#Masks not as in characters based off him but characters he's pretended to be... He usually drops them pretty quickly but | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hxney-lemcn · 5 months ago

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Affection — NRC Students x gn! reader

summery: what is being affectionate with your fav like?

tw: bad parents (Riddle, Leona (?), Jamil (?)), angsty (Riddle, Leona, Ruggie (kinda), Jamil, Idia, Ortho, Malleus (kinda)).

a/n: A lot of these are based on my own headcanons (Jade).

wc: 2.6k (~100 per character)

Master List

❥ Riddle Rosehearts

Growing up his mother didn’t give him much affection. He wasn’t treated like a child, more like a trophy. Something you keep just out of reach, something you only lay your eyes on. Riddle is terribly touch starved and doesn’t know it. So when you start showing him acts of affection he has no idea how to handle it. What does he do? When is it okay to do these acts? Don’t mind how stiff he is when you hug him or how red he turns if you hold hands. It's something he’s never felt before, and you have unlocked something deep inside Riddle that had been tucked away. So please, give him another hug would you? It helps slowly heal something in him he didn’t know was broken.

❥ Trey Clover

Trey is a total sweetheart. He doesn’t mind affection at all. Growing up with siblings, he’s used to hugging and hand holding. Whether you're affectionate out the gate or need a little coaxing, it's like Trey instinctively knows. He’ll ask before doing anything, asking for consent, getting to know your boundaries. If you don’t like affection, that’s fine with him, if you only like being affectionate behind closed doors he doesn’t mind. Just know that Trey loves any and all forms of affection you show him, no matter how big or little. He cherishes you, and he’ll show you that in any form you prefer.

❥ Cater Diamond

We all know Cater doesn’t mind hanging off you out in public. Hugs, cheek kisses, hand holding, you name it, he’s probably done it. What he doesn’t want people knowing is how tiring it is for him to keep up that facade. Although, when it comes to you he doesn’t even register half the things he does. You’re like a magnet that pulls him in. Though, his favorite forms of affection are behind closed doors, just the two of you, no camera. Whether it be you two existing in the same room, or you laying on his chest or vice versa, those are his favorite moments. He doesn’t have to pretend, doesn’t have to put on a mask to make others happy because he is happy with you.

❥ Deuce Spade

Even though Deuce’s mom has showered him with affection growing up, he’s still shy about it. His image before was a punk, and now he’s trying to be an honor student. So if you ever hug him or try to hold his hand his face will flame up and he won’t be able to meet your eyes. He’s a gentleman though, through and through. Always makes sure you're comfortable even if you’re the one who initiated. He’s not too picky when it comes to affection…but he does prefer if you do it behind closed doors. He loves your kisses, but he doesn't love Ace teasing him about it.

❥ Ace Trappola

Oh boy. Ace is a little gremlin. He acts like your affection doesn’t do anything, acts all smug like you're lucky for being able to hold his hand. All the while his mind is melting and the bright blush on his face gives his true feelings away. I wouldn’t say he’s exactly touch starved, but he does crave your affection. When he became a teen he stopped hugging his parents ‘cus his brother would make fun of him otherwise. He crafted his unbothered persona, and didn’t realize how much he missed hugging until you gave him one. He rarely initiates, but sometimes he crumbles.

❥ Leona Kingscholar

He’s another one who didn’t grow up with much affection, always watching as his older brother Falena got all the praise. He’s bitter, seeing affection as a weakness, like showing your underbelly to your predator. Being soft got you nowhere in the animal kingdom…but he did enjoy it when you played with his hair or kissed his cheek. It left an odd warm feeling to fill him, making him grumble about your idiocy. Deep down, he was scared about how much he enjoyed your affection, scared he’d be upstaged once more and you’d find someone else to love. So he’ll just make sure that doesn’t happen, ‘cus there’s no one better than him after all.

❥ Ruggie Bucchi

Where he’s from, showing affection is like putting a target on your back. It shows a weakness that someone could take advantage of. This is why Ruggie is so skittish at first, always making an excuse to run away if you go to hug him, your hands brush and he’s lifting his hands up to his head (y’know that one position). But once he warms up, realizes you won’t snatch his food and run like a thief, he finds himself enjoying your embrace. It’s like heaven to lay his head in your lap as you feed him an orange. How your hands trace his face so lovingly, like trash like him is actually worth something.

❥ Jack Howl

Jack is a bit awkward when it comes to affection. He’s closed off, but his tough personality does melt away to reveal a heart of gold. He doesn’t mind if you hold his hand, just please don’t mention the pink that tints his cheeks. He does enjoy when it's just the two of you, he feels more relaxed, like he can actually take in your warmth. His hugs might be a bit uncomfortable with all that muscle, but don’t tell him that ‘cus he might stop hugging you then :( On the bright side, you could sit on his back while he does push ups :)

❥ Azul Ashengrotto

This guy…you can’t even compliment him without him running away at first. Although Azul’s mom was almost over affectionate, he’s another one that gets shy at the thought of anything affectionate. He was ridiculed growing up, which made him sharpen his edges. He has a persona to uphold, he can’t be…clingy…oh is he clingy. Out in public it's only small acts, holding hands, hand resting on your lower back, kiss to the back of your hand. In private is a whole other story. Loves hugs, cuddling, kisses, staring at you. Azul doesn’t get much alone time, so the moments you have together behind closed doors he likes to use to his full advantage. Can you blame him? You looked so lovely all day, do you know how terrible it was to watch you without giving you a kiss?

❥ Jade Leech

Doesn’t really need affection, but finds it cute when you seek him out. He loves you, yes, but affection isn’t really his forte. He won’t deny you a kiss though, especially not when you pout so cutely. Jade’s more of a tease, due to the fact that he doesn’t mind a lack of affection, he finds it hilarious to watch you long for it. He’ll brush his hand against yours, but won’t hold it. He’ll lean in close to your face only to whisper in your ear. He’ll gently brush his fingers over your cheek…only to pinch it. But if you're feeling down, he won’t hesitate to whisk you somewhere private and hold you close. He does love you after all.

❥ Floyd Leech

Another oh boy. His ‘affection’ can seem less like affection and more like torture. He won’t go easy on you either. In fact, he’ll probably squeeze you tighter due to his cute aggression. Floyd, unlike Jade, loves, loves, loves hugging, holding, squeezing. Then you opened him to the world of kissing, biting. Good luck with that. Most of the time he’s all over you, in public or in private, he doesn’t care, if he wants to nibble on you he’s gonna nibble on you. If you’re uncomfy with that he’ll try to tone it down (will he?), but he will probably forget and do it anyway. If he’s in a sour mood he won’t seek out affection, but if you do the right thing it might make him feel a little better…but be careful.

❥ Kalim Al Asim

He gives so many hugs it makes Jamil want to bash his head in. Do you know how many ways Kalim could get killed with how trusting he is? Expect hugs, hand holding, pulling, cheek kisses, and giggling. He’s not afraid to show the world how much he loves you, and he loves affection! When you show him affection though…get ready for a giggly, blushy, kicking his feet in the air Kalim. He’s so used to being the one giving affection he forgot what it's like to receive it. Yeah a lot of his siblings love him…but a lot have also tried to assassinate him so… Jamil finds you to be a double edged sword, as you tend to keep Kalim reigned in…but he also goes crazy over you.

❥ Jamil Viper

Does not like it. Not at first. It takes a lot to earn his trust, and growing up he didn’t get much affection if any. So he doesn’t like it, it's a foreign feeling and it's just too much for him. Though gradually, he finds himself thinking about your touch, the way your fingers felt as your hands brushed, or wondering how soft it would be to hug you. He curses himself for becoming so weak, but those curses quiet down the second your arms hold him so sweetly. No pda, none whatsoever. But behind closed doors he's more willing to give in to your tender touches (not that he’d admit it).

❥ Vil Schoenheit

Vil is picky about affection. There’s certain things that you can and can’t do during certain times. With the media always on his back, you can never be too careful about pda. He doesn’t want the world to hound you about your relationship with him, so he tends to keep things behind closed doors. He shows his affection in other ways to compensate, whether it be picking out your outfit or fixing your hair. He has become your personal stylist and you should be thankful. When it's just the two of you though, he becomes such a sap. Holds you so sweetly, trails of kisses, murmurs sweet nothings into your hair. Vil loves you and he won’t let you think otherwise.

❥ Rook Hunt

When doesn’t he show you affection? Flowery words trail after you as you walk to class. Kisses to the back of your hand trail up your arm. No one can outcompete Rook when it comes to admiring you. You could kill a man and he’d be singing your praises while hiding all evidence for you. What's surprising is how he acts when it's just you two alone. Although he is sincere with his usual flowery words, it feels more intimate when you both are alone. When he’s holding your close, staring at you so lovingly, whispering how much you mean to him? I get it Rook lovers, I’ve finally gotten it.

❥ Epel Felmier

Nuh-uh. Affection? That’s for losers! Don’t ask about how loving his grandparents are. Blushes profusely at even the smallest act and then scolds you. He’s a manly man and manly men don’t cuddle! Off topic but I’d love to go on a rant about toxic masculinity and how those stereotypes hurt men more and see how he reacts. Epel warms up to affection quickly, but only if he initiates in public. When it's just you two he’s more chill about it. Resting your head on his shoulder, having you wrap your arms around his, placing a kiss on his forehead—don’t tell anyone that last one…

❥ Idia Shroud

Poor, poor Idia. He only knows affection from Ortho, and after Ortho…once he became a technomantic humanoid Idia couldn’t hug him anymore. It reminded him that Ortho wasn’t…yeah so let's just say Idia is hella touch starved due to self isolation. So you have to slowly bring him out of his shell, revealing that old wound he’s left to fester and tending to it so gently. He can’t help but shiver every time you run your hands through his hair, or when you kiss his temple, or when your body heat seeps into him. Over time he comes to crave your affection, seeking you out but never outright stating what he wanted. Thankfully for him you always seemed to know what he needed.

❥ Ortho Shroud

This poor boy pt 2. After he was created he didn’t really experience physical affection. With his bulky bodies and being made from metal, he wasn’t comfortable to hug. Ortho never thought about it much, although he was curious what affection felt like. So when you hugged him without a second thought he almost cried (if he could). Soaks up your affection like a sponge and reciprocates tenfold. He now hugs you as a greeting and holds your hand when you both are going somewhere. He can’t help it! Who knew affection was so nice! And since you're willing, he’ll always come to you if he needs someone to lean on.

❥ Malleus Draconia

Malleus knows of affection, but being the future king of Briar Valley and extremely powerful he only knows affection through Lilia and his grandmother. Lilia was super loving, don’t get me wrong, but Malleus could never shake that feeling of loneliness. The way people avoid him, how he’s always out of reach. Yet you…you were willing to listen to him and accompany him. So when you even touched him, he wasn’t sure what to do. He wasn’t well versed in means of affection, and human affection seemed even more strange. You didn’t just hold his hand, you’d lean on him, you wouldn’t just kiss his cheek, you’d boop him afterwards. Yet he thrived with anything you’d give him. Malleus is content with watching you eagerly, waiting for the next form of affection you’d show him.

❥ Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia isn’t afraid to show his affection, and more often than not it leaves his subordinates (children) embarrassed. So when you came along, you had become his willing victim. He shows his affection in less conventional ways. His favorite is scaring you, popping out at random like he was trying to put you into cardiac arrest. But he makes up for it by kissing your nose after. He’ll also cook for you…I pray for your sanity because he can be really sweet but it comes in underhanded ways. If you eat his food he’ll be over the moon…if you don’t he’ll pout. It’s up to you if you want to live or not.

❥ Silver Vanrouge

Growing up under Lilia’s wing did him some favors. He’s not against affection, he just never thought about it too much. He doesn’t mind if you hold his hand or if you kiss his cheek. His favorite is when you both cuddle. He’s a sleepy guy, so naturally this is the most common form of affection you both share. Even the animals will join you two. When he isn’t sleeping though, he’ll give you kisses on the back of your hand, guide you around, he’s your personal knight now. Although he does feel bad that he has to leave you a lot for his duty, he’ll always try to make it up to you at the end of the day.

❥ Sebek Zigvolt

Nope. No affection allowed. Your eardrums will be shattered if you try. He’s another one who has to warm up to it. His parents are super loving, and he’s used to his mom always hugging him…but he stopped all that nonsense because he has to give his all to his Waka-sama. Sebek is so intense in his worship of Malleus he finds it indecent to even think of anything romantic/affectionate with you. But when you break him down, when you hug him so sweetly or kiss his cheek so softly…yeah he’s a goner. Deep down he craves for your affection, he loves it to a point it scares him. He felt his heart crack when he denied you once, the guilt in your eyes leaving him with a sour taste in his mouth. He supposes he’ll allow you to hug him, but he’s still got a reputation to uphold.

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dceasesd · 5 months ago

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why juni ba’s the boy wonder has my favorite jason characterization of any contemporary comic run: a needlessly in-depth analysis (pt.3)

go check out part 1 and part 2 if you'd like! this is a long one, sorry guys.

if you haven't already i'd recommend you check out pt. 1 & pt. 2 (linked above), but if you haven't checked them out i've been going over some of the main things people have been criticizing ba's characterization for: 1. the typical boiling down of jason's character to "the angry one" 2. his lack of strategy going into the fight with the demon is out-of-character 3. the neighbor's kid interaction

alright, so this last point is purely based off of one page of the entire comic: the one where the child of one of jason's neighbors is dragged inside his home when his mother see's jason coming.

first off, i love this page. it might be my favorite page in the entire issue. everything about it is great. just thought i needed to say that.

anyway, there's some people who are seeing this page and reading it as "jason protects kids! that's one of his big things! why are they scared of him?"

here's the thing, though: the kid isn't scared of jason, the mom is. the kid is literally playing dress up as the red hood-- he's not scared of jason, if anything he's trying to replicate him. little kids dress up as their heroes all the time; why is this kid any different? it doesn't really make sense for the kid to dress up of something he's scared of (not everyone is as weird bruce wayne), especially a real person that could be a real threat rather than a concept. i doubt you see many kids in gotham dressing up as the joker or something, because that's just asking for trouble.

the dress-up honestly seems like a ploy for attention to me. the kid clearly knows that red hood lives in his building (which is honestly so funny. take off the mask jason you're giving you're position away (actually this is a really good instance for analysis but i'm determined to not go on a tangent)). if the kid knows red hood lives in his building, what better way to get his attention that dressing up as him and playing pretend? if the kid was scared of him, he wouldn't want to draw that sort of attention to himself. if he had a sort of hero-worshippy thing going on like i suspect, then he would want to get jason's attention. to sum it up,

it's the mom who pulls him away when jason nears, because she either a) perceives him as a threat, b) doesn't want her kid to try and replicate him even more, or, the most likely option, both! the kid isn't scared of him, but the mother believes they should be.

once again, we come back to the whole perception vs. reality theme i talked about in part one! we've come full circle, everyone!

when looking at the neighborhood's perspective of the red hood, ba gives us a few contradictory examples. there's the kid and the mother, obviously, but there's also a slew of other citizens who interact with him at the beginning of the issue, both in fear and camaraderie.

the unhoused man and the people outside of his building clearly have a familiarity and are comfortable with him, while the shopkeeper is terrified and literally has a banned poster on his wall featuring jason (i am so curious what he did to deserve that, if he even did anything at all). from this, it appears that jason's reputation teeters between fearful and familiar-- a sentiment that also colors jason's relationship with his family.

furthermore, this concept underscores just how lonely jason is-- one of the only good relationships he had in his current life was his fucking landlord, for gods sake, and he's dead.

i think it's important to note that jason doesn't respond to the friendly greetings from the men-- he could attempt to build camaraderie, the roots are there, but he chooses not to. he could work to try and show the mother that her son is safe with him, but he chooses not to. why? jason is obviously lonely (as ba states in the panel below) and he caves pretty easily when damian asks him for help (both of them are so desperate for human interaction its tragic). so why does he distant himself from the community?

obviously it is in part due to the vigilante lifestyle, but it is also jason's perception of himself and how he believes others perceive him, especially in regards to his family (ba is literally hitting readers in the head with that theme baseball bat).

he doesn't see that the kid with the mask looks up to him, all he sees is the mother pulling him away. he sees the banned poster in the store. and, as ba narrates, "he was sure he'd been forgotten about" by his family. utrh is jason's twisted way of attempting to reach out and connect with bruce, and obviously that doesn't work-- so he chooses loneliness over rejection.

like in part one, though, damian refutes this idea by describing bruce's perspective, showing how what jason believes differs from actuality. bruce hasn't forgotten about him and doesn't hate him, as he suspected, but instead harbors guilt over the situation and desires to make it better, which jason must come to understand to be able to open the locked door and begin to move past his trauma.

so, that's what the little kid in the red hood outfit looks like to me. i actually have a lot more i'd like to say about the boy wonder, especially in regards to the whole "door to my past life" thing and what ba does with lighting and blocking in his artwork, so i may do a little post on that as well! i was gonna try and shove it into this one, but i've run out of room! i hope you guys liked my analysis, if you'd like to chat about the boy wonder or any other comics, my dms, asks, and reblogs are happily open! thanks for reading! :)) <3

pt. 1 / pt. 2

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valentine-cafe · 1 month ago

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. ˚◞♡ switch antihero x switch villain male reader ꒰ kinktober: hate-fucking ꒱◞ ₊˚

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ 781 alessio / switch villain male reader ꒱ you and the mercenary have quite the history together. from intense fights to hours of heated fucking. a constant fight for dominance. one night, you decide to steal him away to your base in an attempt to get back at him for 'last time'

𖹭. content warnings◞ explicit content . sooo much switching . degredation . dumbification . hand job . fingering . dirty talk . penetrative sex . bondage . creampie . multiple orgasms . 5.4k

𖹭. receipts◞ had to sacrifice my first born child for this but nevertheless hope you enjoy!

. ˚◞ ꒰ 🍰 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒔 ꒱ m.list . guidelines . characters . lorebook ⊹ ۪ ࣪

“Not every day I find myself a cute little mercenary.”

The roll of his emerald eyes only brings a chuckle from your lips. That’s rare. The mere idea of annoying him brought shivers of excitement over your skin as you duck your head closer to his restrained form.

Indeed, to get your hands on The Reaper - or as you know him, Alessio Arias, is quite the impressive feat. Even more so to have him bound and helpless in a chair. The sight urges your tongue to wet your lips.

His brow raises. You can already see that smirk at the corner of his lips — if it weren’t for his black half-mask concealing it. While you might wish to rid him of it, a part of you finds it ever as attractive to keep him fully geared. Would feed into the humiliation of it all. Wouldn’t it?

“Getting a bit too excited over there?”

Perhaps you should curse the fact that you neglected to restrain his legs fully. Damn him - all manspread and simply showing off like that. It made it difficult to beat the allegations of your. . . arrangement.

“Can you blame me?” No, no one could. Not even when you swing a leg over and settle into his lap. Hands reaching out for the backrest of the chair so that you might crane over him. In turn, he is such a doll to lean his head back so that you have the perfect view of his face. His exposed neck that thrums a pulse you oh so wish to sink your teeth into.

You cannot help but cup at his face. He’s too pretty to be your enemy. And you are simply too obsessed with him to pretend as though you are his.

Pretend? No. You aren’t pretending.

This whole shtick is what makes it all the more fun.

The click of his tongue is what brings you out of your mini swirl of fantasies. “If you needed a good fucking s’bad you could have just called me up, querido.” His croon is less than affectionate.

Still, you bite your lip and muse in turn. “Who said anything about fucking me? Maybe I just wanna get back for last time.”

You dare to roll your hips. Slowly. Tantalising. In a way that will nurse that bulge in his black leather pants that you already anticipate. It never takes long to get him up and going — that’s the difference between your lovely enemy and the other eyesores you’ve brought to bed.

Not that you would admit that to him, however.

“Aww but your pretty little ass certainly wasn’t complaining when I stuffed it full last time.” He doesn’t hide his groan when your hips begin to move into his. Neither does he attempt to grind back, however. “Always begs for it. Try to act as tough as you want - we both know you’re already clenching round nothin’. Slut.”

His words spark irritation through your entire form. Even more so when you imagine that stupid grin behind his mask. If there is another thing that Alessio is good at - it is getting on every last one of your nerves. So much so that you discard the whole grinding agenda and immediately set sails at fumbling with his jean’s front button and zipper.

