#//r most of their lives here but. it's gonna change. in time. not that much since they're all still kids in an abusive envoirnment but. they | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

holidayinhell · 6 days ago

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Interview

CWs: references to noncon, violence

1. Would you rather - Rope or Chains?

R: Rope.

W: Chains, dear god, chains any day. Ropes fucking burn.

2. If Whumpee had multiple Whumpers, who is their favourite? For Whumpers, which Whumpee was your favourite?

R: Yeah, I’ve got a favorite. A couple years back I had a Whumpee who fought me at every turn. He'd throw his food at me, cuss me out, and try to attack me. One time he scratched absolute shit outta my arms. Anyways, I got tired of his shitty attitude and decided to kill him. I didn't keep it a secret, I told him he was gonna die. But when I went in to do it, he changed completely. No more screaming, no spark in his eye. He got quiet. Heh, he got all lovey dovey with me even. You know, lots of people say they’ll do anything if only you’ll spare their life. I never did cash in on that promise, but on this Whumpee, I put it to the fucking test. Heh. He let me do whatever I wanted to him. Depraved, horrible things, that would make the most degenerate man blush. Heh, and even though he was crying through most of it, he still pretended to like everything I did to him. And god. You should’ve seen his eyes when I told him I was still gonna kill him. That look. I think about it still.

W: I can’t. glances over at Whumper. Next question please.

3: In your opinion, what is the best way to train a pet?

R: Humans are fickle fucking beasts. You have to break down someone’s pride in order to train them. I start off with food deprivation, that usually helps me gauge what kind of fight I’m in for.

W: Positive reinforcement has always worked for me… I’ve only ever had a pet bearded dragon though.

4: Broken ribs or bullet wound?

R: Both.

W: These questions are uncomfortable to answer. But, uh, bullet wound I guess. Assuming it didn’t graze any organs.

5: Preferred type of gag?

R: I like a fabric gag. Or a simple piece of duct tape. Sometimes they come off and I get to squeeze a little scream out of Whumpee, and then I put a fresh one right back on. I kinda like the cycle of it.

W: I don’t have a preference… none? I guess the metal bit one isn't the worst of them. It hurts my teeth but at least I can still kinda breathe.

6: Burned or stabbed?

R: Stabbed.

W: Stabbed, I guess?

7: Favourite stress position?

R: An old-fashioned hogtie. I guess I’m unimaginative but I don’t get too crazy into the BDSM shit. Who has the patience for that?

W: Uhh.. just, handcuffs behind my back. Something relatively comfortable.

8: Have you given or received any Brands? What do they signify?

R: Heh. No. Never been branded. I certainly have had my fun branding Whumpee though.

W: I… have two… Uhm. One on my chest that, thank Christ, is almost all the way healed. It said, uh, swine. The other one is on my back, it’s a lot worse. I don’t know what it says but I can feel it so it’s um, it’s here to stay, I guess.

R: It says Nice Try. Remember?

W: Not really.

R: From your second half-hearted escape attempt. Didn't realize you forgot. But I did hit you pretty fucking hard that night.

9: Broken arm or broken leg?

R: Leg.

W: Arm. A million times, arm.

10: How did you get here? Why are you the way that you are?

R: I live here. Far as I know, I’ve always been 'like this'-- whatever the hell that means. And I don’t see a problem with it. We’re all free to do as we like, so that’s what I fucking do.

W: I dunno. I, I was outside, it was dark and I think it was raining…yeah… heading home from the bar. I didn’t drink that much. I didn’t live that far, either, so the rain wasn’t a problem. I remember falling down and then… I woke up here. And I’ve been here ever since.

11: What is your biggest regret?

R: I wish this Whumpee could’ve learned a thing or two from my defiant Whumpee in the second question you asked. I wanna get my dick sucked like that every fucking night.

W: Regrets... yeah, I've got a few. One stands out. It was late at night, Whumper didn't tie me up. I snuck out of my cell and I made it to the steps. Almost to the top, nearly all the way out. The door was unlocked and cracked open a little, I thought I could make a run for it and—

R: —I was waiting for you at the top. Heh. I wanted to see if you'd run, and you sure tried to. Not so much after that, though.

12: Is there a line you won’t cross? For Whumpee, what do you most fear Whumper might do?

R: A line I wouldn’t cross? Uhhh…. No. No, I don’t think so. I’ll cross any fucking line. turns to Whumpee, grinning. So what are you afraid of, Whumpee?

W: I, um. Does he really have to be here when I answer these questions?

R: Tell them, Whumpee.

W: Can I whisper it to you? (he’s already done so much to me, so fucking much… it’s dumb but I don’t want him to shave my head.)

R: smirks. You know I heard that.

13: What lessons have you taken away from your experience?

R: Everything has been the same old, same old for me. Guess this Whumpee’s lasted longer than the rest of ‘em. He’s coming up on a year soon. Kind of impressive he’s stuck around this long and hasn’t given me a reason to kill him yet.

W: I don’t know. I do what I’m told so I can eat. I take it day by day. I guess the lesson I’ve learned is that abandoning pride is the only way to survive…

14: Whip or cane?

R: Whip.

W: Yeah. Whip.

R: Didn’t expect you to say that. Noted.

15: Drugged or coherent?

R: Depends on the situation. Drugging them is useful for transport but I don’t much like it when they’re too dazed to understand what’s happening. Sometimes they fall asleep, too.

W: Drug me any fucking day. I don’t care. I’ll take whatever you have.

16: What are your true, honest feelings about each other? Is there some part of you that cares for the other at all?

R: Sometimes I like to touch him. He’s warm and it’s funny when he tries to squirm away. Plus I like it when he begs me to stop. But do I care about him? …eh. Sure, sorta. He’s my plaything.

W: Erm. Thanks, I guess. For me… Whumper is the reason I’m here. I guess I’m appreciative for the food… but he does hurt me. A lot. Constantly.

R: You're very welcome.

17: What is your favourite thing about the other? A personality trait, a physical feature, anything

R: He’s got pretty hair. A kind of pretty face, too. Yeah, almost like a girl. Heh. And he makes good sounds when he’s screaming.

W: Ah. Fuck. I really don’t know how to answer this…

R: Come on. What’s your favorite part?

W: Um. Well, I'll say this: Whumper is smart. Scary smart. I don’t think anyone would ever imagine how smart. I don’t know. I don’t. It’s… terrifying.

18: Do you have relationships outside of each other? Friends, family - if yes, do they know about Whumpee? Do they care?

R: Yes, yes, and no.

W: I have a half sister in, uh, Arkansas. We’re not close, obviously… used to have friends I guess, but it’s been a long time since I saw them…

19: What other hobbies do/did you have?

R: Video games.

W: I used to play saxophone. A lifetime ago.

20: For Whumper, is there any chance you’ll let Whumpee go? For Whumpee, have you ever thought about life after you’re free?

R: No. Sorry. Realistically, it doesn’t make sense to ‘let him go.’

W: I, uh, I used to think about it. I don't anymore… like he said.. realistically it doesn’t make any sense.

R: Mm. Good answer, Whumpee.

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this interview uses the questions from Character Ask Game post by @inhurtandincomfort !! thanks homie!

((more Whump))

#whumpblr #whump writing #whump #whump interview #idk lol this was a fun exercise in writing #cw: noncon #whump drabble

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ssinnerplazahotel · 5 months ago

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𝘽𝙞𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙚&𝙀

╭──────────.★..─╮

*Chapter One*

╰─..★.──────────╯

WC:5k

Warning: age gap, eventual smut, fluff

Pairing: elvis x black reader

Masterlist: Prologue

YOU WEREN’T YOURSELF WITHOUT YOUR MOTHER. You didn’t think you would be yourself ever again. You carried a piece of her with you—a silk scarf wrapped over your head and around your neck, patterned in a floral paisley print. The red matched the skirt you wore. You had purposely chosen a blue blouse that day, being that you were a true believer that the clothes you wore should reflect the way you felt on the inside. You, of course, couldn’t always abide by that rule. If you were to, you’d be wearing blue all the time. You carried your mother in the hairstyle that she had sent you to the nearest hairdresser to have done. She had the appointment and style picked before you even knew you were going to Memphis.

“If you look your best you feel your best,” She had said. As if three hours in a salon would make you feel any better or different about your situation. “You’re gonna look just like Donyale Luna!”

You may have looked your best the day you arrived at your aunt's house in Memphis, but you felt nothing short of miserable.

“You’ll sleep in Chris’ old room,” Dawn mused as she led you through the single-story house. You tried to look around to take in everything you saw but there wasn’t much to look at. Nothing special caught your eye in the plain, empty house. Apart from the old choral sofa in the living room and a few dull paintings on the walls, the house was minimal. “He stays on the road fixing houses most of the year. So it’ll just be us the majority of the time.”

You tried to smile as you walked over to the twin-sized bed in the middle of the room. It creaked under the weight of your single suitcase. You surveyed the room. Similar to what you saw of the house before it was very minimal. There was a tall rosewood dresser opposite the bed and a wardrobe in the corner. Above the bed was an old, washed-out painting of a dove soaring through the cloudless sky holding an olive branch between its beak. Your eyes lingered on it as Dawn rambled on behind you. Although it would never be your home, you could make the most of it if you genuinely wanted to.

“Thank you, Aunt Dawn, it’s really nice of you to let me stay.”

“You can stay as long as you like.” Dawn smiled at you. “Go ahead and get your things put away, we’re off to work when you’re done.”

“Work?” You asked. You were no stranger to work, not by a long shot. Being the youngest of two, you had been working from a young age. When you were still a small child, your father had taken your brother with him when he left. It wasn’t much of an anomaly, just another part of your life.

You were caught off guard by Dawn’s mention of a job. A job where the two of you would work together no less.

“You didn’t think you’d show up all pretty and get out of earning your keep, did you?”

She laughed. She was quite the comedian when she wanted to be. You usually enjoyed that about her. But right now, when all you wanted to do was crawl into bed and cry, you weren’t in the mood for her jokes.

“I didn’t know, that’s all.” You forced a laugh. “Is there anything I need or~”

“Oh no, everything we need is already there,” Dawn said. “I would leave that scarf, you wouldn’t want it to get dirty.”

“I’ll take it off in the car.” You examined your outfit and wondered if it was suitable for the job. You asked Dawn just what job it was.

“Housekeeping for the Presleys.” She straightened out the collar of your blouse.

“The Presleys?” You repeated—your mind registered the name slowly. It took you all of two seconds to realize who Dawn was referring to. “Elvis Presley?”

Your expression was so shocked it looked like dread.

“You heard of ‘im?” Dawn asked, crossing her arms with a prying smile. “The girls and the women run around here like chickens with they heads cut off since he come back from the service.”

“No.” You quickly changed your answer as you registered the question. “I mean, yes. Who hasn’t?”

“His songs play every day on the radio, especially here in Memphis.” There was an edge of distaste in her tone. “I’m lucky when I can find a station playing anything else.”

“You don’t like him?”

“I like the Elvis I know. I don’t know about that person everyone makes him out to be.”

Dawn always had some elaborate explanation for everything. You could always count on her to have some sort of mystery behind her words.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t change?” You asked, but the question was futile as you were already in the car headed to Graceland. “I feel overdressed.”

“You’re fine. The Presleys don't believe in being overdressed.” Dawn laughed as she took another right onto a long curving road that led right to the front of the house. You couldn’t deny the anxiety forming in the pit of your stomach as you eyed the house through the passenger window. You felt yourself starting to regret ever coming. Before you could say anything you were already climbing out of the car.

“Ms. Dawn.” A male voice called. Your head snapped immediately in its direction but you relaxed when you saw that it wasn’t him. Instead you saw a lanky guy with wavy blonde curls, the sides gelled away from his face. “I’ll take her off your hands a while.” He held his hand out with a smile.

“Don’t get lost pulling her around back again,” Dawn said pointedly—handing over the keys to her car. “I’ll know if you did.”

“You know everything.” He went to climb into the car, his eyes stopping on you before he waved his hand in a halfhearted hello. You barely returned the wave before he was climbing into the car and driving away.

“That’s Joel, the Klatten’s boy.” Dawn led the way inside as she spoke. “He likes to pull the car around. His dad’s a mechanic so he practices under the hood from time to time to try to impress him. They own the dealership in town. You wouldn’t know it.”

You nodded your head. It was hard not to focus on the anticipation building in your gut. You weren’t exactly a fan—you or your friends never bought any of his records and you hadn’t bothered seeing any of his films. Yet, you were absolutely trembling at the thought of meeting him. At the thought of seeing him with your own two eyes.

Once inside you braced yourself for the encounter. You didn’t want to be caught off guard by his sudden appearance. It wasn’t until you saw him barreling down the stairs with two other guys hot on his trail that you realized that nothing could have prepared you for seeing him for the first time. Even as he roughhoused with the other guys and shoved them the rest of the way down the stairs you felt his presence. You couldn’t look away. Even if you wanted to, you were too struck by his beauty. You didn’t want to miss a second of his smiling face as he reached the bottom of the stairs. His eyes met your Dawn’s, he offered a smile and a polite head nod. You almost thought he was going to completely ignore your existence. You would’ve been perfectly fine if he had. But he stopped short when he saw you—sending the others crashing into him.

“Let’s go, E. It starts in half an hour, we’ll never get there in time.”

“Hold on a minute.” Elvis held his hand up, his eyes somehow still on yours. He turned and headed towards you. “Ms. Dawn, how are you?”

He spoke in a deep southern accent as he stalked over. As they exchanged pleasantries you took a moment to quickly look him over. You forced yourself not to stare, it was nearly impossible when everything about him caught your eye. Everything from the forest green sweater he wore to the way he towered over you with his hands in his pockets. Something about his stature almost looked shy, but you quickly dismissed that thought. Elvis Presley was anything but shy—you didn’t need to be a fan to know that much.

