you."
You grab Joel's half-empty flask from his chest pocket, his place for all the things he tries to hide from you, and pour the alcohol over the stab. He yells in pain, and the veins in his neck bulge as he looks away from you and the threatening needle. Then, in one quick motion, you start a suture. The thread surprisingly holds, and you can encourage his skin back together. You mumble an encouragement to yourself and Ellie watches with bated breath as you weave in and out of the bloody mess with a precision that shocks even you. You use up what you can and manage to stitch the jagged cut together. The gushing of blood stops, and his breathing evens out. He's safe. Alive. Unconscious, but he's alive.
You let out a sigh of relief and tie off your sutures, quietly explaining the process to an attentive Ellie. "Were you able to find a first aid kit or bandages or anything?" You ask, and she shakes her head.
"Just some old towels." She says, pulling one from a stack you didn't see before and handing it to you. The floral print is faded and seen far better days, but it's the best you can do. Carefully, you replace the bloody cloth with the old tea towel in place of a bandage. You check his pulse and count his breaths before your body can even register the blood and sweat covering your clothes and skin.
"He's okay for now. We need to change the towel every couple of hours and watch out for any signs of his body rejecting the stitches. I might be able to find something to replace them with, but I don't know."
"Why would he reject the stitches?" She asks.
"Sewing thread and a needle from twenty years ago aren't exactly standard practice for stitches. Nothing about this was sterile, but I just needed the bleeding to stop."
"Have you done this before?"
"What? Stitches?" You ask, and she nods as you wipe your face with the back of your hand. "Yeah. They used to give me a run for my money, trying to keep them from dying from all their bumps and bruises. Luckily enough, we had a connection at the hospital in Boston. Kept floating me supplies to keep 'em out of the emergency room."
"Joel or Tess?" She clarifies, and her name feels like ice being poured down your back. You clear your throat and busy yourself with placing a blanket over Joel so she can't see the shine in your eyes. When will it get easier to talk about her?
"Both. Tess never liked doctors, but she'd let me help her sometimes. Even then, it was like trying to put lipstick on a pig. Wouldn't sit still," you say. "I'm gonna go wash up. Stay here with him." You pull yourself to your feet and walk up the stairs without a second look at Joel or Ellie.
You take a scoop of freshly fallen snow from the pile in the kitchen and find a bathroom just off the hallway leading to the dining room. You melt the snow between your palms to get a little water to scrub Joel's blood from your hands. It's everywhere. Under your fingernails, up your arms, even on your face, you realize when you look into the splintered mirror above the sink.
You want to go back to the campus, track down whatever hunters might be left, and break their jaws. You want them to hurt the way he's hurting. You want to trade ten of them for Joel. Their faces play on a loop in your mind as the dusty sink stains red. Over and over again, you get snow and scrub at your hands until your fingers are raw. You've learned that harsh hand washing after failing to protect someone is a habit from pre-med. Adam used to grab your hands before you could rip your palms open. Joel would turn off the water and wordlessly pull you away. But now Adam's dead, Joel is barely breathing, and you're alone.
You're alone. You're alone. You're alone. Why didn't you do anything to stop them? Why didn't you take the shiv instead of Joel? How could you be so stupid? This is the other shoe. This is the price of caring about him. This is the price you pay every single fucking time. Is Ellie next? Tommy? You're alone. You're alone. You'll always be alone.
The repetition is silenced only when you suddenly drive your fist into the already broken mirror. You rip down whatever is left on the bathroom walls before kicking the door open. Your vision blurs as you kick and punch and rip anything you can get close enough to. Debris flies past your head, but you don't flinch. You're tired of flinching. You're alone. Another hit and the wall rattles with force. They always die. Your knuckles sting. You're going to have to bury them both. You grab an old pillow and shove it in your face before screaming as much as you can.
You don't stop until your voice gives out and your hands shake. The room is a mess around you— holes in walls, glass on the floor, and a knocked-over bookshelf. You flex your hand around the pillow, and pain shoots through your arm. Not broken, you decide after a quick poke around. But definitely fucked up. You sigh and look around for the first time since dragging Joel through the abandoned home.
From the living room floor, the house looks so much bigger. Pictures of a once-known family smile down at you menacingly with their security and perfect, alive children. The books scattered around you range from financial self-help to Goodnight Moon and tell the story of a college-educated couple with enough money to be stupid with it. For a split second, you wonder what happened to them before deciding to reign that thought before it gets too far. Ellie needs you. You need to get back downstairs and pretend like everything's okay. You can't afford to waste any more time up here.
You shakily pull yourself up and turn to walk down to the basement when a wooden cross nailed to the wall stops you in your tracks. It's old like everything else in the house, but you can tell this was here even before Cordyceps. It could've been a family heirloom or a wedding present. It was loved. The people who hung it were loved, but you don't feel any love when you look at it. You walk to the wall until it's directly in front of you, and your aching fingers twitch to rip it down. You take a deep breath and look up at the ceiling, not exactly sure what you're doing or why.
"Don't you take him," you whisper. "Don't you fucking take him from me, do you understand? It's not his turn." You feel stupid talking to God or the ceiling or whatever, but you can't stop. "You either kill me first, or you leave him alone because I'm not doing this without him. After everything you've put me through, you owe me a fucking favor or two. It's not his time. Back off." After one last glare at the cross, you leave the destroyed living room with the feeling of eyes watching your every step.
I'm serious, you think. Not him. Not now. Not while I'm alive, you selfish piece of shit.
TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha
#the last of us#joel miller#joel miller x reader#the last of us x reader#joel miller the last of us#joel miller fic#joel tlou#the last of us angst#the last of us fic#ellie the last of us#joel the last of us#tlou hbo#joel and ellie#the last of us hbo#joel miller x you#joel miller x female reader#joel miller angst
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So, since BB!Ivypool will use her newfound deputy status to force a confrontation with Dovewing- how would she react if Dovewing snaps and told her to her face that she never, EVER wanted to speak with her again after everything? Like, would it click for her that even if she deeply regrets the way she treated her sister, no matter how sorry she is its up to Dovewing if she's ever forgiven? Or does she blame Heartstar thinking she turned her sister against her?