“Yeah?” Your face cranes closer. The only downside to that damned mask is that you do not have the ability to shut him up with your lips. It swells more irritation in your abdomen. Yet - that all bubbles away at the sight of his already, blatantly hard cock in the bulge of his boxers.

“I’m the slut?”

Your fingers stroke along the curve of fabric. You bite on your grin at the sound of his low groan. The sight of his throat which bobs with effort to keep his noises on the low. Restraints scratch into the chair and the sound reverberates through your base. It follows your short snort of laughter as your nails hook into the hem of his boxers and drag it down.

“Would you look at that.” The tut that falls from your lips is nothing short of mocking. And so you swipe your tongue to sate yourself of the need that dries your mouth. Your hand wastes no time. It wraps around his pulsating cock and gives it a little squeeze.

Oh, what a delicious sound he makes.

Alessio throws his head back. Dark hair tousles and dangles. Thick lashes flutter and at last, his hips steer into yours. In a stuttered buck that is enough to have you chuckling.

“Yeah. Slut.” Your hand makes a small, jerky motion that has a grunt of similar nature vibrate from his throat. The vein on his underside throbs against your palm and it’s enough incentive to flush your hand along the sensitive skin and rub with purpose.

The man swallows down the lump of pleasure that forms in his throat, mixed with agitation and the slightest of need. Which he denies heavily. You deserve to know nothing of what he’s thinking nor what he wants.

. . . What is the point though? You already know. You always know.

“H-ahh,” he breathes out, you anticipate his attempted words to be the usual ones of sass and clapbacks. And you are ever right. You roll your eyes as the man, despite the heavy strain. At the linger of a moan that threatens to come forth.

“Fanculo a te. Tu — tu mi guardi sempre. I tuoi occhi mi implorano di scoparti. E sono io la puttana? F-nnhgh.” ( Fuck you. You... you always look at me. Your eyes beg me to fuck you. And I'm the whore? )

Any further comment on your behaviour vanishes, as your fingers wrap to squeeze around his cock, hard. Pushing your finger down the one vein and moving it upwards.

With a slight twist of your hand. While keeping your thumb in place. A pace begins to build, and quick enough that previously restrained moans all flutter out of his throat. What a symphony swirls around the room. What a creation of such splendid music, is his voice.

With each moan that falls from his lips, it gets harder to ignore the tightness in your own pants. The bulge grows quite obvious. Oh, what it took to keep your hand moving around his cock and not simply switch places and shove his face into your crotch. You weren’t too sure. But the will was strong enough.

Perhaps it was spite.

Spite from all of the time he has berated you and called you a desperate whore. He’s the desperate whore, it is something he has been since the time you met him.

A swipe of your thumb across his tip. You breathe out quietly. The digit moves across the soft tip to smear the precum out on it. Only to press down on the slit and spread a smile of delight on your face.

“Awwww, pobrecito- was that too much?” The croon echoes into the room, but you, with your merciless heart. Keep working your hand roughly at the twitching dick in its hold. All attention honed on him. On his whines. His desperation. Those bucking his hips and cusses he throws at you.

“Hhhah— Ngh- shut-th- — Shut the f—fuhhngh.” Well, that certainly was an attempt.

An attempt that calls your cackle, while shivers rush up and down his spine. If there is one thing he despises more than the fact you make him feel all sorts of pleasure. It is the fact that your laughter is so very addicting.

It didn’t matter in what the laughter directs to. Your laughter is beautiful and he gas wished many times before to sit and just listen to it for fucking hours. He hates it.

It is rare indeed to make The Reaper break into a sweat. Yet here you are, as he ever so slowly began to reach his orgasm. All because you kept going so slow.

A loud groan emits from his throat at the pace. It felt too fucking good to be this slow. Your hand makes shallow jerks against his dick, and then slowly moves its way up to the tip with long strokes.

“Fuck- Hurr- Hgnh ahngh, Hurry it up.”

The audacity to gasp at the demand that you are given. His brows furrow as you look almost offended. “You truly are an absolute whore, aren’t you. Arias?” You chuckle. Squeeze a bit harder than before and watch as a jolt shakes straight through him. Hips bucking in desperation while his fingers drag along the palms of his hand.

If only you’d noticed that the binds had fallen off long ago. But he liked to play these games. Wondering what he’d get out of it.

“Repeat it hm?” The frustrated demand from you spits towards him and earns the smallest of chuckle. The nerve of this man.

“Hurry. it. up.” He groans and bucks his hips once more.

So close, he’s so close. Just a bit more. Fuck if you think he’s a whore, he’ll get back at you.

And as though his prayers are answered. With the spite and need to have him back at his quivers and whines. You dig your thumb against his tip and rub a few tight, merciless circles. Before you are at it again. Quick, tempered pumps and jerks to his spasming dick.

“So fucking demanding. I’ve got you bound and whimpering - yet you have the nerve.”

A swell of spit aims at the head of his cock. One that your thumb catches and swirls around the sensitive bundle of nerves. As if you need any more lubricant with the way he spills precum like a fountain. The messy action, however, bursts a tremble of a moan from his throat. A series of pants and needy bucks follow close behind.

You are unsure of the slew that leaves his swollen lips. Whether they be begs or a string of curses - maybe both. All you can focus on is the warm feeling that spills onto your hand. The surge of pride through every fibre of your body.

Still, you glance down to view the fruits of your labour. The beautiful sight of his cum shooting thick, sticky strings all over your palm. A mess to both himself and you. One that sparks a wide grin to your lips.

“As I said earlier.” Your croon meets his ear as you dare to give a few more pumps to his twitching dick. Kisses pepper against his reddened ear. Another badge to your pride. All while you murmur in a way that you know he’ll make you pay for if he were not restrained at this very moment.

“Slut.”

A flick to his tip. Like the cherry on top. You would be a liar if you say that it is not a sight for sore eyes. One that moves your muscles and urges you to change position immediately.

Your knees find the floor right before his chair. Hands still eagerly cup around the clearly pulsating cock. Your grin only widens at the strained pant that he lets out. To add onto your satisfaction - you’ll tell yourself that he is trying his utmost hardest to not spill all over your grasp once more.

“Might as well have a taste while I’ve got you like this, eh?”

Your thumb nurses at your favourite vein. The groan he releases. The way his head hangs back. Oh, it should be a sin.

Lashes kiss at your cheeks as you shut your eyes to savour the taste of his cum that still stains your tongue. The taste that you think of an embarrassing amount of times when you should be working on your latest schemes in the middle of the night.

And yet -

To your displeasure. The taste remains a fantasy.

All you can let out is a yelp at the skid of the chair. A pressure circles your wrists and you meet the cold surface of metal before you can even so much as shoot your eyes open. Restrains especially designed for your beloved enemy now clamp around you instead.

Bound. To the very seat you so proudly hoisted him onto.

With that damned grin right above you.

“Might wanna work on your restraints next time, hermoso.”

Leather bites into your skin as a gloved hand grips at your jaw. Tight. It wrenches your head back so that your body is forced to arch at the back. Suddenly, you really regret not installing those leg restraints. For the way in which he stands between your thighs halts any motion to squeeze your legs shut.

A mechanical chime fills your ears when he presses at a button behind his jaw. The mask dissipates to reveal that stupidly handsome face you have longed for night after night. Longed to kiss. Longed to fuck to tears.

Of course the bastard is grinning. Who wouldn’t when they now have the switch on their enemy?

“Oh and you were so fuckin’ confident -” Alessio huffs a laugh. His head dips low and for the first time tonight - you taste the sweetness of his lips. Tinted with a flavour of coffee and cigarettes that you love so much. To have his lipstick stains on yours should be considered a blessing.

Alas, you are a bit too sour to care. A bit too wounded in pride at the realisation that you restraints failed.

“Fuck o- ah,”

You should have expected him to immediately stick a hand down your pants. Stroke at your own dick that has been begging for attention since you slipped into his lap.

Your lips press together as the mercenary wastes no time in undoing the fabric. A firm yank leaves you bare like him - wait — You pout at the realisation that he’d pulled his pants back up. How boring. You wanted to see the evidence of your handiwork.

Well. You had other issues to worry about. Especially when two of his fingers press through your lips and apply pressure to the back of your tongue.

A whine, deep and full of annoyance. At the reactions that you grant the man.

With the loss of control, your mouth all but falls open. Tongue sticks out, with a droplet of saliva connected to the tip of your tongue making its slow departure and landing on the seat.

“Ahhgh—”

“Tryin’ to speak huh? Yeah, good luck with that.” The mental roads his words lead you down. The feeling of his hand pumping away at you furiously.

There was no time to register that your hips were bucking against his hands, fucking into it like a rabbit. A harsh spank meets your ass cheek suddenly. His fingers pull out of your mouth and steal a loud squeal from the depths of your lungs.

Vibrations rush all the way down to your cock, and all you do is whine pathetically once more. You moan and spill into his hand. How helpless.

Your erotic noises slip out into the room, reverberating through the walls. You suck in a deep breath. Sigh shakily at the growing desperation to cum. Your throbbing cock is already sensitive enough from the previous sight of the mercenary’s emerald green eyes so full of lust and rolling back into his skull.

All because of you. He knew how arousing he was.

How he got to you.

Another grave thing you despised the man for is his incredible understanding of your body. It as though he knows you like the back of his hand. As if he’s known you for years now.

Well maybe the two of you have been messing around for a few months now — but still. Your cock weeps with pre-cum each and every time you lay your eyes on him. When he touches you. Everything felt like absolute bliss. As though you float in zenith.

Small grunts break through your throat, betraying the restraint that you so stubbornly attempt to put back into place.

“Stop fuckin’ holding the pretty noises back. Wanna hear ‘em.” He whispers into your ear. Only to grin at the look that you give him. It’s filthy. The pure look of spite and anger. Hatred.

You really are adorable aren’t you? So adorable. Earning your little prize of the pace speeding up. A rough hand squeezes hard at the base of your cock, while the burning tip of it is squeezed in between his thumb and index.

“F— Fuck! Offf— ngh, you don’t haah— hnghn, you— ah. Don’t deserve, a-ah-ny, of them.”

A single roll of his eyes is all you receive. Black eyelashes, feathery and heavy as his eyelids, brush against your left brow as Alessio leans down against your back. This follows a few rough and tight pumps.

With heavy and hot breath against your ear. His next sentence is what sends you into orgasm. “Yeah, you’ve always been fuckin’ boring. Gonna force the sounds out of you huh? Fuck you rough, show you that you’re the dumbest slut I’ve ever known.”

With a small tut, he shakes his head and continues: “I mean, come on. Can’t even make proper restraints. Look at you now. Where are you huh? You stupid whore.”

Dick cumming and crying, his hand clamps down tighter. Pulling hard a few times before he slaps the tip of it. It draws cries of pain and pleasure out of you with demanding touch. What a cruel, cruel man that holds your heart. What a cruel, blissful man.

You wish to splutter a slew of curses at him after your orgasm sizzles out - yet all that leaves your lips is a whine. The quiver of your lips. Similar to your pretty little hole that takes two of his fingers before you could so much as speak.

“Fuck. Little hole’s still so tight?” His grunt finds your ear. “With the way I fuck it? What a damn surprise.” Fingers curl with emphasis against that one, damned spot that has your eyes looping. What more can you do than buck into his hand and spill your pretty noises?

His degradation stings your heart. Pulses at your dick. It’s always been something of his that makes your heart race and your breath hitch. You always feel spurts of pre-cum when he begins his train of mockery, embarrassingly enough. Tonight is no exception.

Long fingers piston without mercy. Alessio’s free hand shoves your thighs up onto the arms of the chair so that he might excess you better. Your vulnerable position has him grinning. His eyes twinkle. His low whistle fills the air.

“Look at that baby - fuck what a sight.”

Fingers curl and torture the spot that makes your body quake. Curse him and all his experience. Sure you have been around a bunch yourself - but he is on something else.

His digits shallow. Fuck into you at a quick, messy pace that urges keens from the back of your throat. It does not take too long before you spill all over his hand once more. This time with a squirt to your cum that arches his brow. As though he is impressed.

The deep tuts that fill your ears tell you so as he slowly withdraws from your throbbing hole. All with a tilt of his head and that grin ever present.

Poor you. Left sprawled out on the chair. Tense and shaking. The thrums of pleasure still cascade through your body. It is what you hoped for out of tonight - but you cannot help the bitter taste at the back of you tongue. Oh if only your design on those restraints had been stronger.

For crying out loud. Even you crack the code within a few minutes. What a waste of material.

“Pobrecito,”

Alessio returns your words with a click of tongue and brings a thumb to stroke along your jaw. Your head is tilted up to meet his warm lips once again. This time you enjoy their taste and the heat that pours into your mouth. A delightful contrast to the chill of his tongue piercing that grazes your pink muscle.

The kiss almost distracts you from the familiar shuffle of fabric and buckle. You crack an eye open to peep at his skilful hands that already fumble with his pants.

A part of you wishes to chastise him. Hadn’t you already gotten those off? Such a waste of time.

Nevertheless, you play the pathetic little villain about to get their ass pounded into next week while he undoes his pants. Your thighs quiver - but you’ll let him believe it is from the way that his large hand grabs and squeezes at it. Rather than from your own excitement.

His lips trace your neck. His hands hoist at the hem of his black boxers - an opening.

Perfect.

Using the same window of opportunity, you stun him with an abrupt shove to a pressure point. A strike to his side with hands free of those disgraceful excuses of restraints. The motion surprises even you. A part of you still had doubt that you could sneak a fast one on him.

Yet when his wrists are in your grasp. His hair tight in your other and his body bent over the table you often hatch your newest schemes upon - well. You knew that you had struck luck.

A pant leaves you. A grin follows. The sight of his rapid blinks followed by wide emerald eyes makes victory return in bubbles through your heaving body.

“Well would you look at that,”

“Oh for fucks sakes.”

“What?” Your lips meet his ear. Your hips shove against his ass. “Got a bit too confident, querido?”

You are no fool to his strength. It’s what wounded you in the chair in the first place. Which is why you steered him to this very table where the rest of your tools and gear scatters about.

You act fast in the snatching of your newest device. You are not dubbed his enemy for nothing after all.

A nanite-infused metal that wills a clamp around his lower back. Magnetically fixing itself onto the table to trap your beautiful rival against it. All bent over and ready for you. Locked. Helpless.

There’s no stopping your hand from landing a spank on his bare ass. Now it is your turn to spit. Smear the mixture of your saliva and remanets of your cum on his awaiting hole. “Oh and here I thought you’d given me a challenge.” You sigh dramatically. Pressure builds around your hand in his hair and you promptly shove his face down further into the metal.

“Well aren’t you a fucking boaster.” The man mutters, as he clenches his fists and groans.

There is a particular wish to wrap his hands around your neck. Squeeze at it and watch the cross eyed look he knew you would give him. To shut you up. Take the smart words out of your mouth.

Alas, the cursed binds he now wields are stronger than the last pair. You always are prepared. After all.

Oh that sweet voice of his, annoyed that you won, all over again: “You bitter, Arias?” It’s all you can say, laughing out at sneer that befalls the man’s expression

Such a breath-taking face, with such a beautiful expression on it. But not prettier than the face you are about to make him have. Fucked out and at your mercy. You are very much planning on keeping him here, even when you are done fucking him. Until he figures out a way to break out of the binds.

“Why don’t you just lean back and enjoy hm? Might be a while until you even get out of here anyways.” The mock goes straight to his leaking dick. Promises of a night he know will leave him in a state of blissed-out numbness.

All he can do is limp his head into the table and groan when he feels two of your fingers mimic his earlier actions. Press through the ring of tightness and slowly, agonisingly stroke along the soft walls. You lean your head over him and tower his body. Flush him further into the metal as your fingers continue their strokes.

He’s always been a bit on the louder side when you have either your fingers or dick inside of him. Lips part and spill the prettiest of sounds that have your cock pulsing at the tip. The way your precum spills is a clear indicator of needing to be inside of him.

Soon, you withdraw your fingers when the need becomes too much. Here you are teasing him for being a slut - while you are here, leaking and eager to get inside of him.

Your hand reaches down to take your cock into your grasp. Slap the head a few times against his thigh. The noise of frustration he lets out has you chuckling. Before you ever so slowly begin to press in. Feel his walls tense. Tremble.

“Fucking hell,” you hiss through clenched teeth. “And you said I was tight? You’re fucking clenching baby,” you murmur. Before you give a few testing rolls of your hips against him.

His eyes flutter. Lips press together in a thin line as he squirms around in the slightest. His pants fan the table and you cannot help the evil desire to patronise him a few times.

Your fingers flex around his dark hair. Squeeze at the strands and yank his head up as you simultaneously snap your hips into him. Now it is your turn to grunt at the sight of ripples that ease over his ass at the impact. It causes you to continue the motion. Once. Twice. Shallow and hard until little whines ease out of his throat.

“What was that about being a whore?”

You huff out a laugh. The pride and taste of victory quickly gets to your head. The once shallow thrusts become tempered. Quick. Until you are fucking into him with an intensity that makes the table skid across the floor every now and then.

Of course your lips find purpose too. They trail heated kisses up and down his neck. Teeth join the mixture with rough bites to sate the burning desire that coils within the pit of your stomach. Every thrust plaps against his ass, creating the most beautiful of noises to pair with his choked moans and whines.

“F-Fu- hhngh - a-h - wait -”

“Wait? Oh you don’t want me to wait, hermoso. You want it harder.”

And so your hips begin to slam. Angle at that one spot that has him gasping. To further feed into the intensity - you yank on his hair and force an arch to his neck and back. Slip a hand down to grab onto his cock and give a few merciless pumps. As though you are not already doing his head in.

“Right?” Another snap. Another choked whine. “Right. Arias?”

It’s spoken through clenched teeth. The sudden anger of earlier and previous counters spill out of you like a tempered waterfall. You cannot stop the way that you begin pounding his tight little ass against the table. All while he sprawls out and drools. Unable to do anything but part his lips and whine every time you hit against his prostate.

It is quite funny. He’s got such the big mouth when he is here. Beneath you. Taking your cock as well as he always does; he’s nothing but a whining mess. One that drools all over you table. Attempts to strain his moans have long since died. All he can do is submit. To you and your manhandling.

You dig your thumb against his dick again. Swirl at it until you feel it spilling. The sensation huffs another laugh from your throat. Harsh and metallic, much like the table your poor enemy thumps against with each sharp movement.

“Cummin’ already? Where’s that mouth of yours? Huh?”

Another emphasis when you shallow your thrusts. Time them in slow yet hard pounds that have his body keening. His mouth falls open and his eyes flutter a little.

You tighten your grip. Tug on his hair. So that you might witness the pretty sight of his eyes rolling back and his black lips that part in a moan that riddles with all sorts of sinful melodies.

“Qu-Querriddooo - h-anh- fuck please -”

“Begging.” You aren’t sure whether the noise that leaves you is a snarl or a laugh. Maybe a combination of both as you feel your own orgasm begin to bubble. Judging from the wetness on your palm - you can only assume he’s squirted more than one.

Your teeth dig into his red ear. Despite shallow thrusts you pick up in pace again. Skin slapping against skin creates a sinful, high-tempo through your base as you draw climax after climax in only the cruel way that you can. Until he is shaking. Whimpering.

“Wh-What a pitiful - mess.” You grunt into his ear. It takes all of your restraint to bite back your own whine when you feel yourself cream him full. You draw back only to see the mess of your cum trickling down his thighs.

What a sight.

Another spank to his ass reverberates through the room and you waste no time pulling out to the tip. A grin settles itself on your lips at the sound of his whine. Needy despite his deep voice - albeit a little pitched from pleasure and overstimulation.

“Yeah? You miss it? Work for it.” Another spank to his thigh has him gulping. And oh, how pathetic does he look in his attempts of pushing his hips back. To take you back in and fuck himself onto your dick once more.

It’s a cruel want. One you cannot watch for too long. Not with the way that you leak. Throb. Beg to be back into him — and here you are. Mocking him for pleading with you.

With a tap to the metal band - the nanites disperse and scatter to his wrists instead. A synchronised motion flips him over onto his back and you use your strength coupled with his slack to shove his body into a sitting position.

