#((this kinda took a long while to get to but heres to bringing this thread back because I adore these twos' friendship ToT)) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

huaiian · 3 months ago

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Imagine Being Loved By Me (Sylus x Fem!Reader)

Summary:

“I’ll relent. Give my kitten a few hours to…play with her toy. To do as she pleases.”

In short, it’s the MC/Reader’s birthday and Sylus let’s her have her way with him.

Pairing: Sylus x Fem!Reader or MC

Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY

Words: 4.6 K

AO3 Link Here

Tags: Light Dom/Sub, Dom!MC or Dom!Reader, Sub!Sylus, Bondage, Cumming (kinda) Untouched, Overstimulation, Porn but there's a thread of a plot

Author's Note: Hope you all enjoy! I haven't really written anything like this in a LOOOONG time so if it's not great I apologize. This is basically just me going hmm, what if you tied him up and made him cry. And well uhh….idk this happened. If you aren't into Submissive Sylus then I'm sorry, you'll probably want to skip out on this one ╥﹏╥

You awoke to rays of sun gently fanning across your face. Your nose scrunched up and you stretched your hands above your head, groaning slightly as your joints began to pop. You felt arms wrap around your waist and you smiled slightly, eyes opening slightly, glancing to the side.

“Someone’s up bright and early,” Sylus sighs, arms bringing you closer to him. His head moves to the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath and giving you a gentle kiss on your pulse point. Your smile widens, cradling the back of his head and guiding him upwards. You share a small peck before pulling back, adoration clear in your gaze.

“Happy birthday, my love,” he whispers into the morning air. You kiss him again as he envelopes you in his embrace.

The day progresses as any other day would, aside from the fact that it’s your birthday and Sylus will stop at nothing to shower you with gifts and attention. Did you mention a beautiful Tiffany & Co. necklace you wanted? He got you the entire collection. You said you wanted a new purse right? He took it upon himself to get you every Birkin he could find in person. It was all too much for you, having a more reserved and shy personality usually, but it’s your birthday so why not live a little.

Sylus led you from place to place, joining you in all of your favorite hobbies before surprising you at the end of the night with your closest friends and coworkers at the local karaoke bar. Sylus had to use his pseudonym, Skye, just as he did when you had coincidentally met him in a similar circumstance. Only this time, instead of trying to distance yourself from him the entire night, you were doing your best not to drag him towards you and kiss him until you saw stars.

“Sweetie,” he whispered in your ear, a shiver running up your spine, “you still have one more gift that you’ll need to open.”

“Oh?” You questioned, your eyebrow raising ever so slightly. “And what might that gift be? Don’t tell me you bought me an entire island or something ridiculous.”

Sylus was silent for a beat, causing you to straighten and whirl around, eyes wide and mouth agape at the implication. He chuckles while shaking his head, eyes scrunching up at the corners. “No my dear, though it can be arranged. All you need to do is ask,”

“NO, no I’m definitely happy and definitely don’t need you to spend anything more than you already have,” you stammer, a light blush coloring your cheeks. His laughter dies down and he smirks, leaning forward so his mouth is up against your ear.

“No love, this gift won’t cost me a thing,” his breath fanning out across your ear. Almost as if he could hear your confusion, he clarifies for you.

“I’ll relent. Give my kitten a few hours to…play with her toy. To do as she pleases.”

You could feel warmth rush through you in that moment, understanding the implication of his words. You never believed in the phrase ‘butterflies in your stomach’ until now, feeling the strange sensation combined with your heart stuttering in your chest, you could tell that it was going to be a long night.

After Sylus’ slight teasing, you slowly begin to exit the karaoke bar, hugging friends and catching up with some old co-workers here and there before finally making a subtle departure. You didn’t want to ruin the party for everyone else, but you also had a present waiting at home that had been plaguing your mind for hours now. You snatched Sylus’ hand and started dragging him over to his motorcycle, the man squeezing your hand gently.

“I see someone’s anticipation is slowly getting the best of her,” he teased. The motorcycle came into view, which only made you take larger strides.

“If I had known how much you’d enjoy this gift, I would’ve departed a long time ago-” his voice was cut off by you suddenly swinging him forward, leaning him against the bike before cupping his cheeks. His eyes widened before you brought his face forward, your lips colliding in an aggressive kiss, showcasing your pent up frustration. He hummed into the kiss before his hands came to rest on your hips.

As the kiss deepened, his hands snake towards your ass, that is until you swatted them away. You broke the kiss to find an adorably confused expression on his face. You lean forward, slightly on your tiptoes to try to make eye contact.

“I’m sorry, I thought the birthday girl was going to call the shots. Isn’t that right?” You questioned him with a smug demeanor. His eyes darkened before nodding. You grabbed his chin and pulled him in for another kiss, where it was obvious that you were in complete control. He could feel the smile on your face before pulling back again.

“That’s my good boy.”

He groans, eyes closing again before you bring him back into a possessive kiss. You wanted to muffle any sounds he might make in case anyone had the audacity of hearing him in this state; a state only you were allowed to see. You broke apart from him again, his eyes opening again and looking towards you for further direction.

“Let’s get you home baby, I’ll take care of you,” you softly tell him, hand cupping his face and thumb gently wiping just before his eye. He nods mindlessly at you before whispering “yes ma’am.” He climbs atop of the motorcycle as you follow close behind. Before you realize it, Sylus is weaving in and out of traffic at speeds you knew were nowhere near safe. Could it be due to your hand squeezing his inner thigh, your chest pressed against his back ever so tightly.

When you arrive at home, you notice that the twins and Mephisto aren’t there to welcome you home. You sigh slightly out of exasperation, taking Sylus’ hand once more before leading him inside the house. The darkness and silence is all encompassing, all that can be heard in yours and Sylus’ breaths desperately trying to calm yourselves of your racing heartbeats.

As you move through the house, you finally locate the bedroom door, noticing that candles had been lit, illuminating the room in a gentle glow.

“I’ll have to give the boys their thanks later,” you state, giggling slightly to yourself at the turn of events.

Sylus frowns slightly before squeezing your hand harder to indicate his irritation at the mention of the twins. You laugh openly now, ushering Sylus to sit on the bed.

“It seems that someone’s a jealous little toy huh,” you speak, an authoritative tone engulfing your words in a new weight. Sylus scoffs, crossing his arms and turning his head to the side.

“As though you wouldn’t be upset with me if I starting bringing up other women in the bedroom,”

“What other women Sylus,” you speak up, your hands grabbing his wrists and unfolding his arms. You widen your stance and take a seat on his lap, your index finger and thumb grasping his chin to force him to look you in the eye. He looks at you with a slight scowl on his face, but his widening pupils and growing bulge in his pants tells you that the expression is just for show.

“Enlighten me,” you tease, leaning forward so your lips ghost his ever so slightly, “what other women are you talking to?” The question falls upon deaf ears as your hand moves from his chin to his hair, curling around some strands before gripping tightly, tugging his head backwards. Sylus gasps sharply as you feel his cock twitch below you. You move your head swiftly to his neck, kissing up his neck before reaching his jawline just below his ear. You start sucking sharply, nipping at the skin to ensure that a mark appears in your wake.

He moans low, his hands fisting the sheets below him. His head falls to the side, allowing you greater access to his neck. You let go of the sensitive skin, but you don’t move away. Your breaths dampening the skin below you before you ask again, “Answer me Sylus: What other women are you talking to?”

“No one,” he states, sounding out of breath and ragged before groaning again as you bite his neck with pressure just enough to leave a mark. You release his neck before licking a stripe upwards, whispering in his ear, “that’s a good boy,” before softly biting his ear lobe.

Sylus’ hips buck upwards, searching for any kind of friction. You let out a ‘hmph’ before grinding down harshly, forcing a muttered ‘oh fuck’ out of his mouth.

“Now that won’t do,” you state, slowly getting up from his lap. He opens his eyes slowly, half lidded. His eyes watch you as you move your way towards the dresser, his breath stuttering as he sees you grab rope you both are all too familiar with. He kicks off his shoes and climbs onto the bed, positioning himself on his knees with his hands behind his back.

“How obedient,” you observe as he sits, awaiting for your instruction, “but we won’t be in this position today.” He quirks an eyebrow up at you, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. You smirk as well, knowing that the poor bastard had no idea what he had signed up for when offering his last present to you.

You kick off your heels and crawl in front of him on your knees. His chest starts rising and falling more noticeably and he tries to calm his breathing. You start undressing him, giving gentle instructions as needed. He obeyed without any resistance and as you were slowly peeling off his last layer, cock springing upwards and onto his stomach, you heard a quiet moan leave him.

You remove the boxers and throw them to the side, attention stuck on the pretty pink length twitching slightly at your gaze. You lean forward, licking a fat stripe on the underside of his cock, reveling in the way his breath stutters and his thighs shake. You give a quick suck to the head before pulling back, raising your head upwards to make eye contact with the man.

“Sweetie please,” he whispers, hand reaching forward to grab your waist. You quickly took his wrist and put your other hand on the middle of his check slowly pushing him backwards on the bed, pinning his hands above his head, straddling his hips. You could feel his cock underneath you through your jeans, moving your hips in a subtle circular motion. You hear him whimpering faintly, and you squeeze his wrists before letting them go. His wrists stay above his head, his gaze pleading with you to let him feel you in his rough grasp.

You grab the forgotten rope at your side before cupping his cheek, bringing him into a tender kiss. Sylus attempted to deepen the kiss, but you smiled and pulled away.

“Spread out baby,” you say to him, unraveling the rope. He rolls his eyes and spreads out, his hands and feet pointing towards their respective corners.

“You know, when I offered up this as a present, I wasn’t expecting…” he trails off, trying to find the right words, “all of this enthusiasm. I thought you enjoyed begging underneath me, begging for my co-”

He was cut off from his bratty tirade by a sharp slap to the inner thigh, causing his hips to buck and the words to die on his tongue.

“I didn’t think I needed to keep that pretty mouth of yours in check,” you say with a bored tone, sighing slightly. You finish up tying the last ankle to the corner of the bed, using a single column tie for his wrists and ankles. As you lean back to acknowledge your handiwork, you can see his arms and legs straining a little, testing out the ropes. Unfortunately for him, the ropes are secure and unless he’s willing to beg, there's no getting out of them now.

You straddle his midriff and he looks up at you with a slight scowl at you tying him down. You cup his cheeks with your hands and kiss him deeply, languidly. You’re able to take your time now and you’re going to savor every second of it. He kisses you back, matching your leisurely pace.

You part the kiss, a string of saliva connecting the two of you. “I have scissors in the left hand drawer,” you mutter, kissing the corner of his mouth. “The safe word is Featherstar. Do I make myself clear?” You look at him sternly, wanting him to take this seriously. He nods his head and attempts to lean forward to kiss you once more. You click your tongue at him, moving away.

“I’m gonna need you to use your words my love,” you tell him in a hushed tone. He pouts at you but nods again, replying with a simple “Yes ma’am, I understand.”

“Thank you sweetie,” you whisper in his ear, causing him to shiver. You start kissing down his neck, leading the middle of his chest. You start sucking and biting different areas on his chest, knowing that the man would start unraveling at the seams. Sure enough, he was humming and groaning at the attention his chest was receiving.

You moved towards his nipple, dragging your tongue across the sensitive bud. You felt it perk up and start to harden as you swirled your tongue around it in small circles.

“Oh sweetie, fuck,” he sighs, his arms straining against the ropes. He lets out an annoyed huff followed by a low pitched groan and you start to suck on the raised bud. You continue sucking and your other hand caresses his side, trailing your fingers upwards until they reach his other nipple. You tweak the unoccupied nipple in between your fingers, pinching and rubbing it in small circles similar to your tongues movements before swapping the two. Your mouth comes and replaces your hand while your other hand comes up to caress his pec.

Sylus moans and twitches underneath you, becoming more and more agitated by his inability to touch you. “Baby, when will you release me? This is getting a bit boring, don’t you think?” He tries his best to keep his voice from wavering with arousal.

You look up at him and bite down on his nipple, causing the man to moan and tip his head back on the bed. You release his nipples and kiss your way to the center of his chest again. “Bargaining isn’t going to work my dear, I’m afraid you’re just going to have to get used to this.”

He tries to calm his breathing as you start caressing his body, your fingers applying feather light pressure to him, goosebumps rising on his skin. You venture lower until you’re sitting back, his cock straining against his stomach in a red color that looks somewhat irritated from the lack of attention.

Your touch delicately brushes against his length, his cock jumping and twitching with every touch. “You’re killin’ me sweetie,” he says, sounding out of breath. You continue the movements, making no effort to apply anymore pressure or stimulation. He whimpers as his dick starts leaking a constant stream of precum, creating a shallow puddle on his stomach.

“You can come just from this can’t you?” You ask, tilting your head to the side. He shakes his head slightly before flinching as your fingers gather some of the precum, teasing the tip. His thighs flex, trying to plant his feet onto the mattress but to no avail. You giggle at his reaction, playing with the slit before leaning forward, licking the shell of his ear.

“Don’t you want to make me proud? It is my birthday after all,” you purr into his ear, his breathing becoming erratic. You could tell he was close, all he needed was some pushing. You took your free hand and grasped his hair.

“Don’t you want to be a good boy, make me proud?” You say, tugging his hair so his head would be pulled back. He made a choked off noise and shut his eyes suddenly, whimpering as he came, hot streaks of cum shooting up towards his chest. You could see the veins in his arms protruding from being restricted. You smiled, cooing in his ear praises of how well he was doing.

Sylus took a few calming breaths before looking at you, his eyes glassy and gaze filled with longing. “Please baby, let me go,” he tries again. You shake your head before getting up, straddling him again. He quirks an eyebrow before you start to undress yourself, shimmying out of your jeans and pulling off your top, only left in a matching underwear set you treated yourself to for your big day. His eyes widened as he gazed upon the maroon lace seemingly painted across your breasts.

His distraction was evident as you started to crawl your way upwards, pussy hovering over his face. Even so, his eyes had not left the lingerie once. It seemed as though he was unaware as to what your next move would be, completely taken aback by your choice of attire to ask any questions. You gripped his hair again to tilt his head backwards so he made eye contact with you.

“Try to keep up,” you stated, using your other hand to push your panties aside. His mouth drops open, saliva beginning to pool in his mouth. Before he can retort, your thighs spread further apart, sitting yourself on his mouth, nose nudging your clit. You moan out as he tongue begins to work you open, lapping up the wetness with a new refound vigor. You started rutting against his mouth, grinding downward so his nose would grind against your clit at an addicting pace.

“Your tongue-” you groan, removing your hands so you could place them behind you, leaning back against his thighs, “God you’re good at this.” You gripped his upper thighs, feeling the firm muscle underneath your hands quivering. You lifted your hips up and away from his mouth for a moment to let him catch his breath. The smug satisfaction pools in the pit of your stomach as you see his chin glisten, mouth open while he takes a brief reprieve.

“You better get your ass back over here sweetie-” he starts, impatience in his voice. You roll your eyes at him once more pushing yourself back into his mouth. “I’m gonna need to punish you for speaking out of turn like that, ya know,” you tell him, grinding down harder and harder as he works you open. You gasp as he starts fucking you open with his tongue, moaning at your taste.

You glance behind you and find not only is he fully erect again, but it seems he’s just as close to release as you. And well, we can’t have that can we?

You could feel yourself getting close, and as rode him harder and faster, you reached for his cock behind you, squeezing just under his head. Sylus whimpers loudly in response, but continues to bring you closer and closer to the edge.

With one last nudge of his nose against your clit, your eyes rolled in the back of your head, body going stiff and you came on his tongue. You could feel him pant against your thigh as he tried to calm himself, hips thrusting upward to try and reach his release as well.

“Love please let me come, please, you tasted so good I wanna come too, please,” he begs, mumbling against the inside of your thigh. You pull back from his mouth as he whimpers in protest. You raise up, letting go of his cock as it falls against his stomach heavily. You take off your bra and panties, looking at him with a devious glint in your eye.

You grab him by the chin so his mouth would open slightly. “Open up,” you ordered and he reluctantly obeyed. You realized he was going to try to come up with a witty retort, but you knew how to satiate him for the time being. You took your panties coated in your wetness and shoved them in his mouth, gagging him. His eyes rolled in the back of his head and moaned loudly.

“Don’t worry Sylus, I just wanted to save your stamina,” you tell him, moving backwards so your cunt was hovering over his cock. He shivered and moaned at the feeling of you grinding down on his dick, heavy with want and radiating with heat. You moved your cunt against him, slicking up his dick. You finally lifted up and grabbed the base of his shaft, circling the head around your entrance. He started breathing heavily through his nose, the pressure from his yanking causing the ropes around him making the bed frame creak.

“Such a patient boy, you’ve been waiting so nicely,” you gasp out as you slowly start to sink down on him. He moans loudly, voice muffled by the panties. You take him inch by inch before sitting fully on him, feeling filled to the brim. All that can be heard are the desperate breaths between the two of you. You place your hands on his abs before raising yourself up, tip almost slipping out. As your hips come down forcefully, you hear a punched out moan escape Sylus, little noises escaping him the more you move, however slight.

You start riding him with new vigor, bouncing up and down on his cock, trying to get him to reach deeper and deeper inside you. His moans are becoming louder and louder, with whimpers escaping him whenever you take a moment to sit and swivel your hips in circular motions. The sounds Sylus begins to make sound more and more frantic, wobbly from desperation.

“It’s ok, cum for me Sylus. Fill me up, I wanna be filled with your cum,” your tone sounding strained and you uncontrollably start moving on his cock, desperate for him. It only takes a few more times bouncing on his cock before you hear a muffled shout, feeling warmth spread through you. You moan out, a high pitched squeal leaving your lips as you cum around his cock, milking him inside of you.

You look over and see his head lolled to the side, saliva dripping out of the side of his mouth around your panties. You lean forward and gently move his face so he looks at you. You cup his cheek and praise him as you gingerly remove the panties from his mouth. He breathes through his mouth deeply, coughing slightly.

You had planned to be done from here, thinking that you've had enough fun, but you can’t help but think of how far you’ll be able to push the infamous leader of Onychinus. A devious part in you wants to break him, while another part of you wants to give him mercy.

You decide to be selfish, still craving more and more from him. You squeeze around his cock and he groans out, mumbling a soft “baby, please”. Before long, you start moving in circles again, and Sylus is below you, pleading with tears in his eyes.

“Oh God, oh fuck, I don’t- I don’t know if I- SHIT!” He yells out, tears escaping from the corner of his eyes, head hitting the bed behind him hard as he tries grasping for something, anything to keep him grounded.

“Miss please, please, I can’t I- I need to touch you please please,” he begs, voice coming out shaky as you start lifting yourself up and down on his cock again. You were getting tired and felt as though his punishment had gone on long enough.

“Just your legs-” before you could continue, Sylus’ evol appears out of thin air, slicing the ropes that are connecting his ankles to the corners of the bed. You startle, stopping for a second before yelping, bracing your hands on his chest as he plants his feet into the bed, roughly thrusting up into you. You moan out harshly, sounds punching out of you with every thrust of his hips.

“You feel so good around me sweetie, so hot…so soft…kiss me,” he babbles. You prop yourself up and surge forward, meeting him in the middle. Your teeth clash and you can feel desperation in the kiss as you both try to ground yourselves with the other.

“Sylus please…please I need more, I need you to mark me, claim me, I’m all yours,” you whimper. His arms flex and his biceps bulge at the urge to grab you, feel your plush skin against his roughened palms. He whimpers at the realization of the restraints, giving you a pleading look that could send you to your knees.

“Touch me Sylus,” you order. Within an instant, his voice evol slashes the ropes and he’s grabbing you, taking you by the hips and physically lifting you up and down his cock. You scream out in pleasure as you can feel your release approaching swiftly. You can tell by his sloppy movements and frenzied expression that he’s close as well.

