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prof-peach · 4 years ago

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Hello professor, I have a pretty heavy question I’m afraid, but I’m running out of people to ask, so I’ll try my best to keep it PG13.

It’s my Mienshao, Daisy. Up until recently, she and I were members of a police task force tasked with rooting out illegal Pokemon smuggling rings and underground high stakes tournaments. We’ve been partners for a long time, me and Daisy, we grew up together, and I dare say we made a great team. But then things went wrong.

For the sake of security I can’t go into too much detail, but we were participating in a raid when we got ambushed. Someone must have tipped the smugglers off, because they were waiting for us when we got there. During the firefight, there was an explosion, a gas tank got set on fire by a charizard, I believe, and Daisy and I happened to be close. She got out with a few minor burns and scrapes, I... Did not.

I’ll spare you the gory details, but I have been confined to a wheel chair ever since, and I am due to be fitted for a prosthetic leg next week.

I won’t lie, the transition has been hard for everybody, me, my friends, my family. My other Pokémon have been hovering around me like over protective nannies for weeks. But I think out of all of us, Daisy has been taking it the hardest. Half of the day she spends locked to my side like a bodyguard, threatening to punch anyone that gets too close into oblivion. And the other half, well...

She’s started putting herself through some kind of hellish self training routine. Doing katas until she all but collapses from exhaustion, running laps for hours, fighting every Pokemon she can convince to fight, wild or trained. Daisy’s always been tough, and she’s always loved training, but this... This isn’t training, it’s a death march. I’m getting extremely worried, and that’s not even everything!

She’s stopped eating her favorite foods, deliberately choosing ones I know she hates, she won’t let me pet her anymore, she just steps out of reach, trying not to look at me. But most worryingly, she’s started cutting off her whiskers. She’s always been so proud of her whiskers, she groomed them every day, always got grumpy when I teased her for having a big ol’ mustache. Now anytime they get longer than an inch, she slices them off with her claws and throws them in fireplace, like some kind ceromony.

I’m almost certain Daisy feels guilty for coming out mostly unscathed, when I didn’t. She’s always been a bit protective, even before we joined the police, and she’s saved my life multiple times out in the field, but now she feels like she’s failed me, I think. I’ve tried to convince her that it wasn’t her fault, but that only seems to redouble her efforts. I’m terrified she’s going to burn herself out if she keeps going like this, and I don’t know what to do.

I know this is a pretty heavy question, but I I’m not sure who else to ask. Is there anything I can do to convince her that she doesn’t need to hurt herself like this? Or, something? Just anything to help! Losing my leg was jarring, but losing Daisy would be unbearable!... I just... I just want my best friend to be okay.

I am sorry for what you’ve been through, I cannot begin to understand what it’s like to be in your shoes, but like all recovery, physical or mental, this will take a fair bit of time to get past, you both may never fully return to how things were, but it can get better and you can both return to a full life together with work and dedication.

I’ve certainly seen Pokemon go to extreme lengths after dangerous incidents to protect their loved ones or themselves, in this case it would be wise to assume your pokemons suffering with a hefty bill of PTSD, and needs some actual therapy to handle the feelings and thoughts they’re having. We have facilities to accommodate that if you’re local to Johto, but most Pokemon centres will be able to put you in contact with reliable and certified practices to begin unravelling the issues that now plague Daisy.

That she considers herself to have come away reasonably unscathed is not true, yes your life has physically changed, but she needs to step back and take a look at her life too. Everything’s different now, and more specifically how she’s treating herself and handling her feelings. If that’s not trauma and injury, I don’t know what else it could be. You both came away with damage that day, physical or not. The first step is to help her see that, and to begin to understand that despite this all, you can both continue to move forward together if you can overcome the injury together, it is an event you shared, and you two can aid each others recovery with time and care.