The metal splits in half and forms cuffs around his wrists instead. They hold him firm to the table once more. So that you might bear witness to his red face. Teary eyes and messy hair. All while he stares up at you with panting, whining lips.

“Know you miss it, slut.” You mutter into his red ear. Grip at his side and press back into him. Balls smacking into the back of his thighs with heavy thrusts that you quickly bleed back into.

A combination of your groans fill the room. You reach back down to palm at his squirting dick while your lips pepper all sorts of affection along his neck. And bites along his collarbone.

He left such evident marks of his claim on you last time - why not return the favour?

“You feel that?” You huff. Your face draws near to his. Lips but a breath away as you press your tongue to his lower. Your groan vibrates through the both of you.

Your thrusts weigh out. Shake his body in a way that has a little - ah ah ah - leave his throat. All while you heave out a chuckle.

“Feel the way you take me? Like you were made for it? Yeah?”

Your lips tease a kiss at his. The way that his head chases after is too much to resist. You push your face closer and clam your lips onto his. Easing kiss of utter heat and feralness onto him. All while you fuck through both of your orgasms. Again and again - and again.

“P-Pretty boy - pretty, stupid boy - ngh.”

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stupidocupido · 5 months ago

Text

house of balloons

aegon ii targaryen x fem!reader | based on this hotd upper east side au

Like the conqueror he was named after, Aegon finds his treasures just to destroy them. Leaving them emotionally unsatisfied, drained of their self-respect, and covered in his cum. He sees it as a challenge, to make even the toughest woman beg for him. And eventually, they all do, because, in the end, all women are the same.

modern au; porn without plot; dom!reader, sub!aegon, blowjob, actual sex, hitting, degrading language; one shot; minors dni

I rewrote an old pwp I posted around 2020 for another character. Enjoy ;)).

All the lights in the office are off. Some eco-bullshit rules the MT came up with to save energy. The only thing that illuminates the place is the mixture of white and red city lights coming in through the windows. Ground to ceiling, the windows don’t open at the top floor, but they give a spectacular view over Kings Landing. From behind the desk, his father has a splendid view over the city, their ancestors worked hard for it after all.

Not a view Aegon currently can enjoy. His mouth is opened, and his tongue is being held between her fingers. It is drying up and when he tries to pull his tongue back, her nails dig into it. He tries to close his mouth, but she refuses to let him go. Instead, she grabs his jaw, pulling his mouth further open.

“You tell so many lies with this pretty tongue of yours—so much wasted energy. There are better things you can waste your energy and tongue on, oh Aegon. Didn’t I teach you that the last time?”

Aegon can only nod and it makes her finally let go. Her fingers are wet with his spit, which she swipes clean on his pants. Her hand stays there, her long nails dark and moving to the inside of his thighs.

“You’re a slow learner, I think you need to redo that particular class.” She sounds more annoyed than angry. He can feel his skin colour red, as he shamefully nods a bit too willingly. It is pathetic how her annoyed tone and scowl get him aroused.

Aegon never saw himself as the submissive type. He knows he is handsome and that it doesn’t take him a lot to talk women into his bed. It probably is a mixture of his arrogance, money, name and looks.

They all long to be dominated, to be domesticated. Women only need to be strong and independent when they open their legs to give birth to a child. They’re only good for three things: to be fucked, to make him a sandwich after and to be fucked again.

At least, that is how Aegon likes to profile himself to the world. The wild Targaryen son, the boy who is overlooked in favour of his older sister. With a father who probably gave him the token Targaryen name so he wouldn’t forget his unwanted son’s name. A mother who probably regrets not using a condom and siblings who are much more interesting and deserving of the Targaryen name than him.

And all those insecurities he masks by drinking, sniffing and fucking his monthly allowance away. Pretending he is the alpha male that boys who long for female attention talk about in their podcasts. Aegon knows, because sometimes they use him as an example in their boring click-bait conversations they post on TikTok.

“You’re so pathetic.” She says as she moves her hand off his thighs again. She pushes her index and middle finger against his lips. “So, like a dumb, mindless, uninspiring child, you need to be taught this one simple lesson again.”

Aegon knows what to do, he opens his mouth to lick her fingers. She pushes them in his mouth immediately. He sucks her fingers off like it’s her cunt. His tongue swirls around her fingers. His pleading eyes look up to her barely illuminated face. Then she pushes her fingers deeper into his mouth, her long nail scraping over the back of his tongue. It makes Aegon gag, his body moves with recoil.

Her laugh is cold and cruel. “Pathetic boy, you want to hit the back of my throat with your dick, but you can’t even take two of my fingers.”

She brings her wet fingers to her mouth, licking Aegon’s spit off her digits. She makes sure to look him straight in the eye as she does so. Aegon had been a very bad boy, telling everyone at the party she had been his latest conquest. When the both of them know the only one who gets pillaged here is the one with the growing erection.

As an intern at the publishing company the Targaryen’s own, her reputation is at risk. She is a serious girl, a hard-working girl. she is everything Aegon is not. Perhaps that is why he keeps on coming back.

“Can you repeat rule number one to me?” Her hand strokes his right thigh. She leans in closer to his face, wanting to make sure she doesn’t miss his words.

“No one will ever know about what happens behind closed doors,” Aegon mutters, looking away from her piercing eyes.

Her stroking stops, and she pushes her nails into his pants. “And which rule did you break, my stupid little boy?”

Her lips are almost touching his when she speaks the words. Aegon swallows the pain that comes with her nails into his skin away. “Rule number one.”

She backs away from him again, her lips curved into a smile that does not reach her eyes.

“Do you know what they do with boys who break rules?”

Both her hands are on his belt, loosening it. Aegon does not dare to look away from her face. They barely did a thing (they didn’t even kiss, for fucks sake!) but he is so turned on already. He shakes his head, pretending he does not know what happens when he breaks her rules.

“No? Well, let me tell you then.” She unzips his pants, her hand immediately sliding into his opened trousers. With her palm she rubs over his erection, scraping the fabric of his black boxers over the sensitive skin.

“They are punished.”

Aegon his head falls back because of her torturous movements. “Yes, please punish me.” He is shocked by the words that so easily fall off his lips. He is shocked by the desperate tone, he is shocked by the want he feels in his body.

He wants to feel her skin against his, but at the same time, he enjoys this building up a little bit too much. Her degrading words made him angry and ashamed at the same time. He is ashamed, that he, the famous Aegon Targaryen, so easily gets walked over. Walked over by a woman even! He is ashamed for liking it so much and feels ashamed he wants to please her. He does not do the pleasing, he is the one who usually is pleased.

Her hand slowly wanders into his underwear, her fingers stroke his pubes. Aegon mentally scolds himself for not shaving. But all his worrisome thoughts disappear when her hand slowly strokes his shaft.

“Such a good boy you are, at least you remembered rule number two.” Her thumb finds his head, circling around it, making her and his skin coated with pre cum. “Manners are what keeps the world spinning after all.” Aegon wants to argue and tell her that strong and rich men keep the world spinning. But for once he is smart and keeps his mouth shut. He knows she’s not happy with him, and he does not like it when she becomes cruel.

“How shall I punish you tonight? Will I make you come so many times you’ll remember who the real conqueror is? Or will I give you nothing at all?” Her hand curls around his cock, her nails pressed harshly into the flesh. Aegon lets out a pained yelp, tears well up in his purple eyes.

“Please don’t, I’ll be good.”

“If only you had thought about being ‘good’ sooner.” She does not loosen her grip, on the contrary, she presses her nails deeper into his sensitive flesh. Aegon his cry is filled with agony, he is afraid she will draw blood.

“I am sorry, I promise I will never do it again.” His voice comes out desperate, he hates himself for being this weak. The humiliation of it colouring his cheeks a rosy tint. She lets go of him and movies off him. Aegon resist the urge to touch where it hurts, instead he watches how she lowers herself. Her bare knees hit the carpet. She pulls his pants down to his ankles, his legs forced apart by her hands.

“No, you will indeed never do it again. Or this will be the last time you’ll be in my mouth.”

She kisses his upper thigh first. Her lips hit the spot where she had been hurting him before.

Her left elbow leans upon his knee, her cleavage pushed against his legs, as she leans forward to touch him again.

Aegon watches how her hand moves down from the tip to the base. His skin is still a bit sore, but Aegon forgets about the pain when her lips are wrapped around his head.

Aegon brings his hands to her head. His neck snaps back, and his eyes close, as he revells in the feeling her warm, wet mouth brings him. But the feeling doesn’t remain there for too long, because only seconds later she releases him from her mouth again.

“Don’t move, or it will be over.” She warns

She takes him slowly, her eyes locked with his. His cock is shiny with spit, her low moans vibrating against his skin.

Aegon really hates it when people are loud chewers. Hates the sound of people eating apples in the office, and despises the sounds girls make when they ‘seductively’ try to suck their iced coffees through a straw. He dislikes it so much it gives him goosebumps and makes him want to snap out to the ones making the disgusting eating sounds.

But the sounds that are produced as she sucks him off, are sounds that no matter how nasty they are, will never annoy him.

He feels like a true king, the way how her head moves up and down between his legs. He will never be able to sit in front of his father’s desk again without remembering what is happening right now. And it feels so good, the way she takes him deeper and deeper. Her tongue slid against the sensitive skin where her nails were before.

His hips buck up, pushing his cock deeper into her mouth. He can feel it hit the back of her throat. The gagging sound she makes, makes him moan.

She presses her nails harshly into his thigh, changing his moan into a yelp of pain. For a moment, Aegon almost forgot who the real power had. Her teeth scrape against his cock as a final warning.

She only sucks the tip now, her tongue swirling around it, to let it pop out of her mouth only a second later. She looks up to his face, brows furrowed. “I told you not to move, Aegon.” The way she says his name makes him feel like a small child and he hates it.

He almost wants to cry when she stands up, ignoring his cock completely. He was so close to coming, painfully close. The tip of his cock is red and leaking with precum. “Not fair.” Aegon groans. “I was so close to making your mouth into a daycare.”

She ignores his disgusting joke. “Why did you break the rule, Aeg?” Her hands move beneath her dress, pulling her panties down in one motion.

Truth be told, he did not like how the other men were talking about her. He was not sure if it was him being possessive, or his ego that needed stroking. There is nothing better than letting dull people know you’re having (or fucking) what they want.

“I guess I didn’t like the way they talked about you.” Her eyes grow larger after his sentence, she clearly did not expect this answer. She climbs on his lap, her hands hold his face, her thumbs stroke over his burning cheeks. Her fingers move into his hair, to the back of his head. This moment feels strangely intimate, and it makes him more uncomfortable than her degrading words do.

“What were they saying?”

Aegon swallows.

“Filthy things only I am allowed to say.”

She kisses him for the first time this night and Aegon is grateful for it. He tastes himself in her mouth, her lips still wet with spit and him. He is fully aware of the fact she’s not wearing panties. Now her dress had ridden up her legs, he can finally feel her warm and wet core against him. Oh, how he wants to be inside her, to feel her cunt clench around his cock when he takes some of his control back. His painful erection hits her leg, as she moves up to deepen the kiss.

“Let me make it up to you.” He is almost willing to beg for it at this point, his hands stroking her back in an attempt to convince her he deserves it. “Please, I want to make you feel good.” She laughs hard at this. “The only thing you want is to fuck me. To spill inside me and to go back to your ‘dominant’ self after.”

She of course is right, but Aegon is too desperate and horny to fight her. “Please, I think I learned my lesson. I want you so bad, please, I would do anything.” She grabs his shoulder, leaning a bit back. The hand that is not holding onto his shoulders moves between her legs.

She’s touching herself, Aegon can’t see what exactly she’s doing beneath her dress, but he knows he wants to be the one to do it. “Anything you say?” Her head tilted to the right, her eyes finding his purple ones.

“Anything.”

She loosens up his tie, pulling the green silk fabric from his neck. His mother had made him wear it, said it belongs to his father.

“Hold your hands together.” Aegon raises his brow. “What?” She slaps his tie against his chest. “Do you want to fuck me or not Aegon?” There, she does it again. Saying his name like he is a piece of trash she needs to clean up. He does what he is told, pushing his wrists against each other.

She ties his hands together with the green silk. Making sure he cannot touch her and control what is about to happen.

She sinks down on him, her skin slapping against his. Aegon’s groans are filling up the office, as she sets the pace. Finally, he is inside her, but he can’t move, he can’t do anything. He is completely at her mercy. He hates that he loves it, to be commanded and tied up by her. She takes him so well, every inch of him filling her as if she was made to do so.

Her right hand is around his throat, pushing his head back. He is so stimulated, so embarrassingly close to his release already.

“You feel so good, baby.” His voice is low, and his eyes are closed.

“You better don’t come before I do.” She says then, but it is too late. Her words make him give in to his release.

In a way it is to punish her, Aegon hates that he likes what she does to him. Hates she is the one who can dominate him. So he climaxes, curses falling from his mouth. Her eyes narrowed, as his hips thrust upwards in the last moments of his aftershock.

He expects her to pull him out, to slap him maybe. Instead, she keeps on moving, in a frantic, rough manner.

It hurts so much, his soft flesh being ridden like this. Her moans are loud, drowning out his moans of pain. “The fuck you thought, coming before I came?” She slaps him.

“Shut up, I hate it when you act all silly and hurt when you get what you deserve.” Aegon his head falls back, feeling a bit foolish for liking the pain.

And when she finally comes, Aegon is panting as loud as she is. She kisses him on the mouth when she finally allows him to slip out of her. “I think you learned your lesson now.”

He can’t help but smile, for the game is over. They can go back to who they are now.

“Keep fucking me like that and I’ll tell father to hire you,” Aegon says. “And when I take over, you can be my assistant.”

He wants to fuck her on every surface in this office. Fuck her against the window while they watch the cars drive by. Fuck her on the plush couch his father always makes him wait on. Make her suck him off while he has online meetings, and let her ride his face while she makes important calls.

“Assitant?” She says in a mocking tone, destroying his fantasies. “I am made to lead, Aegon. Never to serve.”

She loosens up the tie, freeing his hands. She puts her panties back on and straightens her dress. “Clean up your face, it’s covered in my lipstick.” She advises him before leaving him alone.

Aegon grins as he watches her leave, oh, this is just the beginning.

@laedeviour @aegonswife

#aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #hotd aegon #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #ueshotd #aegon targaryen smut

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nightmare-foundation · 6 months ago

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Honestly it lowkey annoys me whenever people say that Michael has 'very little personality' outside of hunting down his father.

N like- on the surface, that seems true, but like. If you look deeper, that's... not really true?? Because there's a LOT that actually speaks to his character, but you have to be willing to catch onto the connections his character has

Like, for example, Michael has a very straightforward way of speaking. He's dry and sarcastic ("They thought I was you... [laugh]"), has a foreshortened sense of the future (the drawing of a gravestone in the security logbook), not to mention the dialogue of foxybro in fnaf 4. He doesn't beat around the bush, but he's bitter and dry and sarcastic. Even as an old man, his anger and cynicism towards Freddy's shows in his drawings, but he has a sense of humor (the exotic butters and casual bongos referenced in the logbook, not to mention the silly drawings), plus he's sentimental (as said before, exotic butters and casual bongos). Not to mention he's stubborn as shit, given he keeps coming back to Freddy's, even after 30 whole years.

A lot of people also really like to write Michael off as being stupid, for... some reason. The games really say otherwise; the fact that he tampers with the animatronics regularly, figured out what his father did and what happened to Elizabeth in less than a week, freed the dead kids, helped make FFPS and ran a business, likely Also made the fnaf 3 location too, knew what was gonna happen to him in SL (pretty clear given the fact you can ignore Baby's directions on the last night), can manage several animatronics at once throughout an entire night...

Michael is very clearly Really Fucking Smart. Smart enough that I'm willing to bet that was one of the reasons why William sent him to the SL bunker. Michael is FAR from an idiot, and the FNAF movie even proves this further! He's SCARILY smart!

There's a lot more too; him using a red foxy mask speaks a lot to his character too. Red is often used to denote everything from passion to anger (yknow, 'seeing red' being a term for when you're blind with rage), and he wears it the entire time he bullies CC. It's not just a literal mask, it's figurative too; Michael puts up a mask of anger, he pretends to be this scary bully. The cruelty isn't real, Michael is just the scapegoat and he's acting out (very very common).

Also, Michael is 100% who you play as in fnaf 4 based on the movement, and who rubs away in Midnight Motorist. CC is the type of kid to freeze up, curl up into a ball and cry when he's scared, as seen several times in fnaf 4. It wouldn't make sense for him to suddenly turn around and start running around, or fighting back. It's very Michael to run around, constantly looking around, or to break out and run away.

Another note on Michael's character is that he's associated with Foxy. The Funtimes are clearly modeled after the Aftons (Ballora and Baby are, why wouldn't the rest match CC (Freddy) and Michael (Foxy)?), and using that we can gleam some parts of Michael from FT Foxy (since William clearly was trying to mock and make fun of him with the angsty teen voice). FT Foxy is a performer; he's dramatic, he's vicious, attacking even when he 'shouldn't', and wants his stage solely to himself.

This fits Michael; Michael put on an act of viciousness and cruelty, always attacking when you least expected it. So it makes sense that Michael, too, is a performer, and FFPS hammers this in using the business bear. Again, the mask represents Michael acting, pretending, and it wouldn't be the first time an Afton would pretend (William, Elizabeth, and to an extent, CC). The rest of the Aftons are also theatrical and dramatic, so again, this tracks. He's also represented as one of those hand puppets in the ffps alleyway poster, something used to ACT.

And again, with Foxy, we can gleam that Michael likely is also a sort of 'leader' figure, since Foxy has been depicted as not just a pirate captain, but also as a Ringleader. This also tracks, not just bc the Aftons have a circus theme, but Michael is the eldest of his siblings, and thus the de facto 'leader'. He's the first to act, to put things into motion when everything 'ends'. Foxy is also, well, a fox, which are depicted as cunning and intelligent, which only lends credence to Michael being intelligent.

It's also implied that Michael... doesn't really care about people who Aren't his family?? Whether that's by blood or not, he doesn't care abt others who isn't his family. This is implied by the fact that he only cared about freeing Elizabeth, showing absolutely No care about the Funtimes despite them clearly being sentient. Not to mention the lawsuits he regularly gets in FFPS, or the state Fazbears Frights is in in fnaf 3. And, judging by Henry's final speech, he and Michael just. Don't seem to talk At All. At the very least they definitely don't communicate since Henry assumed Michael wanted to die (which is left Very Ambiguous).

Honestly this doesn't even BEGIN to get into everything that the Glitchtrap Michael theory says about his character that also hammer in all of these traits Even Further.

And like. Michael is SOOO much like William when you put all of this into perspective. Like, they are SIMILAR similar, but differ in ways that are important. Michael is a performer, an actor, he doesn't care about anyone outside of his family, he's stubborn as fuck, he's smart as hell, he's sarcastic and dry, etc.

He has SO. MUCH. CHARACTER. You just have to dig a little- this is ALL gleamed from the games and Security Logbook. There's more if you believe he's Glitchtrap- which he very likely is.

Just... it's nuts. He's such an intriguing character, he's not perfect and he's morally gray, yet people love to dumb him down to "hehe sad uwu arsonist zombie boy who's also Stupid"

Please just let Michael be a problematic old man (he was born in the 60s ffs, he's almost in his 60s by the time ffps rolls around).

#felix (host)#fnaf #michael afton #glitchtrap Michael theory #fnaf analysis #mike schmidt #five nights at freddy's #fnaf theory #william afton #elizabeth afton #the crying child #cc afton #evan afton #henry Emily #let him be a grumpy old man please

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bluebasie · 2 months ago

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Hashira Character Analysis Sexuality head canons!!

Since the canon sexualities of the Hashiras were never confirmed and will likely never be confirmed, I have taken it upon myself to come up with a sexuality head canon for each of them based on scenes from the anime, manga, and fan books, etc. This is a pretty large task and analyzing every piece of Demon Slayer media is a huge task so please forgive me if I miss a piece of information that could be interpreted as information suggesting a character’s preference for love! Keep in mind that these are just personal head canon that I wanted to share, and I will include some non-canon ships to show cases of interest. Also, disclaimer, I will not be adding a head canon for Muichiro because I genuinely don't know about him, and I don't think there is enough information about his character loving another and I also don't feel comfortable speculating about his sexuality given his age. But anyways, I will be using a series of quotes, scenes, and situations to come up with each potential sexuality for each Hashira and some may be more detailed than others due to a surplus of scenes or personal bias causing me to pay a little more attention to my favorites. Sorry in advance but I'll try and make it not as noticeable!