You begin to chant his name over and over, having the words be punched out of you by his thrusts. You feel him hitting you deeper and deeper, fucking his cum back into you over and over again. You grasp the back of his neck and pull him to you, kissing him sloppily.

As he returns the kiss to you, you break away slightly with a silent scream, hurdling over the edge and feeling nothing but a white static. Your body feels euphoric and, at the sight of your pleasure, Sylus gasps and thrusts up into you with one sharp movement, cumming hard to the point where it bordered on painful. After coming down from your highs, You languidly grab one of the random pieces of clothing you had discarded before to wipe off his chest.

Before you could get up to get some more cleaning supplies, Sylus holds you captive in his arms as he slowly leans back onto the bed, cradling your head and bringing you to his chest. As your breaths slow and the drowsiness starts to appear, you look up at Sylus.

“Thank you Sylus,” You whisper to him, kissing the center of his chest. He clutches you harder, kissing the top of your head. “I had no idea my love could be so…domineering,” he chuckled as you blushed, hiding your face into his chest. He laughed once more before kissing your head again.

“I don’t mind it though. We can play around a bit more in the future but,” he stops, contemplating for a moment. You look up at him with hope and mischief in your eyes. He sighs and holds you tighter, mumbling “maybe for special occasions only though. Don’t want my kitten to get too greedy with her toys now.”

You laugh and hug him closer to you, craving the intimacy of just being close to him. He tugs you upwards and burrows his head into the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath in before he confides, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let you go.”

You giggle a little at his words and kiss his shoulder, “I don’t think I mind that. Not at all.”

_____

Author's Note: HOPE YOU ENJOYED!! If you'd like to see any other stories or continuations of this let me know, I'd be happy to write some more.

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bobbile-blog · 9 months ago

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Okay so I've finally gotten to Jessicalter's Oprec and now feel qualified to talk about Come Catastrophes or Wakes of Vultures. holy shit. This went straight into my list of top Arknights events. Fantastic event, spoilers will be under the cut so I HIGHLY RECOMMEND reading the event first. It's really good and worth your while.

Anyway, what follows is a scattered mess of thoughts about this event and things that stuck out to me.

First off, plot stuff! I'll probably cover this when I do my next plotline recap post, but what I took away from the end is that Clip Cliff seems to want to make Blacksteel independent, or at least more self-determining than it is now. He seems to be gathering resources and assets like mobile city plates and investing in long-term infrastructure like merc training, so he definitely has a long game he's pushing for. I don't think we know enough go speculate about his goals, but we'll definitely be coming back here again. After all, Tila has an infection monitor in her art, which probably means she's going to be playable at some point in the future.

Next, having looked into this a little on my own, I was interested in some of the previous places Raythean has shown up. Specifically, the ones that stood out were the drones in the Kazimierz Major and arming Silverash's forces in Kjerag, which might be referring to the Tschäggättä. It's not just notable for their apparent level of technology, but also as a faint connecting thread between three separate capitalism plotlines. I don't know if that's going to be meaningful in the future, but I found it interesting enough that I thought I'd bring it up.

Now on to more narrative things. While I love Liskarm and Franka, I do think it was the right choice to give them less screen time in this event. They're both (for the most part) fully-realized characters who understand their own motivations and morals. This is above all else an event about Jessica learning to stand on her own as an adult, so it makes sense that they're more here to support her than they are to play their own roles in the story.

Speaking of said roles, I liked the event's commentary on cops. It pointed out an interesting distinction that I wouldn't really have ever thought of, that between mercenaries and cops. To start: cops exist to protect property, not people. The police exist to protect things and do not have an obligation to err on the side of people over things, and in fact are supposed to do the opposite. This event understands that, and that role os the core of how the bank treats the Blacksteel mercs. CV, however, raises an interesting point that mercenaries are bound by the letter of a contract and not the larger obligation to property cops are, so they can actually raise moral objections and point to their contracts, sort of a Lawful Evil/Lawful Neutral to cops' Neutral Evil. The independence of their position with respect to cops allows for more of an independent morality than you'd get in a cop story and I like that, I think it's a really smart direction to take your writing in.

On a (mostly) separate note, holy shit Arknights is really good at writing cowboy stories. Between this and chapter 9 (and I would argue An Obscure Wanderer), Arknights has repeatedly made it clear that they Do Not Fuck Around with their cowboy stories and I'm surprised I haven't heard more people talking about it. It kinda has everything:

- It takes place in a rural, working-class setting undergoing a larger imminent societal shift that can inform the larger narrative, and deals with a semi-mythologized past that is rapidly disappearing.

- It has a protagonist and an antagonist that serve as foils, both very heavily affected and defined by the (same) violence in their past that they've both had different reactions to. Our protagonist has come to terms with the violence as a tool to maintain order, while our antagonist has used it for personal gain and in some ways lost control of it.

- It's a story about community, and heavily emphasizes local and personal community over larger artificial corporate "community". That's my reading of the recurring motif of the cold btw, warmth represents the close, personal community Davistown used to have and the cold that now pervades it comes from how the bank has systematically dismantled that community.

- And, I'd argue most importantly, it understands the narrative power of a bullet. The Showdown at the end of a cowboy story is powerful because we've spent the entire runtime of our story with these characters, and they are now facing each other down with the intent to end one of their collective two stories. The entire weight of the narrative so far comes to rest on a single moment of tension. It's really hard to gather up the kind of narrative momentum you need to make that hit like it does in CV. For example, it requires a really light hand with actual action in the story, so that it really does feel like it's an even standoff between our protagonist and antagonist. On the other hand, though, you do actually have to establish the relative skill of both parties and actually sell the danger of the moment to the audience. It's really hard to toe the line between tension and actual action in a way that makes for a satisfying resolution, and CV does it extremely well.

Honestly, Arknights just seems really good at getting the vibes of American media right. This is something I noticed in DV and Lonetrail too, and I haven't really been able to put my finger on what it is about them, but the vibes are just really on-point. I want to write more about this at a later point once I actually figure out what it is that I'm feeling, but maybe it's the setting, maybe it's the cast, maybe it's the plot points, maybe it's something in between — it just seems to understand the spirit of period cowboy stories in a way that I can't describe. Good shit.

Finally, I wanna end this with where Jessica is now. The events of CV take place In between the events of Loneterail and Ideal City, so the current "now" of the story is a few months ahead. Jessica left for the frontier along with Woody, Helena, and Miles. They live together in a small new settlement, building the place from the ground up with Woody and Jessica acting as town sherrifs. At the point we're at now, rhe town is fairly well-established and Woody has temporarily left on other business, leaving Jessica the sole sherrif of their new settlement. However, she's risen to her new station, and is growing into a stronger person than she ever was before.

#arknights #come catastrophes or wakes of vultures #jessica the liberated #Arknights thoughts

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wouldntyou-liketoknow · 8 months ago

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Hi, do you still take x reader requests?? If you do, I was wanting a Phantom x reader/Y/N (she/they pronouns) and maybe Y/N got kidnapped by a rival being and he shows up rescue Y/N? Possessive Phantom is one of my favorite ideas, and he’s barely, just barely by a thread holding back from going full on eldritch being on the kidnappers + the rival. Maybe Phantom comforts Y/N afterwards too?

Call me Cos :D (for anon, I’ll be space anon if that isn’t taken)

Well, I do so love my body horror, so I'll admit that I kinda went further than that "just barely by a thread" part. . .

(This is based on a set of headcanons I posted a while ago; go here if you'd like to see them.)

Sorry this took so long, but it's finally finished! I hope you enjoy it!

(Trigger Warnings: violence, body horror, eyes, teeth, mentions of snakes, mentions of insects, implied kidnapping, implied illegal business, talk of death/dying, strong language. Please let me know if I missed anything.)

___

“I’m really not sure what you’re hoping to gain from this,” you announced, resting your cheek against one hand as you looked out at the world through the bars of the cage.

Your captor—an admittedly stunning woman with a halo of crystals orbiting around the golden points of a crown protruding from her silvery hair—hummed thoughtfully.

“Not too much, if I’m being honest,” she answered with a dismissive shrug.

You quirked a brow, straightening your back a little. It was difficult to look her in the eyes; they glowed with undeniable power. The most piercing, dangerous, otherworldly shade of blue you’d ever seen.

Your brain was begging you to focus on something else. Anything else, really. The room outside your cage was extravagant, boasting marble floors and looming pillars and filigree carvings on the walls. Everything was inlaid with blue gemstones in some way. Even your cage, nestled in the corner, was polished and decorated to perfection.

But you still made a valiant attempt to keep eye-contact. You couldn’t just let her think you were some shrinking violet.

“Then why did you bring me here in the first place? Why did you bother to just wait in my mirror until I finally got home?”

The Multiverse Monarch took a few steps closer to further scrutinize you.

“Why does anyone do anything?” She responded. “Why do you mortals insist on making sacrifices, traveling to places you’ve never seen before, crossing bridges that don’t even exist yet?”

“Because we’ll eventually get paid for it,” you replied. “Or, we all hope to, at least.”

Monarch blinked, a small snicker forcing its way through her teeth. She quickly shook her head, engaging in the rolling-your-eyes-with-your-whole-body gesture.

“Because it’s there,” she stated in the most matter-of-fact tone you’d ever heard. “Because it’s just something to do. Something to temporarily keep your little lives from continuing to be mundane as fuck.”

You hummed at the explanation. There was definitely some truth to it, but you thrived on sarcasm. You couldn’t help that; it was a survival mechanism. “I feel like doing any kind of business with Phantom already pretty far from ‘mundane as fuck.’ I almost ended up being one of his contractors when we first met, and now look where I stand with him.”

Monarch tilted her head to the side, folding her arms across her chest. “That kind of thing happens with a lot of dealmakers and potential clients. Much more frequently than you’d think. Don’t feel special.”

“I never said I felt special,” you argued. And now it was your turn to smirk, since it was so obvious that you and Monarch were now thinking the same thing.

Phantom was many, many things. And one of them was, so simply, shady as they came. However, he could also be honest when the mood suited him.

When the two of you had first met, he’d seen you as just another soul with enough potential and enough need of supernatural assistance to be considered for his collection. You, on the other hand, had long-since honed your instincts to sense ulterior motives. And at that point in time, you’d been, for lack of a better word, tired.

Before that point, you’d been stepped on and laughed at and criticized so. Many. Damn. Times.

You’d gotten tired of that.

You’d gotten tired of trying so hard and putting out so much and only getting a few breadcrumbs here and there to show for it.

You’d gotten so tired that it was miracle you’d even bothered to read Phantom’s contract in its entirety.

And even with the potential consequences literally written down right in front of you. . .you’d been tired enough to not care.

So what if your soul became the property of an eldritch abomination?

At least you’d get some time to finally enjoy a few things before that.

You’re not sure what Phantom saw in your tiredness. Hell, you’d flat-out asked him before, and he hadn’t been able to give you a clear answer himself. But that was just it: he’d seen something that he wanted to keep. Not just for his collection, but. . .

Well, Phantom had been quiet for most of that particular meeting, mainly relying on his elevator pitch for small talk as you read through the requirements and expectations. When you took hold on his feather quill, he went silent. He’d stayed silent as you hesitated. You’d felt his eyes boring holes through your skull. And just as you were about to sign your name on the dotted line, Phantom had yanked the contract away, insisting that he needed to make a few updates to it.

The rest, as they say, is history.

“Plus,” you added. “I’ve heard all about the spats the two of you have gotten into. And when you combine those with the business angle of things. . .I mean, I’m not sure what to call it, but it’s still not mundane at all. Isn’t that enough?”

“You’ve only heard about those spats from his perspective,” Monarch snarked. Insanity glinted in her eyes. A buzzing, humming, keening music suddenly stabbed its way into your ears, and you finally had to look away from her, ducking your head and kneading at your temples.

More footsteps clicked closer, and a cold hand was suddenly grasping your chin, slowly forcing you to look back up.

Her eyes. . .they looked even less human than before. Now they were compound, seeming to shudder in their sockets as that frightening blue light glowed brighter and brighter.

A pair of long, sinuous antennae now protruded from her forehead, covered in a network of crystalline veins. They reached down to lightly tap against your scalp, making that unearthly music reverberate in your skull.

“And enough is ภєשєг єภ๏ยﻮђ,” she concluded, allowing you to catch a glimpse of something shuffling about between the rows of her teeth. “ภєשєг ђคร ๒єєภ, ภєשєг ฬเɭɭ ๒є.”

“MONARCH!” A familiar voice suddenly shouted from somewhere outside of the throne room. . .or, it had to be outside the throne room, at least. But then, that voice shouldn’t have been echoing and bouncing around the corners with such violence. “I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME!”

Not if it was a human’s voice, that is.

And that’s why you immediately recognized it. You’d been hearing it almost every day for a good couple years now, after all.

You’d been waiting to hear it today.

“I know you know,” Monarch called back, only slightly raising her own tone as a smirk played at her lips. She released her grip on your chin, strolling away from your cage to settle down onto her throne. “That’s what makes this kind of stuff so fun.”

What sounded like a Category 5 earthquake slammed against the towering side-by-side doors that waited across the room. The thunderous sound was followed by a cacophony of screeching, like razor-sharp claws being dragged across ornate wood and stone.

“Well, if we’re going with that logic,” Phantom seethed from wherever he was, “then you also know that if you don’t bring [Y/N] out here right now, I swear I’ll 𐍂𐍊Ƥ 𐍈𐍁𐨠 𐌴𐌰ζ𐌷 𐍈𐍆 𐌸𐍈𐍁𐍂 𐐎𐍊𐍀𐌾Ⲋ 𐍈𐍀𐌴-𐌱𐌸-𐍈𐍀𐌴!"

Phantom’s pitch seemed to warp like metal, now twisting and rattling in the air. It gave the impression of a hissing, growling, churning well; like he was speaking through multiple people—or multiple monsters, really—at once.

“And I’ll just grow replacements for them,” Monarch replied, examining her fingernails, looking extremely cool and collected someone who was facing promises of dismemberment. “If you’re gonna threaten me, then maybe aim for something that’ll be more difficult to recover.”

Another shockwave pounded against the doors from the other side. The entire room shook; you could feel the floor vibrating through your shoes for a long moment.

Phantom’s voice hummed, shifting from ferocious anger to vicious mockery in a heartbeat. “Like those clones of yours?”

You craned your neck to glance at Monarch through the cage’s bars. You had to bite down a chuckle at the way she stiffened; if there was one thing you and Phantom had bonded over, it was the art of schadenfreude.

“My clones are scattered across the multiverse,” Monarch contended. “It would take you at least six-thousand-nine-hundred years for you to find all of them!”

She let out an icy snicker that made your spine want to crawl its way out of your back and go somewhere a little more quiet. “ץ๏ย’гє คɭгєค๔ץ ђคɭŦ-รєภเɭє; รђ๏ยɭ๔ภ’Շ ๒є Շ๏๏ ɭ๏ภﻮ ๒єŦ๏гє ץ๏ย’гє คɭɭ Շђє ฬคץ Շђєгє.”

“Oh, now you’re in for it,” you murmured. Though the speculation was mainly to yourself, you had no doubts that your captor could hear you.

An animalistic roar echoed through the walls, and the doors shook in their frame yet again. This time, the boom was accentuated by the undeniable call of something shattering.

“𐍊 ꡕ𐌰𐌸 𐌱𐌴 𐐎𐌴ࠋࠋ-𐍈ⱱ𐌴𐍂 𐌰 𐨠𐌷𐍈𐍁Ⲋ𐌰𐍀Ɗ, 𐌱𐍁𐨠 𐍊 𐌰ꡕ 𐍀𐍈𐨠 Ⲋ𐌴𐍀𐍊ࠋ𐌴!”

The latest tremor lingered, not just fading away like the last two strikes. You subconsciously held onto the bars in a white-knuckled grip.

Phantom knew you were here; he wouldn’t make Monarch’s entire palace collapse if it meant the risk of you getting crushed in the rubble. Despite your trust in him, your instincts were on still fire now, screaming that the floor was absolutely going to cave in beneath you at any second.

Phantom spoke up again, dripping with surreal danger. “What about all the souls you’ve gathered? What if I set my sights on those, Moth? They aren’t exactly easy to replace. We both now that better than anyone.”

Monarch stood on her throne, her movement too fluid and quick to be natural. The entire lower-half of her face seemed to have eroded away. Smooth, human-esquse flesh had been replaced by the mandibles you’d seen earlier. They shuddered and snapped, making an odd, almost musical chittering noise.

And right above them. . .her eyes. . .

Her eyes had grown disturbingly wide, rolling around in her head as each of the hexagonal units adorning either of them reflected everything around her. You could see yourself in the corner of them. She was still watching you as much as she was watching Phantom through the doors.

Her antennae now almost resembled crooked swords, twitching so violently that it was a wonder how her crown stayed in place.

The lights of the room flickered, growing dark and insidious. The temperature automatically dropped through several degrees; goosebumps prickled over every square-inch of your skin. Your senses were so shocked by the change that you almost didn’t notice the awful chorus of stretching and tearing that coiled through the room.

By the time you finally looked back at Monarch, you choked on air.

Her fair skin and silvery locks had just finished practically ripping themselves apart to make way for. . .not bones, perse. An exoskeleton: a shining, jagged, horrific carapace that looked like it was molded from liquefied diamonds.

The woman was gone.

An enormous insectoid monster stood in her place.

It was like nothing you’d ever seen before (which was saying something, since you’d seen quite a lot thanks to your relationship with Phantom).

As though you were looking at the impossible result of a mythical threesome between a primordial praying mantis, spider, and butterfly.

Far, far too many long, spindly, dagger-like legs and clutching, serrated claws to count.

At the center of them all was a glowing abdomen that trembled with every breath Monarch took. It ended in a glittering stinger that would make even the world’s sharpest harpoon look like a toothpick.

Her mandibles were now large enough to easily decapitate you with one bite. Each time they moved, an otherworldly chittering rhythm leaked out.

Four billowing wings as vast and blue as a trench in the ocean, covered in organized lines of piercing eye-spots.

No. . .those weren’t spots.

Honest-to-fucking-goodness eyes.

And they were still keeping some focus on you.

Monarch snarled. Against all odds, her voice remained soft. When it mixed with that chittering, however, the sound felt like needles. “ץ๏ย ๔๏ภ'Շ ђคשє Շђє ภєгשє.”

And with that, the doors finally buckled, flying off their hinges to embed themselves in the walls.

A haze of heat and terrifying energy swept into the room, followed an instant later by another abomination.

Despite the anxiety prying at your ribs, you still managed to smile. You even felt butterflies in your stomach.

Phantom was here. He’d come to take you back home.

At first, he seemed to be a sentient, slow-moving tornado of smoke. With your personal experience, you knew that he was simply wearing that fog sort of like a cloak.

As more and more of his true form rippled into the throne room, as all the smoke sliced around him, you could easily see the shapes of bones that all fit together to form a colossal serpentine skeleton.

A vast array of organs writhed further inside the seemingly endless ribcage, glowing similarly to the embers at the bottom of a firepit.

That glow had absolutely nothing on Phantom’s eyes, however.

Then again, you weren’t sure if you could really call them eyes.

The sockets in his triangle-shaped head emitted spiraling plumes of fire. Beneath them, a maw filled to the brim with serrated fangs; the largest ones dripped with luminescent venom that sizzled as it hit the marble floors. A long, forked black tongue flicked in and out between all those teeth like a party favor.

So, in short: the richest, purest form of nightmare fuel for anyone with ophidiophobia. . .well, almost. Two arms (only two at the moment. You knew more could be summoned and then retracted at a second’s notice) jutted out from his sides, each ending in a clutch of five talons.