Let's pop open the hood of BB!Ivypool and her fucked up little life, and every person she's been leading up to the end of BB!TBC.
All of this starts with her father, Lionblaze, raising her with this axiom; That you are given strength to serve your Clan.
While he used Dovepaw and her powers in service of ThunderClan (often fighting with her mentor, Birchfall), Lionblaze encouraged his daughter to involve herself in Dark Forest training. Ivypaw felt like this was how she "earned" affection from her Ba, with hard work.
Just as Lionblaze believed that his physical abuse at the paw of Ashfur made him stronger, Ivypool also came to believe that growing up thrown to the wolves made her stronger too.
So when Dovewing first started to... not even REJECT the idea, just display any resentment towards it at all, it's like a personal slight.
No one ever fucking listens to Dovewing. No one cares what she wants. Just what she can do for them.
And Ivypool was super part of that. Her mentor is Brightheart, who often overexerts herself as an expression of PTSD. She saw Hawkfrost "die" turning against Tigerstar for the greater good. She sees Bumblestripe "working so hard" to "help Dovewing adjust" while she's losing her hearing.
In her eyes, Dovewing was being selfish. Look at all these people who give EVERYTHING to their Clans-- how dare you try and make it about yourself?
Tigerheart, in and out of their life constantly, gets blamed because it's a lot easier to pin it all on the Evil Codebreaking Foreigner than admit that maybe Dovewing has a point. Ah HA! THERE is the villain responsible for making my sister act weird! I knew it all along!
(Plus Tigerheart and Ivypool got pitted against each other a LOT in DF training because Ivy was Hawkfrost's apprentice and Tigerheart was Tigerstar's, for some incredibly fucked up projection reasons you'd expect of Tunnelbunstar. Ivypool will nonsensically blame Tigerheart like she's a Dinkleberg.)
(Also tbf tigerheart would 100% let her believe it, 1. Because it's funny, and 2. Because it takes the heat off Dovewing)
And Ivypool was VICIOUS about this. AVoS is still getting shuffled but if anything vindictive she did towards Dove in that arc gets removed, I will replace it with something just as bad. She would actively sabotauge ShadowClan if it meant keeping Tigerheart away from Dovewing.
She can't handle the thought of losing Dovewing. At some point, it became about control. It's her insecurity towards herself, towards her family, towards all of her losses, and even towards service of her very Clan.
And then Dovewing booked it. Couldn't handle this shit and panicked and BAILED.
And THEN it's about getting Dovewing BACK. She's even dragged Fernsong into this and tried to leverage his friendship with Dovewing to this end. She'll even support Bumblestripe when he tries to argue for an invalidation of Queen’s Rights on technicality.
Ivypool: "Those kits are Bumblestripe's! He has a claim! They even have HIS MANE"
Heartstar: "Hmm. No, it is very clearly MY mane."
Ivypool: "You can't-- wait what?"
Heartstar: "Lightkit even has my beautiful smile <3 so fuck off, maybe?"
For a long time that's where Ivypool was. She was the awful, vindictive sister-in-law constantly trying to weasel in to make Dovewing feel bad. When she had kittens of her own, she was still in this mindset.
It didn't end well. In BB!TBC, Bristlefrost needed her. Ivypool stepped in to prevent her from being the impostor's pawn, but refused to do anything when she was caught and imprisoned for being in a HalfClan relationship. She needed to be punished as a codebreaker.
Brought to the next Gathering, the impostor reiterated the need to enforce the code, and desperate times calling for desperate measures. He called for SkyClan to punish their own warrior. They refused to make this a public spectacle.
So he sliced open her throat, right on the branch beside him.
Ivypool didn't imagine she would be KILLED. Suddenly her whole world shattered. The moon stayed clear and bright. Her daughter was dead before she hit the ground and she had HERSELF to blame.
Dovewing and Ivypool served in the rebellion together, and eventually Ivy went into the Dark Forest as a Light in the Mist. She watched Bristlefrost die, AGAIN, knocking Ashfur out of the sky and burning them both up in orbit, and how brave Shadowsight had been in pinning him in place.
Ivypool NEEDS Dovewing to know now that she's different. She's learned a lot. She understands so, so much more now...
But DOES she? She still hates Heartstar's guts. She still feels abandoned. How different ARE you now, Ivypool, with your renewed interest in finding some petty reason to skirt around Dovewing's direct wishes? When you're still here getting into blowout arguments with Heartstar?
So to answer the question, if Dovewing told her directly, "I WANT NOTHING TO DO WITH YOUR DESPERATION. IM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR FEELINGS. PISS OFF"
Ivypool would not be able to accept that.
It just wouldn't stick, ever. It really is desperation. Dovewing NEEDS to know that Ivypool loves her and misses her, and that she understands, but also that Heartstar is delusional, and this is still kind of Dovewing's fault. And Ivypool will do anything to make her know this.
But I also DO want to say; this is a very unique weakness. It is Dovewing Derangement Syndrome. Ivypool is a competent deputy, and she is a devoted and respected warrior of ThunderClan. It will be no surprise she's being picked for deputy, especially considering (god willing) Squirrelstar is seeking war with ShadowClan.