Starting with the Water Pillar, Tomioka Giyuu!

Starting off the bat, I really don't think that Tomioka has an interest in women. Let me explain. A huge example of this can be seen in Tomioka’s attitude towards a relationship between Shinazugawa Sanemi and Kocho Shinobu. From season one we can see Kocho’s attempts and friendship with Tomioka and just how unreceived they are despite Kocho's adamant insistence to the point of annoyance. While one could say that he just doesn't like her, it is mentioned during his soba eating contest with Tanjiro in the anime that he definitely does worry about her. Despite this he treats her like an annoyed older brother with an annoying younger sister who likes to pretend they don't care about each other but actually do. Regardless of this dynamic, Tomioka has made it clear he does not always enjoy her forced company, and he has clearly shown a reluctance to try and form a deeper bond with her. On the other hand, while Tomioka is known for being socially avoidant, he actively tries to befriend Shinazugawa where he genuinely breaks his emotionless mask that he's had on for years at the thought of closeness with Shinazugawa. He is shown to genuinely have a deep fascination with Sanemi as seen in his conversation with Tanjiro in the Light novels where they talk about Sanemi and a situation where he asked Giyuu out to eat and he rejected him because he had just eaten. After understanding why Shinazugawa had gotten angry afterwards, he smiles at the thought of Sanemi wanting to eat with him. There is also the fact that in the fanbook when it shows what each hashira thinks of each other for mitsuri it says that he thinks she shows too much skin implying that he thinks it unsafe for her without regard to the sexual implications of exposing her chest and legs due to the skirt. Also, it is said in an extra chapter looking at what each character was doing after the war, it is said that Giyuu and the Uzui family frequent the hot springs which if you didn't know are common in Japan to soak in without clothes. When in the panel at the hot springs it can be seen that Giyuu sits alone away from all of them. This again shows a small glimpse into his potential disinterest in women. Then there is the entire Sabito situation. While it is not said in Demon slayer that Giyuu and Sabito were romantically involved, it is implied throughout giyuu’s entire character story of the impact that Sabito and his death has had and continued to have on his life for years. Giyuu’s interest and want for closeness for both Sanemi and Sabito throughout the Franchise shows his preference for relationships with men rather than women in general. Because of this I would say that my head canon for Giyuu would be that he is definitely a gay man. I don't really think he’s bi just because of his lack of interest expressed in women at all in the entire franchise so I think he is exclusively attracted to men. However is implied in the final chapter that he had a ‘descendent’ implying that he ended up with a woman, he has other family as seen when we was taken away by extended family after his sister’s death and I frankly don't think it’s in character for Giyuu to find and leave a woman pregnant within the three to four years he has left with the demon mark seeing as he has little to no natural charisma and social skills as well as the fact that it would be terrible to leave a woman alone to raise a baby by herself with no close family in the 1920’s but I digress. Overall, I think that based on character interactions my final head canon for Giyuu is that he is gay.

Now onto my girl the Insect Pillar, Kocho Shinobu.

Throughout the franchise it is seen that Kocho seems to have no romantic attraction to any characters in the entire manga, anime, etc. She also is shown to have no want or need for romantic connection due to her priorities is not only demon slaying but also running a hospital and planning her own death after being blinded by the idea of revenge on the demon who had killed her sister. It is also seen that her character largely revolves around family unlike Giyuu’s character revolving around friendship/love for others. Shinobu’s motives and relationships revolve around her sisters, Kanae and Kanao, as well as Aoi and the butterfly triplets. She also seems to hold a connection with Inosuke as a sort of mother figure. Clearly, we can see that Shinobu places a higher emphasis on family, including found family, which shows her character prioritizing care for platonic relationships. She also seems to not care for romantic relationships for the future because she never planned a future for herself with her plan being to sacrifice herself to kill Douma to avenge Kanae. It is clearly shown that her priorities lay in the family she has collected over the years and creating justice for the family she has lost including her sister and the fact that her reasoning for becoming a demon slayer was the impact of her parents' death. Overall Shinobu does not have any romantic feelings for others being too clouded in her mission to kill the one who had killed her sister, and she never planned to find a partner one day due to the fact that she never planned for another day after the infinity castle. Because of her preference for platonic relationships, lack of interest in romance, and opposition to sexualizing herself as seen when she burns the original female uniform given to her, I think she is aromantic asexual. This head canon is very dear to me despite not actually being aroace myself because of her serious priority to her family that just isn't seen often in shonen media with girls who are never shown to be interested in romantic love and instead have their own story and goal to focus on. If you couldn't tell at this point, I really love Shinobu’s character.

Now I'm moving onto the Sound Pillar, Uzui Tengen.

To start us off with the obvious, Uzui is polygamous. This is cannon and not a head canon so we can add that as a fact so moving on to beyond his polygamous status I guess I am mainly interested in if he is only attracted to women or also men. Right off the bat, purely based on speculation, I would say that he would be open to something like that just due to his openness to ideas that were not common during this time period or in his communities as well as his preference for the extravagant, in his words flashy. This can not only be seen with his polygamous relationship but also with his insistence that his wives put their own lives before others which was practically unheard of in the shinobi communities that they all had grown up in. While this took a long time to adjust to for Suma, Makio, and Hinatsuru, Uzui was open to this new life priority seeing as he was the one who had come up with it. He is also seen to be open to multi-gendered bathing in the hot springs with his wives and Giyuu which could further the point that he has no preference for gender or things like that and that he just wants to have a flashy time. One final thing that could possibly point towards his lack of preference could maybe be the fact that he puts a lot of emphasis on his looks. While during this time period men usually didn't wear makeup, jewels, paint their nails, and wear shiny clothes, Uzui disregards social norms to be the best self that he can so this could possibly point towards his lack of care about love between the same gender because those things just would not matter to him. Because of his supposed ‘lack of care for gender’, I definitely think he likes both genders, but I also do think he has a slight preference for women for whatever reason due to the fact that he has three wives obviously. For Uzui’s final head canon, I would say that he’s bisexual with a slight preference for women.

Now going on to the Flame Pillar, Rengoku Kyojuro.

There also isn't much to see about relationships between Rengoku and other characters but based on his dedication to his family's traditions through Hashira lineage, breathing style, and estate, I do believe that if Rengoku was to stay alive that he would have wanted to find a wife and settle down at some point like his family before him. He is shown to love being around his mother and taking care of his brother so I can definitely see him growing to be a huge family man who just loves his wife a lot. There was a small quip in a fan book where Rengoko refers to Tomioka as handsome, but it honestly just felt like a supportive bro thing where he doesn't feel ashamed to compliment his friends. Rengoku’s relationship with mitsuri could be somewhat evidence that he does not feel much attraction for women but obviously he's not just going to be into every woman he sees, and he clearly views mitsuri as a younger sister. This only proves his family man status even more with his care to those who are younger than him. Due to his constant support of others and traditions of a traditional family I feel confident in saying that Rengoku is the number one Straight ally. He would totally be supportive if any of the Hashira ended up getting together with a person who is the same gender as themselves.

Moving on to the Wind Pillar, Shinazugawa Sanemi.

Shinazugawa is one of the characters who have seemed to show interest, whether romantic or other, but interest nonetheless in both men and women. It is seen in the fan books and the light novels that he was interested in Kocho Kanae when she was alive stating that being with her made him remember his mover and his infatuation with Tomioka over the span of the series with him getting distracted by the sound of his voice, getting visibly worked up over even the smallest of actions that he does, encouraging him in the war, and being seen having a close relationship after the final war arc. Sanemi is shown to be a very expressive individual who feels a lot of feelings towards others and some of those feelings I would say are feelings of attraction, infatuation, and even love. Sanemi is also shown to be very defensive of his feelings as seen when Tanjiro walks in on his and Tomioka’s fight which is seen to be very unguarded and raw with it being a direct expression of everything Sanemi was feeling and everything he wanted to express. However, when Tanjiro views this exchange Sanemi immediately jumps to the conclusion that Tanjiro was ‘spying on them’ as if this fight was meant to be hidden and private not for the eyes or knowledge of anybody besides Tomioka. It seems to me that Shinazugawa clearly knows what he feels about Giyuu and he is scared of it and tries to hide it from others and also himself. He ends up losing this guard after the war though when it is seen that he goes out to eat lunch with Giyuu after sorting out the miscommunication between them over the years. Because of his intense feelings towards people who are both genders, I would say that he is definitely bisexual. I don't know if he has a preference and what preference he would lean towards if he had one but for now I'm just going to say that he is bisexual.

Moving on to the Stone Pillar, Himejima Gyomei.

This one is pretty simple, I think. Gyomei is a Buddhist monk so that means he is celibate. This essentially means that he would not have a romantic partner or have children in an attempt to forward his path to enlightenment. He has never shown romantic interest in anyone throughout the span of the series, so I think it's safe to say that he is Unlabeled? I don't want to say that he is aroace because I don't know if he has romantic feelings but just doesn't act on them or if he doesn't have them at all, but I guess it would make sense if he was on the aroace spectrum. I think either aroace or unlabeled would work here and are headcanons that would make a lot of sense.

Next, we have the Love Pillar, Kanroji Mitsuri.

In connection to her breathing style, Mitsuri is a very expressive and loving person to people of all types. This does also include women as well. In her character introduction in the first season this is explicitly shown where after every character introduction of the other Hashiras Mitsuri would include a small quip about some words of admiration, she has for them including Shinobu. While Kanroji did join the Demon slayers for a husband, I think that she actually does have love for everyone regardless of gender and she just really wants a husband specifically because of social norms and the fact that she wants somebody who is stronger than her and while there are very few men who are stronger than her there are few women who fit that standard as well. Other than that, I don't think that the LOVE Hashira really has a preference for gender, and she just feels a small attraction towards everybody. I think that she could be pansexual or at least under the bisexual umbrella if anybody believes she has a preference towards one gender, but I think she just feels a good amount of love for everybody and everything with a high surplus for Iguro and therefore pansexual!

Finally, we've got the most difficult to understand in my opinion, The Serpent Hashira, Iguro Obanai.

Iguro has got quite the history with a distaste towards women due to the trauma he had endured during his childhood. His lack of romantic affection had been carried with him for his entire life until meeting Mitsuri when he fell head over heels for her. Iguro’s love for mitsuri has frankly made it pretty difficult to understand or come up with a headcanon due to his disinterest in literally every one besides her. I don't think he would ever love another woman or show affection to another man which makes it difficult to come up with something. I guess I could say that he is unlabeled because he literally does not love anybody and has never loved anybody besides Mitsuri before. I could also say that he is Asexual because as seen in his entrapment, the fascination the snake demon had of him, her watching him at night, and his family overloading him with overwhelming food he did not want. This could all be seen as an allegory for sexual assault and/or grooming as a child and that might have caused him to want to avoid anything sexual and therefore I think it could be very possible that he could at least be under the asexual umbrella.

That was a lot of writing so thank you if you read this far! Keep in mind that these are head canons and if you disagree on anything please don't start a war in the comments or anything. Please. Anyways I would love to hear your own head canons and what you think of this small character analysis!

#demon slayer #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #kny hashira #giyuu tomioka #shinobu kocho #tengen uzui #rengoku kyojuro #sanemi shinaguzawa #gyomei himejima #mitsuri kanroji #obanai iguro #sanegiyuu #obamitsu #headcanon #sexuality

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aanoia · 1 month ago

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It's Okay

For my lovely mutual, @loving-and-dreaming. I do hope the universe will become gentle with your heart. My best wishes.

Sirius Black x reader Words; 1600 (roughly) Warnings; nothing too explicit, just some tough things I kinda based this off of how I've been feeling lately, so yeah it's a personal one. I strongly encourage everyone to listen to Call Your Mom by Noah Kahan (I like the one with Lizzy McAlpine in it). It's very much the same vibe as this fic, and it's a great song overall. I love all of you, and I hope you are all doing well. "Don't let this darkness fool you. All lights turned off, can be turned on." - Call Your Mom by Noah Kahan

Normally, there's a smile gracing her beautiful face. The burdens that weigh down on her shoulders tend to be invisible, hidden by the bounce in her step and the sparkle in her eyes. Hiding behind that mask of happiness has been all she's ever known, and it's become a part of her. She's happy, and bright, and bubbly, and kind, and perfect.

But when the curtains close, and the lights are off, and she's alone in her room, it's different. Her face falls, her shoulders slump, and deep sighs leave her lips. She lays motionless on her bed, staring at the ceiling of dead hopes and dreams. She'll stay up for hours, finally allowing herself to not pretend. Sometimes she cries, sometimes she's numb. It's a routine she's never broken.

Even when she's not alone, and has a boy curled up into her side, sleeping soundly. Her hand rests on his long, black hair as she stares. She'd never let him know about this - the smile only disappears once he's asleep. He's already dealing with so much, she could never add onto that.

However, there's comes a point where everyone must break. They must collapse under the weight of the world. And no matter how hard she tries, there's nothing she can do. She’ll run out of smiles, drag her feet, and stare at the ground with sunken eyes. The girl behind the mask, must be allowed to breathe.

Sirius gently jabs the girl's side, a teasing grin on his lips. “What’s up with you, love? Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?”

She doesn't react to him, too busy looking into her book. She's not even reading, only blankly staring at the words. Her a dull aching behind her eyes, and her throat seemed to be closing, making it difficult to breathe.

Sirius frowns, glancing over at James and Remus worriedly. James shrugs a little, unsure of what to do as Remus nervously bites his cheek. Obviously, something is wrong with his best friend, but he doesn't know what to do. This is so out of character for her… she's never not been happy.

James clears his throat, reaching over to flatten the book against the table, “we not good enough for you, anymore?” He questions lightly, the soft look on his face being a telltale sign of his joking demeanor.

She clenches her jaw, pulling her book against her chest as she stands from her seat. “Would you lot stop bothering me?’ She snaps. “Can't you understand I'm trying to read?” She doesn't leave them time to answer, instead turning and walking off.

The farther she gets, the faster she walks. Until she's in a jog, fighting back the tears blurring her vision. She eventually make it to an empty corridor, and leans against the wall, shutting her eyes tightly. A few tears leak out, and she has to shove her arm against her mouth to muffle her sobs.

Guilt slowly creeps into her. She didn't mean to snap. She didn't mean to take out her internalized anger onto the people she loves most. She's burning the bridges she desperately wanted to stay strong.

Lily leans over, peering over her shoulder, “psstt- Y/n- are you sure we chop the fluxweed stem into small bits and not big ones?” She asks quietly, her eyes training on the Professor so as to not get caught.

“Why would it be big chunks?” She says rather harshly, glaring at the ginger girl.

Lily stares at her for a moment, dumbfounded. Worry fills her eyes, “hey… are you okay?”

“Why wouldn't I be?” She asks, quieter this time, her voice retreating.

“I don't know… you're acting differently. Do you want to talk?” Lily asks softly, not caring about the fluxweed stems anymore.

“I'm fine, Lily. There's nothing to talk about.” She goes back to her potion, making it obvious she's not interested in talking anymore.

Lily makes eye contact with Sirius from across the classroom, and she silently asks what's wrong with the girl beside her. Sirius, a defeated look on his features, shrugs. He truly doesn't know what's wrong with his girl. She won't talk to him and it hurts him.

Once the class is free to go, she makes quick work of packing her things. Lily leaves with James, exchanging a few words with Sirius. The boy nods softly, promising Lily he'll find out what's wrong and take care of his girl.

He makes it to her side and gently takes her bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He offers his hand to the girl, a soft, comforting smile gracing his lips.

“Let's go on a walk, yeah?” He asks quietly, his tone making it less of a question and more of a statement.

She sighs softly and nods, taking his hand. “Okay.” She says, and it comes out in a whisper.

He squeezes her hand softly and leads her out of classroom. The air outside is crisp and chilly, and the tips of leaves were turning red. The beginnings of autumn were coming to life, and it was one of the most beautiful times to live at Hogwarts and walk about the grounds.

She tries to focus on the crunch of leaves beneath her feet as they walk quietly. Sirius stays silent, glancing at her every once in a while. His heart ached for her, he just wanted to know what was wrong and how he can help.

After a while, he finally decides to speak up. “My love?”

She hums quietly, her eyes trained on the grass.

He gently rubs circles into her hand with the pad of his thumb. “A few of us have noticed you acting differently. We were wondering… I was wondering, what's wrong?”

She sucks in a breath, her face twisting in subtle displeasure, a telltale sign of a lie. “What? I'm just fine.”

Sirius sighs, halting his steps and turning to the girl. He takes ahold of her free hand, squeezing them both. “Love, I know you're not… I know you. Something is up. You can tell me anything, you know?”

She bites her cheek, and ignores the faint metallic taste. “I swear, I'm alright. I've just been tired lately, can't sleep.”

“I've said that one before.” He says quietly, momentarily dropping one of her hands to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “and d’you know what you did?”

She can't meet his eyes as she shrugs carelessly. “don't know.” she mumbles.

“You slept with me every night and made sure I was asleep, ‘til I finally fessed up that I wasn't really okay.” He frowns softly. “Baby, you don't have to be okay all the time. Not with anyone, but ‘specially not with me.”

Her lip wobbles slightly, but she refuses to break. “I'm okay, Siri. I swear.” but her voice gives it away. The small crack in the middle of the sentence telling Sirius all he needs to know.

He pulls her into a tight hug, his arms wrapped securely around her shoulders. She subconsciously buries her face into his shoulder, and the facade breaks. The fabric of clothes are quickly stained with tears, and his body muffles her soft sobs.

He sways slightly, rubbing her back as he quietly whispers to her. “Shhh, I'm here, love. It's okay if you aren't okay.”

“I'm sorry,” she manages to choke out between sobs, clinging tightly onto him.

“Don't ever apologize for that.” He tells her sternly, but softly. “Never.”

She nod wordlessly, finally allowing herself to just cry. She never realize how comforting it is to cry in the arms of the man you love. How sweet it is to be held and given permission to not be perfect and to feel bad things.

Slowly, her cries die down, and she just stands there in his embrace, sniffling softly. Sirius slowly pulls away enough to look at her. He gently wipes any stray tears from her cheeks, and then holds her face between his large hands.

“Baby, it really is okay to not always be perfect and happy. You can be sad. You can cry. You can be angry, and you can explode. Just don't bottle it up, love. We all feel that shit. We all do.” He says gently, looking deeply into her eyes. “Prongs, and Lils, and Moony, and Wormtail- Everyone. Especially me.”

She nods a little, her eyes glassing over again. “Jus’ don't wanna annoy you… you've got so much going on already- don't wanna add onto it.” She mumbles, embarrassed.

Sirius frowns, “You're not a burden, Y/n. You're feelings are not a burden. I love you, with everything I have. When you're happy, when you're sad, when you're mad. I love you, however you come.”

She nods, a few more tears falling. “I love you too. A freaking ton.”

He smiles softly, diligently wiping her tears. “I love you a freaking ton.” He kisses her forehead softly. “Do you wanna talk about what's been bothering you, baby?”

She shakes her head a little bit, sniffling. “Can we talk about it… later? Tonight?”

He nods, “Of course. Anytime, love. Just don't hide from me anymore, yeah? I wanna be here for you, just like you are for me.”

She nods, swallowing thickly. “Thank you, Siri. I'm sorry for snapping at you lately… I don't mean it.”

“I know, I know.” He says, softly kissing her lips. “I love you.”

She smiles faintly at his kiss, “I love you more.” She whispers.

“Impossible.” He whispers back.

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musamora · 8 months ago

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— ᴘᴇʀ ᴛᴇ ᴇ ᴘᴇʀ ᴍᴇ ɴᴇʟ ᴄɪᴇʟᴏ · ꜰʏᴏᴅᴏʀ ᴅᴏꜱᴛᴏᴇᴠꜱᴋʏ

content. gn!reader. based on a request. forehead kisses, flirting, slight character study, possible inaccurate depictions of italy, teasing, slight suggestive themes (towards the middle), soft!fyodor, translation at the end. muse-typical metaphors. not proofread. 1.7k+ words.

author's note. this was so fun to write! a very delicate balance of sweetness and humor, along with the slightest dashes of spice and angst. thanks to @rusmii for descending from the heavens to remind me of "love in portofino." i had it playing on repeat <3

would you like to see more? fill out the taglist or comment under this post.