“Who might this be, Dawny?” His voice said, ripping you from your thoughts before they went haywire. You met his eyes briefly—you couldn’t hold his gaze as your aunt introduced you.

“My niece,” She said, putting her arm over your shoulder. “ She’s gonna be staying with me for a while. I figured she could help us out around here.”

Elvis agreed—his eyes shifting to you again. “Can always use an extra pair of hands I s’pose. It’s nice to meet you, honey.”

“You too.” You felt as though your body was betraying you in the way it reacted to him. The hairs on your arms stood at attention, your palms were tacky, and there was an endless shiver running down your spine. You had never experienced such a fierce and immediate attraction.

“Pretty scarf.” He nodded at the piece of material still wrapped around your head.

“I meant to take it off.” You rushed to remove the scarf. He stopped you with a wave of his hand.

“Leave it.” His lips twitched into a smile. “It compliments you.”

You let your hand fall away from the scarf–staring up at him with the overwhelming urge to cower under his eyes. Not because you were afraid, but because every second his eyes were on you it felt like you would spontaneously combust.

“Let’s go, EP.”

Elvis’ smile widened and his eyes darted across your face once more. You couldn’t tell if he was aware of what he was doing to you, or if he was simply waiting for you to thank him for his compliment.

“I-I gotta get goin. Daddy’ll get all the paperwork and stuff figured out for your niece here. It shouldn’t be an issue havin her hired.” His eyes finally left yours. He and Dawn shared a few more words that sounded muffled to your ears before he finally made his exit. “Take care, Ms. Dawn.”

“Thank you, you too, Mr. Presley.” Your aunt responded as she headed further into the house, expecting you to follow.

“It was nice meeting you, honey,” He said again. You looked over your shoulder at him briefly before scurrying after Dawn. You found her in the kitchen tying an apron around her waist.

“Look at you, sweating like a sinner in church.”.

“Stop it. I’m not.”

“Mhm. Don’t you go getting any ideas. I work here, I don’t need you messing this up for me.”

“I don’t have any ideas.”

You tied the apron that she had handed you over your skirt. She reached under your chin to unravel your scarf and deflated a bit as she placed it in your hand.

“You just stay out of trouble and keep a low profile. You’ll blend right in.”

You tied the scarf around a loop on your apron, keeping it there as you followed Dawn’s directions. You did everything she said. You stayed out of trouble and kept your head down for the day. Even when supper came around and everyone gathered in the dining area, you didn’t meet Elvis’ eyes again. Although there were a few times that you swore you felt his on you. It must’ve been all in your head.

After a few unfamiliar glances from the other residents, you seemed to blend in perfectly just as Dawn had expected. As you were leaving that night the two of you ran into Elvis again. He was leaning against one of the pillars outside—alone.

Your aunt’s words rang through your head as you avoided eye contact, nodding politely when he wished the two of you a good night.

***

“There are more dishes up there than in the kitchen.” Dawn motioned for you to follow her to the kitchen. “I’d get the two confused if I didn’t know any better.”

You hummed in acknowledgment of her words but didn’t give a verbal response. You got to work putting the dishes in the sink. There was never much conversation between you and your aunt, not like there was when you were younger. You stayed out of her way as much as you stayed out of everyone else’s. She usually left you alone when she saw that you weren’t interested in conversation, which you were grateful for.

As you were busy polishing the last of the glasses you felt another presence enter the room, not your aunt or any of the other help. Despite your brief encounter months ago, you still recognized the musk of his cologne and the click of his shoes as he walked—his feet dragging the ground with every other step. You turned in time to watch him walk across the kitchen, his eyes meeting yours before you turned away.

“Excuse me,” You muttered. You dried your hands and made your exit. Or at least you attempted to.

“Don’t mind me, doll.” Elvis stopped you. “I’m just grabbin a glass.”

You hesitantly turned back to the sink. You stood there unmoving for a moment before coming back to your senses. Your heart rate increased rapidly as you forced yourself to continue shining the glass in your hands.

He said your name suddenly. “Right?” He wondered, pulling a glass from the cupboard. His voice startled you.

You saw him coming closer and felt the urge to move away. “Can I help you, Mr. Presley?”

“Elvis.”

“Can I help you, Elvis?”

He lowered his head and chuckled shortly. He walked over and stood beside you by the sink. He smiled as he turned the faucet. “Nah, baby, you just keep doin what you’re doin.”

You turned your attention back to the dishes. You felt his eyes boring into you but you didn’t meet them. You expected him to—or at the very least hoped he would—leave the kitchen after running water into his glass. He didn’t. He leaned against the sink with one arm folded in while he drank the water—making no move to leave.

“Tell me somethin,” He propositioned. He swirled the water in the glass, twirling it around a few times before stopping—sending the liquid spinning through the glass weightlessly. “Why is it that every time you see me you get all spooked and run away?”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean, Mr. Pres~”

“Elvis is fine.”

You turned your head in his direction. You almost mistook his insistent tone for being upset, but you saw that he wasn’t when you met his sapphire gaze. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean, Elvis.”

“You just did it.” Elvis laughed. “Dropped everything you was doin and ran for the hills.”

“I wasn’t running,” You denied. He laughed at you. You felt yourself almost become flustered by the way he tipped his head back slightly to laugh at you. There was something infectious about his laughter. Even in your flustered state, you couldn’t be upset. “I wasn’t, I’m…trying to not get in your way.”

“Why’s that?” He asked, chuckling slightly as his laughter came to an end. “You scared of me?”

“No, it’s just not my job to be in your way.” You tried to remain professional, focusing on the glasses you were putting away instead of his influx of inquiries.

“What kind of accent is that?” Elvis asked, completely ignoring your response to his question.

“Wilmington.”

“You’re from North Carolina?”

You were shocked by how much that piqued his interest. “Unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately?” He asked, his eyebrow quirking. “I know a lot of great spots in North Carolina.”

You didn’t engage in the conversation. You reached for the top shelf of the cupboard, having to stand as high as you could on your tiptoes.

“Do you want me to~”

“No,” You said quickly, abandoning the leftover glasses on the counter. “I’ll put them away later.”

“I don’t mind,” Elvis insisted, setting his glass down and stepping forward.

“Mr. Presley, my aunt thinks it’s best if I keep my distance a-and stay out of your way,” You blurted—stepping away from him.

“Keep your distance? From me?” He asked, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

“N-Not only from you,” You said. “From everyone.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. Dawn told you to keep your head down and stay out of trouble. She wasn’t solely talking about Elvis then.

“Why she tell you that?” Elvis asked with a troubled expression. “Dawn’s like family around here.”

You shrugged your shoulders, fidgeting with the front of your apron as you avoided his eyes.

“How old are you, birdie?” He asked suddenly. Birdie—he must’ve thought you were skittish and fragile.

“Seventeen.” You answered after a moment.

“Ohh.” Elvis drawled as if he’d figured it all out. “She thinks you’re just a baby.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“Oh, I can tell. But you are to her.”

You looked away, you felt the warmth of the room suddenly. “Either way…I think it’s best if I do what she tells me. So I’ll stay out of your way.”

“What if I don’t want you to?” He stepped closer—drumming his fingers along the counter.

“I don’t see why you wouldn’t.”

“If I want you out of the way I want it to be my decision. And I don’t think I do.”

You had to check if he was serious. He had a bit of a smirk on his face. His eyes flitted to where his fingers still traced the edge of the counter before settling on yours again.

“If you asked me to leave you be I’d try, of course,” He continued, moving impossibly close to you. Your breath hitched. “But I have to say, I haven’t got much practice at doin what I’m told.”

“Gotta start somewhere.” You didn’t mean it as a joke, but that didn’t stop him from releasing a deep chuckle. He reached out and took ahold of the scarf that was still tucked securely into your apron. Your mind short-circuited as you watched him finger the material. “I think I should listen to Dawn.”

He nodded, his eyes focused on the scarf as he ran his fingers over the patterned silk. You wanted to step back. You were too close. “Good girl,” He finally said. Officially knocking the wind from your lungs. For a moment you thought he was commenting on the fact that you had kept the scarf around. His next words, however, cleared that thought right up. “You should listen to your auntie.”

You didn’t take a breath until he walked away, watching dizzily as he grabbed his discarded glass and dumped the rest of the water out. He sighed heavily as he set the glass in the sink, staring down at it for a moment before turning on his heel and heading out of the kitchen.

“Don’t mind what I was sayin before.” He stopped short and faced you. “I was just messin. I don’t want you in any trouble with Dawn, she can be—y’know.”

“It’s okay.” Although he wasn’t apologizing something about his tone seemed apologetic. “Take care, Mr. Presley.”

“Thank you, honey, you too,” He said with a final smile before he was gone.

You released a tense breath and leaned against the counter. You removed your scarf from your apron with unsteady hands and stuffed it in your pocket. Pushing it down—all the way down. Along with everything you felt at that moment.

“Just push it down,” You told yourself. “Way, way down.”

***

“A live-in position?”

Your aunt had professed the news so excitedly when she first broke it. She smiled wildly and packed the house up in a hurry. She went on and on about how she would be able to save and buy a new house with the new position. Room and board and a steady paycheck weren’t things you would ever expect her to decline. Had it been offered by anyone but Elvis Presley.

“I might even save up enough to pay off the car.” Dawn beamed as she taped off another box. “You could work fewer hours, and start studying for the placement test at the school. Like we talked about before.”

You made yourself busy with helping her pack everything away. You tried to distract yourself from the thoughts that ran through your head as you got everything ready for storage. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but dread the change that was coming. You absolutely dreaded the thought of not leaving Graceland every night. You especially dreaded not having every other weekend away from the house completely. Especially now that Elvis, despite claiming that he didn’t want you in trouble with Dawn, had somehow made it a habit to coincidentally show up wherever you were in the house. Of course, you tried to write it off as all in your head, but you couldn’t make it up.

Despite this inner turmoil, you celebrated your aunt’s promotion gladly. You knew that it was something that would make a huge difference in her life and that was enough for you to push away your complaints. You had your personal things moved into one of the empty rooms of the house and from there the rest was history.

You continued with your daily chores, wrapping up around eight as usual. Instead of leaving, you enter your room on the second floor of the house. You were nervous that first night, Dawn’s room was on a completely different side of the house. You felt secluded from the only person you knew out of all the people living there. At times, you wished you could call up your mom and tell her all your worries, but you tried not to worry her with any bad news—only good. You wanted her to think you were happy here, even though you weren’t.

You gave up on sleeping after tossing and turning for a couple of hours. You got out of bed and wrapped yourself up in your coat, adjusting the scarf on your head before walking out of the room. You could hear a lot of commotion still happening around the house despite the early hour of the morning. A few people lingered downstairs, too many to pay you any mind as you slipped out the front door. You sighed at the silence you were met with. You walked a few steps, leaning against one of the pillars with your arms crossed. You were exhausted, but you knew that being in a new place would keep you up. That and the noise.

You were done fighting it.

The front door opened again as you were standing there, and you didn’t even have to turn your head to know who it would be. He didn’t say anything as he leaned against the opposite pillar, crossing his arms in a similar manner.

“Are you keeping tabs on me?” You asked after he didn’t break the silence himself—he usually did.

“Nah, I saw you slip out.” He shifted towards you. “The noise keepin you awake?”

“A little,” You answered honestly. “I’m not a huge fan of new places either.”

“New places?” Elvis asked incredulously, a smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve been workin here for months.”

“It’s different now.” You found his eyes already watching you—they usually were. “I can’t get away from you as easily now that I live here.”

“Maybe you’d find out that I’m not so bad if you stuck around for more than a minute.” He seemed to be enjoying the light conversation. You figured it was because he wasn’t used to you saying more than a few words to him at a time.

“Everywhere I go, somehow, you’re right there,” You said. Maybe it was because you were delirious and sleep-deprived, but you found yourself not caring what your aunt might think as you bantered with Elvis. “Why is that?”

“I like watching you,” He admitted. “I’m tryna figure you out.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little at that—hiding the smile on your face. When you lifted your head you were met with an astonished smile.

“She laughs,” Elvis stated as if it was an anomaly that he wasn’t yet aware of.

“What?” You asked, though you heard his words clearly in the dead of the night.

“I’ve been watching and you hardly ever smile, you never laugh,” He stated, tilting his head. “I was starting to think you didn’t have it in you.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to that, you knew you couldn’t respond with the truth. You were already pushing the boundary you had so vehemently tried to uphold by carrying on with this conversation. You couldn’t possibly wreck everything by actually opening up to him about your mom and the move to Memphis that you still were acclimating to.

“A little girl like you should be laughing all the time.” He continued after your silence.

“I’m not a little girl,” You said after another beat of silence. “And what do you expect me to do? Laugh while I dust your end tables?”

“Aw, birdie, don’t get cross now,” He chuckled. There that nickname was again—birdie. “I just wanna know what goes on inside that pretty head of yours.”

“Nothing that concerns you.” Your walls came back up as quickly as you had let them down.

“I see you goin outta your way to take care of everyone and to make everyone comfortable,” He started again, you weren’t sure if the man had ever tried to catch a hint in his life. “Who’s takin care of you?”

“You’re being inappropriate.”

“You haven’t told me to go away.”

“Go away.”

“No.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, you hardly had any patience so it didn’t take much to wear it thin. “I’m starting to wonder what goes on inside your head, y’know?”

“I’ll tell you anything you wanna know.” He suddenly decided to move towards you.

“Really?” You asked, your tone mildly sarcastic. “Okay then, what do you think your friends inside would have to say if they saw you talking to me right now.”

“I don’t think they’d have anything to say,” He responded. “We’re not doing anything wrong here.”

“I don’t think you believe that.” You had to fight the urge to back away from him as he stepped closer.

“You think I give a shit about what they think?” Elvis asked, his cool eyes hardening under the dim lights outside. “Really?”