There’s some seriously gifted therapists out there, those who study for years and can help far more than me, they’ll take time to break down the events, and start to really get into the feelings that your partner is going through. The cycle for Daisy right now comes around to self-punishment, and seems to be stuck on a loop. She needs time and space to process her feelings of guilt, grief, fear and loss, facing them instead of burying herself in her rigorous training. While it is difficult to discuss, you two have a strong bond that means you could talk with her. Try to remind her who’s truly responsible, she may be blaming herself, which is pretty common in these situations, but at the root of it, you were doing your routine job, and the bad guys, the Pokemon smugglers and goons are to blame. THEY caused the issue, not her, and while it may not sink in right away it’s worth saying, and sticking to. You said you told her that it wasn’t her fault, which is the gut reaction, perhaps giving her a logical target instead of herself will work better for now. Reiterating the true issue, and taking the heat off of her may help with other tasks such as self care, later down the recovery road.

Her guilt will feel terrible, but it kind of works as a protector, keeping her distanced from the worse, more overwhelming feelings of helplessness and powerlessness. In fact the guilt that masks this all will slowly make things worse over time. That underlying intense emotion below the guilt is what you both need to work through, but more than anything, she needs to face it, in her own time, come to terms with it, and eventually (hopefully) come to an understanding that life is an endless cycle of events, things will happen, but you have to pick yourself up and turn the lemons into lemonade. She could have lost you that day, that you came away with your life is a miracle, and now you two get more time together because of that. Luck isn’t something that runs out, it’s not like there’s only so much of it to go around, it is like wining the lottery. Sometimes 20 people win, other times no one does. It’s hard to accept, but there’s no greater order to stuff that happens, but when we can come to this conclusion, it’s oddly freeing. I’ve seen a fair few Pokemon in a symilar state who can move on when they realise there’s an odd randomness to the world and everything that goes on.

This is a job for someone with far greater skills than I, but you must help her by also looking after yourself, laugh when you can, show her that your life is still very full, and that you have loved ones, and joy to share with others. You mentioned that you’re due a prosthetic, and though the transition will be long and no doubt a little difficult at first, getting yourself back on two feet (kind of) will show her, and your other Pokemon that you’re willing to move forward. I think there’s a lot to be said about talking during this all. She wants to fight, to be strong, if this is how she’s going to cope, fine. If she’s out training, sit with her, spend whatever time you can by her side, as she’s taking this the hardest. You don’t have to say a thing, just try to do your best, without putting yourself in too much discomfort or pain. Reminding her who would be devastated if it had been her who got hurt, if she was not around, may help ground her back in reality a bit. You both got granted a gift that day, you came away alive, if she works so hard she burns out, that gift was wasted. She can use her kindness, and strength to help you, she can pass her knowledge and skill forward, but it’s hard to help others, and do your best if you’re exhausted beyond reason. Kind of like trying to give people bread from a basket but the damn basket is empty yknow? You got to take time to refill so you can help those around you again, so you have some bread to give. I know, probably sounds a little dumb but it’s always been the way I remember it.

Another very useful thing I’ve found with trauma survivors would be meeting others who have been in the same position. There’s plenty of support groups for both people and Pokemon who have been through events that left them in a difficult situation, emotionally and physically. Even here at the lab we have many species who have been left without limbs, with life changing damage, and a lot of them also have the emotional trauma too. She would probably do well to spend time with them, you can send her to a resort to retreat and recoup erase, mix with others who were just as angry as she is now, or you can take time to go with her to groups to interact with others. It’s one thing to have humans help, but it’s a whole other level of connection when Pokemon can help their own. They bond quicker, trust faster, and generally are more open to listening when it’s coming from a place of mutual experience. If she had time to talk to pokemon who actually lost their trainers, or parts of themselves, she may find some peace, even if only temporarily.

Don’t mention the whiskers, and where possible don’t offer her foods she actively likes, but also not ones she actively dislikes. Just for now. Start the ball rolling with just plain simple things that are neither good or bad. Indifferent is better than bad right now, the punishment she’s inflicting on herself will need addressing further, so contact a therapist, they use Rotom or porygon to translate from poke-speech to human language, and the repair can begin with a registered professional. My advice is not sound proof, I certainly feel like I have missed something important, it’s a big response, but it’s a start in the right direction, and should you come up to any further issues, message back and update us with what’s going on. With work you two will be on track to recover. Remember, patience is the biggest thing here, you two have history, and a therapist will no doubt take the sessions as a pair, and work with you to help Daisy feel less guilty over time. I hope you both find peace, and that both of you repair in due time. Good luck with the new leg, a step towards recovery for sure.