It was difficult to describe the issues that arose from you and your lover's hectic schedules, at least to others. How would you ever begin to explain it—he's a terrorist dead-set on the eradication of sin from your world, and sometimes that doesn't mesh with your nine-to-five career. Yeah, that would be well-received at brunch. But it was your reality, and for the most part, you made it work.

Simple meals served between stints of scheming in his office; convoluted stories discussed amongst infrequent breaks in your living room. Both of you were aware that a relationship would not be easy, but you made it work. It wasn't for lack of trying on his part; however, you knew he disguised his desire to be close underneath a mask of perfection, pretending it was solely for your benefit. Sure.

So, to your surprise, a pamphlet appeared on your nightstand. You scanned the cover with scrambled thoughts—its glossed sheen describing the wonders of Rome—and when you inevitably arrived in his office to question its sudden appearance, he simply stated that he 'required a visit to the country' and that he knew you'd be interested in joining him.

To most, he's an enigma, but you read him like an open book. There was no use in pointing out his scheme, so instead, you settled into the idea of a vacation, joyfully assisting in any help he needed booking the trip—you had been to the city before and often spoke of your wish to return someday, which had seemingly caught his notice. He placed you in charge of specific details of the itinerary—smaller stops on your preset route, the transportation, restaurants for lunch—though he noticeably had already planned many of the larger events.

And that's how you arrived here. Rome, Italy. It was as luminous as you left it. You traded in your everyday attire for breathy linen and flowy cotton, allowing the Mediterranean sun to dance across your skin. Your ebony-haired lover was not far behind in fashion, a stark difference from the heavy wools and flannels of his motherland, which you had forced him to leave back in Yokohama so as not to worsen his already weakened constitution.

The brilliant city held a beauty incomparable, its streets nestled with centuries of history that went beyond books, laid to rest underneath soil and entombed in stone. Even Fyodor, with many years of travel under his belt, couldn't help but admire the manmade structures of a bygone era, which reached like beacons of human ingenuity into the firmament.

It had been ages since you explored the streets, and it was better now that you had a partner to hold your hand, hopping from place to place as you took in every destination with a new perspective. And in your exploration, you prayed Fyodor would find a connection with some kind of sight, with anything at all. He was a man so distant from mankind that you couldn't help but fret over his self-made isolation.

You were both exhausted—you had been on your feet for hours, and even though he tried to conceal it, you'd be foolish not to notice the slouch of his back as he tried to fight off sleep. He struck you with a knowing look whenever you cooed at him, forcing you to advert your eyes straight out onto the road as you scanned for the vehicle that was supposed to take you to the hotel.

Half an hour passed—nothing. You started to get worried.

"We've been scammed," he said, beating you to the punch as he stood from his seat on the sidewalk. You filled in his place, slumping against a wall as you hid your face in shame—one of the few tasks he had charged you with, and you had managed to mess it up!

He let out a breathy chuckle, patting the back of your head like he were comforting a scolded child. "We'll simply get a taxi."

You groaned, your stomach twisting at the sensation of your own incompetency, before allowing yourself to peek between your fingers to look out into the open world—and that was when you spotted it. A quaint shop with a flickering sign and a handful of mopeds slumped over outside. Fyodor's gaze followed yours, his brows furrowing as he found the target of your ire.

"Absolutely not."

But you had already grabbed onto his hand and pulled him out into the street, with surprisingly little resistance from him as he allowed himself to surrender to your will.

"You haven't experienced everything Rome has to offer," you hummed with a noticeable smirk, tilting your head to gaze at him between your lashes in a mocking attempt to sway his favor. "Come onnnn, Федечка."

He huffed, although his normal stoicism held an unmistakable look of fondness. "Ты маленькая гадюка."

You didn't need a translator to understand the meaning behind his words, heart filled with an almost sadistic joy as you approached the older gentleman that was running the shop. He seemed equally as amused as you were once he deciphered the situation, trading cash for keys as you skipped out the door.

Fyodor had planted himself onto the Vespa's seat without complaint, though you could not help his striking resemblance to a child on a bike that was far too small for them. He had his legs propped at an awkward angle to keep them from scraping against the ground, and the subtle twitch of his brow told you everything you needed to know.

You, on the other hand, were more than comfortable enough to settle between his legs, leaning against his chest as you reveled in the rare domesticality of the moment. That was until two arms decided to slither around your waist, a span of warm breath prickling your skin.

"You're quite brazen for someone that fell right within my grasp," he cooed, his voice dropping into that velvety, sadistically sweet tone that never failed to make you melt.

The bastard had planned this on purpose—he had reviewed your travel plans beforehand, including the transportation company. Much like you could read him, he knew your story from cover to cover, often reading over every page like his favorite novel. And he knew the best ways to make you squirm, his hand snaking up your side, brushing the sensitive divots of exposed skin as it made its way around your throat, giving the slightest but most lingering of squeezes.

That was until you unintentionally floored the gas pedal, propelling you both onto the street—luckily, there wasn't too much traffic at this hour. Despite the rush of the sudden acceleration, you had found that your heart returned to its normal pace as you moved with a rhythm within the twists and turns. You zipped past various sights, most of which were the most enjoyable, in your opinion—a glimpse into the lives of those who occupied these homes. There was a comfort in the consistency. People had passed and left, but the atmosphere remained the same, passed with care through every generation.

And then, your eyes caught onto something, and the muscles of your fingers instinctively flexed against the handlebars. The arms around your waist squeezed you when you began to tilt the moped steadily to the right.

"Don't—"

But you chose to do it anyway, slipping into a narrow sidestreet. You tried not to burst out in laughter at Fyodor's dumbstruck expression through the wing mirror, wishing to capture this moment in a frame somehow. Who knew that all it took to shut the mouth of the destructive mastermind Demon Fyodor Dostoevsky was a trip on a potentially dangerous vehicle?

You had recognized the pathway as a detour to an infamous part of the city—a perfect view of the Tiber River. It was difficult not to divert your path straight into the water when you funneled out into the road, the setting sun drawing a picturesque scene that could not be replicated, even if you returned to the same spot at the same time. There would never be another moment like this again. That sweet breeze parted the sky, both cradling and revitalizing you.

You crept onto a safe spot to park the moped and jumped off to rush to the edge of a bridge that overlooked the entire river, leaning against the railing while being careful not to tip your body over the side. The water sparkled and flickered from the rays of the dying light, twinkling as creatures rested underneath its surface. It enveloped you in an atmosphere of complete calm as if you and Fyodor were the only ones to exist in the world.

Speaking of.

His eyes had drifted toward a view completely different from yours, at least in aspects of physicality. You may have admired a sunset as the peak of fleeting beauty, but you seemed completely unaware that you encompassed every aspect of such a celestial entity, yet in such a strikingly ethereal way. He had seen many sunsets many times, much like he had seen many humans—unique and fascinating in their own way, but not always beautiful. But then, you crashed into his life, and he knew it was always intended for you to remain at his side. Much rarer than a sunset, much more precious.

He would take your life into his hands, ones stained in blood and sin, and unlike all the others he held within his grasp, he would nurture it—cherish it. Like a blossoming flower, he intended to care for you, an invaluable treasure.

He had already found the sight he had been searching for.

"Look!" you exclaimed, practically bouncing as you pointed toward the swaths of fluffed clouds that embellished the sky. "Isn't it gorgeous!"

You didn't even notice the slip of his mask as he joined by your side, brushing a kiss against your temple as he eyed the blooming excitement on your cheeks with your grin. The wind swept through in another attempt to swaddle you, letting the fresh smell of water brush through the folds of your clothes and the tresses of your hair. You turned your gaze to Fyodor, laughter caught in your throat as your eyes peered into his—locked onto you with an almost unnoticeable but most genuine of smiles.

"It truly is."

федечка = fedechka ты маленькая гадюка = you little viper

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simplyxsinned · 2 years ago

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𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐔𝐏 𝐎𝐅𝐅

• summary; you came back home tired and extremely late with your makeup still on, how will your partner react?

• genre; fluff, comfort

• characters; alhaitham, kaveh x reader

∘₊✧───────────────────✧₊∘

✧ The candle almost burning out as ALHAITHAM couldn't resist but let his mind wander about your whereabouts, he raised an eyebrow when he catches a glimpse of you standing right at the doorframe leading to his office, his palm propped up his chin, pretending that he's had his head buried in his books, putting on an act like he did not expect you to be here, especially when soaked from head to toe

Based on his calculations, you must’ve left the house in a rush as you overslept and forgot to bring an umbrella to work, thus increasing your possibility on getting a cold the next day, it’s not a big deal though, alhaitham trusts himself to take care of you well

“You’re making the floor wet” he stood up and made his way to you, catching you off guard when he swept your feet of the ground, easily lifting you as if it’s a simple gesture

He sets you down on the closed toilet seat, filling up the bathtub, he reached his hand in the water to check the temperature, making sure that it’s just right

Subsequently, he returned to your side, kneeling down “Alright how do I do this” one of his hand holding a makeup wipe and the other grabbing a cleanser

It’s funny watching him follow your instructions precisely, the beads of sweat rolling down his drop dead gorgeous face, you’re so sure that’s god’s most finest living piece of art on his knees in front of you, ugh what an honour

After successfully removing your makeup, the calming scent of fresh tropical lemongrass essential oil fills your scents, helping you clear your mind along plus easing your tense muscles after a long day

Al-Haitham being the caring lover he is, never leaves your side, he helps you dry your hair after showering, shhhh no need to tire yourself out anymore habibi let me take care of you <3

✧ KAVEH doesn’t have time for this, its already 11pm. Why are you not back? He intended to complete his projects that are occupying wayy too much space on his desk but instead ended up anxiously pacing back and forth around the living room, nibbling on his thumb as it was his habit when nervous, eyes occasionally darting to the entrance of your shared house, hoping to see you miraculously appear through the door

You promised to spend time with him and have a skincare night which is a weekly ritual you two had planned because he said quote “oh my god we should totally treat ourselves cause we totally deserve it”

And well, after a few moments which felt like an eternity for him he heard your grumble outside the door

You were fumbling with your keys, frustrated and angry, blaming your anger towards the poor keys

“Honey you’re back!” he exclaimed while running to you with open arms with a large smile plastered on his face, you paused infront of him. He doesn’t fail to notice your furrowed brows and reddened cheeks, upon realising what’s the situation his mouth immediately turned into a thin line

It wasn’t your fault that you were tired after a day of work as you turned away and walked past him, dismissing his enthusiasm

In response he pouted at your dismissal, if you were to turn around right there right now, you’d see a sulking golden retriever. Of course kaveh being himself, he pestered you for a bit asking about your day

With your head on his lap, both of you already had your clay masks on, you couldn’t help but pour your heart out into ranting to your caring partner. As you went on a verbal onslaught, his fingertips threading through your hair whilst occasionally humming, showing that he’s actually paying attention to you

It was times like these where you felt thankful to have a loving partner like kaveh, well he might not be perfect but he’ll give in his best efforts for your comfort

thanks for reading <33

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railingsofsorrow · 11 months ago

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do you need me?

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: the one where emily's death takes a toll on you. based on the prompt “don't come over, I can handle it.” from this prompt list.

pairing: s.reid x gn!reader

w.c: 3.5K

warnings/content: mentions of skipping meals; grief; mourning the loss of a friend; jemily (implied); blood; non-graphic descriptions of violence; character death (mentioned/not the MCs); addiction; intoxication; survivor's guilt; crying; unhealthy coping mechanisms; this is... heavy, be aware.

A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!! I wish that we all have an amazing 2024. here's the blurb you voted for. hurt/comfort at its best <3

navi

masterpost

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❝ it did not kill me and it did not make me stronger. it simply was and always will be scorched upon my heart. ❞

— d.j

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You don't know who took Emily's death the hardest. Pain is not something that can be measured or compared, people deal with it in different ways. Some are quieter in their grieving, others are loud. And although each one of your teammates knows how to compartmentalize their feelings, there was a fog in their eyes, a heaviness in their shoulders more than usual. Things you could relate well after all that has happened. You wish you didn't. You wished all of that was just a strange and far-off memory.

JJ was different — you noticed it during one of your night outs.

Penelope had forced everyone to hang out after a case, to relax. It had been a few months after what happened to Emily and the team was still... sore. Rightfully so.

Hotch and Rossi left earlier, leaving you, Derek, Spencer, Penelope and JJ at the bar. The only ones who weren't intoxicated were you and Spencer. You were pretty sure the conversation Penelope and Derek were having in their own little world was not PG-13, anyway.

“Do you think she's alright?”

Spencer asked, casting a look towards JJ. It's been half an hour she was nursing a glass of water — you had purposely brought her this one since she'd lost count of her shots —, staring at it with her stare unfocused.

“She will be.” You had said and when he told you he was leaving, you asked if he wanted a ride home. You hadn't drank anything but orange juice. He refused it, hugged you and, before he left, he demanded that you'd let him know once you got home.

You ended up being JJ's designated driver that night.

It was when you first saw a crack through the mask she had put on. Emily and JJ shared a deep bond. You knew their friendship wasn't just friendship, even before Emily had revealed to you that she had feelings for the blonde a while back. When Emily was gone, you saw how JJ took it hard. Not that everyone else didn't as well, but the love from each person in the team carried for Emily was different from the love JJ had for her.

Between the gibberish she was mumbling in the passenger seat of your car, she let escape a faint “I miss her”. Her voice cracked and your heart ached.

“D’ you think...” She muttered as you were helping her into her bed. “D'you think she miss— a hiccup — misses us?”

You refrained from saying that dead people cannot miss anything. Instead, you waited for her to fall asleep, placed a cup of water and aspirin on her bedside table before leaving her apartment.

She pretended nothing happened in the next day and you did the same.

You thought JJ had it worst, until Spencer showed up at your door at 3 a.m craving for something he hadn't touched in three years.

Again, pain is not comparable. One does not hurts more than another; people deal with their hardships in life differently, even if they have gone through the same life-changing event.

Some let it show, others just know how to hide it better. You no longer knew if you were the former or the latter through the eyes of your friends.

The current case you were working on had rendered you mentally exhausted. A victim had been taken hostage and for two days you tried to negotiate with the unsub, but to no avail. You almost had it. Almost. When you thought you had succeeded in releasing the woman, she was shot right in front of you.

She died in your arms and there was nothing that you could have done to prevent.

Or was there?

There was nothing that you could have done. You have heard that before. Countless of times. People tried to inject that into your head as a way to make you feel better. And they have their best intentions, you do not doubt it. But it was no use if you couldn't bring yourself to believe these words.

This was just one of those days, when you didn't know how to cope with that overbearing sadness that crippled your mind.

There was nothing that you could have done. There was nothing that you could have done. There was nothing that you could have done. There was nothing that you could have done. There was nothing that you could have—

“Hey.”

You flinched, startled at the voice. As you came back to reality, Spencer turned up in front of you.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.” His face twitched into a grimace.

You cleared your throat, placing your stuff in your bag. You were so distracted that you didn't realise you had been holding the bloodied shirt you were wearing in the morning; you shoved it inside carelessly. I'm gonna burn it.

“You didn't,” you said. “What's up? I thought you had left already.”

Spencer leaned on the door, fingers playing with the strap of his satchel as he waited for you to leave the room. He followed you to the corridor, an unspoken silence that said a million things. His fidgety hands weren't just mindlessly stimming, he was nervous.

Everyone else seemed to have left, meaning the bullpen was fairly empty. You wondered how long you stayed frozen reminiscing as the minutes went by.

“I was waiting for you.” He responded as soon as the elevator doors closed.

You turned to him with widened eyes. “Why? I'm sorry I kept you waiting—”

Spencer quickly waved you off, “It's alright.” He gave you a soft smile. The one you felt warm inside. “I just wanted to know if you were okay.”

Oh.

“Of course I am.” You replied and you really hoped the tight smile you gave him was convincing enough for him to not question further. You weren't sure if you'd be able to not crumble down completely if he asked again.

“Are you sure?”

Damn, Spencer.

Yes, everything is good. I just need to get home, take a shower and have a good night sleep without interruptions.

Everything is good.

You don't know how many times you repeated that until he walked alongside you to the parking lot.

Arriving home was all that you needed to let your armour aside. God you were so tired. You didn't even reach your bedroom before the tears came like a waterfall. Falling into your couch, with no strength to stand, you finally stopped fighting against the sadness and let it lead you for the time being.

It's hard trying to be strong all the time, isn't it? Not admitting you need someone to be there for you because you only know how to be there for people. You tell them it's going to be okay. You let them be vulnerable. You say it's okay to not be okay.

Why can't you treat yourself the same way you treat the people around you?

You count every raindrop falling down your window, it helps you focus on reality. It was grounding and a few minutes later you have stopped sobbing your heart out.

It was raining hard outside. When you open the window, the cold slips right in and you stay there, enjoying the wind pushing your hair back.

You dial a familiar number tonight. And you don't hang up after two rings. You think about doing it in the fourth, but the person picks up, apologizing before they say hello.

It actually makes your lips twitch slightly. You don't smile, but you feel like doing it after crying so hard.

“Spencer.” You say through the phone interrupting his incessant apologies for taking too long to answer, your brows creasing after you hear how strange your voice is. “You don't have to apologize. I was the one who called you at one a.m. Why are you even awake?”

“I was reading. Lost track of time. I— have you been crying?” Well, shit. Too much for thinking he wouldn't notice through the phone.

“Why do you ask?” You ask rather pathetically. Why did you call him? Why did you bother Spencer at one a.m when he could be sleeping? You should feel sorry for yourself. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called—”

“I was thinking about you.”

Your breath hitches. You close the window and sit back on the floor and you feel like crying again, you don't know why. Maybe it's his voice. Maybe it's the fact that he makes you feel everything that you're allowed to feel.

He takes your silence as his cue to continue. “I know how much you love thunderstorms so I...” he trails off as if he's uncertain about what he will say. “I remembered you.”

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Spencer could take pride in saying he knew you better than anyone else.

He recognised the sound of your voice was different when your were excited about a particular topic and when you were discussing a case at work. He knew you brushed your hair behind your ear when you felt shy, but the same action could happen when you were uncomfortable. It heavily depended on the situation.

He was aware of your odd behaviour by the way you kept on touching your index finger throughout the day. The week, actually. Spencer could tell you were bothered by something, he could tell you were deeply upset. You skipped breakfast and you never had lunch with them. Not that past week.

And judging by the dark circles around your eyes, you weren't sleeping well either.

He saw himself in you a month back.

See, Spencer was the kind of person who didn't like being vulnerable around anyone. If anything, he mastered the act of not communicating his feelings, he just expected them to disappear, which didn't happen but he was getting better at understanding that.

After Emily's passing, the only one he opened up to was you. And it was the hardest and best choice he ever made. You made him feel seen. It was so easy to talk to you about anything that he didn't notice until a few days ago that you were a very good listener. Not that he didn't notice that before, no, it was not that. But you just listened. You comforted. You held.

Spencer was really concerned about your coping mechanisms, because he knew he didn't have the most healthy ways of dealing with things. He hoped you were better than him. He hoped you didn't let it build up until you were suffocating.

So when you called him, he wasn't lying when he said he was thinking of you. His lie laid on the reading part, he was trying to fall asleep but his concern was keeping him up.

I'm here for you too. He wanted to say. Please, let me be here for you.

“I know how much you love thunderstorms so I...” He sat down on the bed, shifting until he found a comfortable position. “I remembered you.” This is what he started with.

Your ragged breathing through the line cut off his rational thinking. So you have been crying.

He called your name softly.

“Hi. I'm here.” You say, forcing out an exhale.

“Talk to me.” He pleads.

He hears a faint sniffle, “I'm here, Spencer.”

No, you're not. You're far away.

“I'm here too. You know that right?”