“I do,” You said matter-of-factly. It seemed like the air thinned with every step he took, and your legs became more unsteady beneath you. “Or at least I think you should.”

“I don’t care and I’m not gonna start.” He stood close enough now to place his hand beside your head on the pillar you were leaning against. He leaned down to meet your eyes. “Is that why you’re so nervous all the time? Because you’re afraid of what they think of you?”

“They don’t think of me, Elvis, that’s my point.” Your voice was hardly steady as you forced yourself to keep still. “The only time people like that, or people like you, think of someone like me is when a chore is left undone. Or when you make a mess and you need someone to clean it up. That’s why I don’t understand what you want with me.”

He spoke your name and you were genuinely shocked. He had rarely called you anything outside of ‘honey‘ or ‘birdie’ in the months that you knew him—you thought he’d forgotten it. You stiffened when you felt his cool fingers gently slip under your chin but you let him lift your head to meet his eyes. “W-When I think of you…baby, that’s not what I’m thinkin about. When I look at you that’s not all I see. I can’t help that I’m drawn to you—that I want you. I want to know who you are, I want to know what you think, and how you feel. Since I first laid eyes on you, you've been on my mind~ b-but not for any of those reasons.”

You were too overwhelmed. He was too close. His words sent the blood rushing from your head. There were tears in your eyes but you didn’t feel like crying, too much was happening all at once and you weren’t exactly sure how you got here when the two of you were joking a second ago. You stumbled away from him, trying to make a break for the door but failing as he steadied you with his hands on your waist.

“I didn’t mean to overwhelm you,” He said. He kept his hands around you until he was sure you wouldn’t sink to the ground. “I-I’m sorry, I-I-I shouldn’t’ve…I don’t know.”

You closed your eyes in an attempt to force away your tears, you were having a hard time processing his words. You didn’t understand where all his feelings were coming from or why he was feeling them at all. “It’s a lot…”

“I know,” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as if he was suddenly embarrassed after his spiel. “I just don’t want you thinking I see you any differently because you’re…”

“You can’t even say it?” You heaved incredulously.

“N-No, I’m t-trying not to say the wrong thing. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, birdie, that’s it, honest.” His leg started to shake restlessly. “Ask anybody who knows me, I-I believe that we’re all created equal. A-And if I cut you right now I know we’d bleed the same~”

“Oh please, Elvis, you don’t have to preach to me~”

“Then stop tryin so goddamn hard to make me out to be something I’m not.”

“Is that what I’m doing?”

“That’s what it feels like.”

You watched him kick at the ground with his hands shoved in the pockets of his slacks. “I don’t think you’re one of them. I just think you know too many of them to ever truly be my friend.”

“What they think shouldn’t reflect who I am,” He said without looking up from his shoes, his voice low. “If I could weed out every goddamn racist I knew or worked for I would, but I’d be left high and dry.”

You fell silent, each of you staring off in thought for what felt like forever before he finally spoke again.

“I didn’t mean to upset you, honey,” He said, turning his back to you. “Go on back in the house.”

“Now you’re telling me to go away?” You teased in an attempt to lessen the tension in the air before you went inside. You felt like you did something to upset him, and you couldn’t bring yourself to leave the conversation that way. “I thought that was my job.”

He looked over his shoulder at you. His features softened when he saw the small smile playing on your lips. “And I thought you were a good girl who did what she was told,” He said. “I guess we were both wrong.”

You shrugged, walking back to your respective pillar and leaning against it. You leaned your head against the post.

“I meant everything I said before, y’know?"

"...I believe you."

***

#elvis presley #elvis x reader #elvis x you #elvis x black reader #elvis imagine #interracial love #black reader #elvis fluff #austin butler #the bikeriders #austin!elvis x reader #austin elvis imagine #elvis smut #elvis presely smut

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papayatori · 5 months ago

Text

Matcha Green

Oneshot! x fem!reader Okkotsu Yuta tw: angst, mentions of mental abuse, parental toxicity, fluff

Yuta was my best friend. He never failed to be there when I needed him, especially right now.

I was sitting on his couch, pouring my poor soul out to him. Did I feel guilty? Immensely, but he would never show it if it bothered him.

His hand rubbed my back gently, comforting me as I cried. I wasn't sure why life had decided to kick my ass specifically today, but, it wasn't like I could change the events of the past.

"You're gonna be okay, I'm right here." He whispered gently, not even bothering to ask me why I was crying like this, of why I had brought my suitcase. I nodded at him, leaning on his shoulder for support.

"I'm sorry..." I whispered in between my sobs. I shook, not knowing what else to say, what else to do. He shook his head directly.

"You have nothing to be sorry for.." He whispered back. "..though, if I may ask, what happened?" His voice was laced with concern, and I felt stupid for not mentioning it before, but I just couldn't.

My parents had kicked me out of the house, well, they hadn't really done that, more like packed my bags for me and left them outside. It was so sudden I didn't even know what to do, or even where to go. My parents had never been great to me, but they had never done anything physical, or anything as drastic as this. "I'm not even really sure myself, if I'm being honest." I mumbled, crying easing up a little. He waited for me to continue, gazing down at me. "They kicked me out, Yu.." I whispered, not looking him in the eyes. I saw his expression change from that of shock and disbelief to an angry look rather quickly.

"What?" He said, his jaw slightly locked. I shook my head, willing him not to be angry. I wrapped my arms around him, tucking my head into his chest.

"I don't know what I'm going to do." I mumbled, squeezing tightly. He shifted to make me more comfortable, his arm wrapping around me completely.

"You can stay here with me if you're comfortable with that.." He mumbled, still angry. "I've got the spare down the hallway, it's not like you don't practically live here anyways." He chuckled slightly.

Sadly, I couldn't argue. I stayed here a lot to avoid my parents when they got angry or upset with me. Most of the time, they wouldn't even give me a reason, and if they did, it was over little things.

"Thank you, Yu." I mumbled, my grip tightening on the fabric of his shirt. I could feel his eyes on me without having to look. I couldn't help but feel the flutter of my heart, no matter how much I wanted to deny it.

"Do you have your things? All of them?" He asked. That was a question I didn't really know the answer to.

"Not sure.. I have some of them, but I didn't pack them. When I got home from work I found my things in the yard, the rest of them are in the car.." I mumbled. If he wasn't angry before, he most definitely was now.

"And they didn't explain *anything*?" He asked, his muscles tensing slightly. I shook my head.

"You know my parents, Yu. They never do." He shook his head to my statement, disappointed. "Besides, I don't want to go back." I mumbled, a little defeated. His gaze softened with his touch, rubbing circles on my arm slightly.

"I can't say as I blame you." He said with a chuckle. "Either way, its safer for you here regardless."

"As sad as it is, you're right." I let out a large sigh. I was honestly just exhausted.

"You hungry?" He asked, doing his best to lighten the mood again. I looked up at him, a small smile on my face.

"Always." He chuckled at me slightly, I felt the rumble in his chest as he did so. My cheeks heated significantly.

He stood, and I felt the cool air surround me where his body had once been. I felt the pang of disappointment as he walked into the kitchen. I stood, following him.

"I wasn't planning on having anyone else to share this with, so I think it's a good thing I bought extra." He stated, holding up a few packs of ramen. I was practically drooling.

"Couldn't be more thankful." I said, my eyes wide with anticipation. "I haven't eaten anything today." His eyes looked at me with a concerned look at first, but didn't refute. Instead, he chuckled lightly.

"You can't keep doing that, y/n." He looked at me, a glint of worry in his eyes that was masked by his smile. I nodded.

"I know, I know." I said, crossing my arms a little and looking down at the floor.

The water had started boiling, I could see the steam rising as he stood over the stove, stealing glances at me occasionally as I sat on a stool at the island. He was whistling to himself, keeping himself busy. I couldn't help but find it cute, though I would never tell him that. I suppose he felt my gaze, because he looked back at me with a small smirk on his face.

"Something tells me you're not staring at me like that because of the ramen." He joked, laughing softly. I averted my gaze, pouting a little that I had been caught. My face turned a dark red.

"Who said I was staring?" I mumbled. He laughed again.

"The way you're acting tells me that you were, even if you deny it." I glared at him playfully. His hands went up playfully in surrender. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry." We both giggled a little then, enjoying whatever it was we were doing. Though, this didn't feel like a normal conversation we would usually have. The growing silence felt tense, and I found myself nervous and uneasy.

He handed me a bowl of the ramen that he had so generously decided to share with me.

"Thanks, Yu." I mumbled, digging in without any warning. He chuckled from beside me.

"Slow down, you're going to burn yourself." He chuckled, smirking at me slightly as he ate his own. I groaned in acceptance.

We ate quietly, just sort of enjoying the company of the other. I missed this feeling. I loved how carefree I felt here with him, how I didn't have to hide my emotions or feel like I was walking on eggshells constantly. That was something the sanctity of my *own* home couldn't even provide, though I suppose I couldn't call it *my* home anymore, could I? I shook my head softly.

"It's odd to think that I'm happier here with you than I was in the one place that was suppose to be my comfort." I mumbled, eyeing him cautiously. He smiled.

"I'm not sure if I'm happy to hear that, or mildly concerned." He chuckled a bit, reaching over to squeeze my shoulder slightly. I tiled my head to lean on his hand. "I guess I'm happy to be the one to give that to you.."

"You're always so kind, Yuta." I mumbled, thinking a little bit. A thought came to my mind. "Matcha." I said excitedly, snapping my fingers a little and looking over at his confused expression.

"What?" He smiled a little, amused.

"You know how, when you sit down in a coffee shop, with a warm cup of matcha, you feel at ease? Sort of like comforted simply because of the warm vibes, the comforting and homey green color of the matcha setting the tone. I don't think I've *ever* been sad when I drink matcha..." I rambled a little. He nodded, still confused.

"Sure, but, where are you going with this?" I giggled at his confused expression.

"That's sort of how I feel about you, too. You always manage to make me smile, to comfort me, even in times like this." His expression softened as he took his hand in mine.

"That's what I'm here for." He mumbled, his face tinting a soft shade of pink that matched my own. "What kind of best friend would I be if I didn't give that to you?" He said.

"A pretty shitty one, but that's why you're not shitty." I giggled a little, squeezing his hand. I felt myself lean forward a little bit, instinctively. He was doing the same, and my heart was beating a little rapidly.

"Well, I'm definitely not shitty. Especially not with you complimenting me so much." He chuckled. He placed a gently kiss on my forehead, sending me in to shock as he stood and grabbed both of our bowls, carrying them to the sink the rinse them lightly. I was left dumbfounded. He turned around slightly, a smirk on his face.

"Too much?" He asked, too confidently. I shook my head vigorously, not being able to form sentences. He chuckled lightly, drying his hands off. I caught his gaze again as he walked over to me, wrapping his arms around my seated position. I was a flustered mess, though I still let my head fall to his chest. He took a deep breath, rubbing circles on my arms.

"This is either going to ruin everything, or makes this situation a hell of a lot easier." He mumbled, sitting his chin on top of my head. I looked up at him questioningly, feeling my heart beat rapidly in my chest as I urged him to continue. "Have you ever wondered *why* I'm like this with you?" I pondered for a second, not ever really being aware of the thought ever crossing my mind.

"Not really, I just sort of took it and ran with it." I said honestly. He squeezed my arm.

"My feelings for you won't allow me to be anything else with you." He mumbled softly, kissing the top of my head so gently it set my heart ablaze. I wrapped my arms around him tightly, terrified of where this was going, but excited. I couldn't deny the fluttering of my chest. "I like you, you know? I was wondering when you'd catch on."

My eyes widened, and I pulled back slightly to look him in the eyes, making sure he was serious. He smiled down at me, a little bit of uneasiness in his expression lingered the longer I chose not to speak. I took a breath.

"I don't think I ever would have had you not said anything…” I mumbled. Though, I smiled big at him. “But at least I know now that the feeling is mutual..” I heard him release a breath he was holding in.

“I think I might’ve had a heart attack had you said anything other than that…” he whispered, his eyes distant as a small smile crept onto his features. I giggled a little bit, feeling better already. “..but, with that out of the way… do you think you would be ready for something?” He asked kindly, reaching his hand to gently hold my cheek. I blushed furiously. “You know, with me?” He asked anxiously.

I grinned wide, already knowing my answer.

“I would be a fool to say no to that cute smile…” I said, reaching up to touch his face. He leaned into my touch, smiling bigger.

Without another warning, his hand gently pulled my chin up to meet his lips. His kiss was gentle, soft, and welcoming. I giggled into it, knowing I would never be able to be as happy without him.

He pulled back, staring down into my eyes with a giddy glint in his own.

“Now that that’s out of the way, how about some Matcha?”

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mind-empty-just-fictional-people · 2 years ago

Text

Facetime

Masterlist

Summary: You and Dean facetime whenever he goes on a hunt, but things go south when he and Sam are miles away

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Rating: R for language, violence

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: language, blood, violence, torture, hostage situation, implied nudity, injured reader, mind control, starts off fluffy but gets real dark real quick, reader is a fan of Chris Evans

Author’s Note: This is loosely based on a dream I had and I know this gif is Dean looking at a coffee maker, but if you squint the coffee maker looks like a laptop :) Also, I don’t usually use capital letters (intentionally, but for no particular reason) but I thought I’d see how my writing looks with capital letters.

gif source

“Dean I don’t think your mic’s working,” You furrowed your brows in frustration, trying to tell him you couldn’t hear a word he was saying.

“Yeah it was off, that makes sense,” He laughed lightly. You smiled, happy to hear his voice and see his face. Sam and Dean had been on this hunt for nearly four days at this point and you missed your boyfriend so much it was driving you crazy.

You weren’t much of a hunter; you preferred to keep a safe distance and help with research, instead of picking up a machete and chopping up vampires. Dean knew you preferred to stay home and he was happy with you being out of the line of fire. He’d hate himself if he let you get hurt on a hunt, you were his everything.