She is a good friend, mate, and leader. But BB!Ivypool is so, so fucked in the head about Dovewing. This family can fit so much trauma in it
#BB!Ivypool#Better bones au#BB!OOTS#bb!TBC#BB!Dovewing#BB!Heartstar#Ivy is both a victim and a perpetrator. I do have sympathy for her#Which I think is what really makes this so juicy#But your pain doesn't mean you get to have whatever you want#Or even whatever you think you need#I think it's hard to explain it because it's not logical AT ALL#It's a boiling soup of strong and desperate emotions that Ivy has not unpacked#And how can you even? SO much has happened to Ivy#So many awful and DIFFERENT things#I want to study her#For the record btw I am on Dovewing's side in this conflict tho lmaoooooooo#Dovewing I'm so sorry. It's extremely fun watching Ivypool try to break into your house to rearrange your fridge magnets to say 'TALK TO ME#You deserve better. But I cant look away.#Dovewing is trying so hard to become a background character it's hysterical#Girl you are in the Main Character Family (for bb at least) you are not allowed to have a peaceful life with your beautiful wife
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New to your blog, but I’m curious. What if your ocs: Ricky and Ashley fought over a darling?
No cuz why this such a scrumptious thought🤔
For this scenario let's say you just moved into your new apartment complex and are sandwiched between the rugged cowboy named Ashley, he lives on your left and is all too eager to help you move in, and on the right was the stern faced bad boy with a heart of gold Ricky who drinks you in through his door's peephole, a goofy smile on his face the whole time you're moving, his heart doing backflips as he watched your clumsy yet all the more charming movements.
Pretty soon after meeting you, both men are absolutely smitten and working up their individual courage to ask you out, Ashley is a helper by nature, he uses your crappy apartment complex to his advantage, offering to help with leaky pipes or squeaky hinges, he somehow manages to always catch you on the way back from the store, the beefy blonde making sure to subtly flex while he takes the many bags from you hands.
Ricky keeps his cards close to his chest, "coincidentally" getting his mail whenever you do, lingering around the lobby when he knows you get off work, just for that five minute elevator ride, rizz's you up the entire time, he gives you a coffee one morning when your machine randomly breaks down (he totally didn't sneak into your apartment with a screwdriver and purposely dismantle it last night when you went on your usual snack run he swears) he always makes you smile with a witty comment or snide joke at the expense of your terrible landlord.
The second they notice one another circling like sharks, it's an all out war. A war you can't see but a war nonetheless. Sneers and heated glares, scalding comments and passive aggression flood the air any time to two are in a shared space. They keep it cute when you're in sight but the second you can't hear the claws come out honey.
"You think your slick you limp-shrimp-dicked backwater country bumpkin, I see you creeping around her, yeah that's done."
"Oh that's real cute coming from a sissy boy like you, hey how much time you reckon you spend in the mirror each mornin'?"
If we're talking a physical fight for their Darling Ashley would mop the floor with our boy Ricky, hate to say it but all his prowess is useless against the cowboy, he's got that country grown strength and is used to wrestling dangerous animals, no matter how hard he fought if it comes to fists, Ricky is going down.
However if it's not physical, Ricky would play Ashley like a mf fiddle.
Ricky the type to have cameras in your house like a week after he decides your his, it's hard not to take note of the way Ashley finds so many irritating ways to linger like the fly he was, Ricky would come to the quick conclusion that Ashley is a threat.
All it would take was one phone call to a friend of a friend for Ricky to get all the information he needed to know about Ashley. He comes over at some point that afternoon, booze and snacks in hand, he comes over under the guise of watching a bunch of movies he knew you'd been meaning to watch because the last time he snuck in he looked through your watchlist, you and Ricky spend the day getting blasted and enjoying each other's company, when just as he predicted, Ashley comes knocking, you answer the door in a blissfully tipsy haze, excited to see your other new friend and greet him happily, Ricky comes up behind you with the biggest grin, his face flushed, and rests his chin gently on your shoulder, you lean back into his chest holding the buzzed conversation with your other neighbor, Ricky reveled in the way the tall man twitched at the scene before him, not only did you feel absolutely perfect in his arms, he could see Ashley visibly deflating the longer you two stood there in the comfortable embrace.
All it would take was one well timed kiss to your temple for Ashley to lose it.
Ashley's composure would immediately break and he'd make a show of losing his temper, throwing Ricky off of you and grabbing the lean man by his shirt collar, it instantly kills your buzz and you're yanking the snarling Blonde off by the back of his shirt.
Ricky let's himself get a little roughed up, and you kick Ashley to the curb with a curse, you spend the rest of the night nursing his wounds and fall right into his palms where you belonged
#yananswers#anon submission#yandere#yandere x reader#Yandere oc x reader#ricky Delmont x reader#ricky Delmont#Ashley Hunt#Ashley Hunt x reader#yandere x y/n
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How do you think Makoto`s and Nagito`s luck work?
*deeep breath*
*Slams my ruler onto the whiteboard* ALRIGHT
To understand Makoto and Nagito's luck, we must first understand Luck in the Danganronpa universe.
First off their are multiple types of luck, and not all luck talents are built the same. That's the first thing you need to understand, every luck talent is a unique personal talent to each individual. Luck talents can't really be compared because they're so different from each other and can even create other talents.
Case in point the true second luck talent we had in the series...CELESTIA LUDENBERG. While not the ultimate lucky student, her gambling talent is NEAR COMPLETE LUCK, something she FREELY ADMITS.
While this kind of thinking is more associated with Komaeda, it is actually CELESTE who first brings up luck as something beyond just chance, but instead as something more akin to religion. She even compares it to fate, Celestia will tell us in her FIRST free time event exactly what she thinks of luck. Which correlates well with Komaeda’s thinking. First of all the immutability of it, that you are simply born with that luck and nothing can ever change it, then there is the thought there is no inbetween luck it is only Good luck or Bad luck and it’s those two things that determine basically everything. Celestia and Komaeda have a very similar worldview, the only difference is the fact Celeste’s luck is only good and has such given her a much more positive view of it. Celeste seems to have spent a lot of time thinking about luck, and has a lot of faith in it, seen how in another free time events despite not knowing how to even play, she won a Shogi gambling competition.
While Celeste has a habit of exaggerating and dramatics, I think she’s telling the truth about this story, it matches up with her beliefs after all. No skill or talent carried her through to the end and to victory, just pure luck, her gambling luck that is the basis of her talent.