And there was something peculiar pinched between two of those talons.

“𐨠𐍂𐌸 ꡕ𐌴,” Phantom hissed as he raised his arm to show it off.

It was spherical in shape, almost looking like one of those pretty glass marbles that always seemed to be in antique stores for whatever reason.

But you knew better.

The longer you started at it, the more it seemed to bounce—no, to pulse in the air. It gleamed with a soft, warm, colorful light. A living light.

That was someone’s soul.

You’d seen Phantom handling souls before, but those all had been his (technically) legal property, having been signed over to him by his clients.

Judging by the way Monarch screamed as Phantom tossed it for his other talons to catch, this one had to be part of her collection.

“𐍊𐨠'Ⲋ 𐍂𐌴𐌰ࠋࠋ𐌸 Ⲋ𐍊ꡕƤࠋ𐌴, ꡕ𐍈𐨠𐌷. . .” Phantom put a little more pressure on the soul in his grasp. It responded via turning a darker shade, almost partially deflating like a smoker’s lung. “𐌸𐍈𐍁 𐨠𐌰𐌺𐌴 Ⲋ𐍈ꡕ𐌴𐨠𐌷𐍊𐍀𐌾 𐍆𐍂𐍈ꡕ ꡕ𐌴, 𐌰𐍀Ɗ 𐍊 𐨠𐌰𐌺𐌴 Ⲋ𐍈ꡕ𐌴𐨠𐌷𐍊𐍀𐌾 𐍆𐍂𐍈ꡕ 𐌸𐍈𐍁.”

Monarch bristled. For a brief, horrible moment, you worried that she would reach over and clamp the cage to crush it around you like a soda can.

You’d heard stories of her power. As far as you knew, she was one of few beings strong enough to have a stalemate with Phantom.

The two of them stared at one another for what felt like hours.

“คภ๔ ץ๏ย คɭฬคץร รคץ ՇђคՇ ๏Շђєг קє๏קɭє ςคภ'Շ Շคкє ן๏кєร,” Monarch accused, clicking her mandibles. She then let out an acidic sigh. “Ŧเภє. ﻮเשє ՇђคՇ ๏ภє ๒คςк Շ๏ ๓є, คภ๔ ץ๏ย ςคภ ђคשє ץ๏ยгร.”

“𐍀𐍈,” Phantom snapped. “𐌸𐍈𐍁 𐌾𐍊ⱱ𐌴 𐨠𐌷𐌴ꡕ 𐌱𐌰ζ𐌺 𐍆𐍊𐍂Ⲋ𐨠.”

Monarch hissed, leaning back, tensing up.

“How about you both move at the same time?” You called out, having finally reclaimed your voice.

Both of the crimes against nature swiveled their heads in your direction. One part of you instinctually wanted to curl into a ball. The other part stood firm.

No matter how terrifying Phantom was, no matter how much of a psychological hurdle it always was for you to see him in his true form like this. . .you still knew that he cared about you. He just wanted to keep you safe, to have you stay by his side. Once you were with him again, everything would be fine.

He and Monarch side-eyed each other.

One of Monarch’s legs reached over, clutching at the door to the cage. Simultaneously, Phantom pushed his talons, the soul still in his grasp, toward his rival.

Then, less than a second later, they moved in tandem.

As Phantom passed that unfortunate soul back to its owner, there was suddenly a gaping hole in the middle of the bars. You sprinted out and across the throne room, just barely managing to not trip over that long blue carpet.

Phantom met you halfway, one clutch of talons hovering behind you, gently pushing you to stand closer to him. He lowered his skull, angling it to keep his fangs away as you leaned against him, stretching your arms in an awkward attempt to hug him.

“Շђєгє, รєє? ՇђคՇ ฬครภ'Շ ร๏ ђคг๔,” Monarch piped back up. You didn’t look at her, but you could guess at the snide grin slowly-but-surely spreading over her mandibles. Was this part of the adrenaline rush, or. . .whatever she’d been after? “คɭฬคץร ฬเՇђ Շђє ๔гค๓คՇเςร.”

“𐌸𐍈𐍁'𐍂𐌴 𐍈𐍀𐌴 𐨠𐍈 𐍆𐍁ζ𐌺𐍊𐍀𐌾 𐨠𐌰ࠋ𐌺,” Phantom growled, holding you closer. You could see his horrific excuse for a heart thrashing and shifting through various colors unlike any you’d ever seen on Earth. “𐍊'ꡕ 𐌾𐍈𐍀𐍀𐌰 𐍂𐌴ꡕ𐌴ꡕ𐌱𐌴𐍂 𐨠𐌷𐍊Ⲋ 𐐎𐌷𐌴𐍀 𐍈𐍁𐍂 𐍀𐌴𑀌𐨠 ꡕ𐌴𐌴𐨠𐍊𐍀𐌾 ζ𐍈ꡕ𐌴Ⲋ 𐌰𐍂𐍈𐍁𐍀Ɗ. ʝ𐍁Ⲋ𐨠 𐨠𐌷𐍊𐍀𐌺 𐌰𐌱𐍈𐍁𐨠 𐨠𐌷𐌰𐨠."

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kisaxiii · 6 months ago

Photo

I’m copy/pasting the article here under a read more (it’s kinda long and I don’t want to put an extremely long post on people’s dash) for people who don’t want to click the link and/or can’t read the screen shots.

A Twitter thread has gotten some attention recently, where my former-coworker / current-best friend, Marty, recounted the day he realized just how bad, and insidious, workplace sexism could be.

After noticing that a client was treating him like crap while his email signature was accidentally set to my name, we came up with an experiment. We switched signatures for a week. Nothing changed, except that our clients read me as male and Marty as female. I had one of the easiest weeks of my professional life. He… didn’t.

But I knew long before this experiment that my life at this company was always going to be harder. I knew this on my second day.

Our boss was my age. A wealthy and privileged entrepreneur, he lived his life by the Holy Bible of Tim Ferriss’ 4 Hour Workweek. Our job was to professionally edit and rewrite customers’ resumes. Marty was still living across the country on my first day of work, with plans to move locally and work from our ��office” (my bosses’ apartment) in a few weeks. I asked my boss what Marty was like. He told me, “Oh, he’s a good writer, but he tends to get over emotional about things and let that get in the way of his writing. He’s kind of a girl like that.”

I stared at him, not quite believing what he had said. To me. The only girl he had ever hired. He knew immediately that he had fucked up. He stuttered, tried to backtrack, un-backtracked, ultimately apologized and acknowledged that it was a wrong thing to say. But that didn’t matter. Message received. I put up my walls, and buckled in to try to survive at this job. This wasn’t my first time at this rodeo.

When I did meet Marty, we clicked. We bonded over being awestruck at the casual and not-so-casual moments of sexism my boss would treat me to over the few years that I worked there. Even his compliments were… fun. After a few weeks, I survived the rigorous training process and another male coworker, hired at the same time, did not. My boss complimented me and himself, saying that “I wasn’t going to consider hiring any females, but I’m glad I did. You should be proud, I had thousands of applications but yours stuck out to me, and made me decide to give hiring a girl a try.” Interesting. “Why weren’t you considering hiring any women?”

“Oh, you know. We’ve always had fun here, and I didn’t want the atmosphere to change.”

I would like the record to show that I have the filthiest mouth in the tri-state area, and one of my pasttimes has always been trying to come up with jokes off-color enough that I can actually embarrass Marty. I would also like the record to show that I developed a trucker’s mouth and bawdy sense of humor precisely because I’ve always had to act “like a man” to be found funny and be accepted in male spaces.

I kept working there and taking his money, despite the bullshit I lived with on the daily. When Marty and my boss would talk over me, I’d just get louder. When they drifted off and stopped paying attention while I was talking, I’d rewrite it in an email and force my words in front of their eyes. When my boss Pinkwashed my writing to make it sound more “feminine”, I snuck in and changed it back. And one day, I lit into Marty, telling him that he had a bad habit of talking over me and ignoring me. To his credit, and probably the reason that we are still friends, is that he listened. He took it to heart. He started using his voice to bring attention to me in meetings. I’ve seen him do the same for other women in mixed settings since. I’m grateful for that.

But I never really felt anything like despair, until our experiment ended after a week, and we decided to go to our boss so that we could tell him exactly what it was like writing while female.

He didn’t believe us. He actually said “There are a thousand reasons why the clients could have reacted differently that way. It could be the work, the performance… you have no way of knowing.” For the first time in two years, I *almost* lost my cool. I wanted to grab him by the arms and shake him, scream in his face until he heard me, stress cry and scream at the sky until the world made sense. But I did not cry. That would be breaking The Rules that had kept me alive in this company for this long.

But I will always wonder. What did my boss have to gain by refusing to believe that sexism exists? Even when the evidence is screaming at him, even when his employee who makes him an awful lot of money is telling him, even when THE BOY on staff is telling him??

I never did figure it out. Instead, I quit and started my own business writing blog posts and web copy as a freelancer. In an office of one, I can finally put my walls down.

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brittlebonesguy · 2 years ago

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13,finale,reunion

i’m literally sick. stop winning EVERYTHING lex. can we please phrase voted out lex differently please? we can’t keep saying “we need to get lex off” we just can’t. love this theresa and kim 2 combo. anything to not root for the remaining men. im DONE he’s really winning every goddamn challenge while simultaneously saying he will slit people’s throats. this is the worst season so far. definitely going to be theresa at this tribal. ethan probably after her because hes the next biggest physical threat for lex. theresa....theresa no......noooooooo why did you tell lex?? i’ll miss you. i hate this season. THIS is the final 4? kill me

lev is way too intense, please calm down. making people shake their word on their loved ones, “leading a lamb to slaughter” its not that serious. i think it would be so funny if lex goes out next or even better right before final two just because of how badly he wants it. reeks of desperation. i know it’s not going to happen :/. technically lex, alliances do in fact carry you along in the game. can’t wait until i never have to hear tom’s voice again. FINALLY that mother fucker is gone. tom i mean. that other one is still there. so girlboss kim 2! no please don’t bring lex <3 you and ethan final two doesn’t that sound nice? sounds ideal to me. oh this has been a wonderful turn of events for me. GOODBYE LEX so happy he doesn’t even get the CHANCE to win. this moment almost makes this whole season worth it. oh tea....who do you hate brandon?? kelly no one cares. you aren’t that special, but yes do please start drama. kim 2....i didn’t realize you were this entertaining. saying you would want tom in the final 2 least because he’s sexist? i love it and the second dig on him too...... brandon is so petty. love it. common thread here “i came here tonight thinking i was going to vote for ethan, but....” that’s girl power. tom shut upppppppp this is going on for so long and truly i know your feelings are hurt but that was like 40 seconds too long.

honestly i’m cool with ethan winning.

god no......not this host again. he needs to be fired. “clarence took my racism like a man” okay.... i really got nothing to say about this reunion kinda boring which makes sense for this season.

i’m gonna give this one a...... 4/10 and it’s only this high because of theresa and the fact that lex didn’t win.

#survivor #survivor3

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uraveragelonelyhuman · 2 years ago

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Hi! First off, I just wanna say that I love your writing! It is very very good and I enjoy it very much :D

Second off, I have a request for TWDG

So, how would Marlon, Louis, Clem, Violet, and anyone else you want to add react to their future S/O who has a cat they really really love. Like, say if reader was with Clem whenever her and AJ got rescued. When reader wakes up, they immediately start looking for their cat and when whoever come to check on them, they bring out a knife they have in their shoe and start threading them until reader gets their cat back.

You don’t have to use that idea, just a little thing I thought of. Thank you for your time and thank you if you decide to write this! (Btw if you do you have a request that’ll be prioritized on my blog!)

Have a great day/night!

(Yo! Sure I can! I may have messed this up a bit, so sorry. Anyways, here ya go! Enjoy!)

Marlon, Louis, Clem and Vi x Reader who's missing their cat Platonic, Brother AJ and sibling Reader

MARLON

When they heard the crash and found you guys, Marlon didn’t see your cat around

Much less even know there was a cat in the beginning

So when he heard you had woken up, at first he was sorta relieved but apprehensive

Didn’t help when first thing you did when meeting was pull out a knife they missed in your boot and point it at his neck

You were demanding your cat

Marlon was so fucking confused

“What cat- there was no cat when we found you two and the boy.”

“...whAt-”

When he finally explained, he felt bad because you looked so sad

Your heart was so broken

Your cat was gone

You didn’t know if it ran away or had been eaten by walkers

And Marlon also felt bad because he knew what it was like being attached to an animal

Like he didn’t know what he would do if he lost Rosie

Clem also helped you trying to find it, Marlon tagged along also

And there was no luck until Marlon heard meowing by the gate

He jumped ngl

He then saw the cat

He felt so proud when he returned it to you

Felt like a damn hero with his hands on his hips

He loves the cat also!

He doesn’t like when the cat tries to play with his haier thinking it’s a fellow cat but-

Rosie surprisingly liked it too

Your cat liked him a bit too

Because we all know that if your pet doesn’t like them they gotta go

So yay! All good

LOUIS

Louis when he came to check on you was kinda excited new people were at the school

He and the others hadn’t seen anyone for a long time

But that excitement quickly turned into fear when he was thrown into the wall with a knife to his neck

Hands up and saying “Ay! I come in peace!”

Only thing he got from your yelling was that you had a cat, your cat was gone, and you wanted your cat

Problem was…Louis had found it and claimed it as his own-

Dw he was glad he had what you wanted

But he found the amazing creature who loved him and he loved it

Was so sad that he couldn’t keep it

He missed animals

Except Rosie, loves her to but he hadn’t seen a cat in a long time

Once you took the knife away from his neck he was like

“Okay, thank you for not murdering me- and yeah, I got a cat. What does your cat look like?”

And once you told him he felt so sad he had to part ways with the amazing animal

But nonetheless he gave it back

Felt happy he reunited y’all

And also was so freaking happy because the cat followed him around

You didn’t wanna tear him away from the cat so you let them hang out

And Louis and the cat are best friends now

The cats always on his lap or sitting on his shoulder when eating dinner or playing a game

Always plot

Anything and everything

Pranks, gossip, day-to-day routine

Have their own language

CLEM

You had been with Clem and by extent AJ for a while

So she was pretty used to your cat

She loved it also

The cat was so cuddly

Also AJ loved it also, ever since he was a baby he always seemed fascinated by the little cat

So when you and Clem woke up and you started freaking out about your cat

She sorta panicked also and tried helping you find it

When y’all were introduced with everyone at the school your cat was still missing

Until you guys went hunting, Clem heard meowing and thought it was your cat

And she was right, she found the little feline in a tree as walkers were trying to get it

Once she killed the walkers the cat seemed so excited to see a familiar face and jumped down to her

She walked back with your cat in hand and was so relieved when your eyes sparkled seeing your animal

She missed the cat too tbh

AJ also was excited to see it again!

Vi before it all absolutely loved cats

I believe she had one at some point

When the world went to shit she didn’t think about cats a lot

But when she did she never thought she would see one ever again

So when she went with Marlon and Louis when they heard the crash

She was shocked when she saw you, Clem and AJ all in the car surrounded by the dead

And even more shocked when she saw a cat there

The cat didn’t stick around though, hesitant but ran off when it saw the three teens

Vi was a bit sad but helped you guys out

When she heard you woke up and went to check on you she also got a knife to the throat and was threatened

When she heard you saying you wanted your cat it seemed like it clicked

She explained to you what happened to the cat and you seemed scared a bit

Like the cat could’ve been eaten or gotten hurt

So she helped you in finding the cat

In the hunting grounds, maybe in the school or she once snuck you guys out to the train station to go and find it

But no luck

Until one day she found out it had snuck through the gates and hid behind some of the bushes

She got it out with some food and it liked her a lot

It rubbed it’s head against her hand when she picked it up and let me tell you she loved it so much

When she returned it to you she was happy at how happy you two seemed

But it didn’t end there

No ma’am

The cat loves sticking around her

Y’know those movies where someone dramatically sits in a chair, turning it around with a cat in their lap and is like

“I’ve been expecting you…”

THAT'S VI AND THE CAT

“I’ve been expecting you, (Name).”

“...How long have you been waiting there for me to come in?”

“A while actually. Louis came in and I thought he was you but he passed out in fear- I’m pretty proud of myself.”

You can’t tear them away from each other

Ever

PLATONIC AJ

You had been with Clem since the beginning, and there when AJ was born

AJ never remembered the cat coming along, in truth it was there before he was

The cat was pretty old

But he loved it so much

He never really understood there wasn’t a lot left

But he always liked holding it and how the cat always liked nuzzling its head against his hand

So when you and Clem were asleep, he was angry he couldn’t see you guys and was in a strange place with people he didn’t know

He was also angry because your cat was missing

So he tried finding it everywhere

The others didn’t know what he was looking for because he didn’t tell them and didn’t wanna talk to them without you guys

Everyone just sees him looking under tables like

“Kitty? Where’d you go? (Name)’s gonna wanna see you when they wake up.”

So let’s just say when you guys woke up he felt sad and a bit disappointed in himself because he couldn’t find the cat

So he tried even harder

And he did find the cat

And he felt so proud giving it back to you once he did

The cat also was so happy to see him

Little cat member of the family

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bluskye-27 · 2 years ago

Note

Hey Skye!!

I wanna request for the spin on wheel event!! With fem reader pls!!

Thank youu <3

Napping together with Ace

S/O: Female

- Ace asked you out on a date. So naturally, you agreed

- But turns out, the rain wanted to intervene your first date with the freckled man! 🥹

- You were probably pouting on the couch all day long and was very sad that your date was postponed due to the storm brewing outside. You were really excited for this day but no! Stupid storm just have to ruin it! 😭

- "U-uh, Y/n? Do you mind letting me in? It's kinda freezing out here!" Gasping in disbelief, you bolted towards the front door, opened it and was shocked to see a shivering Ace with a bouquet of wet roses in hand.

- "C-can I come in?" The male smiled sheepishly, albeit his teeth were clattering due to the coldness.

- And of course, you let him in and helped him get dry.

"What were you thinking, Ace! There's a storm today yet you chose to continue the date?" You scoffed, angrily scrubbing the towel on the newly-showered male. "You could've gotten hurt!"

Ace let out a soft chuckle from where he was sitting on the couch, his eyes closed as he was enjoying the feeling of your soft fingers threading through his black hair. "Yeah, but I wanted to continue the date, not even a storm can stop me from being with you," he said quietly, his lips twitching upwards.

Your cheeks flushed a bright red and it took everything within you to hold back the words that almost tumbled from your tongue. He had a point there and if you were honest with yourself, you would've done the same thing.

"W-whatever! Just don't get sick, you idiot!" You snapped in embarrassment, walking away to wash Ace's wet clothes. A small yelp came out of your mouth when you felt something wrap around your waist and pull you close against a hard chest.

"Aw, are you mad, babe?" The ravenette chuckled, leaning down to place a light kiss on your temple, the warmth making you feel better. "Well I suppose it would be the best if we cuddle that anger away, right? What do you say, beautiful?"

You nodded slightly in hesitance and allowed him to pick you up bridal style before laying down with you on the couch. Despite the cramped space, Ace's warmth drew you in.

You two stayed together watching TV for awhile longer, Ace occasionally humming under his breath as he played with your hair while gently massaging your scalp. "So, Ms. Y/n, what can you say for our first date, hm?" The freckled whispered, braiding your hair with those long fingers of his. "Good?"

"No, it was pretty shitty. I was actually expecting to eat some good food but somehow a damn storm ruined it! Ugh!" You groaned, faceplanted on the hard planes of Ace's muscley chest. As for the male, he pouted.

"So you didn't like my cuddles??" He looked down at you in horror and sadness. You quickly turned and raised an eyebrow.