It was hard, though. You lived in the bunker but you still didn’t spend as much time with Dean as you would’ve liked to. You wanted to be with him each night instead of falling asleep to either his music playing on vinyl or his voice over the phone if you were lucky enough to be in the same time zone. Most of the time you’d go days without hearing his voice.

That was until Sam had the brilliant (but blatantly obvious, you couldn’t believe you hadn’t come up with it) idea of you and Dean facetiming while doing research for the case; as opposed to just texting each other important details.

“So, what’re you hunting?” You asked. Your laptop was set up next to your phone which is what you were calling Dean from. You were seated in the library and eager to help however you could.

“Sam’s thinking a god,” Dean sighed. “He’s out getting the food.”

“And you’re doing the research?” You laughed.

“Well, I wanted to talk with you, and see that beautiful face of yours,” He smirked. “Sammy can do the actual research when he gets back, should be soon.”

“I miss you,” You smiled, he did the same.

“I miss you, too, hun. How’re you doing? Cas is gonna get back home tomorrow morning so you won’t have the whole bunker to yourself for much longer.”

“It’s really lonely,” You laughed wryly. “As an introvert, I swore never to say this, but I kinda wish more people lived here.”

“Yeah, I know it’s... it’s not ideal,” He gave you a sympathetic look. “Y’know there’s a library in town you could go to if you don’t wanna be alone.”

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna head over there. I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight, I’m really starting to go stir-crazy!”

“Wanna stay on the phone while you drive over there?” Dean asked hopefully.

“Of course!” You emphasized. “I’m so happy I finally get to talk to you for the first time today! I’m just gonna change into something more presentable real quick.”

“It’s 2pm on a Tuesday and you’re going to a public library; who are you thinking you might run into?” He teased lightly.

“Hey if I go not looking my best and Chris Evans just happens to be there I would kick myself!” You replied honestly. “Gimme a second.” You put the phone on your dresser and faced it away from where you would be changing.

“Y/n, I’ve seen you naked, you can change in front of me!” He sighed dramatically when you didn’t respond right away. “C’mon, I miss you!”

“You only get to see these boobs when you hurry up, finish that case, and get your ass back here!” You called out to him as you got dressed.

“That’s no fair,” Dean whined. You finished getting dressed pretty quickly and grabbed your phone off your dresser and your purse off your desk before you left the room.

“Okay I’m heading out now,” You smiled at your phone as you walked up to the entrance of the bunker.

“Which car are you taking?” Dean asked.

“Mine; it’s parked outside, not in the garage. why?”

“Just wanna know you’ll be safe getting there. A lot of the cars in the garage tend to break down at random,” He replied. You hopped into your car and set your phone on the stand that was attached to the front window.

“Ah, shit,” You winced suddenly, your hands now pressed against your temples. “De, something’s wrong-” You croaked out. Your head felt like it was going to explode as your vision began getting blurry.

“Y/n? Y/n, talk to me! What’s happening,” Dean exclaimed, his voice ripe with panic.

The pounding in your head suddenly stopped as your vision went black and you passed out.

Your head was throbbing as you woke up. You tried bringing your hands to your head but then realized you were tied to a chair. You then also realized you were wearing nothing but a bra and your boy-short panties.

“What the fuck,” You mumbled to yourself. You tightened your fists and pulled against the restraints.

“It’s no use, y/n,” A voice behind you announced. “You’re not going anywhere anytime soon. who knows, you might even die here.”

“Y/n? Y/n!” Dean exclaimed. He was completely panicking as he watched your car door open and someone pull you out of the driver’s seat.

“Dean Winchester!” The man picked up the cell phone and showed Dean his face; complete with hideous black eyes. “Looks like I now have the thing you care about most,” The demon laughed.

“You son of a bitch,” Dean screamed. “You hurt her and I swear I will-”

“What? What’re you gonna do Dean? Kill me? You don’t know where I’m taking her and I’m dumping this meat suit before you get the chance to figure out this guy’s name. No, you can’t do anything, Dean. You are completely and utterly powerless. I have the bitch you seem to love so much, and there’s nothing you can do.”

“What do you want?” Dean seethed through gritted teeth. He slammed his fist on the table next to him. “What do you fucking want?”

“To watch you suffer,” The demon smirked then hung up.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean screamed. He grabbed the chair he was sitting on and threw it to the side in frustration.

“Dean, what the hell?” Sam exclaimed. He had walked in right as the chair hit the wall. “I take a little too long getting the burgers and you start breaking the furniture?” He laughed lightly.

“Y/n,” Dean shouted. “A demon has y/n!”

“What the fuck? How? When?” Sam’s eyes widened.

“Just now, we- we were facetiming and she was gonna go to the library- and she- it just took her Sam- I-” Tears welled in Dean's eyes as he looked at his younger brother with desperation.

“What do you want from me?” You asked the demon. He was now kneeling in front of you as he toyed with your hair.

“Nothing, sweetheart,” He smiled wickedly. “You see, you are very important to Dean Winchester; I hate Dean Winchester. I want him to suffer. Having you locked up in here is the easiest way to torture him. He’ll find you eventually, I’m sure, but you’ll be so broken and beaten you won’t ever be the same. You’ll never be his cheerful y/n again. You’ll be worn down by what I'm going to do to you, you’re not going to want to be anywhere near him. And that will break his heart beyond repair - that will be the ultimate torture. I'll be known as the demon who destroyed Dean Winchester’s will to live.”

“You’re wrong,” You whispered. “Dean cares about me, sure, but losing me isn’t gonna break him, you idiot! He'll be over me within a few months then he will hunt you down and tear you limb from limb.”

“Maybe,” The demon shrugged. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see how long it takes him to get over you.” He pulled a knife out of his back pocket and plunged it into your thigh. You screamed in pain as tears streamed down your face. You looked down at the blood now dripping down your thigh then looked back up.

“D-Dean?” You whispered. “Wh-What’s going on?” Your head was spinning as you tried to focus on the man in front of you. “Dean! Dean, you found me?”

“Yeah, hun, it’s me,” The demon held your face with his hands.

“H-Help me out of here,” You quivered, confused as to why Dean was so calm. He shook his head, smiled, then gripped the knife and twisted it. “Y-You’re not Dean!”

“Of course I am, y/n! And I'm so happy I finally get to show you how I really feel about you,” He smiled. He took the knife out and pressed it against your left breast. “You know I never really cared much about you, you’re just an easy lay.”

“You’re not Dean,” You closed your eyes tightly. “Dean loves me.”

“Awe, that’s really sweet y/n, but of course I'm Dean! And I wouldn’t say I love you, more like I love having my own pathetic fucktoy handy at all times,” He patted your cheek. “I mean, let’s face it; all we do when I'm not hunting is have sex! Why else would I want you living with me?”

“That’s- That’s not true!” You whispered, more to yourself than to the monster posing as the love of your life. “We have movie nights, we bake pie, we have dinner together, we-”

“Do we?” He touched your temple with two fingers. “Dean never did any of that with you.”

“Y-You never did any of that with me,” You mumbled.

“Days, Sam! It's been days!” Dean shouted. “Y/n is still with that fucking demon!”

“I know it’s been days, Dean but you need to sleep. Just four hours; recharge and come back with a clear head.”

“Do you think y/n is able to sleep? Or have a second of peace or quiet! She is being tortured by a demon, because of me!”

“Cas will be back with some information in a few hours, until then you should sleep,” Sam suggested. “Look, we’ve done all we can for right now, you’re no use to y/n if you’re too tired to function!”

Before Dean could protest, his phone rang and he answered; “Hello?”

“Dean Winchester,” the voice replied.

“Yes? Who is this?”

“I’m the demon that’s got y/n,” He replied. Dean could hear the smirk in his voice.

“I swear to God I will find you and-”

“And you’ll kill me, blah, blah, blah; you’ve said that before. I'm just calling to let you know you can have her back. I'll text you the address.” The demon hung up.

“What-” Dean brought his phone down, confused. “That was the demon, he said he’s texting me the address where y/n is,” He told Sam.

“What? That makes no sense?”

“Yeah, but he wasn’t lying,” Dean held up his phone and showed Sam the text.

“It’s definitely a trap, right?”

“Doesn't matter, let's go; we can meet Cas there.”

“Dean, that's at least a six-hour drive; let me drive so you can sleep,” Sam offered. Dean was ridiculously tired and he knew he wasn’t at his full strength so he decided to take a nap on the way.

“Y/n! Oh my god!” Dean exclaimed when he walked into the dark warehouse and saw you tied to the chair.

“Sam?” You breathed out. “Cas?” You smiled slightly, barely lifting your head.

“Hey- Hey hun,” Dean crouched down and held your face.

“What, now you’re all sweet?” You scoffed, then looked past him and up at his younger brother. “Sam, please help me! Dean, he- he did this to me.”

“What? No! No, no, I would never! I love you," Dean stuttered, not taking his eyes off you. He untied your right hand and you punched the side of his head, which caused him to fall to the side.

“Cas! Please! You guys have to believe me!”

“It's okay, you’re safe now,” Cas came up to you. He put two fingers on your forehead and healed you. “We’re gonna take you home, okay?”

“Okay,” You replied as the angel untied you. Sam looked around for your clothes and, surprisingly, found them off to the side and folded neatly. Cas helped you up as Sam handed you your jeans and shirt, and you happily put them on. Dean was standing up at this point, but he just stood there; silent tears falling as he looked at you.

“Y/n- Hun, please- please tell me you know this wasn’t me!” He whispered, you looked over at him. “Please you- you know it was a demon!”

“Oh and where is this demon now, Dean?” You asked flatly, Dean stayed silent. “You know, I fucking trusted you!” Tears escaped your eyes and you brushed them away quickly. You continued, gritting your teeth in anger, “I hate you.”

“Let’s get you home,” Sam interrupted, he knew Dean didn’t do this and he needed to figure out how to make you know too. You nodded and followed Castiel out the door, Sam followed you and, after a moment, Dean did too.

Cas opened the back door for you while Sam opened the passenger door.

“Sam, can you drive?” You asked him quietly. “Please? I know you don’t believe me about Dean, but I don't trust him; please don’t let him drive.”

“Sweetheart, I-” Dean started, overhearing what you said to Sam.

“Don’t you dare call me that,” You hissed and pointed your finger at him with anger. You turned back to Sam, “If it was up to me, I’d say cuff him; but at least don’t let him be the fucking driver!” With that, you hopped in the back seat, Cas doing the same after you.

Dean took the demon cuffs out of his back pocket and handed them to Sam before holding his hands behind him.

“Seriously?” Sam scoffed.

“I want her to feel safe,” Dean replied. “Well, as safe as she can feel while I'm still in proximity.” Sam nodded and cuffed his older brother before they both got into the car; Sam in the driver’s seat.

“You really don’t believe me?” You practically screamed. You were all back at the bunker and Sam was refusing to lock Dean up in the dungeon.

“It's not that I don’t believe you-”

“Then do something!”

“Sam, Dean, can I talk to you?” Cas asked and the three went around the corner, you huffed to yourself and sat at the war room table. “There’s something really wrong with y/n.”

“Yeah, Cas, we can tell,” Dean replied.

“No, I mean, really wrong! When I healed her at the warehouse, I could feel something pushing back.”

“What do you think that means?” Sam asked.

“I think we need to call Crowley. He’s had a soft spot for y/n for a while now, maybe he’ll know what’s wrong.”

“Yeah, great! Let another demon get their hands on her,” Dean scoffed sarcastically.

“Crowley isn’t just ‘another demon’ Dean; he might be able to reverse whatever’s happened here!” Castiel retorted.

“Fine, fine we’ll give him a call,” Dean sighed. The three of them walked back around the corner but you weren’t sitting at the table anymore. “Y/n?” Dean called out, beginning to panic.

Sam rushed outside while Dean checked your bedroom and Cas checked the garage.

“Y/n, what’re you doing?” Dean asked. You frantically threw clothes into your duffle and didn’t answer him. “Sweet- Uh, sorry- y/n please,” Dean stumbled over his words.

“I’m leaving Dean, and I never want to see you again!” You exclaimed and tried to brush past him. He gently gripped your forearm to pull you back and your demeanor changed. “Please, please don’t hurt me,” You whispered; tears welled in your eyes as Dean’s widened. He let go of you and put his hands up, backing away.

“No, no I- I’m not going to hurt you, y/n, I wanna help you,” He said calmly. “We all do. Please, don’t go.”

“Why are you being so sweet now, I don’t understand,” You let the tears fall. “Is it just cause of Sam and Cas? Is that it? You’d like to take out your knife and get back to work but you don’t want your baby brother and your best friend to see you torturing me?”

“I- I don’t know what to say, y/n,” He replied, also letting tears fall. “I swear that was not me!”

“Right, right it was a demon,” You scoffed. “Seriously, Dean? The least you could do is own up to what you did, for fuck’s sake! But I guess I should’ve seen this coming, huh?”

“What’re you talking about?”

“You only ever cared about my body, Dean! Was just a matter of time before you got bored and used what Alastair taught you!”

“What? Y/n we’ve known each other for ten years, we’ve only been dating the last two! We didn’t even sleep together the first four months because we wanted to take it slow; do you not remember any of this?”

“Does this actually work on people?” You laughed. “You fake a few tears, look at them with lost puppy eyes, and try to make them believe such ridiculous lies?”

“Y/n!” Castiel called out from behind you. He had checked the garage and when he didn’t see you there he decided to check the kitchen and then head over to your bedroom.

“Castiel, please get me out of here!” You hurried to his side. “Dean won’t let me leave!”

“No- I-” Dean tried to protest but then just shook his head in defeat, not wanting to make things worse.

“We have a working theory going about what happened,” Cas lied to you. “We think Dean may have been possessed before, and the demon that possessed him may still be looking for you. You should stay here in the bunker where it’s safe, okay?”