#pokemon #prof.peach #peach talks #take this one with a pinch of salt #I’m no therapist #but I certainly hope you both find some peace

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otakusheep15 · 3 years ago

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SFW Alphabet - Asmodeus

Asmo is the exact opposite of sfw, but I still think this’ll be fun lol.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He is super affectionate and in multiple ways. He mostly shows his love through verbal praise. He’ll constantly hype you up, even over mundane things. Also really loves physical affection obviously. Not a moment passes where he isn’t touching you in some way. Other than this, he likes buying you things, especially clothes.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

You two go clubbing every single night. He’ll also be the perfect wingman and can get you a date in three seconds. Self-care days are a must for him, and he’ll drag you with him. Shopping trips are also quite common, and you two model outfits in the changing rooms for hours.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

This boy is a sucker for cuddles. One never knows what to expect with him though. Will he simply just lie down and cuddle you? Will he try and go farther? It’ always a gamble getting into bed with him. He also sleeps naked, so prepare for that.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Out of all the brothers, he’s the least likely to settle down. Obviously he loves you, but he is the Avatar of Lust. Chances are, one person just wouldn’t be enough to fulfil his desires, so he’s very hesitant to settle down. If you really beg him, he’ll do it, but he just doesn’t feel like it, and you might just have to accept that from him.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Honestly, it wouldn’t be so much of a breakup as much as him just wanting to see other people as well. Like I said, one person just isn’t enough for him, so he’d still want to keep the relationship open. If you can’t accept that from him, then he’d just break it off with you. He wouldn’t want to be with someone who doesn’t understand him, so he’d just tell you straight up that it isn’t working between you two.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Same with settling down, I just can’t see him wanting to get married. He’s also not very good at commitment honestly. If you plan on getting married, he isn’t the one for you. Again, if you really, REALLY begged for it, he might consider, but it would most likely have to be an open marriage.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He’s surprisingly gentle with you. He still loves you regardless of his sin, and he treats you like royalty. It’s non-stop pampering and sweet words with him. Of course, you two might get into petty arguments here and there, but he’s quick to make up with you and remind you how much he cares.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Hugging is one of his favorite forms of physical affection. In public especially, he’ll usually have an arm wrapped around you, or he’ll be hugging you from behind while you two are just standing. He also likes picking you up and spinning you cause he thinks it’s cute.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He says it pretty fast, but not all that seriously. It’s kinda like how friends say it to each other, so he means it, but not in a couple way. However, the first time he says it and means it is actually takes a lot longer than expected. He’s never been involved in romance too much, so it’s still new to him.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He’s probably the least jealous of the brothers. In all honesty, he’d feel kinda hypocritical if he got jealous over you despite flirting with literally everyone. It’d be more likely that he’d let you do whatever you want as long as you reassure him that he’s still your favorite, and he’ll do the same. If you get super jealous, I’d suggest not dating him lol.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses can go one of two ways. The first are super quick, just a way to show you off to others. The other way is super passionate and filled with emotion. There is no in between with him. He likes kissing you pretty much anywhere, but his favorite is your thighs cause he thinks they’re cute. His favorite place to be kissed is his back since it’s so sensitive.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He thinks kids are cute, but only from a distance. If they even try and come near him, he will punch one. While he does think they’re cute, he also thinks they’re gross, germ-carrying monsters and he will not allow one in his vicinity.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He usually wakes up pretty early cause of his care routine, but he does try his best not to wake you up. If you stay asleep, he’ll get started on his routine and wake you up when he’s done so that you two can go eat. If he does wake you up, he offers for you to join him, or just sit with him while he finishes up.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights are spent mostly the same as the mornings, but in reverse. After dinner, he goes and takes a nice bath and gets ready for bed. Of course, he wants you to join him in the bath, but if you don’t that's fine. He’ll just have you wait for him in his room, and then he’ll get you both ready to sleep. If you don’t want to sleep naked, he understands, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try and convince you to at least once.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He only reveals the shallower side of himself cause that’s all anyone is usually interested in with him. However, once he sees that you mean more to him than anyone else, and that you do truly love him, he’ll begin to open up with you little by little. He’ll begin spilling all of his darkest secrets and insecurities, and he knows that you’d never tell another soul about any of it.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