"Of course not! I love cuddling with you but I really wish you'd think about how fucking stupid of what you did! Like, how could you be so reckless! It's dangerous to be outside in the middle of this storm! Especially without a jacket or umbrella!" You gritted out, poking his chest as you punctuated each word.

"But look at us now, babe!" Ace smiled, grabbing onto your hand and bringing it up to his cheek. "We're cuddling and you still like me!" He laughed triumphantly, causing you to roll your eyes and push him playfully.

"I guess you have a point there." You mumbled under your breath, turning away to look out the window to try and hide your embarrassed blush. And after a minute of comfortable silence, you spoke up again.

"Hey, Ace?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you mean what you said earlier? When you told me that you wanted to be with me?"

You were afraid of the answer you might hear. Sure, you knew that Ace liked you a lot, even going as far to declare that he loved you at one point. You didn't doubt that part of the confession but... You have this nagging feeling that he just pitied you.

When you didn't get a response, you looked up and saw that Ace was staring you with half-lidded, loving charcoal eyes. You frowned. "Are you okay?"

The freckled male seemed to snap out of whatever thoughts had taken over his mind and turned his head to smile softly at you. "I'm fine~" He hummed, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Just thinking about how lucky I am to have someone like you by my side."

You blushed and buried your face into his chest, trying to hide your embarrassment. "Stop saying cheesy shit like that, you dork." You muttered, though you couldn't help but smile.

You heard him giggle as he pulled you closer to him. Your heart fluttered a bit and you closed your eyes to savor the moment.

"I love you, Y/n. And I will always be here with you," Ace whispered softly into your ear as you slowly drifted into sleep.

"Love you too, Acezzz..."

The freckled male laughed quietly as you struggled to open your eyes and mouth just to reply to him.

You're too cute, you know that? ;)

Hello, @smokecowpear ! I apologized for the very, VERY late answer! But here you go! I don't think I did good though 😞

#portgas d. ace #portgas d ace x reader #one piece ace x reader #fire fist ace x reader #skye's 100 followers event #wheel of dates!

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esthelle-wanders · 2 years ago

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Season 5–“Possession”—for the following reasons:

1. Group focus. Possession brings to the team what Season 1 brought to the original four ninja— namely, time and interactions. It’s the last “team” season (as opposed to a focus season) that has both the Hagemans and the original character designs, and thus, it kind of marks the end of “classic ninjago” for me. (I liked Skybound, but it’s a Jay-Nya season and nobody else develops, so it feels more like a footnote to the era).

2. Character dynamics. This is my favorite aspect of any story, and Possession delivers. Lloyd and Kai, Kai and Morro, Morro and Wu, Wu and Nya, Nya and Ronin, Nya and Cole, it’s great.

3. Character development. Cole gets a spotlight for the first time in… Ninjago history, and it’s both necessary and compelling (more on that later). The group-focus means that almost everyone gets to shine. I’d argue that the only one who doesn’t is Zane, but that’s fine because he got lots of focus in the last two seasons. Lloyd is both in and out of focus, which was very refreshing, since he didn’t dominate the story, but still got to complete his arcs, namely getting closure with Garmadon and embracing his role as Master. Additionally, Possession is the last season wherein Kai gets any development, really. They wrap up his original arc about wanting to be the Green Ninja, and he feels like he’s really matured, especially by the end. Speaking of which…

4. Arc conclusion. Aside from feeling like the end of an era, Possession also winds up the threads that connect season 3-5. Zane dies in 3, they find him in 4. Garmadon dies in 4, Lloyd gets to say goodbye to him in 5. Morro’s released in 4, they deal with him in 5. Nya’s dissatisfaction from season 1 is finally prioritized and directed. It’s the most satisfying season finale, because it feels like everyone has learned something and grown both stronger and closer. Everything has shifted into a new status quo, with the only genuinely loose threads being Jay and Nya’s relationship, which they obviously address in season 6 (to various degrees of success). The long-term downside to this is that they kept making more Ninjago, and didn’t really come up with new arcs for most of the characters. Like, Kai especially is still suffering from this. His development finished… ten seasons ago?!?!?! What?!?!?

5. Actual consequences. Like the arc conclusions, these are bittersweet because few of them stuck for long or were handled satisfactorily, but they’re great in-season. Cole becoming a ghost was both low-hanging fruit and a stroke of genius. I love it when kids’ shows deal out lasting consequences, and I remember being completely blindsided by it because I didn’t think they’d actually do it. It was emotional, it was meta, and most importantly, it wasn’t fair. Cole didn’t do anything wrong. It was circumstantial and kinda dark and then they took time to show him processing it. His dynamic with Nya was finally acknowledged here and it was a great change for both of them post the Love Triangle of Cringe. Speaking of Nya, while her water powers were convenient and out of the blue and I did miss her as Samurai X, it was also deliberate and in-character. I’ve heard it said that she’s the only Ninjago character with a consistent ongoing arc throughout all the seasons, and this is absolutely true. She got to stand on her own for once, as well, without either Kai or Jay. And Lloyd finally maturing into his role as Master was lovely. His father’s robes were a nice touch. Zane still looks like a robot, which isn’t a Possession change, but helps accentuate how different the team is now and how they still hold together.

6. The opening. Both the art style and the music for the intro are unique and work in tandem to set the mood for the season—dramatic, spooky, dynamic, and deliberate. The character-spotlights convey their personalities splendidly, the animation is engaging, and the soundtrack features part of the Whip that they hadn’t used before— or since to my knowledge. It feels… older, somehow? and made me feel like I was really watching a story unfold, not just a show.

7. Morro. He’s whiny and stereotypical, but I was actually afraid of him— a first for a Ninjago villain. His connection to Wu feels comparatively natural, he’s a great foil to both Kai and Lloyd, and his death is genuinely sad and actually tries to be philosophical, which I appreciated. It also helped characterize Wu in a way that Aspheera definitely never did.

8. Ronin. He’s a trope, he’s a scumbag, and his development was promptly erased for every season after, but he’s still my favorite side character. I love what he brought to the story, his moral ambiguity, and again, his dynamic with Nya (please do not ship them for the love of all things good). He enabled her arc-progression to an extent that no other Ninjago side character had before or has since, and while pretty much everything about him is a trope, his humor, morality, and independent motivations felt really fresh and engaging in a show like this.

Possession’s plot isn’t stellar. It adds a bunch of new world-material that messes with things, it’s angsty, it’s a mixed bag. But despite all of that, its thematic progression and integrity is the best I’ve seen for a Ninjago season yet. Season 8 is definitely my favorite in terms of plot, and other seasons feature moments that moved me more, but 5 is as good as classic Ninjago gets in so many ways. It takes a few risks, it’s a little scary, it’s fun, and the characters find hope, purpose, and connection in the end.

alright ninjago fandom

Rb with your favorite season and why it's your favorite

#this is… long #guess I have more thoughts on this than I remembered #ninjago #my posts

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yandere-daydreams · 4 years ago

Text

Title: Survival of the Fittest.

Pairing: Yandere!Bakugo/Reader/Yandere!Kirishima (BNHA).

Word Count: 3.6k.

TW: Apocalypse/No Quirks AU, Unhealthy Codependency, Non-Consensual Touching, Mentions of Death/injury, Non-Graphic Violence, Imprisonment.

You were lucky Kirishima had been the one to find you.

‘Find’ might’ve been the wrong word. It implied that he was looking, that he wanted to discover you, bleeding and battered and bruised, cowering in a grimy corner of what used to be a grocery store. It must’ve looked pathetic, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be embarrassed by your torn clothes, your matted hair, the way you’d whimpered as he first approached, all wide eyes and open arms. Survivors were few and far between, and it’d been weeks since you saw another living, breathing person. Kirishima hadn’t seemed like a god-send, not in the moment, but he was a miracle. You’d been too shocked to thank him properly, as he pulled you to your feet and practically carried you out of the city, but you should. You wanted to. You owed him that, if nothing else.

You were lucky it’d been him, rather than Bakugo. You were grateful it hadn’t been Bakugo.

You’d probably still be rotting in that corner, if it had been.

He didn’t seem to like you very much, even if he had begrudgingly moved aside when Kirishima asked if he could bring you inside. It was a bunker, judging by the sparse furniture littered around the common area, plain cement walls only adorned with the occasional hunting knife or bat left to lean against them. The bench Kirishima had left you on was wooden, too stiff to ever be comfortable, but it was a practical choice. Fabric was a luxury to be stowed away and treasured, saved for things more important than a stranger’s comfort. You’d do the same thing, if you’d been in his shoes.

That didn’t stop Bakugo from glaring, though, perching himself on the edge of a nearby crate and refusing to take his eyes off of you, as if you’d already earned and lost his trust. “There’s no fucking advantage,” He started, but he wasn’t talking to you. You weren't worth his time, just yet, not while you were still just a stray Kirishima was too much of a saint to turn away. “We’re not a damn food bank. It’s not out responsibility to babysit every dumbass on the verge of death.”

“Don’t listen to him.” At least Kirishima was kind enough to address you as he slipped back into the common room, taking his place at your side and handing you something – a mug, cremated and unchipped and filled to the brim with something watery, steam still rising off the top. Your first sip was hesitant, but you couldn’t stop yourself from draining the cup once you recognized the taste. Coffee. Cheap, bitter, heavenly coffee, the kind you didn’t have enough clean water to risk trying to make. You could’ve kissed him. You might’ve, if the calm levity in his voice hadn’t snapped you out of it. “Katsuki’s just a little defensive, when it comes to guests. We’ve got plenty of supplies to go ‘round, and…” He trailed off, glancing over you. To the bruises circling your wrist, the stained bandages peaking out from underneath your shirt. To the spot where your ankle twisted just a little too far to the left for the angle to be natural, the evidence of a fall you tried and failed to break with something besides your own body. “I don’t think we can kick someone out in good faith with those kinda injuries. Not with all the crawler activity, lately.”

You flinched at the name alone. Crawler, creatures, the things that used to be people and weren’t, not now, not anymore. You used to think of them as zombies, but that wasn’t right. Calling them zombies would be an injustice, even if they did tend to rot if left to their own devices. Zombies weren’t that fast. Zombies weren’t that distorted. You’d encountered three or four, but you tried to avoid attracting them, when you could. It was easier, when you were on your own.

Bakugo groaned, bringing you out of your thoughts. You tried to stop your hands from shaking, as he spoke. “You’ve got a group to run back to, right? Nobody survives that long without one.”

You tried not to sound as small as you felt. Judging from the way Kirishima glanced away, it was a futile effort. “Nobody survives that long with one, either.”

Kirishima’s hand came to rest on your shoulder, and Bakugo crossed his arms, a sign that must’ve meant submission, judging by Kirishima’s optimistic response. “Just until your ankle’s healed up,” He promised, a compromise you hadn’t asked him to make. “You’ll stay until then, right? ‘d be a shame if we had to lose another person because of Katsuki’s bad attitude.”

There was a sharp ‘hey’, a barely stifled laugh, and slowly, you forced yourself to nod, immediately receiving a bright grin from Kirishima by way of reward. It was a practical choice, honestly – they had food, they had shelter, they didn’t seem to be grasping at threads just to get by. Even if Kirishima was a little too friendly and Bakugo wasn’t nearly friendly enough, you could life with that, you could get by. Once you’d worn out your welcome, you’d leave. As soon as you were fixed up.

You didn’t want to wait for things to go bad, this time.

Despite his reluctance, Bakugo didn’t take long to warm up to you.

Kirishima was still the approachable one, obviously. He was who you went to when you needed to find something, when you had a question about their ration system or weaponry or the parts of the bunker you weren’t allowed to go in, rooms with steel doors and deadbolts on the handle and a raw, metallic smell emanating from the other side, but Bakugo always seemed to be lingering just behind him, ready to scoff and roll his eyes before he took you by the wrist and explained that, if you expected to reap the benefits of their hospitality, you had to at least try to pull your weight. He was helpful, like that, his help less patronizing than Kirishima’s, albeit twice as easily frustrated. Still, he didn’t hate you. If anything, he seemed to—

“If you slow down one more time, I’ll feed ya to the damn bears myself.”

You sped up, reflexively. He didn’t hate you, but it wasn’t too late for him to start.

It’d been Kirishima’s idea for you to go hunting. You were still in a splint, the majority of your calf an abstract blend of medical tape and cloth padding, but you bit back the pain as you followed Katsuki down the rough, unpaved trail, gritting your teeth past the ache forming under your skin. It wasn’t a raid. If anything, you were only getting further from the city, working your way up the mountain their bunker was carved into the base of. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been concerned about the crossbow in Katsuki’s hands, the weapon already loaded and poised, but the hunting knife strapped to your thigh eased your nerves, as did his disinterest in doing anything but trudging forward. If he didn’t take the time to call back to you every few minutes, you might’ve thought he’d forgotten you were there entirely.

But, silence never suited you never well. Not with a near-stranger, at least. “You’re not afraid of crawlers?”

“This far out? Fuck no.” It was an immediate answer, quick and shameless. Like an amputation, if an amputation left you nursing a bruised ego rather than bleeding out. “There’s enough fresh meat in the city to keep ‘em occupied. Only the runts ever bother coming out here to look for scraps.”

“I would’ve been that meat,” You mumbled, absent-mindedly. It was an idle thought, more of an admission than an accusation, but judging by the way his posture slackened, how quickly his attention shifted to the foliage, he wouldn’t have cared either way. “If Kirishima hadn’t found me, I mean. God knows I look like an easy target.”

“You are an easy target. Just be glad he’s got a weak spot for charity cases.”

You opened your mouth, ready to ask what he meant, you lost your footing before you got the chance, slipping on the damp leaf litter as a spike of something agonizing ran from your heel to your knee. Bakugo didn’t flinch, letting you catch yourself on his shoulder as he raised his crossbow, barely taking a moment to aim before firing. You could feel the kick-back, a jolting reverberation that only seemed to make the wet thunk that followed a little worse, the sound of an arrow piercing skin and flesh.

You expected that. You were ready for it. But, you hadn’t been prepared for the deafening scream that came afterwards, heart-piercing and human. You moved to rush toward its source, but Bakugo only caught your arm, shaking his head. Like he’d missed, like he’d only killed a deer. Like there wasn’t a person thrashing in the underbrush, still crying out as he spoke over them. “Looters,” He explained, like that was an excuse. “We’ve been dealin’ with them for a while, now. ’s just a scout, but he would’ve been back with reinforcements if we let him run off untouched.”

Bile rose in the back of your throat. For your own sake, you chose to believe him. “So? We can’t just—”

“Yes, we can.” It wasn’t a question. He didn’t need your permission, and he didn’t want your compliance. He didn’t even bother to justify himself before he turned away, starting back on the trail as you stood, still too shocked to move. “C’mon, we’ve already lost enough sunlight, and I’m not wasting arrows on scum. The fucker can drag himself back to his hideout, for all I care.”

You could’ve argued. Bakugo didn’t seem to think the blow was fatal, but you could’ve checked, made sure, offer what might’ve been a dying man a few last seconds of company before he bit the bullet. You could’ve, part of you wanted to, but…

But then, Bakugo tossed a glare over his shoulder, and your attention was brought back to the crossbow in his hands, to the machete strapped to his belt, to how pitifully small your knife was, in comparison. You didn’t want to lose the trust you hadn’t really gained, just yet. You didn’t want to take that kind of chance, not when Kirishima wasn’t around to give you the benefit of the doubt.

So, you shut your eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to ignore the quiet sobbing in the background as you followed in his tracks.

Surprisingly, Kirishima was the first one to slip into your bed.

You told yourself it was a mistake, when he let himself into your room in the middle of the night, closer to sunrise than it was to sunset. None of the doors locked, thin plywood serving as more of a source of comfort than an actual barrier, and beyond your small collection of personal possessions and the bedside table you’d commandeered from storage, your room was identical to any of the eerily unoccupied barracks on the lower layers of the bunker. Still, you expected him to turn around, to see your sleeping form curled up in a corner of your cot and realize he had the wrong room. It was late, and he made a mistake. It didn’t have to be anything more.

But it wasn’t that late, and Kirishima never really made mistakes. He was too careful for anything like that.

At least he was being careful now, too, as far as you could tell with your eyes clenched shut, your breathing restricted to slow, shallow inhales that left your lungs feeling just a little too tight. He was gentle, if nothing else, wrapping a strong arm around your waist, pulling you against his chest and burying his face in the nape of your neck. You didn’t squirm, you didn’t push yourself away, but you must’ve been too stiff, too still, too rigid. He didn’t seem to buy the act, however desperate it was.

“’suki’s real proud of you.” His voice was tired, weighted down by exhaustion. Clearly, he wouldn’t be leaving. “He told me about yesterday. Says you were good, cooperative and all. He likes that kind of thing.”

You didn’t respond, digging your nails into the sterile, medical sheets. Your ankle throbbed, and you tried to focus on that, to justify it. To remember why you could still convince yourself to stay.

“He’s a big softie, though. We both are, but I don’t try to hide it.” There was a light squeeze to your side, the ghost of his lips over the crook of your neck. His breath was warm, compared to the bucker’s constant chill, and you tried to think of his smothering body heat as a small silver lining. “I think it’s sweet. Gets lonely ‘round here, y’know? You’re a good fit.” There was a pause, a chuckle. For a moment, you thought he might push a little further, hold you a tighter, but Kirishima only shook his head, going on with that same careless, tired lilt. “I knew you would be, when I first saw you. A fragile little thing like you could never survive out here, not all alone.”

He was half-asleep. He didn’t know what he was saying. He’d probably apologize tomorrow, if he even remembered. “I’m not going to stay for much longer. I’ll be on my own again, in another month.”

“We’ll see.” The cot’s barred frame creaked as he shifted, his weight coming to rest against your back – a constant, oppressive reminder of his presence. A memory flickered to life in the back of your mind, a familiar intimacy that’d been earned and asked for, but you pushed it away quickly. You didn’t want to think about things like that, not here, not when this was so one-sided, in comparison. “Get some rest. You haven’t been getting enough sleep, lately.”

You’d leave when it was safe to. When you healed. When you’d worn out your welcome and become more of a burden than a benefit.

You wouldn’t stick around long enough for things to get suffocating, this time.

It was a mutual decision, when Bakugo and Kirishima stopped you from leaving the bunker.

They didn’t ask. That was the part that stung, really, the thorn that started working itself under your skin the moment you caught them standing in the threshold, an empty duffle bag slung over Kirishima’s shoulder and a baseball bat tucked under his arm. Bakugo had his crossbow, a pistol you’d never seen before holstered at his hip, but that bothered you less than the way they were muttering, keeping their voices purposefully low. Like they knew how you’d feel, if you saw them. Like they wanted to avoid the tension.

You’d never been very good at picking up hints, though. Much less those you were desperately trying to ignore.

“You’re going out?” You called, approaching them before you could stop yourself, suppressing a yawn as you made a show of rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. It was early, and you didn’t want Kirishima to know you’d already been up for hours. If he thought you were tired, he’d assume you were losing sleep, and if he thought you were losing sleep, he’d take it as an excuse to visit you at night, again. You… you didn’t like it, when he did. “Let me grab my stuff, it’ll only take a minute. If I knew you two were planning a raid today, I would’ve—”

Bakugo was the first to shut you down. “Sit this one out, alright?” It was a question, this time, but barely, his usual bluntness wrapped in a layer of kindness so thin, you could practically see through it. “’s just a quick supply run. We’ll be out and back before you notice we’re gone.”

“We’ve done this a thousand times,” Kirishima added, offering a small smile. At least he was trying to be nice about it, in his own, patronizing way. “It’s starting to get boring, honestly. It‘d be a shame to ruin all the progress you’ve made for something so minor.”