“Okay, Cas, I trust you,” You clung to his arm, still terrified of Dean.

“Dean, why don’t you get Sam and meet me in the dungeon in a few minutes,” Cas asked him. “Y/n, you can stay in your room until we know more.”

It took Crowley a couple of days to figure out what the demon did but once he did, he called Dean and was summoned to the bunker.

“It’s a hex bag,” He said before his trademark, “Hello, boys.”

“A hex bag? Where?” Sam asked. “She’s changed clothes, we’re nowhere near the warehouse-”

“According to Frank-”

“Frank? The demon’s name is Frank?” Dean scoffed.

“Yes,” Crowley rolled his eyes. “Anyway, Frank said he carved it into her thigh.”

“Good Lord,” Sam muttered.

“How do we get it out?” Dean asked Crowley. “We can’t just cut back into her!”

“That’s exactly what we’re going to do,” Crowley replied.

“No! She’s already terrified we can’t-”

“I can put her to sleep,” Castiel suggested. “She shouldn’t feel a thing.”

“Well, let’s get this over with,” Crowley walked out of the dungeon and over to your room.

“What’s he doing here?” You glared at Dean when the four men entered your bedroom. You had been seated on your couch reading when Crowley knocked and opened the door.

“Dean, maybe you should wait outside,” Sam told him quietly. Dean nodded slightly and backed out of the room.

“She’s asking for you,” Sam smiled a little, walking into the library to find Dean downing another glass of whiskey.

“Seriously!? She wants to see me?” He practically jumped out of the chair and then hurried to your room. He took a deep breath and opened your door.

You were at the edge of your bed with one knee tucked against you. When Dean entered, you looked at him with tear-stained eyes and let a quiet sob leave your lips.

“I’m so sorry,” You whispered. “De, I’m so, so sorry!”

“No, no, no it’s- none of this is your fault,” He hurried to your side but hesitated to wrap his arms around you. “Can I… Can I hug you? Please?”

“Of course,” You replied and wrapped your arms around him when he held you. “I love you so much, Dean, I’m so sorry I believed the demon.”

“It’s not your fault, it was a hex bag,” He kissed the crown of your head. “You didn’t have a choice.”

“I know, but I should’ve been able to snap out of it!” You protested. “I mean, these hands,” You took his left hand and held it, kissing his palm gently. “I love these hands, how could I have believed that they, that you hurt me?” You kissed his hand again then looked up at him. “I’m sorry, for what I said.”

“It’s okay,” He kissed your forehead. “I’m just glad you’re okay, that you’re back.” The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while before Dean asked you, “How are you feeling?”

“Physically? Fine. Emotionally? Fucking terrible,” You replied, squeezing Dean tighter. “I keep getting these like flashbacks about what the demon did, and in a lot of the memories the demon still looks like you.”

“I’m sorry sweetheart, that sounds awful!”

“Yeah,” You sighed. “I'll be okay though, I’ve got you.”

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fluff #dean winchester comfort #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #by mind empty just fictional people #by jean

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xxvalkyriesxx · 3 months ago

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Flying Changes - Chapter Two

A Nessian Equestrian Fic

Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part

Read on AO3 or below!

CW: discussions of food/eating, withdrawal symptoms of alcohol, PTSD (Nesta), and Cassian being an ass.

Sleep found Nesta before she noticed as she settled into the bed that would be her’s for the foreseeable future. Out of habit she cuddled a pillow to her chest, reminding her of the times growing up when she cuddled with stuffed animals that provided a little comfort in her darkest hour.

Her breathing was slow as the stars were still lit in the sky. The AC blew cold air into the room. Nesta snuggled deeper into the pillow when suddenly the door to her room slammed open. Nesta bolted upright, screaming.

Standing in the doorway was Cassian with his obnoxious smirk. His hair was in the same style as it was last night.

“Good morning, Sweetheart. Rise and shine. We’ve got feeding to do.” His voice caked in honey that just felt vile.

“What the fuck are you doing?? Did you ever consider knocking??”

“My house, my rules, Sweetheart. And knocking is a privilege not a right. Hop to it. The horses can’t wait forever.”

Nesta growled, throwing the covers off her before marching to the door. She slammed the door shut, however Cassian stuck his foot in place at the right time.

“Five minutes. Anything more than that and I will purposely bring you to the barns with you over my shoulder.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Nesta snapped.

“Try me, Sweetheart.” Cassian answered with a smile full of teeth.

The rancher pulled his foot out before walking down the steps, whistling a tone. Nesta fought the urge to yell before she closed the door. She mumbled about living with a caveman. Quickly she changed into a set of jeans and an old tshirt before grabbing old barn boots.

When she came home from the courthouse yesterday, she found that Elain had already packed most of her belongings. Feyre and Rhysand must have given her a heads up before she returned home.

Leave it to Elain to pack everything. Nesta shook her head before making her way downstairs.

Nesta made it to the ground floor when the strong smell of bacon hit her. She hoped she wasn’t drooling when she walked from the staircase down the hall. Finding her way into a decent size kitchen with Cassian sitting at the table reading some book. Nesta took a closer look at the spine.

War A Memoir by Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius. So other than being attractive, he has nothing else going for him. Nesta thought to herself before grabbing two slices of bacon.

“Oh look, you’re here. You know I can still throw you over my shoulder if you want.” Cassian placed his book down.

“As if I want you to touch me like that ever.” Nesta countered

“Are you always this fresh in the morning?”

“It’s for whenever you’re rude to me, I’ll swing right back.”

Cassian held up his hands in surrender.

“You’re gonna need more than just two strips of bacon in your system, Sweetheart. Grab some of the waffles and fruit too for yourself, but eat quickly. Once we’re up, we’re not stopping for a while.”

“I can’t eat all of this.” Nesta gestured to the food on the counter.

“Sweetheart, something you’ll learn here is that we’re a food family. Everyone here loves to eat. We work all day. And to do the work we do, you gotta have food to keep you going.”

Nesta crossed her arms over her chest. Ultimately she didn’t want to put too much in her stomach right now. Not with withdrawals on the horizon.

“Listen if you don’t want to eat it right now, fine, but know that leftovers are scarce here. If someone finds these waffles in the fridge later they might be gone when you want them.”

In response, Nesta bit into an apple.

“Suit yourself, Nes.” Then Cassian walked off. Nesta stormed after him.

“Do not, call me that! My name is Nesta.”

“You’re a court appointed volunteer until you have 375 hours of community service here. I’ll call you whatever I want.” Cassian began to walk away but poked his head back into the kitchen.

“Needless to say, red is a good color on you.” Nesta’s skin flushed.

“Come on, Sweetheart. You’ve had your breakfast, now the horses need theirs.”

“And here is the therapeutic barn. It leads to the indoor arena we mainly use.” Cassian said, as he opened the barn doors.

“There’s another barn on site then?” Nesta asked.

“Indeed. It’s where my family and mine horses stay. They’re not therapeutic trained so we tend to keep them separate.”

About ten horses peered from their stalls. Their ears perked up at Nesta’s presence. Cassian smiled at them.

“Good morning, everyone.” The horses all neighed in return.

“Are you some Disney princess or something?” Nesta puzzled, an eyebrow raised.

Cassian laughed and for some reason Nesta wanted to hear it again. Cassian went on to name every horse and pony in the barn as they stood by waiting for their breakfast. She couldn’t tell most of the breeds by their heads, but she spotted at least two Terrasen Cove Horses.

“And this old fellow is Cylde. He was the previous ranch manager’s horse.”

A chestnut with a grayed face hung his head out his stall window. His ears perked at Cassian. The man stroked the horse’s muzzle gently.

“What happened to him? The ranch manager I mean.”

“Her. Rhys’ mom owned and ran this place until the day she died. She died along with her husband several years ago in a car crash. She adopted Azriel and me when we were younger. So we’ve always been a part of the family business.”

Nesta recalled when she first met Rhysand several years ago, Feyre had thought they would get along because they both grew up around horses. However as Nesta loved being an equestrian, Rhysand was more or less tolerated horses.

“Oh…I’m sorry for your loss.” Nesta commented, her tone a bit softer.

“Thank you. We had to shut down the House of Wind for some time after that. Rhys took ownership of the ranch and hired people to take care of the horses. I was still serving in the military then.” He paused to sort the feed for the morning breakfast before continuing.

“And when I got honorably discharged from the AirForce last year, I attended veteran therapy with horses. From that experience, I knew that I wanted to bring this ranch back to life.” Cassian said before turning to Nesta.

Nesta stood with her hand over her arm. It had been several years since she’d been around horses. Her nails dug slightly into her skin, hoping to keep her emotions at bay.

She could hear Cassian call out for her, but Nesta stopped short when she saw a bay gelding near her. Her heart beat increased as anxiety flooded her veins. This…no this wasn’t Flame. Flame was dead.

Because of her.

All because of her.

Then suddenly she was slammed back into time.

Bright lights, white walls, an alarm for her heart. Nesta stayed in her coated darkness hidden behind closed eyes.

Muffled voices echoed around her in her dreamscape.

“I’m sorry, Miss Archeron. We’re going to have to wait to see if your sister pulls through. She took a nasty fall breaking several bones and getting a concussion. We hope to have her wake up soon, but we can’t promise anything.”

“Nesta…Nesta please forgive me. We had no choice.” A voice whimpered. She felt her hand being held but couldn’t tell who it belonged to.

Where was Flame? Her horse but more importantly he was her best friend. He had been through most of the traumatic events in her life. But where was he now?

She tried to call out his name, but her voice seemed so small, how could anyone hear her? Her breathing grew faster trying to find him, or anyone else. Where was everyone?

“Nesta.” A smooth voice called out to her, erupting her from the dream.

The woman looked up to Cassian. He stood in front of her. A look of worry crossed his face. He made no movement to touch her. Water stung her eyes as she quickly wiped her face with her hand.

“I don’t want to work with the horses. I’ll do whatever else. Just not the horses.”

“Oh uhm, you’re sure? I mean you’re the one with the Olympic medals.”

“Yes. I do not want to work with horses.”

Cassian bit his lip looking around before turning his gaze back onto Nesta.

“That’s…that’s fine. The arenas need to be mucked up and some of the posts around the site. Is that fine?”

Nesta nodded but then turned back to Cassian.

“Shouldn’t I have the keys to a gaiter or something?” Nesta asked but Cassian just chuckled.

“Well sure, however Sweetheart your license was suspended for 1 year starting yesterday. You’re not driving anything even a golf cart.”

“Are you being fucking serious? You don’t need a license for that!”

“Don’t care, Sweetheart. You’re the criminal here out of the two of us. I’m not getting my ass handed to me because you couldn’t move a wheelbarrow.”

She rolled her eyes as she mumbled curses under her breath. Spotting the wheelbarrow in the corner, Nesta walked over and took it. She wheeled out of the barn into the arena, a heavy sigh escaping her as she stood surrounded by sawdust and several droppings of manure.

Jail would’ve been easier than this. It would’ve taken Nesta away from the outside world. From the equestrian world she grew up in. Every scent, sight, and touch felt like it was any other day before the fall three years ago.

Suppress it. We don’t need to think about this now.

Taking a deep breath, Nesta grabbed the rake and wheelbarrow and went to work.

An hour or two later, Nesta finished the arenas. She breathed heavily as she hadn’t been regularly exercising for a long time. She took the wheelbarrow outside, leaving it not far from the gate of the arena. Sweat dripped on her brow, making her huff. It wasn’t terrible outside as they were located in the mountains.

Nesta leaned against a tree trying to remain in the shade for a little while longer to keep herself out of the sun. Mentally she felt a small haze, almost fog like. Her hand wiped more sweat off her as it shook slightly.

As she looked up, she recognized Cassian’s statue not far from her. She groaned.

There goes the rest of my break.

As Nesta began to walk back to duty, she collided with someone else walking near her. The woman made an oof sound as Nesta’s body hit hers. Nesta looked up to see a woman slightly taller than her with copper red hair with her skin decorated in millions of freckles.

The woman stared at Nesta. “Sorry about that, but you must be the new ranch hand that Cassian mentioned.”

Nesta stared back at her. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

She crossed her arms. “I’m Dr. Gwyneth Berdara. But most call me Gwyn.”

“Aren’t you a little young to be a doctor?” Nesta asked, tilting her head slightly.

The woman, Gwyn, scuffed. “Actually, I’m pretty sure I’m older than you…you…I’m sorry, Cassian never mentioned your name.”

“It’s Nesta.”

“Well, Nesta. It’s not really any of your business how old I am now is it?

Oh she has a mouth for sure.

Nesta opened her lips to bark an insult, but she soon closed them. “I’m not wasting my time on this. Besides, you won't like how I continue speaking to you. Most don’t anyway.”

Gwyn wore a daring grin. “Try me.”

Nesta growled “Go fuck yourself.”

“Oooh you’re good. Well, Nesta I best be off.” Gwyn laughed before walking off to the barn.

Nesta stared at her, unsure what exactly happened. Before she could question further, Cassian stood in front of her. His hair was fully up in a bun from how she last saw it that morning. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Pieces of hay stuck to his clothes.

“So you met Gwyn. Thoughts?” Cassian asked.

Nesta blinked at the unexpected question. “Uhm, I mean, she seems nice? I think she’ll be good for future patients.”

“Patients?”

“She’s a doctor?”

A chuckle left Cassian. “Gwyn has her PhD. She’s actually the patient.”

It was a rich sound, like if chocolate cake were to laugh.

What the fuck does that even mean?? Nesta shook her head before relying on the information Cassian gave. She stood dumbfounded as his words sunk in.

“Wait, she’s the patient?? How the fuck..?”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure about all of the details. She lives right near the ranch. She emailed us a month ago asking if her and her therapist could come up and see the horses. This is her second time here. Although, something isn’t clicking with her, but her therapist swears she knows what she’s doing.

“And you believe that?”