To be honest, he probably the most passive out of the brothers. I mean, he’ll stand up for you if a demon is harassing you or he’ll get upset if another brother is stealing you away from him too much, but he never gets all that mad about it. The only time he’d get genuinely mad is if someone won’t leave you alone even after you’ve told them to, or if someone actually hurts you.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He pretends like he doesn’t remember anything, but that’s only to surprise you later when he actually does. He’s another brother with a great memory, and he uses it well. You look at something a few second longer than normal while window shopping? Boom, it’s in your room the next day. You have an important day coming up? He’s there, ready to support you however you need.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite moment in your relationship was the first time you two went clothes shopping together. He had so much fun that day, spending the whole time modeling ridiculous outfits that you picked out for each other. You didn’t end up buying much, but it was still fun. After that, you two spend the rest of the day in his room just lounging around and vibing with each other in peace. Maybe something happened later that night, but that’s a secret.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Like the others, he’s super protective of you. He doesn’t show it as often, but he is still there for you no matter what. He’s especially protective of you when you two are out shopping or at a club. He knows how some demons can get when they see a weak human, so he knows he has to keep a constant eye on you. If someone gets too close for his or your liking, they’re getting erased from existence.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He puts in SO much effort. This boy is so over-the-top with literally everything, and this is no exception. To him, you’re almost as perfect as he is, and he needs to show you that. He goes all out for every single date, and will do whatever you want. Honestly, he knows all of your likes and dislikes, so he will cater to whatever you find pleasant.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Obviously, he has a bad habit of flirting with others and getting handsy and honestly that’s not going away. He is the literally embodiment of lust, so there’s no changing how flirty he can be. In fact, the only way a realistic relationship between you would work is if it’s an open relationship, or you have an incredibly high sex drive and a lot of stamina. If neither of those suit you, then it might just not work out in the end.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

His looks are basically his entire life. He prides himself on looking absolutely perfect, so he spends a lot of time dedicated to his beauty routines. After all, he is said to be the most gorgeous demon in all of the Devildom.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Honestly, not really. Yes, he loves you, but he could live without you. After all, he has plenty others at his beck and call, so he honestly wouldn’t mind that much if you left him. At most, he’d feel sad for a few days, but he’d bounce back pretty quickly compared to the others.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

I headcanon him to be genderfluid. And no, not because he’s the feminine one of the brothers. It honestly has to do with his powers. Y’all know how Loki in the original myths was genderfluid and would often shapeshift in order to seduce people? Well, I imagine he would do something similar. Cause, as we know, not everyone likes men. So he’d shapeshift in order to seduce someone. Plus, I could also just see him not really caring about pronouns.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He cannot stand someone who tries to change him. Yes, he understands that his lust can cause problems. No, he cannot change that about himself, even if he wanted to. And if someone tries to force him to stop, it’s an instant deal breaker for him.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

It’s no secret that he likes to sleep naked, but it goes a bit deeper than that. He loves skin-to-skin contact because it makes him feel warm. Not warm as in literally (although it does that too) but it just makes him feel nice. It reminds him of the inner warmth he felt as an angel all those years ago, and he just wants to have that same warmth back.

Note: this one kinda makes it sound like I’m trying to hate on Asmo, but I promise I’m not. I love him very much, and this was not meant to shine a bad light on him at all. I just don’t like when people do relationship headcanons like these with him and treat him as though he’d be 100% loyal all the time. Of course, he loves MC above all else besides himself but he would still flirt with and seduce other people, and I feel like people just kinda sweep that under the rug.

#OBEY ME #shall we date obey me #shall we date asmodeus #asmodeous #headcanon #sfw alphabet

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lovestruckay · 4 years ago

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Request: “How about headcanons of Viktor’s S/O telling him that they love him for the first time? Like his feelings about it? Idkman I just want to cherish the man.”

Pairing: Viktor x Reader

A/N: Thank you for the request, @puppykiva! Viktor deserves to be cherished.

Viktor never thought he would fall in love. With how much he dedicated himself to his pursuit of knowledge, he just never had the time. Every free moment he had was spent either wrapped up in his research, fighting with Company 8, or working on his secret experiments at the hideout. He didn’t even have any time left to work on his music, let alone meet somebody.