From this we learn that luck talents are much broader then just ‘lucky student’ and can make up a lot of different talents based on how it presents themselves with everyone having unique sets of luck and activation requirements. With both her and Komaeda sharing similar views on luck, it’s clear that those with lucky talents tend to find luck to be immutable and simply just a piece of ones self that can never be changed. Luck is everything to those with powerful enough luck, to the point it becomes almost blinding and overshadows skill, though Celeste seems to feel a bit ashamed that she didn’t at least make an attempt at having skill at Shogi. A little dog can’t become a big dog, and someone with bad gambling luck can never have good gambling luck and vice versa.
This isn’t true.
As you may have noticed if her gambling luck is that good that it overrides skill completely, then how did she lose? By how her talent works as long as it’s a gamble, she wins. Period. Nothing to be done about it. How did she lose the gamble of her life?
Easy, Makoto’s luck works as a luck nullifier.
You may be asking what the hell I’m talking about and I redirect your attention to the short story of Makoto Naegi’s Worst Day Ever.
“People often say that men are defined by their names, and indeed, in his thirty-two years on Earth, Jutarou had never once thought of himself as unlucky. In fact, he had been blessed with abnormally good luck. By the very nature of his work, he had found himself in a number of dangerous situations in the past, but every time—without fail—a series of fortunate flukes guided him to safety.
While his luck could be considered one of his strengths, he wasn’t fond of admitting it.
Rather, allowing himself to end up in situations where the outcome was in fate’s hands was unacceptable to him. He knew good and well that, in his line of work, even the smallest of slip-ups could mean disaster.
Jutarou was a thief.
The most important thing to him when he was on a job was reducing the potential influence of forces outside his control—luck, other people—to an absolute minimum. In his mind, a thorough, well crafted plan was the cornerstone of any job. He always formulated and executed his plans by himself, and any job for which that wasn’t possible, he wouldn’t take. There was nothing worse than being betrayed by a partner who let his greed get to his head, and besides, Jutarou didn’t need anyone slowing him down. And he especially didn’t need to be asking for help from on high.
Naturally, his current job was no different. He had planned everything and put that plan into action all by himself. His target had been a small jewelry store in a nearby shopping district. Jutarou had received information that, despite looking run-down, the store had a hidden stash of extremely valuable jewels. And to top it off, the owner was a bit of a penny-pincher, so security was light.
It was an incredible opportunity—the kind that you only ever got once or twice.
So Jutarou crafted an intricate, but bold, plan, and then he went through with it. Naturally—as far as he was concerned—everything went without a hitch, exactly as it was supposed to. His plan was perfect, leaving no room whatsoever for outside interference. And there had been none.
Spoils tucked away in his bag, he calmly stepped onto the bus. Jutarou liked to make use of public transportation as much as possible while on a job. It was easier to blend into the crowd in a bustling city by riding a bus or train than it was driving a car or motorcycle, and by dressing like a businessman on the job, he practically disappeared.
The disguise worked, too. Not a person on that bus gave him a second look as he took an open seat at the front.
Finally certain he had completed his work, Jutarou let out a small sigh of relief. As the bus vibrated gently beneath him, he silently basked in the satisfaction of a job well done.
And then, a sick twist of fate made quick work of everything he had accomplished. Only, it wasn’t his luck that laid everything to waste—rather, he was just caught in the crossfire of some teenage boy’s misfortune. Some boy who just happened to climb onto the same bus as him. It was a stroke of bad luck so overwhelming that even Jutarou who, up to that point, had been blessed with such incredibly good luck, was helpless to prevent it”
Meet Jutarou who appears to have a luck talent of his own, the main antagonist in the short story. While he doesn’t like purely to rely on it, he notes that he is a very lucky man and multiple times in the story comments about how his luck never fails him. Until it does. Makoto Naegi’s bad luck was so strong, it had OVERRIDDEN his good luck, giving Jutarou bad luck to give Makoto WORSE luck.
This trend continues throughout the story, despite Jutarou’s best efforts and best luck to get himself not arrested, Makoto’s sheer bad luck is enough to dissuade EVERY attempt as the situation only gets worse and worse for Makoto until it ends up with the groceries that Makoto was ORIGINALLY SENT TO GET ending up basically exploding.
This incident directly leads into Makoto getting into Hope’s Peak, as his luck is SO BAD that in that same explosion the original lottery winners invitation gets destroyed and they do a new drawing, this time pulling Makoto’s name.
Luck talents have no effect on Makoto because his luck counteracts it, it doesnt matter how good your luck is, if Makoto’s luck wants to involve you, you have no control over the luck in the situation anymore. From this we learn Luck talents interacting with each other can have odd effects, especially if Makoto is involved.
There is a second piece of evidence that Luck talents aren’t quite as straightforward as “you’re born with it” and his name, is the mortal god himself, Izuru Kamukura
As Hajime Hinata, his luck is well, it’s not great, but I wouldn’t call it bad either. He’s average, very plainly average. Then he got a lobotomy and became Izuru, and suddenly something has changed. Izuru DOES have good luck, and he has an intense amount of control over his luck that he can even can beat Komaeda in a gun fight. Which means not only is Luck a real talent despite how Komaeda bemoans, it has some way to quantifiably measure and implant it as his Luck talent is just as artificial as the rest of his talents. Luck isn’t just chance or fate, it’s a legitimate part of someones body that can be implanted into someone else with the right tools. Which is, SO MUCH TO UNPACK.
We don’t learn HOW they implanted luck, so we can only guess where luck resides within a human body. Wherever it is though, this implies while people are indeed born with a specific luck pattern that is otherwise immutable this pattern can be tampered and changed by an outside source with the right know how. Celeste is essentially correct in the fact humans are born programmed with the luck they have, but we lack the specifics. I am pointing a gun at the hope cultivation program if you’re going to break the geneva convention at least LET ME KNOW how you implanted fucking LUCK!