“Absolutely not. But she’s not handling the horses so I don’t want to argue too much. I mean she could run her mouth and really put us into jeopardy and…”

His voice trailed off as Nesta shifted her stance, three times in a row. Her left wrist twitched. The sweat felt like it was drenching all over her clothes, down her back.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Her breathing became rapid.

Are you okay? Nesta? What’s wrong? The voice was muffled. Nesta couldn’t respond. Her mouth was tied and dried out. She felt her body move, but she didn’t know how she was walking and sitting on something. A gentle voice, the same one as above, was still speaking.

It’s probably the withdrawal. Been down that road before and I do not envy you. Although thankfully for you, you’re not quitting in the middle of a war zone.

Weight rested on her neck, but it was gentle. It felt nice. Her skin felt clammy and weird, however Nesta’s breathing began to slow.

There she is.

“Sweetheart?”

Nesta looked up to see hazel golden eyes staring at her. The weight of a hand on her neck, and the other on her cheek. She blinked. Once. Twice. Then suddenly she pushed Cassian off her, causing him to fall on his ass into the dirt.

“Shit!” He looked up, offended.

She stood up taking a few deep breaths.

“Nesta.” Another voice called out to her. She groaned at the voice. Turning, Nesta found Eris standing there with her appointed probation officer.

“Oh lovely. The withdrawal look really brings out your eyes.” He said coolly.

She glared. “Fuck you.”

Eris held up a hand. “That won’t be necessary. Come along now. We need to start our meeting.”

He came up behind her, eyeing her up and down. Eris had been her lawyer for years now, since the first arrest three years ago for public intoxication. Had seen her on the worst of her days, so his behavior wasn’t new to her. In a weird way, she almost preferred it. It wasn’t sugar coating anything. He was blunt.

The officer she didn't recognize, but he stood several inches taller than Eris. The lawyer turned his attention to the ranch manager getting off the ground. Cassian dusted the dirt off the backside of his jeans, glaring at his boots.

“Thank you for trying your best at calming her down. Do you have a private room we could use?”

Cassian clenched his jaw for a moment before pointing to the other barn behind him. That was the private barn that he mentioned earlier on in the day. The horses there were all owned by Cassian and his family.

“There’s a tack room first door on your right. Should be a table with some chairs. Meet there.”

A twitch of guilt weighed down Nesta. She didn’t mean to push him away that hard. She began to speak, hoping an apology could be formed. However Cassian simply ignored her. Then he stalked off in the opposite direction.

Eris sighed. “What a bunch of dramatics. Let’s get this show on the road. Come on, Nesta.”

Nesta didn’t move. She kept looking at Cassian.

His figure blurred into the background as Nesta’s eyes blinked, before she fell.

Tag List (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @chairofchaos @blueunoias @velarisdusk @c-e-d-dreamer @jsmelodies @inkedinshadows @wolfnesta @lilah-asteria @highqueenmorrigan

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gateau-au-earl · 7 months ago

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kuroshitsuji s4e1/ED thoughts

ok yall now that it has been over 24 hrs and I've seen the ep over three times, I have THOUGHTS. mostly very positive, everything was beautful to look at and the 1:1 comparisons between the manga and the anime made me very happy as a veteran kuro fan that had to live through the mess of s1 and s2 plots (even tho they might have a sentimental place in my heart just because of nostalgia).

but i wanted to come on here and yap about the ending theme and how it encapsulates sebastian and ciel's complicated and very interesting relationship. idk abt yall but im a big fan of the op and ed this season!

first things first just to get this outta the way, I dont interpret them as a ship so please dont come in here with that interpretation 👁️ I'm serious .

that being said -

the ending theme is beautiful in both its animation and what it says about the butler and earl's relationship. I'm just gonna get the gushing outta the way first but it was aesthetically GORGEOUS in its animation. the way ciel fell so gracefully and the colors with SID's music is cinematic perfection. the change in animation style is very easy on the eyes as well! gg cloverworks animation team!

this has been marinating for a while, but what really gets me is the scene where ciel falls. he is falling into darkness, when it suddenly becomes lighter, with the sun illuminating the clouds. sebastian "saves" him and they fall together across this very pretty backdrop.

the demon might've caught him, but that doesn't prompt him to rescue ciel, to stop him from falling to his death.

sebas instead gently takes ciel's hand to guide him there. he gives ciel a false sense of security, of trust, catching the boy when he's at his darkest place, but instead of saving him, he drags him to down to his hell. he is deceiving ciel with a beautiful view and promises in their contract that will ultimately hurt ciel. its cruel and will only lead to pain for our earl.

sebas is a demon (obviously) who is leading ciel to his doom, but the path they take is twisted and tragic but strangely beautiful like the gorgeous sky in the ED.

ciel enjoys the power and omnipotence he has with sebastian, knowing full well the demon is leading him to his demise. he knows that this relationship will end him being sebastian's dinner. ciel knows he can't trust sebas, but does anyways because sebas is the only person who can't hurt him until he inevitably does.

the fall might result in an ugly death, but the view is pretty nice on the way down. the beautiful sky colored with deception, manipulation and misplaced trust.

yeah, sebastian will end up hurting ciel the most at the end, but the boy doesn't care at the moment. sebas is the only ""person"" who knows him with all the ugliness of his past, yet still protects him, serves him, and doesn't treat him like a helpless creature. so ciel is forced to place trust in a fundamentally untrustworthy creature knowing he is inches away from the demons bared fangs.

sebastian helps him survive his living hell now and get what he needs to get done, so he doesn't care what happens after. his descent to darkness becomes much more beautiful as a result.

shippers may have one interpretation (which I'm NOT a fan of...), but this is how I see it, and I think it makes this ending all the more impactful and tragic. but here I am, and I'm enthralled by the beauty and can't look away.

anyways, thanks for reading my brain dump, and looking forward to ep 2 folks!!! hope yall liked my micro analysis/semi organized gushing, and r enjoying this kuro renaissance as much as I am! here's a professor michaelis for reading this far

#kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji analysis #ciel phantomhive #sebastian michaelis #black butler #shoukuzai sid #professor michaelis #kuroshitsuji public school arc #kuro spoilers #kuroshitsuji s4 #kuroshitsuji ED #do not tag as ship :/#not ship #my two cents do with it what u will #gateau au earl #long post

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aizawaskittenwhore · 1 year ago

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august first—r. braun

summary: you fuck reiner as a birthday gift. that’s pretty much it.

notes/content warnings: rough sex, facefucking, degradation, choking, some angst cause relationships are messy, unprotected p in v sex cause we raw dog over here, armin is a sweetheart and eren needs to go to bed, i think i covered everything but let me know if i missed anythin!

this was meant to be a birthday piece for rei 😔*stares in september * to be completely honest i have zero idea how long this ended up being but it’s been taking up space in my drafts and i kinda freestyled it so enjoy sexies <3

the floor is sticky with liquor, limestone tiles splotched with little islands of red as reiner’s body meets it, it’s surface tacky beneath his flushed skin. his head lolls back against the dial of his dishwasher, seeming to relish in the surrounding moment. the apartment is quiet with the din of murmured voices, gentle rustling of keys , someone slipping on a jacket, a faint “who’s riding with jean?” uttered from one of the many intoxicated partygoers; as for who , he does not know.

all reiner is aware of is the thrum of his heartbeat in his ears, body warm with the coat of whiskey, the glow of his solar return pervading the sallows of his face from the previous year’s torment; as if filling a once-deflated balloon with air yet again.

confetti has woven itself into the carpet, solo cups littering the surrounding dining room, a cake still sits on the table, half-eaten. “happy birthday reiner” it read, for a total of ten minutes. only reiner’s name remains due to your insistence that the birthday boy should get to eat his own name, and in pure self-adoring leo fashion, he co-signed.

and there his name sits, beneath its hard plastic shell as his gifts are sprawled around, some big, some small; though reiner had insisted that presents weren’t necessary by any means, you all came together to at least get him a few things to remember the day by. and what a day it had been. he was grateful. and so, so drunk.

his body suddenly takes a dive to the right—he had failed to realize his passive swaying from side to side and lost his balance—his face finds itself directly in your lap, nose mere inches away from knocking over a rather tall bottle of grey goose lingering not too far from your current position. you’re not much better than he is, face flushed and your smile dazed, as you begin to card your fingers through his hair, seemingly unaffected by his sudden landing.

“hey, we’re gonna head out.” armin says, footsteps lightly sticking with every step he takes further into the kitchen. he grimaces at the noise, but says nothing, in favor of checking on the pair of you. yet before he can utter the words “are you guys alright?” a hefty grip on armin’s wrist from the stockier blond sends armin to his knees, discombobulating the shorter man momentarily before he was met with a fierce hug.

“thank you..for coming.” reiner had been struggling to properly pronounce his syllables since the fourth round of tequila shots with eren, but those four words were the most coherent he’d been all night. the sentiment wasn’t lost on armin, and he returned the embrace, even if his lungs felt the slightest bit compressed the longer they hugged. “n-no problem!” armin pats his back thrice and shifts his gaze to you once reiner pulls away and nestles into your lap yet again. “would you like a ride home? you and sasha live not too far from each other, so it’s on our way.” he offers, so thoughtful as always. you begin to nod your head, thinking of the throbbing sensation that’ll soon swim within your temples, your lack of a change of clothes, along with numerous other things—

“i don’t mind if you stay..” reiner mumbles, a hand swirling patterns into your thigh. “never have, you used to sleep over all the time. i still got your toothbrush, s’ in my bathroom” he’s drunk, there’s no nuance , it sounds so scandalous when he says it like that and yet your heart picks up when he says your toothbrush is still in your space in his bathroom. you contemplate his words, given that it’s two minutes shy of one am (from what you can make out via a blurred glance at the microwave), and it is rather late..

armin surveys the two of you with a knowing glance, choosing to once again say nothing. he’s always been one for reading between the lines, clearly there’s some unspoken tension between you and the birthday boy, a history even. “n-not like that.” you laugh, pulse quickening as you try to divert armin’s attention from reiner’s hand attempting to work its way up your thigh, minuscule movements of his hand feeling like leaps and bounds over your already heated skin. “there was a time where i was going through some shit, so reiner let me hang here for a little while. it’s not nearly as..uh..intimate as it sounds.” your voice is low, your head leaned towards armin.

“i don’t mind sleeping here though. it’s one in the morning, and you’ve already gotta take sasha and eren’s drunk ass home. i’ll be good here.” a smile, and a gentle hand on armin’s shoulder is enough for him to leave you with reiner for the night.

“text me if you need anything, okay?”

mikasa‘s jacket and eren’s vomit crusted dress shirt clink amongst armin’s keys as he makes his way to the door (the shirt is tied in a plastic bag, he’s not a psycho).

‘maybe the mad dog jello shots were a bit much’, you think, saying your goodbyes to everyone as they stumble down the remainder of the driveway, jean corralling each person into their designated cars, and silently regretting his decision to double up with armin tonight to drive. it doesn’t help that he’s shoeless, considering eren yacked all over those too. it’s not funny, but it is, and you laugh as the door clicks behind you.

parties have a very poignant atmosphere.

they fill the space and somehow suck the air out of it once it’s over. but what you feel right now has nothing to do with the party and everything to do with the tension between you and reiner. who seems to have disappeared from his spot on the kitchen floor and made his way to the shower, leaving behind a trail of clothes in his wake. his loft is spacious, open floor plans met with a man’s taste in furniture (which equates to the bare minimum, sadly) and sumptuous windows that stretch from floor to ceiling. it’s one way glass, can’t see in but you can see out, rather convenient considering reiner had a very bad habit of never wanting to wear clothes around the house. case and point, the calvin klein boxers strewn across his floor. ‘jesus, even when he’s drunk he’s a slob.’ you think, grimacing as you reach for them in an attempt to chuck them into the nearby hamper—

“sorry for the mess.” he mutters, stepping out of shower as a plume of steam clings to the nearby mirror. towel hanging from his waist, hair slick with water. the scent of his soap and deodorant envelop you as he walks past, rifling through his dresser in an attempt to find clothes for the both of you. from the quick glance at his figure you’d allowed yourself, you quickly deduce that reiner finally made good on that crossfit membership he’d been blabbing about for the last three months. he was always handsome, always with a body that looked like it was carved from stone but the torso you’re looking at (and shouldn’t be) has gotten a major upgrade. ‘this is a bad idea’ you think to yourself, wondering how you allowed a spur of the moment decision lead you back into a bedroom you swore you’d never step foot in again.

you weren’t lying to armin when you said that the conditions of you staying with reiner weren’t romantic, that part was true; but the last time you were in this house, this room, things weren’t exactly…platonic.

“i found these, pretty sure you forgot em when you were leaving.”

a grey t-shirt and a pair of panties plop onto the bed where you sit, and you cringe upon the realization that you’d even left anything here to begin with. he offers you a pair of his sweatpants to help preserve your dignity, but you decline, knowing there’s no way they’d fit you.

“you remember where the towels are, yeah?”

you nod. third door to the left, past the coffee maker.

“cool. use whatever’s in there, i don’t care. i’ll be in the living room, so if you need somethin’ just yell.”

you give him a thumbs up as you disappear into the bathroom, the humidity mimicking the haziness of your mind as it begins to wander, your hands slippery with soap as you run the cloth over the curve of your hip, the same way he did that night.

“fuckkkk.” the sight before you is delicious, blonde burrowing it’s way between your thighs as reiner tongues your clit; a man starved. lust has taken over the bedroom, coiling around the two of you and winding so tight you feel as though you might burst, but if this is what it feels like to be consumed, you don’t mind one bit. he’s rutting against the bed desperately, your moans sending him into a frenzy; his mouth pools with your essence and he can barely contain himself. he adds his ring and middle finger to the equation, sensing you need more, just the slightest bit extra to bring you to paradise and you keen with pleasure.