Not that he ever really had any real desire to go out and meet anyone anyways. Sure, it could get a little lonely, but his goals were always more important than finding a romantic partner. He didn’t care that he was alone as long as he got the answers he was searching for. He didn’t need anyone to be there next to him, he was satisfied with just his discoveries.

At least, he had thought so until he met you.

From the moment you came into his life, he was fascinated by you. You were a variable he had not accounted for; another mystery to understand, another puzzle to be solved. But the more he learned about you, the more his curiosity grew. The more time he spent with you - the more he saw your smile and heard your voice and your laugh - the more he realized there was something deeper to how he felt about you.

When Viktor realizes he has fallen in love with you, he tries to hide it.

Initially, he attempts to reason away his feelings, citing that you were just incredibly attractive and that you were frequently in each others’ company. He tried to convince himself he was just falling prey to his baser instincts and that he was mistaking companionship for love because of proximity.

When your connection flourishes to the point where he can no longer stop thinking about you, he knows that’s not the case. You are a constant in his thoughts and, when you’re with him, he can’t even think of anything but you.

The more and more time goes on, the more difficult it is for Viktor to hide his feelings. He struggles to hide how his face heats up when you laugh, how he can’t stop looking at you when you’re in the same room together, or how he always comes up with excuses to be near to you.

When you brush against him, he swears you must be able to hear his heart with how hard it pounds in his chest.

He has no idea how to live with these feelings, let alone how to express them and actually tell you. He only had one person he could talk to about the more sensitive topics and the stray dog of the antiheroes was even more awkward with emotions than he was. Passed that, there was no way he was going to ask his boss or, worse yet, his coworkers for love advice.

Viktor discreetly thumbed through a few books at the store but he could never find a chapter on how to confess your feelings to someone. How do you even go about telling someone that you think about them first thing in the morning and last thing before going to sleep and that even your dreams were filled with fantasies of you both in love?

Unable to come up with an answer for this perplexing problem, he resigned himself to suffering in silence as he continued to research. He wanted to get closer to you, to tell you how he felt, but he had no idea how to do so in a way that wouldn’t scare you off. After all, he loved you so much he was happy just having you as a friend if it meant you remained in his life.

Fortunately for you, he is really bad at hiding his feelings for you. You can see right through him like air and so can everyone at Company 8. Even Joker had taken note of his hopeless attraction, attempting to give him dating advice on the sly that was anything but helpful. If anything, Viktor just felt sympathetic for whatever poor soul eventually caught his friend’s eye.

He is so sensitive to everything you do that it’s so easy to tease him. Just brushing against him will have his entire face turning bright red and he will stutter cutely if you hold his hand.

When you finally do confess to him, it takes his breath away.

“I love you,” you tell him and the words come so easily it feels like you had already told him a thousand times before.

It’s in that moment that Viktor realizes that, for being such a brilliant scientist, he was really dumb sometimes. With just those three words, he understands that sometimes the most meaningful confession didn’t come from sonnets or dramatic revelations but by just saying what was in your heart.

You love him, so you told him. Easy as that.

Even with his realizations, Viktor can do nothing but stare at you. It takes his body a long moment to catch up with his mind and, when he finally does snap to, he silently closes the distance between you both.

Gathering you up into his arms, he kisses you.

He pours all of that pent up emotion into his kiss - all of that longing and devotion and all of his love for you that he had been hiding. You get so lost in his lips tenderly moving against yours and in the warmth of his embrace that, when he finally pulls back and presses his forehead to yours, you have to catch your breath.

“I love you too,” Viktor is finally able to confess as he gazes down at you with a gentle smile.

There is so much adoration behind just those four words that you can feel how much he truly loves you as easily as you can feel his arms holding you even tighter.