Luck is beyond just how we view luck in our world, luck is an inherent part of them, I’d dare to even call it another sense. Like a sense of sight or sense of direction, everyone has a sense of luck. Some don’t have much of it, some of them have little, and some of them have enough of it that it almost seems like a magical power.
Of course now that we have a loose understanding of how luck just works in this setting, this tells us little on how luck works for those two specifically.
Makoto’s luck is known to be the most confusing even in universe, as his luck is a liar. Bad luck often is good luck often is bad luck. It is impossible to tell if something is good or bad when it comes to his luck until like three years later after all the dominoes and butterfly effects have mostly settled. Celeste says there is no in-betweens but Makoto’s luck LOVES its grey areas. Making things be both bad and good at the same time, Makoto’s luck cannot be divided into good or bad because it’s always both at the same damn time. The only think about his luck that’s in any way clear is that it refuses to let him die. No matter how bad his luck seems, the moment he could genuinely die, his luck swoops in to grab him from the brink.
Like yeah he lived thats good but now he has trauma and thats bad and now he can help and thats good but that helping is also being used as propaganda and that’s bad. Makoto lives in a state of greys, his luck refuses the black and white views of Celeste or Komaeda, everything his luck does will be both bad and good, creating mostly just confusion. It’s easy to see how Makoto just kinda shrugs it off as just unfortunate and moves on with his life, his luck keeps trying to be good and bad at the same time.
Then there’s Komaeda, who has only bad luck. Which you may be saying “what? But his luck can be good!” and I ask you how good his luck really is? His luck constantly kills the people around him and even killed him. Sure sometimes he gets paltry rewards like money or freedom, but in reality, the scales are NOT balanced. An inheritance can’t make up for dead parents, winning the lottery doesn’t erase the trauma of being kidnapped.
Even moments where his luck seems to work in his favor only makes him miserable, winning russian roulette wasn’t a triumph or good luck for him really, it only drove him insane.
If I had to name Komaeda’s luck I’d go for something like short term benefits with long term consequences. The bad effects of his luck always echo farther and go on for longer then the good effects which are often quick distractions or quick victories. However Komaeda lets himself settle for this, pretending like the scales actually have any meaning, letting himself have bad luck and thinking the small rewards of it measures up to the sheer amount of bad luck it took.
Komaeda’s luck can give him the things he needs in the moment, but there is always consequences for it’s use. Komaeda pretends like it's an equivalent exchange, but actually looking at, even the 'good' parts often brings him suffering. Like yeah he's rich and has freedom, but he's lonely and unable to connect to people. Even the best parts of his luck are only good short term before also becoming more akin to bad luck.
His luck is basically a deal with the devil, he receives pain and suffering, and he receives... a whole bunch of sodas! Just ignore the fact the scars will last longer then the soda and you can pretend it all balanced out.
It’s easy to see how he fell into the viewpoints he did when he basically has to lie to himself to make his luck more tolerable or seem fair. Especially because unlike Makoto's, his luck seems perfectly willing to kill him if he's not careful.
Of course these are only my current views on their luck cycles, my mind and thoughts are CONSTANTLY changing on this, because it’s just, so nebulous. One of these days I’d love to do a luck deep dive on all the characters and see what other talents are secretly luck talents.
#LUCK IN DANGANRONPA THE FUCKS YOUR DEAL#makoto naegi#danganronpa meta#trigger happy havoc#goodbye despair#danganronpa 3#meta#goodbye despair meta#trigger happy havoc meta#danganronpa 3 meta#musings from the music manager#nagito komaeda#celestia ludenberg#izuru kamukura#hajime hinata#anon chaos
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MIkey Crush headcanons? GN!Reader
⇢ ˗ˏˋ pairing: mikey x gn!reader ࿐ྂ
⇢ ˗ˏˋ warnings: fluff and oblivious pinning, mentions of death ࿐ྂ
⇢ ˗ˏˋ masterlist ࿐ྂ
Mikey is so blindly in love that it hurts... more so everyone around him who has to bear witness to his lovesick attitude
But what really hurts the most is how oblivious he is to his own emotions, or better yet, the concept of love itself
He's never really seen himself with an s/o or starting his own family. Anytime he thinks about the future, he's just surrounded by friends and their own children, merely happily existing in their lives and he seems fine with that simple lovely daydream
Never once in his life has he thought about what it might be like to have that domestic life... well, that was until you came into the picture.
Whatever brought you into his world and made fate steer your paths together, it'd have to be a few times before he finally took interest.
Whether he happened to see something you did or if you had a more personal and close experience with him, whatever it was you did, it surely caught his interest
It wasn't a crush at first... more like innocent curiosity or nearing admiration
He was more subtle in the beginning, short glances, brief greetings and such
And then it became more to the point Draken and Mitsuya picked up his behavior.
Staring almost in a dreamily way, holding longer conversations even if you two knew nothing about each other, actually interested when your name is brought up in a conversation, oh and let's not forget him ReMemBeRiNg things about you that anyone else would have easily forgotten. 😳
Nobody really commented on it until it started getting out of hand
Mikey would have ✨m o o d s w i n g s✨ and everyone but him understood why
He's all happy, giddy, practically bouncing off the walls when you're in his presence. Then immediately after you leave, he's all mopey and annoyed
You know it's bad if he loses his appetite for food
OKAY DRAKEN GET TO WORK 👏🏾
At this point, the entire gang knows about Mikey's little crush, but the worse thing about it... is that the two of you are barely acquaintances 💀
So, when Draken tries to explain to Mikey how he should probably befriend you considering he has a cr-
"KEN-CHIN THATS A GREAT IDEA!! I'm pretty sure Hina's tired of me stealing her boyfriend all the time."
"N-No that's not what I'm-"
Annnd he's gone. God give Draken the strength he's on his 12th reason
And guess what? He doesn't even ask you, deadass just declares you're his friend while the whole gang facepalms 😒💢 That idiot...