“don’t stop..m’ gonna cum..” you’re shaking now, thighs shuddering around his ears and your pulse begins to throb so hard you can feel it in your temples, each wave of dopamine crashing over you, into you; you’ve never gotten head like that before. trust, you’d remember if you had. his tongue wanders in the mess you’ve made between your legs, and his face is no exception. your slick glistens in the cropped cut of his facial hair, and before you can utter a word of embarrassment, his tongue is giving you a taste of what he’d worked so hard to pull from you. the kiss is filthy, lips slotted together with strings of saliva; they break like bubbles when you pull away for air.

“shit!” lost in reverie, you’d failed to notice the increasing temperature of the shower water until it scalds your skin, shocking you back to the present moment. soft linen wraps around your body, soothing the harsh burn, legs still shining with droplets as you towel off, noting that you smell just like reiner does; but you’d rather not ride that train of thought. you make your way to the kitchen for a glass of water, brow raising as you realize his slice of cake is missing.

“the fuck?”

“what’s wrong?” floats from the living room.

“the hell happened to your cake?” you peer around the corner, and find the answer to your question stuffing his face. “nevermind.” you laugh, taking a seat on the couch, a cushion separating the both of you. he gestures with his left hand, offering a fork full; you take it, given that you’re both still not sober and this slice of sponge cake is the closest thing you’ve had to food in the last few hours. buttercream icing coats the roof of your mouth and you moan in sheer joy.

“oh my god.”

“right? shits’ so good” reiner mumbles, already on his last bite. his eyes are closed in bliss and you can’t help but feel jealous, you ache to be the cause of his expression rather than some slice of confectionery. little do you know, when your head turns, his eyes rake up the expanse of your bare thighs, resolve crumbling little by little. you’re beautiful, beyond it. he fights the urge to caress you and settles for a loaded question:

“why’d you say that to armin?”

“say what?” you respond. you’re avoiding his gaze intentionally, you know exactly what he’s asking about, this just isn’t the time.

“that it ‘wasn’t like that’ when i said you could stay the night.” the fork clatters against the cardboard of the cake box, filling the silence for a second, but it does nothing to ease the awkwardness of this interaction. “because it’s the truth? i didn’t start staying here so we could be fuck buddies—“

“—but that’s what happened, right?”

“reiner. don’t start this again.” you warn, tone firm. it’s not that you don’t want to talk about this, it’s been weighing on your heart since the night you left, but what could you say? you were running from the problems in your relationship and escaped into the arms of someone you called a friend, and very quickly that became much more than a friendship. the man your boyfriend couldn’t stand became your shoulder to cry on, and dick to ride. and in the end, everyone got hurt. you included.

“how’s galliard?” his voice seems harmless, but you sense the smugness that lies beneath.

“really? now?”

“it’s just a question.”

a pause.

“i haven’t seen him since..you know. we’ve spoken though. he seems to be doing alright, i think.” you answer. you briefly remember a photo dump he posted coming across your feed, he was in the netherlands with his brother last you heard, but that’s as much as you know. you’ve kept your distance from your ex since the fallout of your breakup, and for good reason. considering the last time you’d spoken, he’d told you that he “hopes it was worth it” and that you were dead to him.

you couldn’t be mad. if the roles were reversed, you’d have probably said the same.

the relationship (despite its relatively short run of five months) was volatile, and galliard has never had a desire to communicate with people in a way that isn’t riddled with hostility and aggression. it was the source of many arguments, and “i’m sorry” voicemails. one night you got sick of it, the pettiness, tit for tat, the pointed indirect insults in front of friends, the building of resentment every day you stayed together; so you left, needing to clear some space in your already heavy heart. a bag hurriedly packed, you’d found yourself at the door of a friend who you knew would have questions, but would never judge.

but friends don’t do the things you have done with one another.

“why did you invite me tonight?” since we’re asking loaded questions.

the text came as a surprise, a simple invitation and an address linked in a text message: ‘hey. my friends are throwing me a birthday party tonight. my house. i was wondering if you wanted to come. it’s cool if not, here’s my address tho in case you forgot it’

“i wanted to see you.”

“bullshit.” you scoff.

“why would i lie? you know how i feel about you.”

a pause.

“prove it.” the reposado speaks for you now, and you’re feeling dangerously curious to see just how far reiner will go. intoxication makes for a great truth serum, you’ve learned. he balks at your challenge, pupils shattering and reforming all at once as he attempts to snap himself out of whatever daydream he’s conjured. it has to be, there’s no way you’re sat so prettily on his couch making “fuck me” eyes, with a sliver of your panties visible beneath that thin fucking shirt. it’s a dream. has to be.

a chuckle. “you’re fuckin with me, right?” reiner’s fidgeting slightly, trying not to draw your attention to his increasing arousal.

“not even a little bit.” you’re so close he can feel your breath ghosting along his lips, a hair away from unleashing the pent up sexual tension between the both of you, but you don’t move any further. “i feel kinda bad..you invited me to your party, and i didn’t even get you a gift.” you pout.

“you can make it up to me.”

he’s finally gotten the courage to make the first move, securing both hands around your waist and tugging you into his lap. your clit pulses almost rhythmically when your lips meet, and the noises he’s making aren’t helping. “take these off.” he groans, plucking the waistband of your panties. you oblige his request, but the cool air still makes you shiver when your back hits the couch, legs spread. his eyes rake up your body, once, twice, before his middle and ring fingers take their place spreading your lips; they trace circles around your clit once they’ve spread enough of your juices around to slicken things up, but he’s just getting started. all the little gasps and cracks in your voice drive him insane, and while reiner loves to tease, he couldn’t wait any longer to taste you. locking himself between your thighs, his arms securing your legs around his head, he makes sure to hold on to your hips when he begins to suck on your clit. there’s no running for you, not when you’ve been dangling this pussy in front of him all evening. his tongue is fluid, slippery when it strokes your sensitive nub from every direction, he’s everywhere and somehow you still want more. “feels so good..don’t stop—” you beg, hips bucking into his face. he loves seeing you so fucked out, so desperate to cum all over his tongue, it only encourages him more as his fingers curl against that spot that makes your vision dip, and you gush all over his lips and jaw. your face burns with arousal and mild embarrassment, but he couldn’t be more pleased.

“can’t believe you let me eat this pussy ..and you made me watch you cum all over my face…such a slut.” he mumbles, his tongue still running laps around your clit. still throbbing, still sensitive. your body shivers and shakes with the continuous sensation, but reiner couldn’t care less. he licks and sucks with reckless abandon for a minute or two longer, before finally detaching himself from you, and giving your body reprieve. you struggle to catch your breath, your attention now drawn to the tented fabric below reiner’s torso. knowing it’s a shitty thing to think of in the current moment, you can’t help but lament at just how much thicker he is than your ex.

then again, reiner braun has never been, especially physically, average.

you splay your hands across his length as he pulls you in, neurons firing when you taste yourself on his tongue. he groans into your mouth, his eyes fluttering when you’re stroking and twisting your hand like that—

a brief disconnection of your lips forces his eyes open, but it’s worth it when he gets to sear the mental image of you spitting into his dick into his eyelids for eternity. your hand strokes the hottest noises out of him, the schlick-schlick of your motions only getting faster when filth begins to pour from his lips.

“mhm. just like that—fuck, i missed my nasty girl.”

you don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on before. and that’s saying a lot, genuinely. your tongue winds around his tip, settling against the underside of his shaft as you descend; the remainder of his dick is in your right hand as you work him over. your efforts matter little though, as reiner has other plans for your tight, tight throat. his hand settles at the base of your neck, winding his fingers at the root of your hair, and grips. rocking you backwards and forwards, he bullies his cock into your throat, and he nearly cums when he watches your eyes well up with tears; at first you panic at the activation of your gag reflex, but your throat slowly relaxes once you realize resistance is futile.

“take it…ah, shit—just like that mama, feels so fuckin good..such a good girl when im fuckin your face” he praises through gritted teeth, pumping himself with your throat a few more times before stopping, and changing your position so that the two of you were in missionary. you’d be lying if you said it didn’t get you soaked whenever he’d handle you so roughly, the way your eyes would glaze over and your body would become completely pliant for him and him only. for him to be such a typically serious and quiet man, reiner was so mean, so cocky when he fucked; even teasing you for the way you whine when he puts the tip in: “what’s the matter? can’t take the real thing? i know it’s—”

he retreats, and slams back in, taking a ruthless pace. “a lot bigger than those little boys you whore around with.” he finishes with a whisper, folding your knees into your tits as he throws your legs over his shoulders. “m’ n-not a whore..” you whine, voice cracking.

“no? you haven’t seen me in three whole months, you come over for a few hours and the first thing you let me do was stretch out this tight little cunt.” he taunts, a thumb circling your clit. “y-yeah..m-missed you..missed this dick—“ you babble, eyes rolling.

“i know baby, i know, let me in, let daddy make you feel good.”

“j-just like that, fuck fuck fuck” you feel like you’re on the verge of collapse, his cock is pummeling it’s way into your stomach, his sweat is glistening in the glow of his lights and it’s taking everything in you not to beg this man to cum in you here and now. “only whores know how to take dick and still be able to beg for more.” he taunts, his little hair trick from before making an encore appearance as he forces you to watch yourself be debauched, a thick white ring forming at the base of his length like a badge of honor. he was fucking into you so fast and so deep it made you dizzy, but you were too far gone. “love when you fuck me like this’, love when you slut me out” you mumble, teetering on the edge of cumming, you’re so close you can taste it—

“fuck, you’re so fuckin’ nasty, such a good girl for me, always lettin’ me get my way.” reiner moans, a hand wrapped around your throat and a good squeeze has your vision exploding, you melt and your body goes limp, senses still firing off as he coats your insides with sticky white seed.

the aftercare is, to be real, half assed. you’re both exhausted, but reiner still makes sure you’re wiped down with a hot towel, and carries you to bed upon your insistence that you’d, quote, “love to enjoy the sleep part of being fucked to sleep”. you doze off quickly, and reiner follows suit shortly after; the both of you failing to hear reiner’s phone emit a soft ding!

eren 2:23am

you owe me that 20 dollars

your apple watch is still synced to my phone from leg day man…not judging tho. get in there soldier 🫡

#reiner brainrot #kittybutmakeitferal #reiner x reader #aot smut #snk reiner #snk smut #reiner braun #reiner x y/n #reiner x reader smut #reiner braun smut

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posttexasstressdisorder · 7 days ago

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Where we go from here...

It took me awhile last evening to get my mind in the right place to do the baking I had to do. I thought I would put on some music on my little radio station to kick my head into work mode. Tried some Glenn Gould playing Bach (always a go-to for morning coffee music), and it didn't hit right.

So I dialed up the huge mix I have titled "1969-72" and almost immediately started the long road back to feeling like myself. After about a half-hour, I was in the groove. Listened to the mix far into the night, after I'd finished working.

I managed to keep my focus and got the cookies all baked, and kiddo's mom happily packed them up and just left for her party, and I'm over here for the next couple of nights, sadly for my back. Two nights of "No Mattress For Old Men" and I'll need a week to recover, but hey...

Wanna thank all y'all for your comments and messages when I posted that I was prolly just gonna go black. Y'all loved me back off the ledge. Posted in a moment of true despair...something I haven't felt in awhile. I am hurting for all of us...and all of you. I have never in my long life been scared for the nation until now. Or at least that's what I thought. This feeling of complete despair, the emotional pain of millions of people, the hopelessness, the fear for the future...after I sat with it awhile I realized yes, that I have felt this same combination of toxic shit before.

In the 65 years I've been on this stinkin' rock, I've been through a number of particularly devastating previous elections, most notably the two Bush2(Dumbya) regimes. I remember the night of the 2004 election...Americans were posting tearful photos taken by their webcams, with them holding up signs saying "We're sorry."

I saw first-hand all the fights for rights that we have gained from the early '60s onward. To find ourselves set back to square one, 50-60 years later, when we had finally gained some footing toward fairness, is cruel. And cruelty is what they will wield as their main weapons in the coming days, as we suddenly find ourselves in the same predicament as 1963-65 when a virginal Joan Baez and little Bobby Dylan changed protest music forever.

So yes, I have felt this same way, and no, the nation didn't die or descend into complete chaos. Our lives went on, essentially as they had, with a growing pile of "things we can't do anymore" heaped atop via the collective wounding of 9/11.

This is another collective wounding--an intentional collective wounding. The next few months are going to be chaotic, they will try to push through their agenda as quickly as possible come january.

I may not post much overtly political stuff from this point on, but if I do it will be refocused on positive news. I don't know for certain how long that might last, but I can't take a 24/7 barrage of bad news and outrage bait. I'm probably gonna unfollow a few blogs, but don't think it's personal...it is Mental/Emotional Health Care.

And yes, I've been in the trenches with y'all a long time...we are all Family at this point...Brothers and Sisters in arms. I'm not leaving, but my presence/role will be different, out of the renewed sense of self-preservation this has thrust me into.

I woke up disoriented, but quickly remembered I'd gotten what I needed to get done done, and had a slow re-entry, sipping my coffee for a couple hours. I kept remembering how well the music had helped me last night, and then the beginnings of what this might turn into began to coalesce. Concepts of a plan. lulz.

As the day went on, I've been on a roller-coaster, emotionally, with seemingly hopeful leads on a roommate not materializing, on top of my craigslist ad for a roomie getting flagged and deleted. Pretty goddamn hopeless as far as this situation is going.

Looked at the huge box of cookies I'd managed to bake last night and it hit me. I've been reblogging the "Gooood Morning, TUMBLR!" graphics every morning up until the election. The image of Robin Williams being in character calling up the role of the military DJ.

Back when I did my cafe in the mountains of NM, a friend lent me a book called "Radio Venceramos", about South American rebels who had a radio transmitter and clamped the leads to the barbed-wire fences to broadcast their signal/programming to their fellow rebels.