“It's been a hard week.” You admit through your shaky voice. “I just needed to hear your voice.” You cut him off quickly. “I know that I saw you a few hours ago, but I—”

“Do you need me?” He was the one who cut you off this time. He couldn't bear you explaining the reason you called. You could call him as many times as you wanted. Every five minutes, every second. He wanted to tell you he missed you when your shift was over for the day even if he spent the entire day by your side, and that you never ever could bother him because he cherished your company. He wanted you close. And he just wanted you to be okay now.

“... It's one a.m, Spence.” There is some shifting through the line, sounds like you were moving around. “I— I can handle it. It's fine.”

“Do you need me?” He repeats, shuffling out of his room to the living room. He couldn't care less that it was one a.m. He found his coat hanged and didn't wait for your answer to put it on. Really, Spencer should have done it sooner.

He's half way on tying his left shoe when you breath out in resignation. Your voice much closer to his ear as if you were telling him a secret you should be ashamed of. “Yes. Yes, I need you.”

He let out a hum, standing up to grab his car keys and sprinted out of his home to go to yours.

“I'll be there in ten.”

You lived twenty minutes away from him, but he'd make in ten. He wanted to see you. More than anything, he wanted to tell you everything that you hadn't heard when you were too busy comforting people instead of yourself.

He stops short before knocking on your door, deciding on sending you a text to let you know he was there so you wouldn't be startled at the noise. He didn't get to click send as the door was yanked open. Your bloodshot eyes and swollen lips are the first thing he sees.

“Hi.” He says, slipping his phone into his pocket. As soon as he did that, your arms envelope his shoulders which caused him to let out a sound of surprise, but he quickly recover and wraps his own arms around you, squeezing your shaky body against his. “Hi.” He utters into the croak of your neck, his hand trailing up and down on your back gently. “I'm wet because of the rain,” he apologises halfheartedly. “Sorry.”

The laugh he hears through your sobs might just have made his day.

He was cold immediately after you slips out of his arms. You pull him inside your place and shut the door, claiming you would be back with a towel despite his protests that he didn't need it.

Spencer lost count of how many times he visited your place. He knew every corner of your apartment, every place you left books that you keep losing when you didn't found them on the shelves, every painting and drawing you had on the walls. The ones he happily convinced you to put on because you made them and they were beautiful, you just didn't believe it.

The two of you spent long hours on your couch, either reading a book and saying your favourite quotes out loud or just watching bad movies and TV shows to pass the time.

He'd ramble on and on about the inconsistencies of any plot and you'd engage in his refutations until you'd disagree and some bantering ensued.

“Here.” Spencer turns around to see you offering a towel for him to dry off. The middle of your forehead furrows slightly, he feels the need to smooth it out himself but he refrains from doing so. “It's dangerous to drive when the weather it's like this. I'm sorry that I made you come all the way here for nothing.”

“Nothing?” He shakes his head as if it's the most absurd thing you've ever said. “You're not nothing.” He accepts the towel and what he recognizes is a jumper of his he must have forgotten a while ago.

When he's completely dry, he walks to the kitchen where you had ventured off to make some tea.

Two mugs are placed on the kitchen counter, the smell of camomile slowly filling the room. You are lost in your thoughts again, mixing the honey in your tea with a spoon for forty-three minutes, your gaze unfocused. Lost.

His fingerstips trails down your wrist to your hand, proceeding to take one of your hands in his, thumb running across your palm. “Can you please look at me?” He requests softly, head tilting until you have no choice but to meet his eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It” are a lot of things. But he doesn't know if you feel comfortable enough to talk about all of them tonight. He'll just follow your lead and respect your time.

“I don't want you to see me like this.”

He feels your fingers tighten around his hand and he squeezes back as a form of reassurance.

“Like what?” He can't help but ask. Vulnerable? Human?

“Weak.”

“You could never be weak in my eyes.”

This time, he does smooth down the frown between your brows with his thumb, surprised that you don't reject his touch but welcome it by leaning into his hand.

Neither of you drink the tea. Instead, you move back to the living room, settling down on your couch. You end up cuddling, which wasn't strange because you have done it many times before. Now it just feels more intimate. His hold never strayed from yours. This time, he listened. He comforted. And he held you.

“I'm used to blood, we see it all the time.” you carry on, speaking directly to his chest as he looks down at you. “But I... My hands. There was just so much of it and I couldn't, I couldn't save her.” Your fingers play with the straps of his jumper to distract yourself.

There was nothing that you could have done.

“She knows you did everything you could.” Spencer reassures. He was well aware that you weren't just talking about the victim that you had lost today. “Wherever she is right now...” He lifts a hand to cup your face stroking your cheek with the utmost care in the world. “She knows.”

Your bloodshot eyes study him carefully, searching for any indication that could make you not trust anything he just said. He knew how hard it was to believe that you had no fault in the loss of a friend. Maybe if we had gotten there sooner... Maybe if we had figured everything out sooner...

A little bird told him once that you can't dwell on the past for long or else you'll be stuck in it. And those words — your words — helped on his healing process. He hoped he did the same to you now.

You were laying on his chest, one of your hands positioned right where his heart laid as your other arm involved his middle. His arm wrapped around you as his fingers were trailing up and down your back in the way he knew calmed you down. Spencer felt the most rested he hasn't felt in months and he wasn't even sleeping.

“Tell me if I'm making you uncomfortable.”

He shook his head in response, finding that statement completely absurd because it was not possible for you to make him feel uncomfortable. He's not a fan of PDA, but he found that he didn't mind it with you. So he lowered down on the couch, moving your body with his to be more comfortable, lips grazing your temple in a soft kiss.

“You're not.” He says brushing your hair away from your neck. Your eyes were shut and he could feel your breathing evening out. “Try to sleep a little.” He let out in a whisper to not disturb your peacefulness. He knew you needed it.

“Don't go.” You croak out, tucking your nose in the croak of his neck, breathing into him.

The corner of his lips quirk up. “I'll be here when you wake up.” He promises as thunder rolled outside. Fluttering his eyes shut when you have finally dozed off, he ignores the warnings in his head about sleeping on the couch and how bad it is for one's neck.

No, he could deal with that tomorrow. For now, he would just hold you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

❝ all I know of strength, I have learnt from breaking. ❞

— sahiba

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

taglist: @lilyviolets

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #reader insert #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid angst

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yamayuandadu · 11 months ago

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"A god of tengu-warding": uncovering the connection between Okina and tengu

There’s something uniquely magical and captivating about Okina’s dialogue in HSiFS that neither subsequent final bosses nor even her own subsequent appearances manage to capture. Probably no other character managed to directly reference quite as many myths and religious concepts in her debut game appearance. And yet, without context many of these probably seem borderline nonsensical. Interviews and supplementary material sometimes help, but even that isn’t guaranteed. This article will focus on only one such instance, the notoriously mystifying exchange between her and Aya which simultaneously casts her as a “god of tengu-warding” and implies a degree of kinship between them. What does this mean? Why does Okina have something to do with tengu in the first place? Where do tengu come from, anyway? Why crow tengu aren’t necessarily crows? Why is it possible to make a case for Byakuren being a tengu? This - and more - will be explored under the cut.

Matarajin and tengu, from tengu odoshi to Hidden Star in Four Seasons

In Aya’s route in Hidden Star in Four Seasons, Okina calls herself “a god of tengu-warding”. This is actually not something ZUN invented. Matarajin was the focus of a medieval Tendai Buddhist ritual known as tengu odoshi (天狗怖し) - “placating the tengu”. He was most likely himself understood as a tengu in this context. As such, he had to be placated by the monks performing the ritual, whose chaotic actions - chiefly noisy recitation of random sutras coupled - were meant to imitate his own behavior.

This approach is somewhat unusual: in many other similar ceremonies an appropriate deity or deities would simply be invoked to get rid of demonic interlopers. Here the risk of obstruction is so great that only by pretending to play along with it victory can be attained. Or, alternatively, perhaps to get rid of Matarajin and other tengu, the monks had to beat them at their own game by creating an even more disorderly display. Yet another option is that Matarajin had to be attracted with the ritual in order to ward off other, lesser tengu. No matter which interpretation is correct, it is evident there was a direct connection between them.

Matarajin and his attendants (Rhode Island School of Design Museum; reproduced here for educational purposes only) As a curiosity it’s worth pointing out that it has been suggested that tengu odoshi and other similar rituals and festivals might have resulted in the development of Matarajin’s well known role as a deity of the performing arts, especially noh, exemplified by his equation with a stock character from sarugaku, Okina, an auspicious old man represented by a characteristic bearded mask. Comparisons have also been made between the tengu odoshi and rituals involving Matarajin’s attendants Chōreita Dōji (丁令多童子) and Nishita Dōji (爾子多童子). Fittingly, one of the spell cards of their Touhou counterparts Mai and Satono is named Mad Dance "Tengu-Odoshi".

Shizuka Gozen performing in typical shirabyōshi attire, as depicted by Hokusai (wikimedia commons)

While this is only tangentially related to Matarajin, it’s worth pointing out that according to Yasurō Abe, it was also believed that tengu were enthusiasts of the performing arts in general. However, while Matarajin was associated with noh, tengu favored an earlier form of entertainment, shirabyōshi (白拍子). This term refers to a type of female dancer who performed in male formal wear. The reference to tengu enjoying their dances and songs might be an allusion to emperor Go-Shirakawa, who was known for similar artistic tastes and was commonly represented as a tengu in legends.

The association between Matarajin and tengu was also present in shugendō. In Kumano, local shugenja apparently perceived him as a tengu-like deity comparable to Iizuna Gongen (飯縄権現). It’s worth noting this is in theory who Megumu is based on, but tragically ZUN didn’t want to do much with the irl background in her case, so I doubt we'll ever see a reference to this in canon media.

An Edo period depiction of the ox festival of Matarajin (wikimedia commons)

It seems the only other possible reference to Matarajin as a tengu is a depiction of the famous (relatively speaking) Kōryū-ji ox festival from the Edo period Miyako Meisho Zue (都名所圖會) in which the person playing his role wears a tengu-like mask.

Considering ZUN has to be aware of at least some of the scholarship pertaining to Matarajin and tengu - tengu odoshi is not exactly a famous ritual, and most of the search results today are just Touhou - it seems safe to say that he had this very connection in mind. Aya mentions a category of beings she refers to as “people of impairments”, which according to her encompasses both the tengu and their metaphorical relatives who “hid behind Buddhas”, like Okina. This neatly corresponds to their shared role of their counterparts in medieval and early modern Buddhism.

In addition to the connections between Matarajin and tengu discussed above, there are multiple other instances of identifying him as a member of a category of beings usually perceived ambivalently, if not outright negatively, specifically because of their ability to impair the pursuit of enlightenment. If you read my previous post focused on Okina-adjacent topics, you already know that Matarajin was closely associated with dakinis, for instance. It’s worth noting that as an extension of this connection, he could also be associated with foxes. The Edo period treatise Inari Jinja Kō (稲荷神社考, “Reflections on Inari Shrine”) outright says that matarajin, treated as a generic term, not a given name, is one of the the terms which can be used to refer to supernatural foxes.

The oldest presently known reference to Matarajin describes him as a “yasha deity” (夜叉神, yashajin). This term is a loan from Sanskrit yakṣa, and refers to a class of nature spirits or low-ranking deities incorporated into Buddhism from preexisting tradition of India. They are portrayed as generally benevolent and protective. To be a yaksha in origin is no shame for a deity, despite their low status and occasional ambivalence. Bishamonten, who needs no introduction, as well as Konpira, the foremost of the Twelve Heavenly Generals, are both portrayed as yakshas who embraced Buddhism. Even the bodhisattva Kannon seemingly was portrayed as a reincarnation of a female yaksha named Cundī early on. In both China and Japan, the most widespread image of a yaksha is ultimately that of an armed, protective figure.

However, sometimes negative traits can be ascribed to yakshas too. For instance, the Tang period Buddhist scholar Guifeng Zongmi maintained that yakshas are child-eating demons - though he also recorded a custom of dedicating children to them in order to prevent them from harm. The tenth century Tendai monk Genshin stated they were among demonic beings who could potentially obstruct rebirth in a pure land. However, it was possible to solve this problem with the right rites. The examples listed above are just a few glimpses of one of the most recurring topics in historical Japanese Buddhist literature: there were demons, and even deities (障礙神, shōgejin) keen on impairing the pursuit of enlightenment unless properly placated. This would either ward them off, or even turn them into fierce protectors of Buddhism instead (what ZUN presumably meant by Aya’s comment about “hiding behind Buddhas”). However, most of such beings originated in India and spread alongside new religious movements. How did tengu join their ranks? To answer this question, I will need to go beyond Matarajin and further back in time, to the Heian and Kamakura periods.

Makai, the realm of tengu

A group of Tengu constructing a temple in the tengu realm (wikimedia commons)

The emergence of tengu as a well defined class of beings is fundamentally tied to portraying them as a source of hindrances for practitioners of Buddhism. In the twelfth century, they came to be identified with the concept of ma (魔), a loanword from Sanskrit māra. In this context, it is to be understood as obstruction of enlightenment, or opposition to the Buddha, his teachings and the Buddhist law. There are both internal sources of ma, like doubt and worldly attachment, and external ones. Tengu, generally speaking, fall into the second category.

Tengu were believed to be reincarnations of those who lack bodhicitta (菩提心, bodaishin), the mindset necessary to pursue enlightenment. Those who become tengu at least nominally follow Buddhist teachings, but fail because of arrogance, greed and other earthly attachments. Those who mislead others by promoting incorrect practices also turned into tengu after death.

Many tengu narratives from the Heian period and the middle ages portray them as possessing extraordinary powers, which they use to trick and mislead monks and laypeople alike. They could be referred to as gejutsu (外術), literally “outside techniques”. A related term is gedō (外道), “outside way”. These labels are not necessarily pejorative, and can refer to any practices which are not strictly Buddhist, for example to Confucian or Daoist ones, and in fact some were integrated with Buddhist practices. However, depending on context other options might be preferable. For example, Haruko Wakabayashi went with “wicked sorcery” in her translation of a Konjaku Monogatari tale in which a tengu poses as a buddha in order to mislead laypeople. However, even if tengu could imitate miracles Buddhas and bodhisattvas were believed to perform, their results were only temporary because they lacked true power. In many tales the effects of tengu tricks only last seven days.

According to the Kamakura period anthology Shasekishū (沙石集), not all tengu are malicious, despite their origin. Those who are close to being redeemed, while held back by “superficial wisdom”, curtail the influence of their more malevolent peers and thus act as protectors of Buddhism. They eventually leave the realm of tengu. Other sources indicate that the malign tengu are destined to eventually be reborn as animals.

As already pointed out above, the notion of tengu being opponents of Buddhism already appears in Konjaku Monogatari, composed between 1120 and 1140. The tales involving them appear in the final chapter of the section focused on Buddhism in Japan, which sets them apart from most other supernatural beings. They are instead grouped with accounts of visits in hells and other realms of rebirth, and with narratives explaining the consequences of accumulation of bad karma.

In the Kamakura period, tengu received their own place in the Buddhist cosmos: an entire realm of rebirth. It didn’t replace any of the three other realms where one reincarnates as punishment due to accumulating bad karma - these of hungry ghosts, animals, and hell. It could be sometimes described as a specific hell (one of many) or as a part of the animal realm, but generally it was held to be something distinct. While still perceived negatively, it can effectively be considered a preferable alternative to rebirth as an animal or in hell, since to be reborn as a tengu does not necessarily prevent one from seeking enlightenment.

The realm of tengu was variously referred to as tengudō (天狗道; “realm of tengu”), madō (魔道; “realm of ma”) or makai (魔界; “world of ma”). The last of these terms has been present in Touhou for a while, though never in association with tengu, at least for now. I am aware many people are attached to the PC-98 portrayal of Makai and to Shinki, but I would argue there are endless possibilities in trying to make the medieval understanding of this term work in this context as well. Most notably, the notion of monks who failed in their pursuit of enlightenment would have interesting implications for Byakuren. Following medieval Buddhist logic, one could argue she is essentially already a tengu, even though ZUN refers to “sealing” in Makai, as opposed to being reborn there. She may deny it herself in Symposium of Post-Mysticism, but it's hard to argue with the evidence.

The oldest work establishing the existence of tengudō as a distinct realm of rebirth is Hirasan Kojin Reitaku (比良山古人霊託; “The Spiritual Oracle of the Old Man of Mount Hira”), in which the Tendai monk Keisei (1189–1268) learns about it from a tengu residing on Mount Hira. While left anonymous, the being states that he was alive in the times of Shōtoku and before the rise of Fujiwara no Kamatari to prominence, and explains that due to worldly attachments he was reborn in the realm of tengudō. He then provides information about many of Keisei’s family members and contemporaries, as well as assorted historical figures. Some of them have shared a similar fate, including emperors Sutoku and Goshirakawa and prominent members of Buddhist clergy like Ryōgen, Jien, and many others. Keisei and the anonymous tengu then engage in what I can only describe as a vintage example of power scaling, and start to compare the strength of the individual tengu (as we learn, Go-Shirakawa is more powerful than Sutoku).

Curiously, the anonymous tengu is entirely self-aware, and explains that his mind is filled with illusory thoughts, but proper Buddhist observance can nonetheless save him and other tengu from their current state. He notes that Ryōgen was able to leave the realm of tengu already, for instance. Another peculiar aspect of this account is the explicit reference to female tengu. The protagonist explains to Keisei that his wife is a fellow tengu, though she is only 400 years old. He also specifies many other tengu have families and even children.

A debate in the tengu realm (wikimedia commons)

The Buddhist views on tengu became firmly cemented thanks to the Tengu Zōshi (天狗草紙), a set of seven illustrated scrolls. This work most likely originally arose in the thirteenth century, in an era of conflicts between the well established esoteric schools of Buddhism, Tendai and Shingon, and the newcomers to the scene, like Zen and Pure Land. All parties involved accused each other of spreading false teachings and embracing ma. The new schools did not form a unified front, for clarity: for instance, Nichiren denounced the Shingon establishment about equally enthusiastically as Zen or Pure Land. There were also voices presenting the very act of criticism of other schools as worthy of critique in itself. The goal of Tengu Zōshi was to criticize and satirize the various vices of contemporary Buddhist monks by presenting them as tengu. It states that there are seven kinds of tengu, corresponding to seven different sorts of pride (citing Haruko Wakabayashi: “feeling slightly inferior to those who are greatly superior, feeling superior to those who are inferior and equal to those who are equal, feeling superior to those who are equal and equal to those who are superior, feeling superior to those who are superior, being attached to oneself, committing evil and thinking one is virtuous, and feeling enlightened when one is not).

Five of the tengu types are supposed to represent monks of major temples of this era (Kōfuku-ji, Tōdai-ji, Enryakuji, Onjō-ji, and Tō-ji), the remaining two are yamabushi (mountain ascetics) and “recluses” (tonse). However, the scrolls culminate with a reveal that all of the depicted tengu attained salvation and eventually became Buddhas (save for Ippen, who was instead destined to be reborn in the animal realm). This once again puts an emphasis on tengudō not being quite as bad as the other paths of rebirth which should generally be avoided: one has to actually practice Buddhism in some form to get there in the first place, and it is possible to attain enlightenment as a tengu.

The notion of tengudō and tengu being fallen monks did not vanish after the middle ages, and appears for example in some tales about Yoshitsune’s youth and his training with these beings, for instance in the Miraiki (未来記; literally “chronicle of the future”). Therefore, it is safe to say that this is the closest thing to a universal explanation where do tengu come from. However, their history actually goes even further back.

Cats, comets, dogs and kites: the origin of tengu

A tiangou from the Classic of Mountains and Seas (wikimedia commons)

The history of tengu starts in China. At least the history of the name, that is. The word 天狗, which in Chinese is read as tiangou, already occurs in the Classic of Mountains and Seas, probably composed at some point in the second half of the first millennium BCE, either near end of the Warring States Period or in the beginning of the reign of the Han dynasty. While tiangou can be literally translated “celestial dog”, the creature is actually compared to a wildcat with a white head, and makes catlike sounds on top of that. It is also said to repel evil forces. This quality is also reaffirmed by the poet Guo Pu, who additionally states the tiangou is so small that a ruler could either eat it or wear it as a belt ornament to make use of its protection.