Well, at least you're friends now so that could ease his attitude...
It does for a while, until he starts getting jealous when he sees Takemichi around you more often (totally not because you're vital in Mikey's future or anything)
He's grumpy about it, but at the same time not really aware why he's mad about it because it's just his two friends hanging out! what's so bad about that? Everything's fine and- why are they laughing together?? What's funny? What did he say??
He really pulls a >:(
Bro chill, that's not yo s/o
"Earth to Mikey? Hello?" "Huh..?" "You done sending death glares at michi?"
He's so confused... poor boi. He has the best intentions tho
Of course michi noticed his friend's stare, damn near felt the daggers that Mikey gazed at him. So michi lowkey drops the tea on your likes and interests (some info he got from the future- best wingman!) and tells Mikey maybe he should yk... ask you out?
Ask out... as a friend right?
He didn't get the memo... chile help this man
This part is dedicated to my future mikey x reader series so here's some exclusive hcs
Mikey won't ask you out. At this point he knows he "likes" you, but not in the yk "like like love" typa way, so he's still oblivious (i mean you both are to an extent)
One of the cutest things he'll do is take you out on these unofficial dates.
Its not really a date, but its not really hanging out either.
He'll take you to either his or your favorite place.
Stargazing, watching the sunset, gang meetings, late night drives in the middle of the night, out to eat- you name it
I think with each "date" he just falls for you even harder, especially if you reciprocate some sort of feeling back like comforting him and touching him affectionately, he just melts in your embrace and absentmindedly smiles at the thought of you, sometimes mid fight or drive which is dangerous as hell and Baji often has to shake him out of it.
He really could be mid rocking somebody's shit and then he thinks about you and instantly leaves to go find you, like there isn't an all-out brawl going on.
The nail's set in the coffin when he shares his dorayaki/taiyaki with you, even pah does a double take (yes he's late, but even he realized before Mikey)
If you do anything domestic for this boy like giving him a bento, he's a flustered mess
"W-What's all this for, (n/n)?" "Oh, I just noticed you haven't eaten all day so I made you this!" "Wait, y-you made it? For... me?"
Mikey.exe stopped working
Don't worry, he reboots after a while and pretends like nothing happened and everybody's like :0 bitch...what? And he's like "Isn't (n/n) the best?" :D
*sigh*
I think when he actually realized how deep in love he was, it was probably near/on the anniversary of Shinichiro's death. He'd show up at your door because he was having a really bad day, bruised from a fight he couldn't care less about. He didn't bother knocking, actually, he second guessed visiting you and was about to turn away until you opened the door, bag in hand full of taiyaki's you personally made, and on your way to see him.
Your surprised yet worried filled eyes said everything when you looked at him, ushering him into your home and quickly asking if he was alright, all the while grabbing medical supplies to tend to his wounds.
He wasn't mentally the best in this moment, but somehow your warm smile made everything feel... right.
Your soft touches and the way you placed one of those cutesy band aids over one of his cuts, giving it a kiss and saying it'll heal faster that way. He had to bite his lip to keep from breaking out in tears.
In that moment he just wrapped his arms around you and cried, barely able to speak as he tried to recall his day, the name of his brother being choked out as you held him in your arms, assuring him that you'll always be there, giving him all the care and comfort he could ever wish for.
"Then this... t-his gang was here- and.. a-and shin-" "Shh, it's okay. Take your time. I'm here, i'm not going anywhere, okay?"
"You... promise?"
"Of course, I promise. Forever and always." 💞
And that's when his ideal future changed.
He wouldn't mind you being there with all of his friends, happily laughing and goofing off together.
But of course, it was more than that. It has always been more than that.
Because he loved you and wanted to wake up to you every day and go to sleep with you every night. Suddenly the idea of raising a family with you didn't seem so unrealistic if it meant he could hold you like this forever.
He wanted this with you. Needed this...
Mikey pulled away; tears dried to his face as he looked you over once again, still gripping onto you as if he were to let go... you would vanish before his eyes.
Glistening obsidian eyes traveled down to your lips then back up to your twinkling eyes as you ran your fingers through his hair.
yeah i got carried away...
"(Y/n), I..."
#mikey#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo rev x reader#tokyo revengers#tokyo rev fluff#mikey x reader#manjiro x reader#mikey fluff#tokyorev x reader#mikey imagines#toman x reader#mikey tokyo revengers#mikey hcs#mikey headcanon#manjiro sano x reader#manjiro sano#sano manjiro#tokyo manji revengers#tokyo revengers headcanons#mikey x you#shinichiro#tr x reader#tokyo revengers x y/n#baji#tokyorev headcanons#tokyo manji gang#bonten x reader#headcanons#draken#aesthetic
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The heart of the story
SPOILERS for the garou fight (i know it's been a while but still) because holy fucking SHIT. i am shaking. Bigass post about the symbolism of Saitama's suit, Genos' core, and the deconstruction going on in the whole fight.
I saw a coloring of this panel,
and the positioning/negative space of the hole in Saitama's cape combined with the wind-up of Garou's punch made it fucking click and--jjdjalsk;djL;KFJ;lkdjlLKJlkdj
I thought it was super weird that pretty early on in this arc, Saitama's cape got a hole punched through it and the way he was positioned kept on emphasizing it. Like....Saitama's cape is already emblematic of who he is. It flutters around to accent what he's doing like an exclamation point, when he's protecting someone it curls around them like it's an extension of his intentions, when he walks in it flourishes before him like an announcement. As much as the gloves are a symbol of his power, I feel like his cape is...hope? It's what he is to the people he comes to save? Or maybe it's the selfless part of what he considers a hero to be--so if the gloves are "you're stronger than anyone else," the cape is "so you can be there for everyone else." I don't know, I have to think about it a little more, but that's the sense I get. It's also, y'know--a cape is something you wear to defend yourself from bad weather or the cold or just to cover up. It's protection.