Right, your ankle. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d complained about it, the last time you’d been in enough pain to limp, even if Bakugo still insisted on tending to your ‘injury’ once a day, at least. The truth was glaringly obvious, even if they still made a half-hearted attempt to hide it, to let you avert your eyes and pretend you believed them.

You didn’t bother trying to hide your disappointment, your expression dropping as your nails bit into the meat of your palm. “You don’t think I can keep myself safe.”

In their defense, neither tried to deny it. Bakugo only looked away, and Kirishima smiled apologetically, his hand already pushing against the bunker’s metallic door. “We don’t want to risk it,” He explained, like you were a liability. Like you hadn’t survived out there for months without their help, injured or uninjured. “If something happened to you, if someone got to you, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. We both care about you, even if Katsuki doesn’t want to admit it.”

“It’s practical.” Bakugo didn’t look at you. It was a small mercy, really. At least he was self-aware enough to be ashamed. “You need more time. You fucked yourself up bad before Eijiro found you – all that doesn’t go away overnight.”

Expect, it hadn’t been a night. It hadn’t been a day, or a week, and you were starting to question if it’d even been only two months. It was hard to keep track of time, but the weather was already turning, every scrape and bruise Bakugo could’ve concerned himself with was already healed, and you’d already let yourself get comfortable. You’d stayed too long. You’d let them get attached, and you’d failed to make it clear that you weren’t.

You had to get out. Now.

Or, you could try to get out, at least.

You’d waited too long for Bakugo and Kirishima to just sit back and let you walk away.

They were stronger than you’d assumed. It was easy to forget what the human body was capable of, when you were so used to be exhausted and half-starved, but it wasn’t difficult to remember, not with Bakugo’s hands wrapped around your wrists, one of Kirishima’s arms splayed over your knees, stopping you from thrashing as they shoved you against a bed, a real bed, the frame wooden and the mattress more than just sponge and stuffing. It was one of theirs obviously, and if you’d stumbled onto it at any other time, you might’ve felt insulted, left out.

Right now, the only thing you could feel was terrified.

“Fucking bitch.” It was a grunt, a growl, followed by something close to a snarl as your elbow connected with his check. He was the one who’s caught you gathering up what little you had to take with you, a canteen already filled and strung across your back. It was on the floor, now, the metal dented and the contents spilling out, but if either of them minded wasting clean water, you couldn’t tell. They were busy, now, too busy dealing with you to worry about something so minor. Too angry to care, leaving you as the center of their rage. “We tried to be nice. We tried to give you a choice. You just couldn’t take the fucking hint, could you?”

“Let me go.” You couldn’t bring yourself to raise your voice, but you tried to come across as frantic, desperate, as betrayed and as disgusted as you really felt. “You’re both fucking crazy. I don’t want to—”

Kirishima didn’t let you finish, he’d never really bothered to. He was already shifting, leaning on one of your calves while grabbing at the other, calloused fingertips pressing into your newly-healed ankle, the remaining bruises still raw and tender. You cried out, more out of instinct than agony, but Kirishima only grit his teeth, rubbing circles into your skin, like that would be enough to soothe you. “We’re just taking care of you, alright? We’re just doing what’s best.” It was pointless to say, but the didn’t stop him from going on, rambling like he was going to convince anyone, including himself. “It’s dangerous, out there. You just need a little more time to realize that. You just need to see that ‘suki and I are your best option.”

They weren’t. They weren’t your best anything, but you didn’t have a chance to retort before Bakugo cursed under his breath, gathering your wrists up with one hand and forcing the other over your mouth, cutting you off before you could protest further. “Just do it,” He spat, all-but ignoring you as he spoke to Kirishima. “There’s no point in trying to explain this to someone so irrational. Let’s just get it over with before we have to do something worse.”

For a moment, you went still, a series of worst-case scenarios flashing before your eyes before you could rationalize them, before you could tell yourself to stay calm. For a moment, there was panic – pure, unadulterated, brutal panic.

And then, something cracked under Kirishima’s hand, and you forgot how to think of anything at all.

You let out a stilted, faltering sob, something akin to liquid fire running from your thigh to your calf to the point where everything stopped – everything below your ankle numb, disconnected, dead meat that still managed to hurt. The rest of your body went limp, your survival instincts gone and replaced with the unbearable desire to curl into yourself and cry, but Bakugo was still holding you, his arms strung around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest as Kirishima slotted himself against your back, cooing soft nothings as you fought not to break down completely. They were talking again, both of them, but you couldn’t seem to listen. It didn’t matter.

Your ankle was broken. Not sprained, this time, not bruised, but broken. Shattered. Dislocated. Forced into a position that meant you’d be forced to stay, voluntarily or otherwise. Whether or not you could still stomach looking at Bakugo and Kirishima, let alone living with them.

You couldn’t leave, and you were beginning to think they were never going to let you.

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bcdwhcre · 4 years ago

Text

“Betrayal,” Levi x Reader

Summary: The 3 Titan shifters (aka Annie, Reiner and Bertholdt) had stolen the last Titan serum and you end up getting framed. While you get tortured by the military police to reveal the truth, Levi tries his best to prove your innocence.

Idk if this would end up being a series, it just might bc even tho this was requested, I’m thinking about having a spin where after the reader gets tortured, they have like a life changing moment (kinda like Tokyo ghoul where after Kaneki gets tortured, he turns into an actual ghoul) kinda like that so bear with me🤧

Warnings!: abuse and torture!!!!

It was a normal day, the only day off the scouts had and they all spent it relaxing and talking with each other. You had sat next to your boyfriend, Levi, while having a few drinks when the military police had stormed inside the place.

The sudden harsh grabs of their hands on your body, slamming you down on the hard table was enough to cause pain through your body and you had let out a wince from the impact.

Their actions had made Levi jump up and try to shove them off your body, his anger boiling at the sight of you being put into handcuffs without them barely saying a word.

“Back up, Captain and let us do our job.” The guy ended up punching Levi clean in his jaw and made him stumble back.

“What the hell are you doing?” Armin had shouted, all the scouts ready to fight with the guards as they yanked your small body off the table.

“Y/N is under arrest for stealing the Titan serum and helping the traitors get away.” They spoke coldly, making your eyes widen at their words and Levi had looked surprised.

“That’s not true! I didn’t touch it!” You shouted, trying to resist their attempts of shoving you out the door and you had looked back at Levi.

“It’s not true, you have to believe me!” The last look he had given you was disappointment and that had made your heart shattered as they put you on the carriage.

The ride back to their station was quiet, except their disgusting words that they shot at you to make you feel guilty and even a guard mentioned how beaten you were going to be after they were done with you.

Your heart ached and your body shook from the amount of rage you felt running through your veins. You were sure you already had bruises forming on your skin from the rough pushing and shoving against the table.

Levi had stood in the middle of the room, watching you get taken out the door with the small of blood running down his nose and everyone stayed quiet, looking at the Captain.

He didn’t want to believe it but why would they suspect you? Out of all people? It had made him overthink about it but the look of terror on your face as you looked at him one last time had made him feel deep down in his gut that you were telling the truth.

He was your boyfriend afterall, he knew you pretty well and have been for over a year so he was positive he would know if you were a traitor and if you stole something as big as the Titan serum.

As you were shoved inside the cell, being locked away, you were left to your thoughts and the tears threatened to stream down your face as you tried to think of everything- how did you even end up here? What led you here?

It was a painful topic to think about, to even think about being a suspect, to think about being a traitor. There was no room for you to be a traitor even if you tried.

It had taken hours before the guards came back to bring you into a empty room, tying you to a chair to ‘ask you questions’ but in reality, they put you here to enjoy the torture they’re going to do to you.

“Where is the Titan serum?” One asked, making your sad tear filled eyes to look up at them and before you could even open your mouth, he had swung his fist to strike you across the face.

The rough impact caused blood to spit out of your mouth and onto the wooden floors, coughing it up as you tried to take steady breaths but it was far too difficult.

Levi had finally went up to the station with everyone, trying to reason with the military police and talk to them about the fact that their thoughts on you were completely false.

They had surprisingly let Levi through considering he is a scout but when he got through the area he wasn’t supposed to be in and had seen you in the room, the way you were breathing heavy and the way you face was already beaten to the point where he could barely recognize your face because it was covered it blood- it made him angry.

“Have you even done your actual fucking jobs or have you been beating her this entire fucking time?!” He shouted at them, making you raise your head at the sound of his voice and your heart began to break more if that was even possible.

“We are doing our job, you’re not even supposed to be this far back here. Get his ass out of here.” The mp ordered the guards to drag Levi out and he had looked at you with a pained look, shoving the guards off of him and walking out of the room by himself.

He didn’t want to leave you there but there wasn’t a whole lot he could do except talk to the higher ups and try to prove your innocence to them but that’s a lot harder than it sounds

Throughout the night, the guards didn’t let you sleep one bit. The long hours of them beating you whether it was with a stick, a whip- it didn’t matter. They had even used knives to cut up your skin, they didn’t care- for all they know you were a traitor to them.

The amount of blood that had covered your entire uniform was sick, you could barely even keep your eyes open and handle everything. You stopped crying, you stopped screaming, you were just emotionless.

And inside your head, you had zoned out enough to not think about the pain and think about the harsh beatings they were giving you. It felt like you had changed into a whole completely different person and gave yourself a new mindset from all this torture.

And it took two days.

Two days for Levi to find proof, two days for Levi to run up to the station and slam the proof on their desks along with bringing the scouts for evidence to show them that the people who had stole the Titan serum was no one else but the two Titan shifters, Reiner and Bertholdt.

The way Levi had rushed up to the chair you were still tied in, the rope digging in your skin from how tight it was- leaving dry blood stains from head to toe.

The guards still didn’t feel bad, shit, they still thought you did it but by their boss’ commands- they had to let you go.

Your eyes barely opened when Levi stepped in the room, all you could hear was muffling of voices and a blur of his face come into view.

He wanted to kill them desperately. The way he would enjoy watching his blade slice through their skins like butter but he kept his cool, he kept it together but deep down he wanted to scream at the sight of you. You were awful.

He had scooped you up in his arms, you could barely see his face from the blood but you ended up passing out eventually.

When you had regain consciousness, Levi had barely made it back to the base. All the scouts had looked at you in complete shock and even Armin had shed a few tears while Eren threatened to kill all the MPs.

“Just leave her be for a couple of days guys, she’s in bad shape.” Levi mumbled, he didn’t want to think about it too much- he didn’t want to stare at your bloody state or else it’ll send him off the deep end.

He didn’t know what to do but simply clean you in the bath tub. He had undressed you and sat you in there, making sure to sit you up so you wouldn’t fall. You held onto the edges of the bath, your eyes staring down at the clear water that soon was dark red from your blood.

You remained quiet which worried him, he knew it must’ve been traumatizing but he thought you would at least speak up by now.

“Y/N?” He whispered, running the cloth over your body ever so gently and this is when he got full looks of your wounds.

Deep cuts and slashes on your skin, from your back to your arms and legs. It was painful for him to look at it, he knew you would need stitches for them.

“Will you be okay for a few minutes? I need to go get the first aid.” He stared at you but your eyes stayed on the water, your head tilted down and your eyes barely even blinking.

Levi had sighed, standing up from his spot and left the room to hurry to the infirmary and come back so he can stitch you up himself. While he was gone, your eyes had moved around the bathroom and the bloody cloth he was using to wash you.

Once you had catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you stared at it for what seemed like forever- looking at the cuts that covered your pale body. Soon you started to laugh while tears filled up in your very eyes and even a few slipped down your cheeks as your laugh grew louder.

He had finally walked in the room, looking down at you and had felt a huge weight pin down on his heart. The mixed bloody tears on your cheeks and the laughter coming out of your mouth had him frozen in time until you finally caught his gaze, your laughing coming to a stop and your sobs started leaving your lips.

Levi rushed over, dropping the box and leaned over the tub to hug onto you but not so tight, making sure to watch your wounds. Your sobs had grown so loud that the scouts down the hall heard your crying, the pain escaping your throat was painful to their ears.

“Hey, shhh.” He had tried to comfort you, the guilt he felt had made him want to punch himself for not helping you sooner, it was his fault you were like this.

He stroked your hair back, tilting your head up to look at him fully and he couldn’t help but cry with you. The whimpers that escaped your busted lips had made him want to break down here and now.

“It’s okay, you’re safe.. you’re safe.” He repeated until your breathing had gone back to normal, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

He had resumed what he was doing. He grabbed the needle and thread, slowly starting to stitch you up while you silently cried in the tub, the water growing cold as your body ached. He had stitched you up in so many places that he could barely count, they completely went overboard with torturing you and he felt like it was on purpose.

When he finished cleaning off the dry blood off your naked body, he lifted you up and wrapped a towel around you. He watched the dark red water go down the drain and he cursed under his breath at the mess around the bathroom, blood everywhere.

You were silent again, numb to everything you had felt throughout the last few days, emotionless but felt the need to scream again but your throat was dry and empty and sore.

He was careful to dress you in comfortable clothes, mostly his t-shirt and some sweatpants after he made sure to put bandages over your stitches and cuts. He tugged his blankets back, laying you down and tucking you in.

Once your head had hit the pillow, your eyes shut and he sat at the edge brushing his fingers through your hair, watching you for a while.

“I’ll make sure they pay for this, I promise..” He mumbled, more to himself than to you before he pressed a kiss to your bruised cheek.

“I love you.”

Throughout the night he had slept beside you but made sure to keep his distance, he didn’t want to hurt you in any way and he knew you haven’t slept the whole time you’ve kept by the military police.

As you slept, all you dreamt of was nightmares and to you they felt so real. The way they would hit you, it felt like they actually did and when they had walked up to your bloody corpse, leaning down and even threatening to cut off your fingers.

The way their plyers had gripped onto your fingernails as they ripped it out with no remorse- it all felt too real. Your body would shake, jolt and even whimpers would fall from your lips as you slept. It had taken a while for Levi to even wake up from your movements.

“Y/N.” He tried to be as gentle as possible, placing his hand on your arm and that’s when you jolted awake, sitting up and panting.

He had removed his hand when you shot up, hesitating before he reached out for you again and when you felt his fingertips- you flinched hard, looking over at him like he was a stranger.

“It’s me.” He mumbled, your eyes adjusting to the dark and you looked at his pained expression and that made your breathing start to calm down.

“Sorry.” You whispered, wiping the sweat off your forehead and you looked down at your arms wrapped in bandages, seeing the blood start to leak through.

“Don’t be.. do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” You said coldly, moving to lay back down in bed and had your back facing him as you stared at the wall.

Levi wanted to desperately take your pain away, he wish he could trade spots and take all the damage instead. But as he sat there staring down at you for what seemed like an hour, he was afraid of losing you and afraid that you were slowly slipping away from his grasp.

He thought about comforting you, would that even be a safe option? He thought. You flinched at his slight touches and he didn’t want you to become afraid of him, he loved you more than anything.

He decided to scoot closer to you, carefully kissing the back of your head and rested his hand on a safe part of your upper arm, making you tense underneath his touch.

“Look, I know what you went through was traumatic.. believe me but please don’t push me away, I can’t lose you.” He said softly, making your eyes water instantly from the flashbacks that flooded your head, every slap, kick, punch, everything.

“Levi,”

“I just want you to be able to talk to me, you’re not alone, at all.”

“I know.” You simply said, not knowing what else to really say about the situation. You were beaten senseless, out of pure hatred, it changed you.

You decided to gently turn over to face him, scrunching up your nose at the pain that followed as you moved. Your eyes looked at his, your bruised face had made his heart hurt more than he could explain.

As you two sat there staring at one another, you carefully brought your weak hand up to caress his cheek and rubbed your thumb over his skin slowly.

He leaned his face more into your hand, the most affection he has gotten out of you and even then, you hesitated, you wanted to pull away. You didn’t want to be touched, talked to, you wanted to be left alone but you had to think about Levi’s feelings too and what he did for you.

“Thank you, for everything.” You mumbled, making his eyes instantly move to look at yours with a hint of hope in them.

“No need to thank me.”

“But I want to, for cleaning me up and trying to support me.. can I be honest with you?”

“Of course.”

You sat there for a moment, trying to think of a better way to put everything and you sighed, your lips pressing into a thin line and even that had made the pain shoot through your busted lips.

“I just- I’m not comfortable speaking about the details but what I will say is, I’m not the same.”

“Ive noticed.” He whispered, moving his hand to brush the strands of your hair back from your face and he gave you a weak smile.

“No matter what, Y/N, I’m here.. to love you, to take care of you, all of it. You’re not getting rid of me so easily.” This time you cracked a smile, squishing his cheeks playfully as you leaned over to press a quick kiss to his lips but even that caused you pain in your body.

“I love you, Lev.”

Soooo idk whether to make a part 2

But if I was, I was thinking of the reader going crazy from the traumatic experiences and even going as far as to killing the guards in cold blood— no one knowing who did it except Levi. Blah blah.

Tell me what you think

Also this one is longer and I’m actually glad and proud how it turned out. So this is why I wanna start pacing myself, it turns out better that way❤️ but my requests are ALWAYSSSSS open, just be patient with me. Mwah. Ps, if you read all that, I love you.

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( tag list: @levis-odm-gear )

#levi ackerman fanfic #levi ackerman imagine #levi ackerman imagines #levi ackerman x reader #levi Ackerman #levi ackerman headcanons #levi x reader #levi headcanons #levi angst #levi imagines #levi imagine #levi fanfic #aot fanfic #aot imagines #aot headcanons

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butwhyduh · 4 years ago

Text

Fit to be Tied

Jason Todd x reader

Warning: Christmas? And the f word.

Christmas series 2

Jason didn’t pay much attention to holidays. Nope. That was for the living. He didn’t have much of need for it. But he did know that Christmas was quiet and New Years was busy for patrol. He guessed everyone ate Christmas dinner and and then got bored of playing nice. Or maybe that just wanted to start the new year with a big ass bang. Who knows?

Even when he was a kid, he didn’t celebrate the holidays. Too poor, mom too lost in drugs, and dad? Well fuck him. He was a piece of shit when he was around.

Jason kicked a beer can out of his way into the pile of trash on the sidewalk. They didn’t get the trash again this week it looked like. Daddy Bruce could play bat but couldn’t throw his money around enough to keep trash from piling on the street.

It was fine. He had more important things to do anyways. He had to buy a Christmas present. He didn’t care for the holidays but the sweet girl he had at home was a doll and fuck, if she didn’t deserve something. So Jason went down to the local pawn shop. Usually not a problem but it was 2 AM. Not exactly prime business hours.

So yes, Red Hood was breaking into a pawn shop to get a bracelet. He was leaving cash, $20 over the cost too. It was something you had seen earlier in the week and had admired. Gems of some kind shaped to look like a butterfly. You’d taken a minute longer to stare at it.

He left as quick as he came. And it wasn’t long until he was opening the window of your apartment dressed in street clothes. You were asleep. Jason had used the excuse of patrol to get out. But in the early morning hours of Christmas, he wanted to wake you.

“Princess,” he said gently. You moved a little before opening your eyes. You smiled up at him. Fuck, he didn’t deserve the way you looked at him. Your eyes looked so innocent and sweet. You never looked at him like he scared you.

“Jaybird, what’s going on?”

“I got you something for Christmas and it’s technically Christmas..” he said pulling out the box. You sat up, curious.

“It’s Christmas Eve. You got me something? I didn’t think we were- I didn’t get anything. I couldn’t-“ you said turning red. Money was too tight to consider it. The fact that the heat was still on this late in the month was a Christmas miracle.

“No no. It’s fine. Just being here is enough for me. I’ve never really celebrated Christmas anyways,” Jason said pushing the box in your hand. You held the box before kissing him.

You opened the box to see the bracelet you had been looking at the pawn shop. You smiled and stared at the pretty little butterfly. Jason watched you carefully for a reaction. He’d never admit it but he was more nervous now than fighting on the street.