Next to this whimsical image of a benevolent supernatural creature, the term tiangou was also used to refer to comets and similar celestial phenomena. This meaning of the term entered Buddhist texts, for example in the Sutra on the Bases of Mindfulness of the True Dharma (正法念處經, Chinese Zhengfa Nianchu Jing, Japanese Shōbō Nenshokyō), tiangou serves as a translation of the Sanskrit term ulka, which refers to meteors. The astral tiangou eventually developed its own supernatural associations in China, becoming a sort of dog-shaped astral demon. I cannot cover this topic extensively here, but you will find plenty of information, including a first hand account of a modern celebration tied to these traditions, in Xiaosu Sun’s article in the bibliography.

The earliest Japanese reference to 天狗 occurs in the Nihon Shoki (completed in 720), specifically in the section recording the events from the reign of emperor Jomei (593-641). The reason why I’m using the kanji here is that the reading is not necessarily intended to be tengu in this case; the gloss indicates it is actually to be read as amatsukitsune, “heavenly fox” (I’ll go back to this term later). However, Haruko Wakabayashi states it’s safe to assume that it was used here in the astronomical Chinese meaning. The passage refers to observation of a comet, which reportedly made the sound of thunder as it passed from east to west.

Some other early references to tengu occur in literature of the Heian period (794-1185). In this context, this term seems to refer to nondescript mountain spirits. They were believed to possess people to make them fall ill or to cause disorder. All around it seems they weren’t really meaningfully distinct from any other beings or phenomena which could be subsumed under the label of mononoke (物の怪), and it's not clear how their name came to be applied to them. In the early twentieth century, the folklorist Kunio Yanagita tried to prove these early tengu might have represented people pushed into the mountains by the spread of a centralized Japanese state. However, this theory never took off. Even some of Yanagita’s contemporaries, especially Kumagusu Minakata, were critical of it, and it’s just a weird curiosity today. Similar assumptions were proven correct in the case of tsuchigumo, and might be correct in the case of some oni tales, but these are matters for another time.

The supernatural form of Sutoku, as depicted by Yoshitsuya Utagawa (wikimedia commons)

Notably, in the Heian period it was already believed that one can reincarnate as a tengu, though this belief didn’t become quite as well defined as it was in later sources. Probably the oldest story like that states that the monk Shinzei (真済; 800-860) a disciple of Kūkai (774-835), became a tengu and subsequently tormented empress Somedono (染殿后; Fujiwara no Akirakeiko), the wife of emperor Seiwa. In later tradition, emperor Sutoku came to be viewed as the archetypal example of a human who reincarnated as a tengu; it should be noted he was simultaneously viewed as a vengeful spirit (怨霊, onryō), though.

A kite-like tengu, as depicted by Sekien Toriyama (wikimedia commons)

The well known association between tengu and birds is already present in Heian sources too. Today, the bird-like depictions of tengu are known as “karasu tengu”, literally “crow tengu”, and in many modern works, including Touhou, this moniker is taken literally. However, through history the birdlike elements of the tengu were typically those of a bird of prey, not a corvid. As I mentioned, kites were the most common, but for example some depictions of Iizuna Gongen are eagle-like. This convention might have been influenced by garudas, a class of bird-like Buddhist protective figures.

A depiction of a garuda from Besson Zakki (別尊雑記), a Heian period Buddhist iconographic compendium (via Bernard Faure’s Rage and Ravage; reproduced here for educational purposes only)

Descriptions of tengu explicitly mentioning their resemblance to kites are quite common. In Zoku Honchō Ōjōden (続本朝往生伝; “Continuation of the Biographies of Japanese Reborn in a Pure Land Continued”) Ōe no Masafusa (who you might remember from my Ten Desires article) mentions a tengu turning into a kite to spy on a virtuous monk. In the historical epic Taiheiki Sutoku, presented as the ruler of all tengu, is said to have the form of a golden kite. However, in at least some cases tengu are not necessarily birds themselves, but merely use them as mounts. Granted, both traditions could coexist: Hirasan Kojin Reitaku explains that tengu ride kites, but it also describes them as possessing the legs, tail and wings of a bird themselves.

The oldest source to feature a large number of images of bird-like tengu is the already discussed Tengu Zōshi. These include high-ranking monks with beaks, yamabushi or monks with wings and beaks, slightly more bird-like figures portrayed largely without clothing, and finally non-anthropomorphic kites. There are also illustrations of seemingly regular humans labeled as tengu. Haruko Wakabayashi concludes that the use of multiple distinct iconographic types in the same scrolls might reflect belief in a hierarchy of tengu, with the beaked monks representing the upper echelons of the tengu society and the other varieties their servants. The regular kites presumably hold the lowest position. The tengu world thus seems to reflect a contemporary idealized image of Buddhist hierarchy, with lower ranking practitioners, wandering ascetics and laypeople guided by senior monks.

ZUN kept the notion of tengu hierarchy, though the classes listed in the relevant entry in Perfect Memento in Strict Sense are largely his invention, or at least represent pretty extensive reinterpretation (for instance, tengu dressed up as yamabushi aren’t associated with printing in any particular way). While many of these changes work very well with his idea to adapt the traditional role of tengu as peddlers of dubious interpretations of Buddhist doctrine and false miracles with a fresh twist by making them purveyors of misinformation, I will admit I’m not sure where did the idea of wolf tengu come from, as it fits neither this theme nor any genuine tengu background. The wiki insists that’s a reference to the Chinese tiangou, but I’m not buying this.

Iizuna Gongen riding on the back of a celestial fox (wikimedia commons)

I would argue foxes would probably work better than wolves. In some cases due to phonetic similarity a degree of conflation, or at least confusion, could occur between tengu and tenko (天狐), “heavenly foxes”. The fourteenth century treatise Byakuhō Kushō (白寶口抄) states the tenko has the form of a kite, for instance. It’s also why Iizuna Gongen was sometimes referred to as Chira Tenko (智羅天狐). The link with foxes was hardly universal, though. For example, it is absent from the tradition centered on Mount Atago, in which in addition to birds, tengu are associated with wild boars. Note that a myth dealing with Iizuna Gongen’s arrival in Japan does indirectly link this location with foxes, but this is basically extending his own connections to other tengu.

While the discussed animal connections are quite important for tengu iconography, I was unable to find any evidence that there was ever a particularly strong belief in mundane animals turning into tengu, as Aya’s bio from Phantasmagoria of Flower View would imply. The only source I am aware of which would state that directly is Atsutane Hirata, one of the most fanatical kokugaku authors, and even he still states that at least some tengu were reincarnated Buddhists. Note that his works are generally not a record of genuine mythology or folklore, but part of an effort to “purify” Japanese culture which directly led to the birth of the “contemporary” form of expansive nationalism. In any case, Hidden Star in Four Seasons and the historical context of information it provides opens the possibilities for much more interesting and unique tengu backstories than just stage 2-worthy beast youkai fare.

To sum up, while individual stories might portray tengu as arriving in Japan from Korea (Tarōbō), China (Zegaibō and his prototype Chira Yōju) or even India (an anonymous tengu in Konjaku Monogatari), these reflect the routes across which Buddhism was transmitted to Japan. The tengu as a distinct supernatural creature had elements which originated abroad, obviously, but ultimately represented a strictly Japanese contribution to Buddhist demonology. At least some Japanese authors were already aware of this in the middle ages, as evidenced by the Shasekishū.

The three meanings of 天狗 - the tiangou, the astral object and the tengu - are explicitly described as distinct from each other in the encyclopedia Jakushōdō Kokkyōshū (寂照堂谷響集) compiled by the monk Unshō (運敞; 1614–1693). The original tiangou is described here as a type of tanuki which eats snakes, but this doesn’t exactly contradict the Chinese description I’ve mentioned before, as 狸, the character referring to wildcat in Chinese, was adopted to represent the name of tanuki in Japanese. The astral tiangou is described as a “tengu star” (天狗星, tengu-sei) which has the form comparable to a dog. Unshō stresses that both of these are distinct from the Japanese tengu, despite their names being written identically. He places the tengu in the entourage of Mara, alongside dakinis and vinayakas (in this context demons representing something like an evil counterpart of Ganesha as a remover of obstacles).

Beyond animals: the long nose tengu and Sarutahiko

A Meiji period depiction of Sarutahiko (wikimedia commons)

A final matter which needs to be addressed here is a theory that tengu imagery is derived from Sarutahiko, which for some reason has been placed in the lead of the tengu article on wikipedia despite being hardly relevant academically. This proposed connection relies on the fact that from the very beginning Sarutahiko was described as long-nosed. In the section of the Nihon Shoki dealing with the “age of the gods”, the oldest text he appears in, it is said that “his nose is 7 feet long”. His other physical characteristics are also exaggerated, to be fair - he is said to be unusually tall, and his eyes are enormous too. All around, this description is presumably meant to make him seem intimidating. Still, the nose is what visual arts tend to highlight, sometimes for comedic purposes.

A long-nosed tengu, as depicted by Hokusai (wikimedia commons)

This characteristic also led to a development of a folkloric connection between Sarutahiko and the one type of tengu depictions I haven’t discussed yet - the long-nosed tengu, commonly called daitengu or “great tengu”. The origin of this iconographic variant remains poorly understood. While by far the most recognizable today, they are a relatively recent artistic convention - the oldest examples only date to the late fifteenth or early sixteenth century, and they only became widespread in the Edo period. By then, tengu were present in Japan for some 700 years, and Sarutahiko doesn’t come up in sources describing them (and vice versa).

It also needs to be stressed that while the daitengu still have some birdlike traits, Sarutahiko lacks a connection to birds altogether. Instead, he is associated with monkeys (tengu never are, contrary to an unsourced claim on wikipedia). Historically he could even be identified with Daigyōji (大行事), a deity from Mount Hiei depicted with the head of a macaque.

It’s not impossible that the specific long-nosed type of tengu depictions was based on depictions of Sarutahiko, but it’s equally likely the influence actually went into the opposite direction (most depictions of Sarutahiko are from the Edo period or later, and most shrines dedicated to him are fairly recently established too, even though he was worshiped in one form or another through earlier periods already).

A statuette of a dancer wearing a Raryō-ō costume by Shōmin Unno (Imperial Household Agency; reproduced here for educational purposes only)

Bernard Faure notes it’s also not impossible that both Sarutahiko’s iconography and the long-nosed tengu are simply both reflections of something else altogether, and suggests the long-nosed Raryō-ō (羅陵王; sometimes shortened to Ryō-ō, 陵王) masks used in bugaku performances as one possible candidate. Ultimately none of these possibilities can be proven conclusively, though, and it’s best to maintain caution.

ZUN seems to believe there is some truth to the proposal that tengu were derived from Sarutahiko, judging from the fact he referenced this connection multiple times in various ways. The oldest example are Aya’s spell cards in Mountain of Faith. It also comes up in Symposium of Post-Mysticism, where Miko and Byakuren seem to basically treat it as a fact. Aya in one of the short articles from the same book declares that “when it comes to white beard in Gensokyo, we tend to picture Sarutahiko. (...) he is also the god of us tengu”. Putting aside the latter claim, which is bit of a reach when it comes to real beliefs, it’s worth noting that the mention of the white beard is a pretty deep cut. It was actually not a part of Sarutahiko’s original iconography, but rather an addition which developed at the Shirahige Shrine on the shores of Lake Biwa. Originally the local deity, Shirahige Myōjin (白鬚明神), was considered a distinct figure. However, at some point he came to be identified with Sarutahiko, and the names seem to be used interchangeably in medieval and later sources. As a result, the latter received the former’s signature white hair and beard.

While despite the existence of a genuine connection it is a stretch to call Sarutahiko a “god of tengu”, let alone their leader, this does not mean that figures which can be described this way are absent from tradition. In fact, I mentioned a number of them in passing in the previous sections. However, describing them in more detail a topic for another article. Look forward to "Tenma, boss of the tengu". Exploring the "heavenly demon(s)", coming next year!

Bibliography

Yasurō Abe, The Book of “Tengu”: Goblins, Devils and Buddhas in Medieval Japan

Bernard Faure, Protectors and Predators (Gods of Medieval Japan vol. 2)

Idem, Rage and Ravage (Gods of Medieval Japan vol. 3)

Michael Daniel Foster, The Book of Yokai. Mysterious Creatures of Japanese Folklore

Sarah Fremerman Aptilon, Goddess Genealogy: Nyoirin Kannon In The Ono Shingon Tradition in: Charles Orzech, Richard Payne & Henrik Sørensen (eds.), Esoteric Buddhism and the Tantras in East Asia

Wilburn N. Hansen, When Tengu Talk. Hirata Atsutane's Ethnography of the Other World

Richard E. Strassberg, A Chinese Bestiary: Strange Creatures from the Guideways Through Mountains and Seas

Xiaosu Sun, Liu Qingti's Canine Rebirth and Her Ritual Career as the Heavenly Dog: Recasting Mulian's Mother in Baojuan (Precious Scrolls) Recitation

Haruko Wakayabashi, The Seven Tengu Scrolls. Evil and the Rhetoric of Legitimacy in Medieval Japanese Buddhism

Idem, Monks, Sovereigns, and Malign Spirits: Profiles of Tengu in Medieval Japan

Duncan Ryūken Williams, The Other Side of Zen: A Social History of Sōtō Zen Buddhism in Tokugawa Japan

#touhou #okina matara #aya shameimaru #byakuren hijiri #tengu

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the-s1lly-corner · 5 months ago

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Various crps x reader w/ anxiety

Pretend I'm yapping away here.. as a side note does anyone have any easy dinner ideas? Or just meals in general

Characters: hoodie, eyeless jack, slenderman

Notes: reader is GN, based off of admins own experience with anxiety so it's not a reflection of everyones experience

CWs: mental health stuff

SLENDERMAN

hes always around to make sure youre in good health and not in danger, he may be a little lost on why youre feeling on edge for seemingly no reason

not much of a talker, but a good listener even if he doesnt always fully understand why youre feeling unwell

something something forest creature whos learning about humans in a more complex way my beloved trope

thinks you may be physically sick, tries to lessen the work load on you and keeps you in bed until you explain whats wrong

unless your anxiety is making you feel physically sick, then hes going to keep doing that so you can take it easy

eliminates any outside stuff that can worsen how youre feeling; media, people, and so on

will make you focus on just him if he has to

HOODIE

i still adore the headcanon that hoodie is pretty touch based when it comes to his partner, so as long as you tell him youre okay with him touching you when youre in a bad state, hes going to at minimum hold your hand

comfort squeezes

on the flip side if you dont want to be touched, hes going to be respecting that and keep his hands to himself

if you have any comfort items that hes aware of hes going to give them to you

if it makes you feel better, he may even take his mask off so you can better read him- he wants you to feel safe and at ease

will take you outside to get some fresh air as long as its not storming out

actually pretty good at enforcing grounding techniques for you when you inform him of them

EYELESS JACK

hes less emotional and more.. logical... if that makes sense. he doesnt mean to be blunt or dismissive, hes just more of a reasoner than a comforter

does his best to relate to you when your anxiety flares up, tries to talk you through it to see if theres anything triggering it... and if its "just because", then he does what he can to get your mind off of it

learns what works for you and what your triggers are as time passes, reacts accordingly in order to make you feel better

if you have meds he makes sure you take them, also general hc he also makes sure youre not mixing your meds with anything that could cause issues (other meds, alcohol, ect ect ect)

has his own struggles himself, though a lot of it is internalized and/or met with rationalizing it; hence the potential coldness in that first line

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta imagine #crp x reader #crp x you #crp imagine #slenderman x reader #slenderman imagine #slenderman x you #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack x you #eyeless jack imagine #hoodie x reader #hoodie x you #hoodie imagine #canon x reader #canon x you #x reader

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cloverdaisies · 1 year ago

Text

NOWHERE TO RUN

tbz scream (1996) au

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 @: cloverdaisies

description: if the landline rings, remember to answer the questions 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭. you don’t want to be locked in a house with a masked killer. a tbz au based on & inspired by (scream 1996).

warnings: mentions of violence, murder, blood. this is a work of fiction !!! however, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 … 🔪💀

member: tbz x you

channel: @deoboyznet

word count: 5k+

NEWS ANCHOR: “The murder of two high school students in the small town of Saltclover has led to the closure of their local high school due to an outbreak of pranks. Students wearing a costume sold as the grim reaper or as their calling it ‘ghost face’ have been heartlessly terrorizing this suburban school after the incident. This is Madeline Fox, Channel One News.”

♫ PSYCHO KILLER - TALKING HEADS plays faintly in the distance. ♫

🔪 10PM IN SALTCLOVER, 30th October 1996

“AGHHH!” A group of kids scream as a man adorning a ghostface mask whips his around from the corner of a tree. Then they scream again as they see another one behind them.

“Got ‘em.” Juyeon rips the mask of his face, high fiving Changmin as they both chuckle with enlightenment.

“Guys it’s not funny to be wearing those, nevermind scaring the little ones.” You sigh, stood on the front porch with a bowl of candy tucked between your elbow.

“They’re literally middle schoolers, too old to be trick or treating anyway. Besides what? You scared?” Changmin laughed, rubbing the mask in your face before walking inside, Juyeon chuckling shortly behind him.

The crackling of the log fire in the living room created a warm ambience, lighting up the room in an orange light. Duvets and pillows all messily lined across the floor as halloween played on the television on the opposite side of the room.

“And then she screams, the ghost is right behind her. She runs away he catches her and guts her like a fish. It was all a dream though.” Changmin burst into maniacal laughter before tucking himself into the sheets beneath him.

“What if, he caught her, bit off her fingers and became known as the finger ghost.” Juyeon adds with spooky jazz hands, crouched in front us, the both of them kept chuckling and watching your reactions, but nothing.

“You guys, two people we know literally died can you not take this a little bit more seriously?” You asked cocking an eyebrow towards the two boys who stared back blankly.

“The more fear you feel, the more you manifest the danger y/n.” Changmin sighed, grabbing the television remote began flicking the channels for another movie.

Eventually all the horror films that you’d all seen around 3 times over sent all 3 of you to sleep. As you slept soundly with locked doors, closed blinds, a black cat perched upon your windowsill looking out into the moon.

🔪7PM SALTCLOVER, 31st October 1996

♫ BACKSTREET BOYS - EVERYBODY, playing through the stereo system. ♫

Halloween was usually a time of harmless fun, where most normally functioning teenagers dressed in silly costumes and pretended they were in a movie as they trashed somebody else’s shitty house party. Unfortunately with a serial murderer running around it was hard for most of society to have fun, knowing someone in a grim reaper mask could show up any second and take your life from your hands. The boys didn’t seem to let such nuisance bother them as they all showed up to your home, wearing costumes from the classics to movie characters to musicians.

“Guys let’s play ring of fire!” Kevin suggested, suitably clothed in a ruby red leather outfit that resembled Michael Jackson’s from the iconic Thriller music video - seemingly he’d put a lot of effort into crafting the costume, that was much like Kevin. The boys each sprant to the kitchen to table, placing a huge cup in the middle of a circle of cards before each looking at Sangyeon hopefully, who wore a blue jumpsuit, in hand a Michael Myers Mask from the famous horror movie ‘Halloween’

“Oldest first.” Sunwoo, the green power ranger pointed towards the cards waiting for him to pick, a silly smirk painted on his face. “Youngest last.”

“That’s unfair but whatever.” Sangyeon grabbed a card picking up the 9 of hearts and flashing it to the table. “Nine is rhyme, so death.”

“Breath.” Haknyeon, wearing all black with a batman mask, quickly added as they began to go around the table reciting words that rhymed.

“Why’d you pick that? Because you’re breath stinks?” Hyunjae laughed pulling a silly face to the boy who hid behind a chuckle at the remark.

“I was actually thinking about yours.” Haknyeon replied cleverly, sticking his tongue out like a child and then looking at Sunwoo expectantly.

“Meth.” Sunwoo added bluntly.

“What I’ll be doing when I leave this place.” Chanhee, rolled his eyes taking a polite chug of his drink since he couldn’t think of a word that rhymed. He wore all red with glitter on his eyes, his skin glowed off the colour and his neatly arranged side part brought everything together.

The sound of the landline ringing and rattling on the kitchen wall interrupted the circle, Sangyeon sighed and got up as the rest of the boys chatted and carried on with the game.