#viktor licht #viktor licht x reader #fire force x reader #fire force #enn enn no shouboutai #fanfiction

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headboyweasley · 4 years ago

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to my beloved // h.p

pairing : harry potter x reader

summary : when harry learns you’ve gone missing, he hits rock bottom. no one can reach out to him until a peculiar letter ends up in his possession.

warnings : ANGST (happy ending???), swearing, post-war, alcohol/implied alcohol abuse, violence (against inanimate objects), missing person/presumed dead, mentions of food

word count : 1.3k

author’s note : hi!! this is my very first fic posted on tumblr, so i hope you enjoy. i’m actually really proud of this one, as it was inspired by my favorite song “play this when i’m gone” by machine gun kelly. also, thank you for the support on my masterlist! it means the literal world. also my favorite writers followed me and i am freaking out. sorry for the this long note,,, i tend to ramble. enjoy!

( disclaimer : gif is not mine! )

It had been months since the war had ended. While the wizarding world was still healing, the future for it had become hopeful. The threat of war had hung over the heads of the community, so once it had been taken away, everything was reborn. Bustling crowds and children’s laughter had filled Diagon Alley once more; the boarded up shops had now opened up, gleaming with pride. Many felt grateful for this new age.

The last person people expect to be so devastated was Harry Potter. Afterall, he was the one that killed Voldemort. Good things don’t happen to heroes, as someone had once told him. He gave everyone that hope, but he couldn’t find it in himself. Why, you may ask? Well, my friend, he found out you were among the missing people in the aftermath of the war. The love of his life, his sunshine, his darling had been snatched from him.

Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but sometimes he wishes that he hadn’t gone to the forest to face Voldemort. Sometimes he wishes he had hid away in Shell Cottage with you and grown old together. When he decided that was selfish, he tried to find other ways he could have won that war with you by his side.

He knew he couldn’t. What happened was the only true ending.

A sigh fell from his lips as the bottle was barely held by the tip of his fingers. The bedroom reeked of firewhiskey, which wasn’t a surprise since there was a surplus of them scattered across the floor. He took a final sip before letting this bottle join the rest.

Of course, Ron and Hermione had attempted to help. They had kept it up for a couple months through staying at his home and making meals for him. Hermione tried reading to him, while Ron kept his friend updated with Quidditch and the Weasley family. This had come to an abrupt halt, though, after a particularly angry outburst from Harry. They had given him one last look of sympathy before apparating.

That had been months ago, and since then, Harry had been trapped inside his mind and flat.

“You never do anything fucking right. First, you lose the love of your life. Next, you ruin the relationship between you and your best friends. You’re fucking alone, and you’re going to die that way.” He seethed with anger just looking at himself in the small mirror. He continued to glare at himself for a few more minutes before grabbing the mini dresser and slamming it into the floor.

Glass shattered, while his old Hogwarts uniform and merchandise tumbled out. Violence was an often thing for the items in his home. Usually after a bottle and self-degrading speech, he’d destroy something to let the anger fizzle. The aftermath of this, though, was a bit of a coping mechanism, as he would fix things by hand instead of using magic. It let his mind breathe; focus on anything but his self-hatred.

He crouched down to pick up his Gryffindor scarf, wrapping it around himself and relishing in its warmth with shut eyes. It reminded him of the freezing wind that nipped at his skin whenever he went out to visit Hagrid, or the times his roommates were challenging who could put on the most layers. These memories let him be at ease. They always transported him from the harsh reality to the happier days.

Once he allowed himself to come back, his eyes scanned for something that would ground him to the real world. He expected to find a bottle to do so, but instead laid eyes on an unfamiliar envelope at his feet. It couldn’t have been his Hogwarts letter, as this one did not bear the mark to close it. However, there was a date written at the top in an all too familiar handwriting. Then, it clicked.

Your handwriting.

Harry scrambled to grab the paper. It was sliding all over the hardwood floor when he kept grabbing at it recklessly. After a struggle that felt like forever, he held the envelope in his shaking hands. Yes, that was definitely your handwriting within the date that read “31 July 1997.” He flipped it over to find “To My Beloved” written across the front.

It felt as time had stopped, as he carefully pulled the flap from its seal. To him, it was like he was touching a part of you. Granted it was written over a year ago, but the small spark of hope held onto it anyways. Slowly, he pulled out the folded up paper inside. Deep breaths, he thought. He did quite the opposite, though, as his breath hitched when he read it.

Hi there, Harry. I hope you’re doing well.

If you find this, there’s a good chance something happened to me.

Already, tears pricked his eyes. He continued, despite his semi-blurry vision.