“You saw me looking at it. I didn’t think you’d notice,” you murmured softly as you picked it up. Jason took it and wrapped it around your wrist. He clasped it on and you looked at it, moving your wrist in the light.

“Thank you. It’s beautiful,” you said quietly looking at it. You had a little grin on your face. Jason smiled. That’s the look he wanted. That little bit of happiness that you showed when you were really pleased. He intertwined his fingers in yours.

“Princess, you’re so cold,” Jason said with a frown. He could feel it colder outside but now that he was getting used to the temperature, it wasn’t warm as it should be.

“The heater was acting up again so I turned it down. The blankets are plenty warm,” you said and his heart all but broke. There was no way he was going to let you be cold all winter because the landlord wouldn’t fix things. He might pay this guy a visit. You sensed his anger.

“It’s okay, Jay. Come lay with me and get warm,” you said taking his hands. He let you pull him into bed. He kicked off his pants and shoes and laid on his side. You curled into him as a little spoon. His long big frame all but engulfed you. It always felt to protective. If he was holding you, he knew you were safe. Jason ran his fingers along your bracelet soft as his rough fingers could.

“You’re so good to me,” you said softly and his heart clenched again. Fuck, if you knew all the bad he did. His messed up past. He thought you would have run away when you first learned he was Red Hood but no, you had been kind.

“Naw, Princess you deserve more then this shitty place,” he said, and for the first time, he felt a little bad about giving all of his trust fund to the soup kitchen he would visit as a kid. A little would have been nice to get a better place for you. But he had been making a ton crushing the drug trade at the time and didn’t have a girl back home when he did it. He couldn’t be as reckless now.

You turned in his arms to look in his blue eyes. He has such an intense look on his face that you frowned. “Jaybird, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said pulling his face back to normal. “Just thinking. I wanna move you to a better place, a safer place than this,” he said running his thumb across your cheeks. You grasped his wrist and leaned into his touch. Jason would sometimes get like that. Thinking you deserved better. And you humored him even though you wouldn’t even know what to do with wealth.

“We’re moving. Soon. I’m promising now,” he said thinking about the painful conversation he was going to have with Bruce. His adoptive father he hadn’t even told you about. Bruce would do just about anything Jason asked. Probably the guilt of letting him die.

“But Jay, we’d miss the water that went from boiling to freezing at random. And I’m not sure if I can sleep without Mr and Mrs Jancowski having sex every Tuesday at 2 AM,” you said with a smile. He kissed you to shut you up. You were joking but each one felt like a little knife in his guilt. You pulled him over you and the thought of money troubles faded from your mind.

———————————————

Jason woke before you and watched you sleep. You laid on his chest with your hand in his hair and your soft breath on his throat. The bracelet was still on your wrist. You looked so peaceful, trusted him while you slept. Jason carefully grabbed his phone and texted Alfred. He’d also have to tell you about his adoptive family. His very famous adoptive family.

He threaded his fingers in your hand that was flung across his waist. You began to stir. Jason moved hair from your face and you blinked to see his pale blue eyes watching you.

“Morning, Princess,” he said with a rough morning voice. You smiled.

“Morning, Jaybird.”

“I’ve got something to tell you,” he started. “I want you to meet my family tonight.”

“Tonight? Your family? I thought your parents...” you trailed off.

“I was adopted. I never told you because I don’t have the best relationship with them. But I think it’s time for you to meet them. I’ve got to tell you something else,” he said and you could hear his heart beat quicker as you laid on him.

“My adoptive father is Bruce Wayne.”

Silence.

“You’re shitting me.”

“Nope. And tonight I’m taking you to meet him. And my adoptive siblings.”

“You aren’t joking,” you said sitting up. Jason sat up too.

“I’m not. I’m kinda the... black sheep of the family. He adopted me when I was 12. I was trying to boost the wheels from the b- Bentley he was driving,” Jason corrected. It was one thing to tell you he was Red Hood. He couldn’t say Bruce Wayne was Batman.

“Wow. I- wow. Okay. That’s a lot to take in. Also on brand to be honest,” you said and he smiled and shrugged.

“Wait. What the fuck do you wear to the freaking Wayne manor for Christmas Eve?” You said a little panicky.

“Whatever you want. It’s just family,” he said with a sideways smile.

“Oh no. I can’t go to freaking Wayne Manor in a Kmart sweater,” you said quickly.

“You can wear,” he said hopping out of bed. He dug way in the back of his closet for a pretty red sweater that was slightly oversized. “This. Should fit fine. Pretty expensive too.”

“Where the hell did you get that?”

“I’ve had it for year and it definitely doesn’t fit now,” Jason said with a laugh. “Try it on.”

—————————————

The weather sucked. Freaking sleet that threatened everything it touched. You were grateful it wasn’t a night of Jason patrolling. This meant taking your car instead of Jason’s motorcycle. Your car was at least 15 years old and you called it Frankenstein because of all the repairs done over the years.

The radio skipped as Jason drove over a speed bump by Wayne Manor and you burst out laughing. Jason looked at you from the side.

“It’s not that funny,” he said. “What’s up?”

“My car is trash, I’m wearing your old sweater, and we’re late. If you weren’t the black sheep before, bringing me home, you will be now,” you said. He grabbed your hand and parked in front of a random house.

“I’ve been the black sheep since I was a kid and you aren’t going to change any thing for the worse. Trust me. In fact they’ll probably think you’re too good for me,” Jason said with a dry chuckle. “So don’t worry about anything. Except making room for pudding. I know it sounds weird,” he said starting to drive again. “But it’s the best part of Christmas.”

Wayne Manor was huge. You knew that. You’d even seen it on tv. But to see it in front of you was honestly terrifying, especially in the nasty weather. You almost hoped Jason was playing some weird elaborate joke and was going to drive on by but he knew the passcode to the gate. He drove in the covered drop off spot by the front door and parked. You both quickly ran in the building.

The front entry was breathtaking. A gigantic Christmas tree and a full staircase decked out in garland like a Hallmark movie. It was like a magazine. In fact, it was in the Christmas episode of Gotham Life the year before.

You gripped Jason’s hand tightly as you walked down the hall. Your shoes sounded unnaturally loud and you had the urge to quiet them like it was a library. Jason pulled you to the doorway of a dinning room full of people settling to eat. Jadon cleared his throat.

“Master Jason! You made it,” Alfred said excitedly. “I recieved your message but it’s been many years. Sit. Sit.”

“Glad you could come,” Jason’s brother Dick said with a grin. He looked at you in curious excitement. You looked down at some kind of mushroom soup placed in front of you. Everyone else was dressed so nicely and ate so perfectly. It was intimidating.

“Yeah, it’s Christmas,” Jason said shrugging. He gave Dick a look that said don’t ask. It didn’t take much for Dick to drop it because he seemed incredibly distracted. You spent most of the meal trying to keep up on conversations you clearly didn’t understand while trying food you’ve never seen before. You could barely remember everyone you were introduced to. One of Jason’s sister(s?) gave you a big hug along with everyone else when she arrived. You couldn’t tell anyone what was even said after the meal. Or so you thought.

Until right across from you, Dick proposes to his girlfriend. He stuttered around before finally asking. “Will you marry me? Oh god, I have a ring,” he said producing one. Everyone watched as she stared in the box.

“Will I marry you?” She asked faintly and you worried she’d say no. How terrible would it be??

“Please say something,” he pleaded and you could tell the man was practically in pain before she said yes. They kissed, the family applauded, and champagne was served.

Jason watched you from the corner of his eyes. How did you react to this? What did you think? You didn’t look jealous or anything. It made Jason think of marriage. He hadn’t before. He’d thought about moving into something more permanent but marriage. He’d never thought about marriage as his future, ever. Of course when you die at 16 and come back with a vengeance, love is low on the priority list.

“Jaybird, you there,” you asked slightly tapping his shoulder. He blinked and looked at you.

“Yeah, I’m here. Just in my head,” he said and you nodded. He’d do that sometimes.

“The party is moving to the parlor,” you said quietly in a proper rich Gothamite voice and Jason huffed before covering his smiling mouth with a nose rub. The rest of the group was moving ahead of you. Dick and his new fiancé were retiring for the night.

“I’m never going to hear the end of it, am I?”

“I’m so sorry, dearest. I can’t understand you with a silver spoon in your mouth,” you laughed. Jason rolled his eyes before guiding your shoulders towards the door. You heard a soft laugh behind you and you turned to see Tim’s girlfriend smiling.

“Sorry to interrupt but I’ve got to use that on Tim,” she said grabbing her coat and walking out.

After making sure you were cool with hanging with Tim’s girlfriend and their adoptive sister Cass, Jason and Tim started a very competitive game of pool. You couldn’t help but look at things that cost more than you’ve ever even seen. The chess set Damian and his girlfriend were playing with probably cost more than your car.

But it was Christmas and you tried to push your insecurities aside. It was a fun evening. A glass of wine you kept sipping on helped as well.

After a while Bruce announced that the roads were too bad and that no one was leaving. Jason clenched his jaw for a second before looking at you and relaxing. He didn’t want to stay but he wasn’t risking your health in any way. Instead he focused on the game.

“So if I win,” Jason said a full hour later. By this time, Damian’s girlfriend had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Your eyes felt a little heavy as well. “I get the penthouse.”

“Sure Jay. That’s Bruce’s. But I’m willing to gamble it,” Tim said throwing his hands up at the ridiculousness.

“I accept terms,” Bruce said. Both boys looked at him surprised. “Whoever wins gets the penthouse.”

You turned quickly to watch the game. Okay, is that a normal thing for them? To bet property. The look on everyone’s face said that no it wasn’t normal.

Jason was excellent at pool. It was a common for you both to go down to the pool hall and play some games. Jason would occasionally make some money playing and he did often as a kid. It was also a way to waste time when your mom was throwing beers back like a fish, like Jason’s mother did. Tim didn’t stand a chance. He wasn’t as good and looked almost like he was in pain occasionally. But maybe it wasn’t a real competition? Maybe Bruce was trying to give Jason something he’d always want to but didn’t know how. Jason easily won the game.

“So the penthouse is mine?” Jason asked. Bruce nodded and shrugged. Tim softly coughed in his hand. Your heart raced. They couldn’t be serious.

“If you’ll live in it,” Bruce said. Damian was carefully carrying his girlfriend upstairs.

“Deal,” Jason says quickly.

“Deal,” Bruce said looking quiet pleased. Was this his plan all along?

“I guess, deal?” Tim said confused. “Though you should owe me. You’re the one that got me shot.”

Your brain broke. He was shot? And it was Jason’s fault?

“What?! You got him shot?” Tim’s girlfriend asked loudly. Tim blanched.

“Not my fault.”

“Literally your fault,” Tim countered.

“What did you do?” You asked looking at him suspiciously. He offered you a sheepish smile.

“I might have said ‘what are you gonna do, shoot us?’ I meant me. Not Tim! He also has a bulletproof suit,” Jason said. Tim must be a vigilante too. You glared at Jason.

“That’s not in the report,” Bruce said with his eyes narrowing.

“Good night everybody. Merry Christmas,” Jason said pulling you from the room and up to his childhood room.

“You’re in so much trouble,” you said and he grinned.

“I’ll deal with it tomorrow. How do you feel about a penthouse? Better than our current place hu?” Jason said pulling you close. You felt dizzy at the idea.

“Seriously? We can’t afford it,” you said trying to stay grounded. It was too good to be true. Things like that didn’t happen to people like you.

“I think I know a guy who can keep the lights on,” he joked and you gave him a serious look. “Don’t worry about it. Just enjoy the idea of constant hot water. Lights never going off,” Jason said pushing you towards the bed. “No one can hear me make you scream.”

“Tempting. Very tempting,” you said and of fucking course it was. A safe beautiful clean penthouse over your trashy scary apartment wasn’t even a contest. Jason pushed you on the bed and hovered over you.

“What are you doing,” you asked flushed but still encouraging him. It was still his dad’s house and he was getting handsy.

“Trying to have sex with my girlfriend on my old bed like every guy ever has dreamed of,” Jason said. He nipped at your throat. You gasped.

“Got to be quiet, Princess,” he whispered and you pulled him down to kiss more.

————————————

The next morning you woke to an empty bed. You fixed your hair as best you could and threw on Jason’s sweatshirt before going downstairs. You caught a glimpse of the kitchen as Bruce slowly slid a set of keys Jason’s way before taking a long drink from his coffee. “I’m glad you made home for Christmas this year, Jason.” The penthouse.

“Morning,” Bruce said to you nodding before leaving the room. Jason was alone in the kitchen but you could hear others in the breakfast nook a door over.

“Keys,” Jason said showing you. “And no lecture.”

You gave him a hug and looked at the shiny metal keys. It would be a while before you could handle the idea of a freaking penthouse being yours. “But you should get something for Tim. You did get him shot.”

“Let him shoot me?”

“Jason, no.”

#fns #Jason Todd x reader #Jason Todd #red hood #red hood x reader #Jason todd fluff #christmas series

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90stvshowgoth · 4 years ago

Text

—THE BET

summary: you thought that as a member of the phantom troupe you were supposed to be smarter than this, yet here you were betting against hisoka. everyone knew that hisoka was a master at poker, cards were his weapon after all, but you couldn’t resist wagering one more bet on a drinking game.

w/c: 4587

tags: dubcon, drunk sex, creampie, blood kink, hate sex, begging, brat taming

a/n: this originally started as a chrollo oneshot, you can kinda tell from how the opening paragraph is about him, but once i started writing the poker game i was like “okay no i gotta make this its own thing,” and because of that decision we now have loose ends getting ch.3 rn :) also no, i couldn’t help but kinda reference phantom of the opera cause it slaps and nobody can tell me otherwise. also, no, before anyone asks, this is a oneshot. it aint getting a sequel.

big thanks to the lovely miss @sealedrosewater for beta reading this clownfucking nightmare.

The heist had gone off without a hitch, Chrollo’s plan worked like a charm and before the night was out you had all flawlessly extracted each and every one of the gilded texts being held in the museum. You still remembered the childlike gleam in your boss’ eyes as he ran his fingers over the aged leather, its binding parchment laced with gold. The faintest ghost of a smile fled from his pallid lips as he admired his new conquest. It made your chest swell with pride, happy to help the man you respected so much. Besides, your cut was nothing to sneeze at.

Your rendezvous was inside a long-abandoned opera theatre where dust clung to the red velvet of the seats and the chandelier was seemingly hanging by a thread; your boss always had a flair for the dramatics. Once all members of the spider had finished reconvening at the empty theatre to gather their spoils it wasn’t long before someone, probably Uvogin, brought out the drinks. Nobunaga had already begun nursing a rum and coke, all while Feitan kept turning down Shal’s insistence to “Just try some, Fei,” Even Shizuku cracked open one of the ice-cold bottles, knocking back an impressive swig. As soon as you saw Machi pulling out a deck of cards you knew you had to stay for the after party.

Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said of your leader. He’d gone to his room with the book you recovered tucked under his arm. A few other members who couldn’t be bothered took after your leader and went off to whichever side room they’d stashed a futon in the week prior; the Phantom Troupe’s equivalent of picking out a bedroom. A shame, really. You’d seen Feitan drunk once before and it was truly a sight to behold.

You sat crosslegged on the wooden floor, watching your comrades slowly get comfortable for a night of fun. Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat above you, looking up to see Pakunoda with a soft smile on her face and an opened beer in her outstretched hand.

“Paku, have I ever told you how much I love you?” You couldn’t help but shower the woman with praise. She had been the one who recommended you to Chrollo after all, and she served as your mentor for your first few months until you found your feet.

She scoffed at the compliment, “Far too much,”

Sticking your tongue out playfully at the mindreader, you took a deep sip of beer, enjoying the familiar taste. Paku sat down beside you and it wasn’t long before the two of you were drinking shoulder to shoulder.

“Machi! Deal us in,” You raised your drink to the transmuter and she flicked two cards towards you both.

Scooting away from Paku, you quickly scanned the cards you’d received before pressing them face down. A queen and an ace. Not great, but not awful either.

The others had formed a haphazard circle, each glancing at their cards with an unreadable poker face. Well, all except Hisoka, who seemed pleased as punch with whatever hand he’d been dealt. Silently, Nobunaga took out two coins and threw them into the center— the Troupe’s house rules counting it to be equivalent to 2 billion jenny.

“Call,” you answered, matching the swordsman’s bet with an unreadable expression on your face.

“Oh? Well then, I’ll raise you,” Hisoka purred, pushing five extra chips into the pot without breaking his gaze from yours.

‘What was he planning?’ That smug look of his just made you want to win that much more. The same seemed to be true of everyone else, each calling the clown’s bet in a row. After all, to a member of the Phantom Troupe, five billion jenny wasn’t that much of a loss.

When Machi turned up the first three cards your heart skipped a beat. Two queens and a seven. Winning a round of poker against some of the smartest criminals the world had ever known was an uphill battle, seeing as how you’d been a member for years without winning a single game.

‘Three of a kind already... what should I do?’ Your face was as stone-cold as before, even with the excitement bubbling in your gut. As nonchalantly as you could, you raised another two billion. At that, Uvo and Shizuku both folded, the enhancer grumbling with a disappointed frown.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I haven’t got enough coins~” Hisoka slapped down a twenty, and a chorus of annoyed groans broke out like a choir, the abandoned theatre’s acoustics amusingly echoed the loud noises of displeasure.

After that little stunt only three others remained: Pakunoda, who’s facade hadn’t cracked all game, Nobunaga, who was glaring daggers at Hisoka, and the aforementioned magician holding up his cards in front of him like a child playing for the first time.

All three of you matched his bet, but none were happy about it. As Machi flipped over the fourth card you found yourself holding your breath. Not because you particularly cared about the money at stake, but because you felt closer to a victory than you had in months. The caricature of a medieval jester being illuminated under the light made you dig your nails into the palm of your hand.

Joker. That meant you had four queens.

It never felt harder to fight a smile off your face than in that moment. Without betraying your excitement, you called, and to your surprise so did Hisoka. Was he bluffing? Or did he have something else in mind? Nobunaga took a deep breath, knocking back the rest of his drink before calling alongside Pakunoda.

All eyes were on the card beneath Machi’s fingertips, the seconds it took to turn the paper on its head filled the theatre with a suspense liable to bring its fragile walls to the ground.

An eight of hearts. Oh well, no big deal.

Nobunaga muttered a curse under his breath, revealing a simple jack and ten of the same suit. Pakunoda was unreadable when she showed the pair of kings she held in her hands. She must’ve thought that the three of a kind would’ve won her the game. The smile on your face felt sweeter after holding it in the whole round, and Nobunaga rolled his eyes when he saw your hand, pushing the pot towards you.

“Well, look at that~” Your victory was interrupted by Hisoka’s insufferable tone, the cards he held up making your jaw drop.

A nine and a jack of hearts. A straight flush.

“That’s bullshit!” You cried, enraged over the loss. It wasn’t even that you cared so much about losing, It only mattered because you lost to him. In an instant you had summoned your nen into the palms of your hands, ready to lunge at the clown when Pakunoda grasped your shoulders, holding you back. Sometimes you forgot how much brute strength was hidden under that pantsuit.

“Just flip a coin, don’t give him what he wants.” Your first reaction was to ignore her, squirming against her iron grip to try and get to Hisoka, who was dramatically scooping all your winnings into his arms.

Uvogin tossed yet another empty beer can over his head, “C’mon Paku, I say let ‘em fight,”

“I concur~” The magician chirped, dramatically stacking each and every coin he’d won while boring his yellow eyes right into yours. His tongue parted his lips, a manic excitement hiding behind the coy expression.