So it felt REALLY BAD that there was a big hole torn into it, right dead-smack in the middle of Saitama's chest, like it was a target. A big foreboding "Look out! Your defenses are down! Watch out behind you!" But what the fuck can get at Saitama, right? Garou wasn't going to defeat him. You can't hurt him. He doesn't have to watch his back, that's kind of his whole problem.
But. Bu t f= djkj;sd. jFUCKING. HE'S NOT. HE'S NOT INVULNERABLE. IT WASN'T HIS CHEST IT WAS FORESHADOWING
And that was fucking it. Garou ripped out Saitama's heart when he ripped out Genos', and it destroyed him. Saitama lost himself. He ACTUALLY lost himself
THAT'S NOT FUCKING SAITAMA. That's what he's always been capable of becoming, but that's NOT him. As the fight goes on, he gets progressively more terrifying and inhuman--featureless face, blacked or whited out eyes, an outline of a body--as he starts attacking more relentlessly. We're watching him forget the humanity he's been feeling less and less in touch with, as he gets consumed by fury and grief.
That's not even mentioning that he loses almost all of his suit--that thing that defines him, that's most important to who he is and who he wants to be. All at once Garou hits him with something that completely destroys that symbol of who he is (hohoHO doesn't that sound familiar)--
everything except the ripped up remnants of his glove, the part that symbolizes his strength, that's left to clutch onto Genos' core,
which Saitama protected and cradled to his heart as if it was his own?? like it was a lifeline?? like it was more important than his home planet, that he almost destroyed in a blind rage???
Like.....yes, it was a handicap as in "i'll only use one hand to fight you," but I don't think it's THAT much of an exaggeration to say it was also a handicap in that it stopped Saitama from going absolutely fucking bonkers and destroying everything. I think that WAS his heart. That was his last tether to humanity and empathy and hope. It was his fucking companion cube.
(I don't think it's a coincidence that in that panel where Saitama's curling his whole body around the core while being buried in the ground--and isn't THAT a fucking metaphor--that he looks legitimately pissed off. Garou's kick was on a direct trajectory to Genos' core. And isn't there something to be said for Saitama letting an opponent hit his head to protect it? A thing he's deeply self-conscious about normally, and a move that we've seen Genos pull more than once?)
I've said before that Genos does the hard emotional work for Saitama when he can't do it for himself (getting excited, angry, or sad for him; cheering him on; and all around taking the weight off Saitama to respond emotionally to things so that, at the very least, he doesn't have to feel guilty about not feeling anything). In return, Saitama is a stable rock for Genos to hold onto because, in his volatile world where everything is changing and can be taken away from him at any moment, Saitama can't. And like...
Saitama did fail in that he was too late. He didn't save him before the worst happened. But what little Saitama had left of him, was entirely devoted to Genos. He turned himself into an indestructible case for everything Genos was. And as much as Saitama carried Genos through that fight, again, Genos carried him. Again, Saitama couldn't relate--he was too far out of touch with his humanity to act like he still had it. But he could still cling to Genos, and Genos could feel it for him.
Genos' heart replaced the heart that Garou broke--because when he killed Genos, Genos wasn't the one to feel the pain of his own loss. It wasn't his core that shattered. It was Saitama's. The target on his back hit exactly where it warned it would.
And now like--I do need to add a byline that this sucks for Genos. All around. He was used, thrown away, and Saitama failed to get to him on time. Now he's also the ONLY one who remembers what happened. He is already so fucking burdened, this is too much for one guy. I'm legitimately worried about what this is going to do to him.
But also? Mythology is my shit and melodramatic shenanigans are my JAM, and what aspect of this isn't mythological? What ISN'T such an obvious allegory after you say it out loud that it feels almost silly? How many levels does this work on? A wayward knight sacrificed a virgin heart in battle in hopes of tempting a dragon out of its cave to defeat it, and got SO much more than he bargained for? God took away the one you love, so you fight heaven and hell to get them back? Your heart is my heart, you live on in me and I in you, even after either of us are gone? I can't--I can't even come up with other examples because there are SO MANY. I just.
GOSH, even structurally, as the fight goes on, the panels become more sparse and less detailed. We lose background and landscape--often because it's actually demolished--until it's only action lines scratched over a flat black or white, to the point where we get graphs like the paper they're drawn on has been so ripped up that all we see are the guidelines on the desk underneath it. Things are taken apart to an atomic level.
And meanwhile, we're watching these two characters argue over their most BASIC concepts. What are you fighting for? Who are you, really? What are you, after you've lost everything? What drives you? What scares you? What's your hope, and your worst fear? Are you human? Does it matter?
Why are you, you?
It's falling apart that's interrupted only by fantastic destruction that's as beautiful as it is terrible...and it doesn't fucking STOP until both characters have been so thoroughly torn down to their most painful, elemental pieces that they're fading to dust or erased fully from existence. This entire FIGHT is a deconstruction--of story, of characters, of the manga itself.
I don't mind the time travel bit because this is--this is Jjust--this is SUCH A FUCKING GOOD ILLUSTRATION of what makes this manga WORK because it fucking--it goes out on a limb and says, "what happens if we do the thing we can't come back from, what does that do to the characters, let's bring it to the absolute enD JDJALSDK;JF" and00asdljs;dlkj
I'm losing it. I'm fucking LOSEINjalkj LOSING IT. Like. Saitama's the pillar of the story. Everything revolves around him. Genos is the catalyst, Saitama's the plot. Genos is the machina, Saitama's the deus ex. Genos is the heart, Saitama's the soul. I've said this a lot. but fucking....
If a cape is protection from the elements, Saitama's cape is a symbol of the hope he brings, AND there was a massive hole in Saitama's cape for so much of this arc, there was both a nagging sense that he wouldn't be able to magically solve shit like he usually can and that he had some weak point that was wide open for an attack. That weak point ended up being Genos.