Still not sure how the format will work out, but I've decided: my new role is going to primarily be the voice of inspiration over the air-waves to my fellow rebels. Not sure if it will be a second blog or if it will be a continuation of PTSD, but with no further ado, I will become the Voice of my fellow rebels with:

I may make a second blog out of it, but until then I guess I'll make it a series of posts. Tumblr will let you blog up to ten videos/post, and that may be how I start things out. Consider them like stacks of 45s and LP tracks from my paul-shaffer-brain...meant to help keep spirits up and keep the focus.

Made a couple of graphics, will probably try others in the course of it.

So the message today was "You did what you had to do. Heal up for what's ahead."

I will probably start this new focus in the morning...I'm still chewin'.

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marleysfinest · 2 months ago

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I'm going to kick off my own event and shout about some of the angels who have made life truly exceptional. more 2 come!!!! I will not be cutting I'm sorry y'all are just gonna have to witness who these incredible human beans are

✨@pisspope; my spouse across the waves. the other half of my soul. the one who turned my head and made me retire the phrase of never fucking with the jaegers. u inspire me every day and the fact I get to call you a friend is insanity actually and I love u bitch

✨@fromriches-tosin; it's actually beyond my comprehension how talented u are. ruler of reijean, your fics have given me HOURS of eating the most delicious content in the world. shady queen I value so much from our home in the stables

✨ @sailorspica; it has been nothing short of an honour to be here while u discover self-shipping mrs ackerman. your writing is some of the best I've ever read and I hope u realise how gifted you are!! thank u also for turning me on to chappell roan, I fear I would've been stuck in the dark ages without u

✨@oxygenbefore1775; somehow u have been blessed not only by an immense storytelling talent but u are also an incredible artist??? the bridging tongues art will continue to live in my head rent-free until the end of time. I'm extremely grateful we can discuss period-era sukuna together

✨@strawberrystepmom; simply the kindest sweetest soul I've ever known. kendy u are sunshine personified; perhaps u did bring one s*guru g*to into my life but I forgive u. not only are you a beacon of goodness and joy you are also such a talented writer and hilariously funny. ily kendy!!!

✨@quiveringdeer; nat I gotta be honest and tell the people you are the reason I'm still here!! the first person to reach out to me when I set up this lil blog and indulge and inspire me!! I'm smooching u always!!

✨@ssslime; rorybeb I am always so elated to hear from u. you make me laugh so so so much and I'm so happy to know u. you make me feel sane when I'm bellyaching about Momming and for that I will love u until the end of time

✨@neiptune; supremely talented writer, artist, my sworn enemy. need I say more???

✨@vampyrsm; cor unum changed my life and I'm so serious when I say that. I can't adequately put into words both how much I enjoyed that fic from a story perspective and also ur intoxicating writing style. your creativity is an inspiration!!

✨@pavloves-dog; leigh I always know I can get filthy with u and ykw? that's invaluable. I simply cannot put a price on it. u r such a sweetheart and I'm so happy to know u; whether I will still be saying this when naoya is animated WE'LL SEE

✨@bloompompom; the other half of the duo making me Fuck With The Jaegers. bloomy ur art is perfection to me; ur talent is unbelievable and I'm so happy I get to witness it truly!! u r an inspiration!!!

#feelgood500

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breathe-2am · 5 months ago

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118 Blunt Rotation Headcanons

Bobby: does not partake, but the ultimate trip sitter. Keeps the chaos generally controlled, but finds everything very funny, in a i-will-tell-you-about-this-tomorrow-and-you-will-cringe kind of way. Disappears for an hour and come back with homecooked food, everyone is beside themselves in gratitude. Starts telling a funny story about this one time he Smoked Pot, but about halfway thru he along with everyone else realizes its not funny and is probably something he should talk to that twink priest about.

Hen: laughs at EVERYTHING. Finds a random object like a ballpoint pen or a half full bottle of water and its THEE most fascinating thing shes EVER seen. Gets up to go to the bathroom, doesnt come back, when they go looking for her shes just staring at herself in the mirror. Very in her feels abt how she loves her friends. Says she needs to change shirts at one point bc she hates the fabric actually. Comes back in an entirely different outfit.

Chimney: a yapper. Every thought in his brain is out his mouth. Running commentary of the happenings. Jokes make less and less sense but hen finds them funnier and funnier. Talks with his hands to a dangerous extent. Eating whatever bobby made w his fingers, which is not a good combination when he gestures too wide and flings it at bucks face. He thinks this is the funniest thing that happened all night bc buck doesnt even react.

Buck: Out of everyone here, hes got the most experience in a blunt circle (youre going to look at me and tell me that im wrong? He had frosted tips and lived in a FRATHOUSE dawg) but hasnt been a smoke weed everyday bitch in a while so when he does he thinks his tolerance what it used to be. It isnt. Man is FLAVOR BLASTED he is SCHWASTED. Cant talk bc hes giggling while staring vacantly at the ceiling. Zones out, resurfaces to drop a random fact related to a conversation that was happening ten minutes ago, and hes gone again.

Eddie: Eats bobbys food and cries bc its delicious. Laughs at chinmeys jokes and cries bc hes so funny. Stares at hen and cries bc shes so beautiful. Thinks abt chris and cries bc he loves him so much. Buck is absentmindedly petting his hair to calm his tears and cries bc his best friend is so kind. Has to get up but doesnt want to bc the floor is so comfy. I love you bitchessss this is the year im gonna get my SHIT togetherrrrrrrrr what r these floors made of theyre so niiiiiiiiiiiice.....

Maddie: obsessive abt the Vibe, keeps getting up to turn on or off a lamp bc it was too bright but now its too dark. Perched in a mountain of pillows and blankets, keeps readjusting bc she has to b Maximum Comfy. Changes the song a minute in when its 'not the vibe'. Pulls out the most out of pocket story about buck as a kid but hes not even absorbing whats going on so she doesnt feel bad. Shes trying to rest her head on chinmeys shoulder but hes moving too much and shes getting annoyed.

Karen: the funniest bitch in the room. Monologuing abt space, which segues to robotics, which segues to government, which segues to capitalism, which segues to how they need to go to the beach RIGHT NOW. Hens looking at her like that twink boutta pounce meme. Sings along w the song playing, starts bitching at maddie bc she skipped it. Talking abt the sanctity of the playlist and respecting the music, but then says 'wait i hate this song' and commanders the spotify, she and maddie have a tug of war over the phone.

Tommy: touchy feely bitch. Started sitting next to buck but at some point graduated to trying to sit in his lap but now hes just sprawling across him like a weighted blanket. Voice has no inflection. He and chimney start excitedly talking abt a bad movie only they have seen and it goes on for way too long bc he starts chattering abt two characters he thinks should have ended up together. Eventually is just laying there curled up with buck, he realizes he loves his life and the people in it, has a little Moment.

Athena: does not partake, remind them that drug testing is a thing in their line of work, has Choice Words when the phrase California Sober is dropped. Taking pics for blackmail. Despite all that, she makes sure everyone is alright and helps bobby clean up. The next morning she makes coffee for everyone, and when people complain abt their backs or necks hurting she says 'thats what you get for sleeping on the floor'.

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aihoshiino · 9 months ago

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chapter 139 thoughts

Because of the content of this chapter I will unavoidably have to discuss CSA and topics related to it, including grooming, emotional abuse and sexual assault. I do not discuss them in great detail, but if you very understandably just aren't in the headspace for that, no hard feelings - look after yourself and I'll see you next time.

Gonna say up top that my review of this chapter is probably gonna read more negative than it necessarily is, because I do not think this was an Actively Bad chapter. It was, however, a deeply frustrating one and it's because of a lot of small things piling up that are starting to really grind my gears.

ai eating sweets with that head empty expression again makes this a tenouttaten chapter regardless of anything else i say here btw

As was foreshadowed by Kamiki's appearance last week, this time we're finally diving into some of the details around how Kamiki and Ai met. I'm a little surprise by how… I guess, unceremonious it is? This is the catalyst for the entire rest of the story, after all. It's the first meeting between the twins' parents and the first time Ai comes face to face with the man who will eventually kill her. Even given to us secondhand, this should be a pretty weighty, dramatic moment but…

there's no diplomatic way to say this so I will say this the undiplomatic way: I really kind of fucking hate that a moment this meaningful was undermined by flaccid incest bait jokes again lmao. I absolutely loathe that any kind of complexity the mutual past life reveal could have introduced to the twins' dynamic and any potential exploration of Ruby's feelings on the matter has been completely tossed by the wayside in favor of just having her splooge about her oniichan every time they're together. I've said before and I'll say again: I think the idea of Ruby developing confusedly romantic feelings for Aqua in the wake of realizing he was Gorou is a deeply compelling one and I would be on board with Oshi no Ko exploring that dynamic if it was actually going to explore it. The way Oshi no Ko leans into and explores the discomfort and dysphoria caused by the friction between the twins' past lives and their current selves is incredibly compelling when we actually get it and it's so baffling to me that one of the biggest, most braindead opportunities to continue doing this has not been snatched up.

We are approaching 20 chapters worth of time, in and out of universe, since this reveal happened and almost nothing has come of it. The most exploration we've gotten of how this changes things is in Mengo's interlude chapter for the twins which just feels all the more jarring in hindsight when the main story has been so stuck on using it for this incredibly tired and worn out incest bait comedy. Like, come on, man. It's 2024. What are we even doing here.

Bitching aside for the time being, I did really like the little scene between Taiki & Aqua, though. Both of them are dealing with some deeply heavy material and portraying real people they themselves both have a lot of baggage with so I appreciate they're given a moment to breathe and get those feelings out. Though again, we are given frustratingly little insight into whatever is going on with Aqua's head right now and given just how much weight and focus was given to Ruby coming to understand Ai and get into the right headspace to act as her, it feels really jarring and conspicuous that we have absolutely no idea how he's done the same for Kamiki.

H O W E V E R. I think this scene does contain a fascinating and potentially huge reveal that can easily be missed if you let yourself be distracted by Ruby; Kamiki, at least as portrayed by Aqua at this point in time, has white stars in his eyes. While I don't subscribe to the idea of In Depth Hoshigan Colour Decoding that's common elsewhere in the fandom, this does undeniably put middle school Kamiki in a closer emotional headspace to Ai than his present day self. Given what we see of the black hoshigan in other characters and knowing that this is Kamiki in the thick of his abuse at Airi's hands, this implies that despite all the horror he's been subjected to thus far this is still a Kamiki who has some light left in him. In fact, everything about Aqua's portrayal of him here suggests a certain sense of kindness and innocence that has yet to be ripped away from him which is very, very interesting. This is, after all, a hateful work written to kill Aqua's father. So this disarmingly likable and sympathetic portrayal of him as an undeniable victim throws a lot about the movie's intentions into question

what i'm saying is even aqua is furthering the kamiki hikaru babygirlification agenda. so true, king.

That said, this scene also comes with its own nits to pick, which is the reveal - or I guess. the confirmation - that Ruby does in fact know who her father is. While we don't know exactly what and how much she knows, I think it's reasonable to conclude that she's been brought on board with at least everything about him the movie confirms. And like… man… wouldn't it be really great to have seen Ruby learn any of that information on screen? Wouldn't it have been really interesting to see Ruby learn literally any fucking information about this revenge quest and the man who murdered her beloved mother and to have to work out how to process all that? Wouldn't it have made a kickass arc for Ruby to learn that even the man she despised for killing her mother was himself a victim of the entertainment industry, to see the damage that can be caused by a relationship between an adult and a child when she herself was innocently fantasizing about a similarly huge age gap between her and Gorou and to perhaps go through some conflict and internal growth based on all this?

but no. splooging over her brother is a much more important use of page time. i guess.

speaking of airi. the image of her carrying around the baby she conceived by raping eleven year old boy, right in front of him at the place she is continuing to abuse him is so incredibly foul and rancid i kind of want to throw up about it. on god i hope hell's hot enough.

It's pretty short, but the montage of Ai and Hikaru spending time together and him gradually softening and opening up to her a little more was really sweet. I've been super interested in the HikaAi relationship ever since we learned who Hikaru even was so even these little tidbits filtered through 15YL's portrayal are really exciting to get. It also lends some credence to something I've been theorizing about why Ai specifically wanted to be with Hikaru - she seems to understand and relate to his experiences with objectification at the hands of the adults and people around him and to feel some sense of solidarity with him as a result. In terms of theming, I always expected the HKAI relationship to contain echoes of AquKana and AquAka - Hikaru is a dark mirror to Aqua, so it makes sense that his relationships would be so as well - and in this sense, I think we can see an echo of the AquAka romance there. In Hikaru, Ai begins to believe she can find a person who can understand and accept her. … or that's my theory as of now, anyway.

And that final scene between Airi and Hikaru… whoof. Genuinely blood curdling. In general, the reveal of just how long Hikari was being actively abused by Airi made my stomach churn - for some reason, it had never occurred to me that it might have run parallel to his meeting with Ai but the idea that this wasn't just a one-off incident, but active grooming and abuse that Airi got away with thanks to her position of power and authority over this child in her care for years… genuinely revolting and I do mean that in the best possible way.

CSA is such a heavy topic and quite frankly, anime and manga are not historically delicate or tasteful in its portrayal - especially when it comes to male victims of assault. Ever since we were told what had happened to Hikaru, I was really on the fence about whether this was something OnK could tackle in the way it needed to be. So far, though, I think its portrayal and indictment of Airi's abuse is excellent. It is not allowed to be a spectacle, and we are shown just enough to understand the nauseating scope of the horror Hikaru has been subjected to. I'm hoping Aka and Mengo are able to keep this up.

No break next week! Maybe one after next chapter, though? 140 will be the final chapter of volume 14 and I'm curious to see what note it's going to end on.

#oshi no ko #oshi no posting #onk spoilers #csa mention

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