Although every muscle in your body screamed at you to rip into him, you knew you wouldn’t win. He knew your abilities and you couldn’t say for certain you knew all of his.

“Never-mind,” You spat the words out at him like they tasted sour, “You’d probably get off on it anyways.”

A few laughs from the peanut gallery followed your words and Hisoka shrugged, the intense bloodlust from a few seconds ago vanishing as if he’d changed his mind about fighting you on a whim. “You may be right, darling,” your face scrunched up at the nickname you knew he only used to get on your nerves, which it did. “but what if we played a different game?”

Despite how badly you just wanted to ignore him and laugh the night away with all but one of your comrades, you couldn’t turn down the idea of a rematch. Your pride wasn’t nothing to you. “What kind of game?” You asked hesitantly.

He hummed, standing up from the towers of coin he’d made, sauntering over to the cooler of drinks Franklin had provided. After digging around the cold box he pulled out a bottle of fruity tequila and two empty shot glasses.

Your eyes narrowed at the “innocent” smile on his face, looking over to Pakunoda for reassurance.

“You’ll kill him if he spikes my drink, right?” You asked your mentor, who nodded resolutely.

Paku was staring at Hisoka like she was already thinking of ten different ways how to kill him. After sizing him up she flashed you a reassuring nod, “Without question.”

Resolute in your decision, you marched forward, snatching one of the shot glasses from his hand. The stage lights shone above him, making his eyes gleam like the plastic gloss of a doll.

“Shall we begin, then?”

You raised an eyebrow, “What are the rules first?”

He waved his hand in the air, brushing it off, “Nothing too complex, I assure you. The first one who taps out will lose. The loser will do something for the winner. That’s all.”

You still weren’t convinced it could be that simple. “What’s the catch?”

That smirk from before returned to his painted face and he suddenly leaned forward, feeling far too close for comfort. Still, you didn’t step away, your face expressionless as he whispered into your ear. If you did you felt like he’d somehow win whatever stand-still the two of you had on.

“If I lose, I’ll leave the Phantom Troupe,” You reeled away, stunned at his declaration.

Being accepted into the Troupe was the best moment of your life, it always would be. When you looked into the mirror at the tattoo that curled under your ribcage you felt such a warm swell of pride. You couldn’t imagine throwing it all away over some drinking game.

“And...” You blinked rapidly, trying to collect yourself, “If I lose?”

The laugh that echoed from his chest was far from reassuring.

The evening slowly ran into the early morning, each of the other Troupe members wandering off eventually in varying stages of drunkenness. Even Pakunoda headed off to bed after confirming that Hisoka hadn’t spiked your drinks with anything other than a strawberry vodka base. It was unnerving at first, to be completely alone with Omokage’s replacement. Luckily his tastes ran strong, and your vision was spinning before your knew it.

“Match.” Another shot went down your throats, the taste disgustingly sweet, and you watched as his Adam’s apple tensed from the burn.

You’d long since stopped counting how many drinks you’d had, losing track once you got to the double digits. You were both using nen to reinforce yourselves, obviously, but it wasn’t infallible.

‘How is he so good at this?’ You wondered, because as the bottle ran low you started to question just what had made you so confident as to enter a bet with Hisoka in the first place.

“My dear, why not rest for a minute? At least try to enjoy each others company?” His legs were crossed, resting his hand on his palm as he not-so-subtly checked you out. It wasn’t uncommon, and certainly not unexpected from someone like him, but what you hated wasn’t just the nerve of him, but how it made you feel. His scrutiny sent chills down your spine, the unnerving edge to his tone only making you shift your thighs together to relieve some of the pressure.

“You’re the worst, Hisoka,” you knocked back two consecutive shots, unable to hide the wince it caused on your face. Good, you wanted it to sting. Anything to take your mind off the magician in front of you.

He pouted as he poured another row of drinks, “Aw, now why’s that?”

You answered his question with another, pointing towards the half-empty bottle of liquor, “Whats in this, really?”

The magician rolled his eyes, “I did pick an unopened bottle for a reason, dear, I do so want you to trust me.”

Without much fanfare he threw back four shots, over your stunned reaction.

“Just give up already, Darling~ I promise to make it worth your while,” You were reaching your limit for sure, but you were far to stubborn to give up without a fight.

“Fuck you,” you took the first of your next four shots slowly, not managing his fast pace.

He grinned a cheshire smile, “Oh, say that again, will you?”

If he were to call you out on the blush slowly spreading across your nose you’d just blame the alcohol, but the truth was that his words just egged you on even more to the point where you were almost—barely even considering...

“What do you mean, make it worth my while?”

He leaned forward like a cat, agile and silent, whispering his words against your temple, “I’ll tell you how I won that hand,” He got you, hook, line, and sinker.

“You’ll tell me how you cheated?”

Hisoka nodded, a clawed hand coming to stroke a stray piece of hair behind your ear, the action far too intimate for someone like him.

There was no way you’d win against him in this match, that much was clear from the very sober way Hisoka held himself against you, inhumanly still, so what did you have to lose?

‘Your dignity,’ A part of you answered back, but it wasn’t all that convincing. You’d left your dignity behind four shots ago.

“If I lose...”

“If you lose,” He mouthed the words into your cheek, his eyes closed in thought, “You do know what I’ve decided my prize shall be, right?” Of course you knew what he wanted. You weren’t stupid, and the way he nuzzled himself into your neck was far from subtle.

Were you actually so desperate to learn how you lost that you’d sleep with him?

No, you weren’t. But the ache between your legs was getting harder to ignore, and the idea that you could write off what you were about to do behind the excuse of gathering intel sounded like a win-win.

You dug your hands into his hair, not trying to be anything but rough, basking in the moan that spilled from his lips, breath hot against your neck before you yanked him back to meet your gaze.

“Fine. You win, Hisoka,” He smirked, and although he was on his knees he still towered over you, “so how did you cheat?”

Before you could blink his hand had wrapped around your throat, the magician slamming your head into the wood of the stage. You’d had plenty of time to block the damage with your hatsu but the action left your brain rattling inside your skull.

“I’ll tell you later,” He promised, the disorienting blur was slow to fade from the alcohol, and distantly you could feel his other hand stroke your face, his nails like filed daggers trailing over your cheekbones.

“What to do with my prize, then, hm?” He mused, tilting your head from left to right as if examining a block of wood he was about to carve. You coughed on impulse when he let go of your neck, guiding it up instead and taking both your small hands into his palm with an iron grip.

With a flick of his wrist he drew a card, the eight of hearts, seemingly out of nowhere, his nen sharpening it into a thin blade, “Don’t move,”

“Wait... Hisoka, don’t—!” You were far too late to stop him, the frigid air of the ghostly theatre rushing to meet the bare skin of your chest.

Your shirt fell to ribbons along with your bra and you thrashed desperately in his grasp, angry over the loss of your favorite top. He paid your escape attempt no mind, enraptured with the way your tits rose and fell with the timing of your breath and the way you tried to wriggle yourself free.

Still holding your hands to the floor above you, his head bent to wrap a skilled tongue around your tits, a soft sigh involuntarily falling away from you.

“I fuckin’ ha-ate you, Hisoka—ah,” His teeth bit down on your peak at the comment, peering up at you from under his fiery hair.

“Oh? Then why is it you’re moaning like a little whore?” He shifted his weight above you and you saw an opportunity.

You kicked with all your strength between his legs, pulling your knee back and shoving him off with a dig of your shoe into his stomach, “I’m not, don’t call me that shit!”

He actually loosened his grip on you clearly not intending for you to get free from his grasp, a choked sound of what you thought was pain devolving to something much more heated as he stared into you.

“You... are well worth the wait, my dear,” His bloodlust seeped out from every pore, grounding you to the spot. You could usually hold your own against someone like him but it wasn’t hard to see the disadvantage you were at.

Within a fraction of a second he was on you, twisting your waist in his clawed grasp until your ass was hiked into the air, a sharpened playing card slicing through the denim until he could rip it from your legs, yelp echoing like music in the long-silent theatre.

“I knew you’d have some fight left in you,” He crawled forward and you started to realize why he wore exclusively baggy pants, his length hot against you through the fabric as his hips caged you in. As he began to remove that street-performer getup he always wore he’d occasionally curl his hand around your waist to mercifully tug on your ignored clit, your groans muffled and cursed, “I love it. That resilience? It just turns me on.”

You could feel your confidence fade as he tugged those sweatpants down, the weight of him grinding into your ass made all your bravado vanish.

“It will make it so much more satisfying...” He pointed his finger upwards, and suddenly your hands became magnetized to each other, no amount of struggle even budging the rubbery nen substance. “...when I break you.”

Without warning he slid himself inside you, hands holding your hips still as he forced your back into an arch. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to, the flailing of your bound arms useless as he shallowly began pumping his cock deeper inside you.

Your muffled curses whispered into the floor made him laugh, pulling his hand back and cruelly slapping the vulnerable flesh of your ass without a warning.

“Wh.. Why?”

“Because, darling, I want to hear you beg for me.” He pouted, teasing your clenched walls with only the tip of his slick head.

Despite the desire coursing through your veins you still had your pride in tact, “Never gonna happen, asshole.”

Gripping your hips, he dug himself into your dripping cunt as far as he could, both of you unrestrained with a moan at the feeling of his cock brushing near your cervix, your hips traitorously snapping back to meet his eager thrusts, movement near impossible as Hisoka forced you into the ground.

You cried out softly with each quick pull and stretch, only able to say his name one syllable at a time,

“Hi-so—kah...” It was hard to turn your head to the side from his brutal pace but somehow you manage, craning yourself in order to see him; His head was thrown back with a sheer bliss softening his glistening skin, his eyes closed and lips parted. The sight made your keening grow louder, the simple image of him losing himself in your twitching pussy sending a wave of slick dripping around his length.

He must’ve felt your gaze on him because soon enough his was staring at you, his pupils blown wide with desire in a way that made them look like a sun eclipsed, black outlined with a ring of fiery gold.

All at once his hips froze, digging his cock so far as to leave an indent in your pelvis. For a confused second you thought he’d finished, but his gaze was cruel and focused, his lips in a smirk, and you felt no more full than you had a moment ago. He was doing this on purpose.

“Wait, no-nono, wh..y?” You hiccuped, taking his break as a moment to wipe unshed tears from your glossy eyes.

He sighed, “I don’t like repeating myself, darling,” He accentuated the infuriating nickname with a slap to your thigh, face unchanged as he trailed his sharpened fingertips along the reddening skin.

“His..oh.. fuck, Hisoka—“ The banished tears returned, falling silently down your pink face as you whispered, “please,”

“Hmm? Sorry, I couldn’t hear you, my dear, mind saying that again?

Your voice hiccuped as you spoke, “Please, alright? Please,” You thought it’d be enough, that he might finally go back to toying with your clit while he fucked you into the old floorboards, but you’d underestimated the magician’s self-control.

Innocently, he tilted his head, “Please what, dear? Please hit you again?” Hisoka didn’t blink as he slowly brought up his palm, giving you plenty of time to try and wiggle free from your punishment just to show off how futile escape really was, lashing his hand down on the same patch of skin as before, grinning at the shriek he yanked from your lungs.

“No! No, fu-uck.. just—“ You whimpered, brain seemingly disconnected from your mouth as you struggled to form the words, “just fuck me, Hisoka, please.”

“Look at you, huh? You were a slut after all,” He purred, letting the weight of your words hang lifeless in the air along with your stubborn pride. Before you could argue again his hand had returned to your clit, pace unforgiving as he pulled your nerves ever closer to snapping only to halt the second he grew bored, “Say it,”

Mindlessly, you nodded your head, “I’m yours, I’m your slut, Hisoka,” you intentionally clenched yourself around him, mumbling lucid pleas for more as his hard cock twitched, pre cum dripping from your heat onto the floor as your conscience trying to deny what your body so willingly accepted, “want you to fuck me, Hisoka, fu-ck,” you whined, the still presence inside your sensitive walls drove you insane.

With each word a truly unhinged aura began to surround him, and by extension, you, the intoxicating menace dripping over you like a drug as you faced forward once again, wiggling your ass as best you could in his grip.

That was his breaking point, ripping you away from his cock only to drive himself back in, digging the full blade of his nails into your hips, blood pooling around the crescent cuts.

“Fuck, ah.. Darling, ‘doing so good, so good’fr me-ah,” He slurred his words together, more drunk on you than the vodka as he leaned back, forcing you to meet him as his thrusts became so quick that it was getting hard to breathe, your ribcage creaking with discomfort as you were nailed into the stage.

“M..o-re, more...” You begged, and he was happy to oblige. the smearing crimson of blood running hot down your thighs, the pain only making you more pliant in his sculptor’s hands as he folded your body however he liked, ignoring your pained weep from the stretch as he slung one of your bleeding legs over his shoulder.

It was almost weird to hear him say your actual name, so often he used a pet name to mock or flirt with you, sometimes both, “So good for me like this, taking me so goo-uh,” He choked on his words as your cunt tightened around him, your hands clinging for balance in his hair, and Hisoka clearly didn’t mind if the slew of moans from his lips was any indication.

The angle his hips cut into had the edges of your vision turning into a vignette, “I’m close, so close, gonna cum inside you, yeah? Right here,” The hand that had been toying with your clit changed angles, his fingertips spinning spirals onto your aching bud while the flat of his hand pushed against your stomach, your shout swallowed by his pretty lips, tongue toying with yours.

“Ye-es cum inn-side me,” You were too far gone to care, anything he said sounded good as long as he said it in that sultry purr, arms numb as they lay suspended above your head.

“Take it, take it, Darling,” With what little strength you had left you curved your calf beside his neck, pulling him in until his cock brushed your cervix, the pain indistinguishable from the pleasure, “Uhn, cumm-fuck, i’m cumming—“

His cum was thick, the curve of his cock jutting inside you as he filled you up, mercifully swallowing your hallowed scream as he kissed you deeply, almost all feeling in your raised leg lost until he lowered it to his waist, involuntarily snapping his hips up although they had nowhere left to go until your moan turned into a broken sob of lingering bliss.

“Shh, dear, I’ve got you,” With a whirl of his wrist your arms were free of his bungee gum, shakily pulling them to your sides again as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along your neck, whispering a slurred mess of sweet words, stopping to suck a particularly deep hickey into the vein of your flesh.

“Hisoka, quit it!” Your fight had returned along with feeling to your fingertips as you wrenched him back by the hair, his cock jumping.a bit inside you at the grip, “I’ll have to wear sweaters for weeks now, you jerk.”

The capillaries had already begun to burst as he laughed, reaching up behind your head to pull his discarded top forward, digging out what looked like a piece of smooth cleaning cloth from its pocket and lying it over your neck with a simple point of his finger, gyo revealing the pink gum of his aura that controlled it before he smoothed the fabric over your skin, the texture so light you could barely feel it.

“A deal’s a deal, love, I’ll tell you how I cheated,” He smiled as satisfied and smug as he could ever be, a tingling sensation overtaking the patch of covered skin.

As he pulled your hand away you ran your fingers over the cloth, not finding a seam among the normal tone of your chest. Eyes wide as you looked at him for answers he was already happy to provide, “It’s called texture surprise. I can apply it to any flat surface and change its appearance. It’s quite handy,”

“It works on skin, paper, even playing cards,” You felt like an idiot. During the match you kept analyzing him for a sleight of hand trick all while he was using a second nen technique to win. It was so simple but genius, and you felt a little bit better knowing you weren’t outwitted by something obvious.

“You’re the worst, Hisoka,”

He chuckled, kissing along the new unblemished canvas of your neck, “I know~”

#hisoka x reader #hisoka x reader smut #hisoka morrow #hisoka morrow x reader #hisoka morrow x reader smut #phantom troupe #hxh fanfic #hxh #hunter x hunter

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plush-rabbit · 3 years ago

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Intimacy and Vulnerability In A Different Form

Request: Can I please request for some angst with Shigaraki, Hawks and Dabi. Their S/O acts like she enjoy choking but she feels like it’s what she deserve (basically triggering some suicidal/depressive thoughts) so they’ve always thought she liked it until one particularly rough session she started breaking down and begging them to kill her and they found out about her depression. Sorry if this is against the rules, I’m not sure what you don’t write for. But kinda need this in my life rn. Angst+Fluff and aftercare please!!!

Warning: self-harm mentions, suicidal thoughts

A/N: I hope you like it!! Take care of yourself and remember to do the best that you can to take care of yourself and if you can, take your meds!!

Dabi:

His hands are heavy around your neck, a pressure that makes it harder to breathe and even harder to think anything coherent. His lips are bitter, the taste of alcohol lingering on his tongue and his smile presses itself against you in soft kisses. Dabi hovers above you, and as pleasurable as this all should be- the attention that he gives to you and the words that usually makes your body tremble- it’s only making you sick. The pressure tightens and all that can flash through your mind is the horrible mistakes of your past, every wound left open and salt poured on it as his words reach your ears. You aren’t sure what makes this night different compared to the others but your own hands are placed above his, your eyes squeezed tight as you press your hands down on his.

At first, he thinks nothing of it, believing it to just be you simply telling him that you want more pressure but as you continue, your face burns. Tears tracing down and marking you, your moans jumbled out and sounding so pitiful that he stops immediately. Your lips move, words slurred and are told out of order and he knows that something is wrong. You mumble something about wanting to die, and he pulls his hand away from your neck and your own hands that replace where his hand used to be. Your hands curl around your neck, scratching and pulling taut at your skin and you’re left sobbing as he stares down at you. His hands are soft, curving around your wrist and holding them together, watching as you rest against his bare chest, your tears slipping down his skin and burning against his scars.

He isn’t sure what to do. He’s unable to figure out if he should outright ask you what’s wrong but between your sobs and mess of words, he figures that that isn’t wise. The only thing that he can do is hold you close, let his hands rise in heat and rub them against your back, hoping that the motion will soothe you. He has you against him, crying and he knows- or at least has gathered enough information- to decide that you do indeed want to die. You lay against him, crying and letting your emotions get the best of you and he is unable to do what he should do, but yet, he stares at you, looking around the room hoping that the answer will be written on the walls. But, it's just him and you and a wall with chipping paint. There’s no answer to this and he isn’t good at playing therapist, and the most he can offer is a simple question of “are you okay?” even if it’s obvious that you aren’t.

While he isn’t good at sorting things out and giving advice, he is good at listening, taking things to heart and paying attention to the small details. He listens to you talk about how you have your own bad habits- you hand threads with his when you say that- and that sometimes you wish that something or someone would end your life so you didn’t have to do the dirty work. He knows enough about that to nod his head and hold your hand tighter. Your lips brush over the swell in his chest and you rest on his lap, your body shaking with the aftershocks of your sobbing, and your face still wet with tears. He listens well when you talk, nodding his head and squeezing your hand to show that he is still listening to you and his lips press against your head.

The last thing that Dabi wants is to hurt you. He doesn’t want you to see him as something that can only bring pain and destruction; he wants you to view him as a person. He tells you in a whisper that anything rough is out of the question, he doesn't want this to happen again. He tells you that he’ll be with you because he wants to be and that you two can still remain intimate but he won’t hurt you, he doesn’t want to be the reason that you cry. His hands are gentle as they move you away from him, his hand holding your jaw and his eyes linger to when a tear touches his thumb. He kisses the tip of your nose, his smile lazy and he offers a shower- just something to get rid of all the tears and sweat. It isn’t a permanent solution, but it’s the best that he can offer and he’ll stay true to his word, not wanting to go against our trust and safety. There’ll be another conversation about your mental health, but only when you’re more coherent and less in a negative state.