“Hello Sangyeon. You know …”A mysterious low voice taunted him on the other end of the line, you could almost here the cheshire cat grin across the long eerie pause he left. “I think there’s a snake in the room, I see you’re wearing Michael’s costume quite appropriate for someone who is willing to stab their friends in the back.”

“Who’s this?” Sangyeon furrowed his brows and adjusted his posture as he awaited a reply from the caller.

“Answer the question right to survive, who said this ‘Changmin is so insufferable, I have no idea why we are still friends with him’? Little cut throat to say about a friend right?”

“Oh shutup, prank call another house.” Sangyeon almost let out a cackle at how pathetic the call was in his head, probably just one of their high school friends trying to scare him.

“If you hang up you die. I can see you smiling, how about I cut one into that face of yours smart ass.” The mysterious caller grew angry, spitting down the wire hating the ridicule and how unserious Sangyeon thought he was.

“Okay, listen I said it and what?” Sangyeon smiled, since he knew the answer even if this guy was going to kill him, he was going to be correct anyways.

“Incorrect.” The caller replied with a dubious snicker, the sound of him licking his lips grotesquely sounded crystal clear through the speaker.

“What?” Sangyeon laughed in disbelief, he definitely had said that to a few people before so there was no way on earth it wasn’t him - at least in his mind.

“Sunwoo said it, you agreed remember? Don’t you?” Suddenly, Sangyeon’s memory jogged, despite having repeated Sunwoo’s words he wasn’t the first person to say such a thing.

“Who are you?” Sangyeon demanded to know the caller’s identity, his anger made evident as he gritted his teeth and gripped the halloween mask between his fist damp with fear.

“You didn’t even get to the next round. It was horror movie trivia! Snakes don’t survive in this world and as they always say oldest first!” The caller laughed before the phone was slammed into the receiver by Sangyeon, who then stormed up to the bathroom to cool off.

“What’s wrong with him?” Sunwoo asked, as he looked around at the silence on the table, the boys each staring blankly at each other as if there was something he’d missed whilst he’d went to retrieve a beer.

“Well, I walked past and whoever was on the phone said he’d been talking about Changmin behind his back with Sunwoo.” Jacob replied talking a sip of his drink obliviously, wearing a red polo and green apron with a shitty cardboard prop that read “PIZZA DELIVERY” in his own hand writing.

“Listen Changmin, we didn’t mean it like that-.” Sunwoo tried to excuse himself before Changmin who had dressed as Chucky slammed his palms on the table and walked out, tears in his eyes, into the garden for some air, Hyunjae following closely behind him in his Boy George costume.

“Guys we shouldn’t figh-” Younghoon tried to mediate but ultimately failed, the white garments and halo clearly not doing him any favors in trying to play peacemaker in this little argument.

“Let’s not try solve this right now, quite frankly I can’t be bothered.” Juyeon slammed his beer down on the table next to you, picking up the lasso for his Indiana Jones get up and also walking out on to the patio to observe the night.

“Roger that.” Eric further got up, his blonde hair slicked back and an orange scarf tied around his neck. He made probably the most accurate ‘Fred’ from scooby doo you’d ever seen.

🔪 HEY Y/N, WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?

🔪.

It made you happy to see everyone dressed up and get together at times like this, however you couldn’t bare to see everyone argue over such childish stuff like he said this? he that? bullshit.

Still the party is lively nethertheless, Juyeon appears from the patio seemingly having brought more beers from the garage in his hands.

Before he even began to speak a bloodcurdling scream bellows through the hallways, the sound of footsteps dashing downstairs and muffled tears getting closer to the kitchen.

“It’s Sangyeon, he’s dead! The front door is wide open, someone came in and killed him.” Chanhee screams, the palms of his hands covered in blood, trembling in fear with tears falling down his face. Juyeon gets up and dashes up the stairs followed by Sunwoo and soon Hyunjae as he hears the commotion.

Kevin calls the police, on the kitchen landline and you run to hug Chanhee and sit up down on one of the chairs as you shush and cradle him.

Soon sirens were arriving and red and blue lights flashed through the windows, who could of done this? It can’t be one of us? Surely.

🔪. 2.AM IN SALTCLOVER, 1st November 1996

News Anchor: “A killer is indeed on the loose, at a local house party where locals teens were celebrating the halloween season, they found their friend in the bathroom murdered. The police have advised no one to leave their homes until further notice.”

♫ SOMEBODYS WATCHING ME - ROCKWELL ♫ playing over the following scene.

“I mean how did he even get into my house? You don’t understand I’m terrified!” You fiddle with the wire of the telephone as the police search through your home. Eric on the other end of the line agrees, tries to calm you down a little bit, but at the same time he’s seemingly also chill about the situation.

You’d all been questioned on the scene, and whilst they tried to catch the killer who could be nearby, any extra evidence collection was postponed until further notice.

“We’re all done here.” A police officer pops his head through the crack of your door, you quickly ended the call, briefly saying bye to Eric. “Are you sure you’ll be okay tonight?” He further asked taking off his hat and giving you a comforting smile.

“Yeah I’ll manage.” You reply with a nod, knowing you were smart enough to keep everything under control on your own.

As the officer and forensic clean up team left, you closed your bedroom door feeling to ill to use the upstairs bathroom with the events of tonight. Before the landline began to rattle and ring on your bedside table again.

“What Eric?” You laugh picking up the phone expecting him to be there on the other end of the line again like he always was, yapping for hours and unable to control his talkative tendencies.

“Hi y/n.. how’s your evening.” A low unrecognizable male voice speaks through the line, you tangle your fingers in the wire and stand to look out of your bedroom window.

“Who’s this?” You ask with an eyebrow raised, a shiver tickling your spine at the sheer depth of his voice.

“How about I get to know you first, what’s your favorite horror movie?” He asked tauntingly, his breath heavy and menacing.

“Hmm.. Probably Friday the 13th why?” You answered the question before rolling your eyes, thinking a man had probably been looking for people to prank call in yellow pages and stumbled across you.

“Well answer me this question, I can see you looking outside but no one is there honey.” He spoke with a sly chuckle after pretty much every word he said and that’s when slight fear started to cross your mind.

“Exactly no one’s there, you’re just trying to scare me liar.” You laugh at him trying to scare you, after all there’s plenty of creeps out there and so many ghostface wannabes. He couldn’t possibly strike twice in one night.

“Oh but don’t you see I am.” With that a firework was set off on your front porch causing your breath to fall short, watching the red lights hit your window causing you to fall back on to your bed clumsily.

“What do you want from me?” You tremble slightly but assert confidence in your voice as he tries to taunt you from the outside.

“Oh I just want you to answer my questions.” You could hear the nature from outside, the trees rustling behind him as he spoke.

“What if I just hang up?” You asked before you heard him begin shouting down the line in a vicious tone about how idiotic you were being.

“Then I’ll gut you like a fish you clever bitch.” He spat clearly violently annoyed you were not taking him seriously, which irked him to the core. Covering your mouth, you realized he was being serious, this is what happened to Sangyeon on the phone? tears beginning to well as he begins to ask his question.

“In the movie Friday the 13th, what happened to the camp in 1958 that made it close?” He asked you a question about the movie you’d seen so many times, you can’t possibly get it wrong.

“Oh,I know this! Jason drowned and everyone thought he was dead..” You bit your lip anxiously, hand shaking, but you knew it ! That’s how Jason got away with it, they all thought he was dead!

“Incorrect. That was in 1957, there was a serial murder at the camp in 1958-” After he spoke those words you slammed the phone down, you should have thought more about your answer but you couldn’t help but think he would have killed you if you’d gotten it right anyway.

You almost wanted to crawl into a hole as the phone line ended, before you heard an immense crash echoing through halls and coming the front door. Footsteps creaking on the staircase, the end was near as the black fabric of his suit trailed the wooden floors.

You grabbed your star light, the metal cage that housed a bulb was the sharpest object in the room before creeping towards your bedroom door, locking it, ready to strike. You weren’t the dumb character in their horror movie, you were the smart one who put up a fight, you will be the one that escapes.

A knock at your door made your heart beat faster before a series of banging, splitting the wood of the door as the killer burst through in the grim reaper mask, gripping a sharp silver dagger.

You threw the lamp with every bit of strength and the killer fell to the ground with the metal wires of the light lodged in his stomach. You ran past him before he got up and chased you down the staircase, grabbing anything on your way and throwing it right at him. You tried to get out the front door but it was bolted shut and ghostface mask grabbed the back of your shirt holding you against him with the knife to your neck. Complying with him by putting your hands up before suddenly breaking free of his grip and pushing his hand away, it was clear he wanted to hear you scream and at least hear you suffer before being able to kill you.

After managing to escape you dash into the kitchen, throwing a chair to break the patio doors which were likely also locked and ran around towards the back gate, also bolted shut and nowhere near budging.

The killer stood at the end of the alleyway next to your house, slowly stepping closer as your back pressed against the back gate. Next to your foot there was a brick that prevented the gate from swinging open in the night, grabbing it you lobbed it straight towards the killer, hitting him square where he was already injured.

“How dare you kill my friends asshole.” You yelled at the top of your lungs before placing both feet on the metal bars of the fence and jumping over with a struggle, barely landing on your feet. You ran onto the street in front of your house and yelled for help, before you saw headlights driving towards you.

The worn down brick red car only belonged to one person you knew, Juyeon who stuck his head out of the window and called your name as you looked at him with fear in your eyes. Panicked with no other option, you ran towards the passenger door swung it open with the last of your strength and got in.

“Darling what happened?” Juyeon looked at you with concern, his eyes then scanning the wind mirrors and rear view as you told him to drive over and over again in pure terror that you wouldn’t make it out in time.

“He got in again, he was asking me about all these horror movies and tried to kill me-“ You rambled on out of breath, your body covered in tiny cuts and bruises from all the falling and colliding with things.

“Well you escaped, that’s the main thing.” The only words Juyeon could find were those, as he exhaled his smoke with the burning cigarette he held outside the car window.

“I guess so, why are you driving up here anyway?” You manage to gather your thoughts and slightly move away from the original problem at hand, since if you thought about it anymore you would force yourself into a heart attack.

“I was actually coming to check on you, I mean your parents being away is not exactly ideal in the current climate. Your phone line has been engaged for the past hour.” Despite this being a believable statement, you still couldn’t understand his suspiciously peaceful composure.

You looked at him observing his tranquil features as he looked back you with a pair of innocent doe eyes, almost a face you believed read “how could little ol’ me do anything wrong?” Perhaps you were overthinking everything.

“What?” He looked at you confused, making sure to do a double take at the face you were pulling. “You don’t think I’m the killer do you?” He added a slight chuckle of disbelief before pointing to himself with his other hand on the wheel.

“No. Obviously not. He was in the house, you’re here.” You shake away your thoughts and turn your attention to the view from out the window, the houses, the cars and anything else you could analyze but him.

“I think you’re suspicious, I can’t lie.” He took another puff of the cigarette and shook his head, the black streak of hair he kept gelled moving towards one side.

“I’m not! The more you say I am the more I’m going to assume.” You started to get a bit frustrated with his assuming accusations and and waved your hands to confirm your point just to end his train of words.

“Yeah well you know I wouldn’t to do that to you.” He sighed, flicking the but out of the window and returning both hands to the wheel with a sad face.

🔪5AM SALTCLOVER, 1st November 1996

🚔 COUNTY SHERRIF’S POLICE DEPARTMENT

“Deputy Lee I swear I’m telling the truth. He was there the phone rang, my patio door is smashed through because I was trying to escape.” You try to plea with the officer questioning you, seemingly not believing your story since the door had been smashed through the wrong way at the back.

“I mean look at her she’s all cut up, I don’t understand why you can’t believe her. It will be her next if you don’t do anything, just record it for your brothers sake” Juyeon chimed in, being a witness and also arriving just in time to save you from the mess.

“Look I’ll record it y/n, because it’s you and I know you wouldn’t do that to me. But if you are lying to me and giving false leads you’ll hear about it. Don’t bring my brother into this again.” Deputy Lee was unfortunately Sangyeon’s brother and having to work on a case that involved the murder of his little brother was clearly taking a toll on him, like the rest of us he looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks.

🔪 LEE JUYEON’S HOUSE, FARMLAND OUTSKIRTS OF SALTCLOVER

“Did he wear the costume?” Hyunjae burst in with the rest of the boys, his first question being rather on brand for his lack of care about the situation since all he knew about murder was the movies. Maybe that was his coping mechanism.

“Did he threaten to slice your guts?” Changmin further asked in the parade of questions, not asking if you were okay first because in his eyes, ‘oh well you look fine.’

“Are you okay?” Younghoon asked, Kevin and Chanhee crouching beside the bed you were sat on and making an effort to hold your hand and smile at you bitter sweetly.

“She’s staying here whilst her house is investigated top to bottom for trace of the killer, plus she’s much safer here.” Juyeon stood beside you, his arms folded across the clean white tank top he was wearing.

Interrupting the chaos of the entourage that had come to visit you, the landline began to call again faintly heard from the down the stairs.

“y/n it’s for you sweetie.” Juyeon’s Mom stepped through the door with a smile, letting you know she was going out for the night with Juyeon’s stepfather to a salsa party.

“Hi sweetheart, it’s not over yet. Which door am I at? Guess right.” The same mysterious voice almost whispered down the line as your hands begin to tremble.

“No… No.. Stop doing this and leave my friends alone.” You yell as the boys watch you from across the corridor, shaking in fear of their own.

“Which door? you stupid bitch.” The killer on the line grows angry, he could be at any door at any time who knows? You had to get this right, you can’t lose anymore friends.

“The patio.” You blurted out thinking of the patterns in horror movies and how he would usually break in the past few weeks.

“Incorrect.” He laughed at your petrified screaming, making a fake buzzer noise across the line to taunt you. With that the bathroom swung open revealing ghostface, you began running into the bedroom and locking the door. Juyeon grabs a pistol from beneath his bed and aims at the door that was thrashing. Hyunjae grabs a chair whilst the others hide behind the bed.

The killer wearing the costume store ghostface bursts in, snatches the chair from Hyunjae and battles with him, eventually crushing him beneath the chair as the others scream. Juyeon guides you out of the room behind him and hides you in the closest closet whilst he stands outside telling the others where to hide.

You could hear Sunwoo above all the screaming seemingly battling with Juyeon to get him to move to his own hiding spot, whereas Juyeon insisted he had the weapon he had to be the one to get rid of the killer.

“Don’t kill me. Please this isn’t a god damn movie and I want to be in the sequel.” You heard a shrill voice from outside the closet, muffling your whimpers you clamp your hand over your mouth, until all falls silent on the upper floor and chaos sounds out downstairs. You burst out of the wardrobe to see that Juyeon is gone and on the floor lies Chanhee still breathing but barely, stab wounds oozing with blood across his body.

“Chanhee get in the wardrobe I’ll be back, I’m so sorry.” Tears of fear falling from your eyes like mini waterfalls, as you helped him into the safe place and closed it gently to not alert anyone of his whereabouts, he can survive this, you just have to be quick.

You ran into the kitchen where you saw Eric, knife in hand trying to fend of the murderer but clearly to scared to even use the weapon, you grabbed one of the tall breakfast bar stools and pinned the killer to the counter with its legs with all the adrenaline you had you were able to move quick enough.

“WHO ARE YOU?! TAKE THE MASK OFF.” You screamed at him as he was stuck, he surrendered and brought his hand to his head, gently tugging off the mask.

There stood Changmin drenched in red smudges of blood, smiling like a maniac and laughing at the scene as if you were nothing to him. These years of friendship were nothing to him, what happened? Why? Too many thoughts crossed your mind upon seeing him of all people behind the mask that you almost dropped the strength of the chair you were holding.

“What happened to you? Have you become a psycho, you’ve watched too many damn movies.” You spat with unreal fits of rage at how a friend could’ve done this to all of you, how could he kill his lifelong best friends? After just a few horror movies…

“Psychos are psychos y/n don’t you dare blame it on the movies.” He used the phone voice changer to taunt you. before pushing the chair and you to the ground and grabbing your arm twisting it behind your back and holding a black handheld gun to your head.

“Where’s Juyeon? Where’d you get that gun?” You panicked as you saw the item in his hand, struggling to release yourself from his grip as Eric stayed cornered in the kitchen not knowing whether to strike or not.

“It’s all part of the game y/n, you should have answered the questions right.” Changmin laughed cackling at how pathetic your fear had become to him, that sweet boy you knew years ago had lost himself to a few movies.

“Don’t touch her.” Another ghostface mask appears, there can’t be two, all along there was two? Who else would have done this to you? The mask is pulled off revealing Hyunjae?… “The deal was you wouldn’t touch her.”

“And the deal is off.” Changmin smiled with a cheerful voice, clearly being the mastermind of the situation between the two of them. Shock overtook your fear and you broke out of Changmin’s grip with a sharp snap.

They began to argue like children before Hyunjae snatched the gun out of Changmin’s grip with a struggle, shooting him to the ground.

“Princess don’t be angry. He made me do it, he told me we would be together and we could be happy just us two.” Hyunjae stepped closer to you wielding the gun in his hands, pointing it closer towards you without a finger on the trigger.

“No Hyunjae, you’re a fucking psychopath. You were apart of this all along.” You couldn’t hold back the tears of betrayal that fell from your eyes, as he took the gun and traced it down your jawline looking at you with bright proud eyes.

In the corner of your eyes, you saw Juyeon quietly sneaking into the room, his torso littered with stab wounds blood seeping through his white tank top, visibly and seriously injured. However in his hand, he held the dagger of the original killer, you stayed quiet, not looking at him and stalling Hyunjae who had you pinned against the counter.

“It’s almost over now darling, just Eric left! be my prize! Just me and you, everyone else is gone! They’re dead! Although you would look gorgeous with your guts loose too.” He looked at you with the same bright eyes he always did, as if nothing he was doing was wrong he was about to turn to kill Eric, however, that’s when he screamed.

Juyeon pushed him to the ground, the dagger slicing straight through his chest, blood seeping through the costume as Hyunjae groaned in the pain he’d been able to deal but not tolerate.

“It’s over for you, asshole. Who’s scary movie is it now?” Juyeon laughed before wincing, the hole in his own stomach bleeding profusely.

“Juyeon lie down.” You grabbed the back of his head as he began to fall to the ground, you had no tears left to cry and now you had to be the strong one. You lied him down and began putting pressure on his wound.

“POLICE!” Deputy Lee walks into to the kitchen, mortified at the scenes of the house, it was over, it was all over. The surviving boys were rushed into hospital to recover, for you and Eric it was time to heal emotionally together, because it was all you had.

🔪6AM SALTCLOVER, 5TH NOVEMBER 1996

And in the end, it was most of the boys that survived their injuries, having lost most of your childhood friends it was rough but after living a life of loss, you had to deal with what you had.

Haknyeon wasn’t doing well, he’d managed to escape the house that night but entered intensive therapy and you’d visit him sometimes but he didn’t seem to trust you guys since the entire thing. Fair enough.

On the bench seated outside the hospital, you held 4 bouquets of flowers, one for Juyeon who saved you that night, One for Sunwoo for being so brave and trying to save his friend, one for Chanhee who needed them more than anyone right now even if he wasn’t awake.

“Eric?” You asked kicking your legs waiting for the visiting hours to open on the hospital ward they were situated.

“Hm?” He hummed, listening to music through his walkman and looking up at you thoughtfully.

“Do you think we could have changed things?” You asked with a sigh, the question that had plagued your mind for weeks.

“Probably. But it’s over now, we’re safe.” He replied and brought you into his touch to pat your head comfortingly as the birds sang melodies of the early morning around you.

It was all over, but unfortunately you’d lost too much.

“I just can’t believe they’re gone.” You burst into tears as Eric brought you in for a hug immediately, trying to hush you back into composure.

That’s if you believe they’re dead, or is it all just a game.

🔪.

a/n: so guys ! happy late spooky season 🎃 here at cloverdaisies! this has been in the works for a while and i would love to thank @winterchimez for proofreading my plot and @kimsohn encouraging me to finish it ! 🤍 if you’re reading this remember to go support deoboyznet!! you’ll find plenty other fics and writers there if you don’t know about it already :) ! this fic may not be everyone’s cup of tea but it certainly is mine ! this is massive dedication to original scream franchise, one of my biggest interests outside of kpop… it’s a bit longer than usual for me as well but yk <3

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