The only way to break Saitama was to break his fucking heart...and then everything else broke around him.
((And....jllaksdjls of course, of COURSE I have a fucking bias and you KNOW I'm looking at this from a shipping lens too, and like.....I don't......Genos has Saitama's heart, and Saitama has his. They share it. It's one in the same. When one can't carry it, the other carries it for him. Ilm.kjl i"m. I'M.ASD...
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA))
#one punch man#one punch#opm#genos#saitama#garou#genosai#saigenos#precious robot baby#egg on legs#talk dirty to me#i am#literally#vibrating#THIS STILL ISN'T EVEN ALL MY EMOTIONS ABOUT THIS I DON'T KNOW HOW#THERE'S SO FUCKING MUCH GOING ON NNNNNN AJLA;SKJDF;ALSDKJ#please forgive me i fjfffucking KEYSMASHED this out at 2:30 IN THE MORNING it's not 4:18 I NEED TO GO GET MY LAUNDRY#GOSH THIS IS STILL PROBABLY SO GARBGLED AJLKJAL;JLAKSDJ KSJD;LASK
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The Crow and The Magpie : a Kaz Brekker x f!reader Magpie verse
Summary: A heist gone awry turns into a night gone right.
The closest thing Ketterdam had to a full moon was hanging low in the sky, silvering the edges of your mask as you walked alongside Kaz, the familiar sound of his cane scraping against the ground with every step.
It had been months since you started working alongside him, instead of trying to trip each other up. He had kept the figurine, but you knew you weren’t supposed to know. He had told his buyer that he hadn’t been able to procure it and tucked it away in a hidden drawer below his desk.
You were no longer one another’s punchline, the reason you failed at a job. You were well oiled cogs, barely ever rubbing the wrong way. And he had somehow tricked you into falling in love with him.
In your musings, you had fallen behind, and Kaz cast a look over his shoulder at you, one eyebrow arched.
“Okay?” was all he said.
You nodded and dashed after him again, skipping to a halt and falling into lockstep once more.
An hour later, you were running, adrenaline surging through your limbs and pushing you on, away from the ricocheting bullets and building shrapnel. In spite of his bad leg, Kaz was faster, but he kept you in front of him, his eyes burning into the back of your head as he willed you faster, faster, don’t get shot.
“Where’s Jesper when we need him?” you shouted over your shoulder, grinning in spite of everything, heavy jewels knocking together in your jacket pockets.
Kaz just shook his head, unwilling to waste air and strength to tell you that tonight, Jesper was at a card table, probably losing. As your mask started to slip, you tore it free and shoved it down the front of your jacket, kohl eyes gleaming in the moonlight. Kaz stared until you turned away again, taking that smile with you.
You wove in and out of curving streets and down back alleys until you were sure you weren’t being followed any longer. You stopped and looked at Kaz, concern shadowing your eyes. He was chalk pale, fingers gripping too tightly to the top of his cane, his right leg twisting under his weight.
Pushing aside your concern about touching him too closely, you tucked yourself up against his side, nudging gently until he dropped an arm over your shoulders and gave you some of his weight. His weary exhale stirred your hair and you leaned your head on him, started to walk again, slowly.
“How did you do it?” you asked quietly.
He grunted and for a moment, you thought he wasn’t going to answer, but then he spoke.
“Jumped off a roof after a job. I was fourteen. Never healed properly.”
“Why didn’t you pay a healer to do it for you?”
He glanced down, pain twisting his lips but not quite reaching his eyes as he looked at you.
“The Bastard of the Barrel needs a legend, Magpie” he murmured. “I am all the more fearsome because I live with pain and never let it stop me.”
You raised your eyebrows.
“And they all think you’re not really human, Brekker” you pointed out.
He chuckled dryly and for a split second, you felt the touch of his head against yours.
When you finally reached the Slat, you stood with Kaz at the bottom of the stairs that led all the way up to his office and bedroom. The silence between you stretched, until he finally looked at you with a resigned expression.
“Taking those right now would kill me” he admitted reluctantly. “Can I...stay with you?”
You had a room there, one you were free to use whenever you needed. You nodded and helped him to it, hidden in the shadows on the other side of the staircase. He sat down on the edge of your bed and winced as he shrugged out of his coat and unbuttoned his shirt cuffs.
He watched idly as you moved about the little room, stripping off your hooded jacket and dropping it and the mask on the low bedside table. You wandered into the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror, in full view of Kaz, and began to clean your face, wiping the makeup off from around your eyes. He realised he was gripping the edge of your blanket, white knuckled, and slowly let go.
“I can see you” he said, confused. “You’re quite pretty, Mags.”
You stared back at him in the reflection and dropped the cloth on the edge of the sink. You moved slowly back to him and sat down, tentatively reaching out a hand to touch his face, slide across his jaw. His blue eyes fluttered shut, but he leaned gradually into your palm, his mouth twitching slightly.
“Have I told you lately that I love you, Kaz Brekker?” you asked softly.
His eyes snapped open and bored into your own, but you didn’t flinch.
“No...” he said warily, as if he was afraid he was falling headlong into a trap.
“I do” you said. “You don’t have to say anything. Calling me quite pretty is enough for the moment.”
You saw him blush as he closed his eyes again.
“But I do want you, Kaz” you murmured, the words slow at tripping off your tongue.
Your free hand slid into his hair and a full body tremor wracked him.
“Please. Stop” he gritted out, trying desperately to be gentle with you.
You withdrew both your hands immediately and he relaxed, saw them drop neatly into your lap. To his surprise, when he met your eyes again, you were smiling fondly at him.
“What?” he groused, shaken by both the pleasant feelings and the unpleasant.
“I still love you” you told him simply. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
Tagging: @writingmysanity
#kaz brekker#kaz brekker x reader#kaz brekker x female reader#liss writes#shadow and bone fic#soc fic#six of crows#magpie
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