Shigaraki Tomura:

It’s already a dangerous situation to place yourself in with Tomura- his hands around your neck, his focus already diverting to pleasure rather than focusing on you. It’s times like these that he regrets not remembering where he placed the half gloves. His entire being is centered around death, his hands clawed and already so close to closing, the air becoming thin and harder to catch and you’re left with burning tears in your eyes. Your lips meet his in a desperate kiss, straining your neck and making his hands close tighter around your neck. A part of you wants for it to hurt more, for his hands to close around your neck and squeeze until your lips are cold and he’s over your body. You call out in a croaky voice for him to tighten his grip, placing your hands over his and begging for his to close his fist. It’s getting harder to breathe and your vision is dotted in black, tears fall and catch on his hands and your moans have turned to cries. His hand loosens around your neck, his movements stopped and he carefully removes his hand away from you.

The air is tense in the room. Your cries echoing around and he stares down at your body as it closes around itself, your arms hugging your crying form. He carefully crawls beside you, clenching his teeth when the bed creaks under him, his body careful to not touch yours. Beside you, he sits, his back propped by pillows and his lips bitten as he calls your name. He isn’t sure what he’s hoping for in a response- he knows that the answer he wants is unrealistic given your state and he isn’t sure whether he can touch you or if that would lead you to spiral down. His hands catch at a piece of your hair, rubbing the ends between his thumb and index finger. He calls you once more, nudging his leg against your body, hoping that you’ll at least give him a sort of reply.

You give an odd sort of sound- something stuck between a cry and a hiccup- but he takes it. He leans over you, brushing away the stray hair and tears, grabbing at a shirt and cleaning your face with it. You hold his hands with yours, your palm over the back of his hand, the cloth pressed against your face, the warmth of his palms warming at your cheeks. He turns over to lie beside you, his chest against your back and his lips pressed over a bruising spot on your neck. You both lay in silence for a long moment, his hands sliding down until they curve around your stomach, his nose pressed against the back of your head as your cries turn into whimpers. He whispers words of comfort- telling you that it’s okay, that he’s stopped, and letting you just cry as his hands circle around your abdomen.

He asks you what happened, his lips pressed against your neck, his hands still and his words are solemn. He doesn’t know what set it off and he isn’t aware of what he should say and a part of him thinks that it’s his fault. He asks if it was his fault- that maybe he triggered something or something else that he doesn’t know what happened. Your confession about your state of mind makes his body go pale, a shiver running down his spine and his hands curl around your stomach. You make it a point of telling him it wasn't his fault- he hadn’t known, it was something that you kept as a secret. Your hands hold his, your face dry with tear stains still lingering against your face. After the sudden outburst, your tone grows drowsy, eyelids heavy and breaths deeper. He can sense that you’re growing tired, that the outburst took a lot of energy and he moves to grab at a blanket, letting it rest against your waist until you’re ready to move it closer to your body.

During the entirety of your relationship, Tomura has always put your wellbeing as a priority; he wants to know that you’re safe and healthy and when you confess about your issues, about how your mind works against you, he asks you to turn around. He holds you close, allowing you the option to look at him or hide your face, and he speaks slowly. He isn’t going to be the one that brings out painful memories, he’s going to be here for you. Perhaps, he won’t be the best at it, but he’ll do what he can, he’ll offer to listen and to talk, he’ll offer you snacks and hold you when you need to be held. He’ll try and that’s the best he can offer. For now, you’ll rest against him, your body covered by a blanket as he keeps you close, letting his arms wrap tight around you.

Takami Keigo:

A caring lover, Keigo takes great pride in giving in to your needs, wanting you to feel heard and seen during acts of intimacy. If you want his hands around your neck, then he’s willing to do it for you. His face will be pinched, a string of curses hissed under his breath as his hand tightens around your neck. You’re under him, a cloud of negative thoughts forming into a storm, your stomach twisting and churning with every move, your eyes closed tightly and yet, the pressure against your chest isn’t enough, the way that he has his hand wrapped around your throat simply isn’t enough.

It’s a simple bad day turned worse with sex. Despite the act of intimacy and the enjoyment that you derive from it, your thoughts scream loud, drowning out anything and you’re simply just tired. You beg him with a choking voice to tighten his grasp and he does, pressing his forehead against yours for a moment, pulling away with a crooked grin. He doesn't realize what you want- that it isn’t tight enough for you, that you’re pleading for more and that you want him to close the gap until you’re heaving and gasping for air. You beg for it to be tighter and the most that he offers is a squeeze around your throat before he loosens. His hand pulls away as you start to cry, his face falling into a frown as your words are slurred between each cry, your hands covering your face, taking deep breaths with a bitterness that lingers on your tongue.

He ground you, grabbing your hands and lifting you up, his wings pushed back in an attempt to make you feel less crowded. You’re crying, your body trembling and chest shaking with every breath, as he tries to calm you down, asking you to mimic his breaths and tell him the colors on the bed sheet. He’s desperate, fear thick on his words and his hands wanting to hold you but he refrains. His voice is steady as can be, hesitation on the end of his words but nothing like yours that trembles and breaks with every sentence. He’s a hero, he knows what to do, how to calm those who are almost seen as being uncontrollable. He gets your breathing back to normal, holds your knees and has you play with his hand, the lines and calluses traced and touched under your jittery hand.. He lets you catch your breath, your body shaking and tears slowing down into heavy drops.

You open your arms, hands curling close in an attempt to ask him to come closer. He follows, wrapping his arms around you, and bringing you close to him. Careful as ever, he makes sure his wings are extended, careful to not wrap them around you nor him, wanting you to have as much space to breathe. Your hands roam around back, clinging to his shoulder blades, the tips of his feathers teased with your fingertips. His voice is calm, letting you start the conversation or choosing to save it for later and focusing on you right now. You move him and he is putty in your hands, molding into whatever you need him to be, leaning against the headboard and holding you close, feathers twitching restlessly as you lean on his chest. His hands circle back around you, his chin on the top of your head as you start to speak. He lets you take your time when your voice starts to crack, his presence nothing but soothing.

It’s difficult to listen to you talk so negatively about yourself and to know that the rougher stuff introduced during acts of intimacy were more of a punishment rather than something for pleasure. Keigo is patient in listening to you, holding you close to him and kissing your knuckles as you talk and go further in detail. He won’t push you to do things that are outside of your comfort zone and would prefer for you to take your own pace and come into realizations for yourself. He’s your partner and he’ll help you as much as he can, but he isn’t good at taking care of himself and can often find him going further than what’s good for you. He talks to you and runs his hand down your spine, moving around until you’re side by side, his smile almost pained. It’s a minute before he rises, holding you close to him and leading you to the bathroom, turning the water on and letting you stand under it, his hands covered in white fluff as suds cover your body, his body close to yours.

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ruvatia · 3 years ago

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Sorry if this is a bit much with everything going on, but could I request a scenario where the Paladins + Matt & Lotor have a black s/o and they’re scared abt everything that’s happening in their country and are sad that racial injustice is happening? I’ve been rlly worried the past few days, but if this is smth too uncomfy I understand ;w; Thank you 💖💖💖

This got really long, I apologize but I turned it into half-headcanons with just the main paladins-- i apologize for not doing all the characters you’ve mentioned, but I don’t think they would fit all in a single post anyways www

On another note I hope you and every other reader take good care of their mental health; it’s important to be aware of what’s going on but it’s also important to be in the right mindspace to be able to tackle everything that’s being shared. It’s pain that’s been boiling for a very long time and there is absolutely no shame in taking some downtime to recover before heading back into current issues.

SHIRO:

If you were saddened, Shiro would suggest that maybe you switch to something else; if there was something that he knows will distract you and temporarily have you be a little more at ease, he’d do that!

But also maybe add a little twist-- extra soft blankets (fresh out of the oven! Screw the bills you’re worth it), extra cheese on your favorite dish, whatever it is that can make your smile a little wider, bigger or brighter just let him know!

Would give you hugs if you asked, but usually Shiro pets your head and brushes your cheek for comfort

He also does this when he wants to ask something of you, but thats another story

Why the TV was still on was a mystery to you, you’d stopped listening a long time ago. Your partner besides you noticed, and you felt the hand around your shoulder tighten his grip a little, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Hey, maybe we should watch something else?” he asked softly, brushing your cheek with his hand. “I can’t really listen to this anymore.”

“Yeah… Sure.” you replied, though it felt like an automated response more than your actual opinion.

“Okay, I’ll switch to that weird show Pidge recorded the other day, we agreed to watch it, right?” he replied, quickly grabbing the remote to change the program.

The first episode started playing, but the moment that it did, you felt cold as Shiro left your side.

“Where are you going?” you asked, your interlaced fingers the only thing keeping him close.

“Ah, I thought I’d make us something. We both kinda skipped dinner….”

He’d thought about putting something together that you’d like, maybe order dessert to surprise you but seeing the look on your face, leaving your side was the hardest thing to do right now.

So he gave in, and your both fell asleep until the doorbell rang with your delivery.

KEITH:

I have this headcanon that Keith isn’t very good with physical touch but after the end of voltron and after enough time of humanitarian relief, he learns how important it is for someone that’s in a specific state of mind

So the best he has to offer when his words fail is physical touch

Over your time together he’s learned what you need depending on your mood, and it helped him out lots when you were more vocal about it-- if anything he liked it when you asked for things that he could easily deliver, he’d do anything to see you smile

A hand came over your phone screen, Keith’s fingers lacing into yours and making you drop the device onto the crevices of the sofa.

“Why did you--”

“You’ve been staring at that thing for the past hour, biting at your nails.” he said in a worried tone. “That’s enough. We’re going to bed.”

“But it’s just--”

“We’re going to bed.” he repeated in a harsher tone, lifting you off your seat.

Keith sat down onto the bed first, pulling you into him. You both fell onto the bed, Keith quickly pulling the covers over your shoulders before his arms came around you.

“My alarm is my phone.”

“That’s nice, but we both know we have nothing to do tomorrow.” he replied right away, making you chuckle.

“Keith…” you called, your hands sneaking up to his face.

You brushed away some of his hair from his face as he gave you a complicated expression, unable to reflect the small smile you wore. He knew things were shit outside, that being apart from your family and other loved ones was a toll on both you and that lately negative thoughts have plagued you more often than not but Keith, despite his good intention was still somewhat of an awkward man.

“Thank you.”

He kissed you in reply and you both left it at that, glad that he had someone like you to meet him halfway.

LANCE:

Lots of hugs the moment he feels something is off with you

Will be a brat™ for the sole purpose of distracting you, bET

I feel like post-series Lance tries his best to be as observant as Allura and tries to understand others better-- but it didn't take a genius or incredible empath to know why your eyes looked like they were about to overflow at the sight of the news.

I’d like to think that Lance, with a big connected family is one of the paladins that very easily gets what you’re going through, wouldn’t be surprised he’s been called one or two things in his past either

That being said it doesn’t mean that he completely understands your personalized struggles with racial injustices that you encounter everyday; as another minority himself + coming from a culture and upbringing that might be different than yours, its a very different experience.

Memories flooded as the news anchor spoke about “lootings” and as you scrolled down your feed to see feeble attempts at sympathy from local peacekeepers. You sigh and retweet another thread, only to find something equally as shocking right after. You stopped commenting in quote retweets a while ago, you felt like you were constantly repeating that none of this was okay and that a reform was desperately needed. Rather than typing out your thoughts you typed out your name, address and email over and over again, signing one petition after the other.

Hearing sigh after sigh, Lance eventually put an arm around your shoulder. He startled you, but his soft voice made both your shoulders and your guard lower.

“Hey, do you want to make a midnight snack with me? I’m getting kinda hungry.”

“What about that new rule we were talking about? Not eating 4 hours before we went to bed?”

“Every diet has one or two cheat days, don’t they?” he replied, kissing one of your eyelids. “Come on, I’m sure your neck is sore from being like that for so long.”

In the end you both made some soul-food until a food-coma knocked you out until tomorrow. In the morning, you realized that Lance must’ve woken up in the middle of the night because you remember cuddling on the couch, and yet you’re waking up on the bed. Of course, still in his arms.

HUNK:

Having a sensible heart, I feel like both you and hunk would struggle a little about maintaining a healthy distance with current events.

Though overtime he would understand that keeping in touch with everything that’s going on is important, but not at the sake of burning out

His best bet, to him, to pull you out of a such a dark space is with comfort food

“Ok ppl feel like they want to eat a horse but they actually cant when they’re in that mind space Hunk, let’s make something sweet and small; something direct and straight to the point! Let’s add smiley faces on it!”

Your turned down the volume from the news, let your head fall backwards and brought up your forearm over your closed eyes. It felt warm and made it you realize that you had probably been staring very intensely at the screen as a wave of comfort hit your eyes the moment they were drowned in darkness. Letting out a deep breath, you stilled and let yourself bask in your thoughts until a familiar voice brought you back.

“Maybe a little bit more sugar? No, then it would be disbalanced. The base is already so sweet-- Ah, I have to take the cupcakes out or else they might get burned!”

You felt a smile grow on your lips, making you ignore the horrid news being broadcasted to turn to your partner that as usual, seemed to juggle ten thousand things to create a whole meal.

“What’s going on over here?” you asked, leaning over the counter to note that one of your favorite dishes was made and machines that were mostly used for baking had been brought out.

“Oh you know, just a little pick me up for my most favorite person ever.” he shrugged, but a smile soon came to his face. His hands were full but he leaned over, his lips meeting your cheek. “Things outside are a little dark, so I thought we could both use a little something nice.”

He turned on the machine after dropping a drop of dye to make it your favorite color and within a few minutes the icing was finished. Hunk scooped up a small amount on his finger and brought it to his lips and nod.

“Wanna taste?” he asked you, his finger dipping into the icing.

A mischievous grin spread on your features as you took his wrist and let his finger fall on your tongue, the sweetness quickly spreading through your mouth. The yellow paladin shivered as you let his digit hang in your mouth for longer than necessary, letting out a satisfied hum when you returned it to him.

“Tastes perfect.”

PIDGE:

She knew what could be fixed, she knew how to fix it but this meant she was also aware of how long such a transition would take

I think Pidge would be similar to Shiro: whatever she remembers that helps you be at ease, she would defect to that in hopes to maybe distract you for a while.

I don’t think Pidge is a very touchy person either, so if she reaches out to you _physically_ in worry, it’s a very clear sign she’s serious/anxious

I feel like she would reach out in other ways and then if she knew you were in a specific state of mind where touch was not useful, or if she just also wanted to try things out lol

As you watched the twisted information that was being shared on screen, another message caught your attention. Rather than a small red icon in the corner, a small window appeared in the middle of your computer screen.

The video had stopped, every horrible gif about police brutality was paused and there was nothing else but the small window pidge had thrown onto your screen. You chuckled, and felt a pressure behind your working chair.

Another message popped up.

<You’ve been catching up with twitter for the past two hours. Surely you’re done now?>

A soft laugh came from you, making Pidge release a breath she didn’t know she was holding. You typed out an answer:

<Okay, but half of them are just cat videos and the other half are just retweets of said videos.>

You both laughed, before Pidge turned around and tapped your shoulder. She let her hand float in the air, yours coming to join it as a soon as your turned her way.

“Wanna take a nap?” she asked, letting her head fall onto your shoulder. “I had Chip make some hot chocolate, Hunk style.”

You squeezed her hand, putting your computer on sleep mode.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.”

#voltron writings #shiro x reader #takashi shirogane x reader #keith x reader #keith kogane x reader #lance x reader #lance mcclain x reader #hunk x reader #hunk garett x reader #pidge x reader #katie holt x reader #for context this was requested around june 2020 #its a year late and thata my fault wjdjan

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my-tin-can-mans · 4 years ago

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Hunter helping you when you're feeling down

alright guys so my mental health has been kind of kicking my ass here recently so I decided to write a one-shot on how hunter would handle it. I know this might not be relatable to everyone but this was kinda just for me to help deal with it hopefully some of you find it good.

Pairings: Sergeant Hunter x Reader

Warnings: mentions of struggles with mental health

You were the only woman on the ship, which meant you had a room to yourself. It wasn’t much of a room though than it was a cleaned-out storage space, just enough to fit your cot and some built in shelves Tech and made for you when you officially became a part of the crew, but it was enough.

Though tonight you weren’t in your room. You sat in the cockpit where you could hear the low hum of the engine and use the hyperspace streaking stars as a meditation. You couldn’t sleep, and the last place you felt like being was in your room, alone with your thoughts. This way you at least had other things to try and focus on. You sat there in silence for maker knows how long just trying to keep your emotions at bay and lull yourself to sleep.

“Can’t sleep?” you heard from behind you.

You turned your head around to see none other than the sergeant himself. Of course he would be the one to find you like this. You let out a well needed sigh, “No,” you replied.

He took the co-pilots seat to the right of you and focused his attention to the stars. He was silent for a few moments before he decided to turn his head to you and speak again, “Are you okay?”

Maker, you hated that question, why would anyone ask, it was a stupid question really. The easy answer to the question was yes, physically yes, you were perfectly healthy, the mission had gone well, and you were on your way back to Coruscant to debrief which should be a breeze. No one was harmed, all went smoothly. But this was how your brain functioned sometimes, when all was good in life, it screamed at you that it wasn’t. As you thought about this before you answered you realized your eyes were starting to swell up with tears.

“No,” it was broken and whispered. Hell, if it wasn’t for his enhanced senses, you were sure he probably wouldn’t have heard you.

He reacted quickly, stepping up from his seat and kneeling in front of your chair, “Hey, hey what’s wrong?” he asked as he took his hand up to wipe the tear that had started to roll down your jaw. His eyebrows had furrowed together in concern and at any other time you would’ve found it adorable but of course this was the moment it was happening in.

This action broke you down and you started to ramble, “that’s just it, nothing’s wrong, everything is perfectly fine, but I don’t know I just get this feeling sometimes and, and- “

He cut you off by bringing his hands to your shoulder blades and pushing you into him, he took one hand to your head and brought it to rest in the crook of his neck as you began to cry. “It's okay to feel off sometimes.”

He took his hand that was on your head and threaded it through your hair beginning to run his hand through it while his other that was still on your back started soothing you.

You both stayed in this position for a while, and when your tears finally stopped, and you became silent again he held on for a little longer just to make sure before pulling away and bringing his hands to wither side of your face.

He studied your face for a moment longer in the silence before he broke it, “how about you try and get some sleep huh?”

You panicked, the whole reason you’d come out here was because you didn’t want to be in that room right now. You couldn’t stand your own personal space when you were like this, “No, Hunter I-I can’t, I can’t be in room right now please-“

He stood up and took your hand for you to stand up as well. He dropped your left hand but held onto the right one as he led you out of the cockpit. You walked down the small hall to the rooms, but he has passed yours and only stopped when he reached his own at the very end.

Fortunately, Hunter was the only other member on the team who didn’t share a room. His enhanced senses made it hard to share a room with one of his brothers and it was also the furthest away from any noises.

Before this moment you have never stepped foot into Hunters room. It was a big rule for every member of the bad batch not to go in there. When he opened the door and led you in, you couldn’t help but take in your surroundings, it was clean, a lot larger than yours, enough space for a bed and room to move around it. A chest sat to the right of it which you assumed held his spare blacks and any other possessions. It was clean, and it smelt that way too. You took a deep breath as he guided you to his bed and sat you on the edge, it smelt like the soap he used.

He didn’t need to speak any words to you, it was a mutual understanding that that wouldn’t help, right now you just needed company. He flicked off the light hanging right beside his bed and got situated before he pulled you into him. You were positioned just as you were in the cockpit, his arms around you, one in your hair and one on your back with your head in the crook of his neck. You inhaled again taking in his scent.

Though this wasn’t a cure, you both knew, for the time being it helped.

#hunter x reader #tbb hunter #star wars the clone wars #sergeant hunter #sergeant hunter x reader #the bad batch #the bad batch x reader #star wars tbb #hunter #fluff #hunter x you #sergeant hunter x you

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