Please don’t fret though. Things happen for a reason, remember? If you hadn’t stayed in the hospital wing after your bone disappeared, you wouldn’t have met me and my major clumsiness. I’d like to think that’s another reason Lockhart’s git self had ended up as teacher; for our chance to meet.

It’s ok to cry, but please don’t think that it’s your fault. I am so in love with you, Harry James Potter. I dedicated my life to you. I promised you I’d follow you until the end, and I followed through.

Since I filled my promise, please promise that you’ll live; that you’ll find that happiness in your life again. You’re the best damn seeker I know, so don’t go telling me that you can’t. I mean, I’m sure you killed Voldemort and brought light into the dark world. You deserve to be in that light. Don’t dwell on the past, my love. Focus on the future. All I want is for you to be happy.

I know we never got married, but I knew you were mine from the beginning. The box with this letter; I thought I’d give it now before it was too late. In marriage, you want the best for your partner. That’s exactly what I want. When you wear this, please remember to do whatever you can to be happy. If not for you, then for me.

I love you, Harry Potter. I am so proud of you.

Yours, Y/N

The letter would be covered in wet spots if his glasses hadn’t taken the fall. He let out a choked sob as he clutched the letter to his chest. His eyes scanned the area for the aforementioned box, and found it between a few bottles. One hand darted out and snatched it up, while the other kept a tight grip on the now wrinkling letter. Slowly, he flicked open the lid with his thumb.

A wedding band glistened against the little light peeking through the blinds. Upon seeing it, he hesitantly let the letter fall onto his lap and went to take the jewelry instead. His hands shook as he grabbed it and slipped it into his finger. A perfect fit, of course.

Maybe, just maybe, the ring was magic. It must be, as there was a strange feeling bubbling in his chest. Happiness? Love? Hope? He sifted through a few emotions before landing on a feeling of content. This letter was the closure he had been subconsciously grasping for. Now that he had it, he felt reconciliation with his mind.

Harry pushed himself up to stand, and with shaky legs, he made his way to his home phone. He made sure one hand held the paper that brought him much peace, while the other dialed the number. It rang a few times before a familiar voice answered. A final deep breath before he responded.

“Hermione? I think.. I think I’m ready to change.”

!taglist! @/empty :(

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter oneshot #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfic #fanfic #harry potter fic #fic #hermione granger #ron weasley #fred weasley #george weasley #draco malfoy #neville longbottom #ginny weasley #luna lovegood #pansy parkinson #taylor fics

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concussed-to-pieces · 4 years ago

Text

Late July

Fandom: Kingsman: The Golden Circle

Pairing: Agent Whiskey [Jack Daniels]/Reader

Rating: Holy shit explicit.

Summary: Upon hearing about you from Tequila, Jack Daniels seeks you out with a full set of emotional baggage to work through. You happily oblige, helping him craft a scene that just might grant him some peace of mind. Enjoy!

Tag List: @huliabitch @wrestlingfae @cookiethewriter @culturalrebel @jackierey09 @crookedmoonsaultpunk @duker42 @agirllovespasta @nelba @pedrosbigdorkenergy @lestrange2703 @youmeanmybrain @luvley-shadow @theocatkov @miscellaneousjunkk @reluctantlyresponsibleadult @buttons-beads-lace @gooddaykate @lackofhonor

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains consensual non-consent (surrender play), light domination, roleplay, unprotected sex, frank discussion of safe words, usage of safe words, dirty talk and light bondage. Remember that fanfictions are not research and that you should never engage in any activity if you do not trust your partner. Stay safe!]

There was just something about you that put people at ease, and Ginger Ale noticed during the interview process. "You have a gift!" She had praised you, her smile unexpected and bright. "I can see why Tequila recommended you for this position."

Granted, being the 'head of first impressions' at a distillery that was actually a front for a secret intelligence agency had its ups and downs, but you enjoyed the work and (if you were honest) the exciting interactions with the Statesman agents.

Tequila, of course, would practically drape himself across your desk as he regaled you with (hopefully) exaggerated tales of his heroics. The two of you were sexually involved but preferred to keep each other at arm's length out of the bedroom, neither party particularly keen on surrendering your freedom and committing to anything serious at this point of your lives. You admired his dedication to Statesman, and he in turn respected your desire to have a successful career. He also was blatantly mooning over a certain analyst.

Ginger Ale was quieter and sharper than Tequila, her dry humor a joy to witness. She was the one who had done your interview, and she had given you the full behind the scenes tour once your background check went through. She was beautiful, charismatic and smart as a whip. You hoped to one day be as self-assured as she was.

Champ tended to keep to himself for the most part, though you had encountered him several times in the past when he dozed off in a certain chair at the end of a sunlit hallway. The elderly man was like an old tomcat, you decided, able to prowl but more than willing to take it easy.

Whiskey was often away managing the affairs of their New York headquarters and as such, was the one that you interacted with the least. He would come breezing in at all hours, a slow smile and a wink directed your way before he would saunter past. The rare occasions that he engaged you in conversation were nerve-wracking, as you were a little starstruck due to the glowing accounts both Champ and Tequila had given of his prowess in the past.

Ginger Ale was a bit more down to earth, thankfully. "He's just a man who's lost a lot, and his reasons for wanting to change things for the better may not be entirely altruistic." She had informed you concisely when you queried about the origin of one Jack Daniels. You had picked up on the veiled sadness in his dark eyes, the age that seemed to weigh him down that wasn't entirely related to years.

So when the aforementioned Statesman agent had drunkenly expressed a certain desire to you at a company party, you couldn't hide a little spike of curiosity. Mainly because the two of you interacted so rarely. Hell, you wouldn't even call yourselves friends. Tequila must have told him about your side activities.

"Ever since I lost her, I can't fuckin' bring myself to raw anyone else." The confession had come out of left field, but you had done your best to play it off like it was normal. Lord knew you had done enough paperwork in your career at Statesman to understand that agents would just kind of…say things thoughtlessly if they believed they were in a safe environment. A hazard of the job.

"What do you mean, Mr. Daniels?"

"Call me Jack. Jesus, I ain't that old." He had hiccupped sharply, grimacing. "I just mean I...it's like a mental block. I wanna', I'm excited about it, and everything's fine until I try to come and boom. Python shrivels up like a damn salted slug and I'm left holdin' the bag tryin' to explain myself." He stared into his glass, looking pensive. "Real mood killer."

"Any idea why this might be?" You had prompted, leaning against the bar and idly scanning the throngs of people around you. It wasn't every day that so many of the company's rank and file rubbed elbows with the higher-ups, but you had to assume these economic mixers were what had kept the company (and intelligence agency) on such an even keel. It was a grounding experience, a way to remind the suits of their humble beginnings.

He scoffed out a breath. "Oh I know exactly why. When I lost her, I...we had only learned a little while before that she was havin' a baby. We'd been havin' a rocky time and we were actually thinkin' of breakin' up, but that news…" Jack had tilted his head to glance your way, his brown eyes distant. "If I hadn't gotten her pregnant, she wouldn't have been out shoppin' that day, y'know?" A sad smile had quirked his mouth beneath his mustache. "My fault."

At the time, you had made a noise of sympathy and gone to lay a hand on his arm before you could think better of it. He, instead of shrugging off your touch, actually ended up twining his fingers through your own and giving your hand a light squeeze.

Agent Whiskey's past was a shadowy affair in the Statesman organization. Though to be fair, no one really asked anything about anyone. Ginger Ale reasoned that the less people knew, the safer they and Statesman were in the event of a security breach.

Anything you learned from any of the agents, you tended to keep close to your heart. It was your nature to gather useful information and foster trust for a rainy day. That personality facet had served you well as you had climbed the ranks from intern to head of first impressions, and knowing that you were someone that could be counted on to hold your cards close put many people at ease.

Including one Agent Whiskey.

"Tequila said you were good at helpin'. I'd be much obliged if you'd consider takin' a crack at my sexual baggage."

...

"Alright so for your words, you've decided on 'sixth' as your 'yes I'm into this', followed by second for 'slow down but don't break character', first for 'slow down and do break character' and finally neutral for 'full stop'." You tapped the customary notepad on your lap, glancing over at the man across the table. The two of you were currently sitting in the kitchen of the vacation cabin that your parents had willed to you, the modest dwelling often your staging ground for affairs like this. The warm wooden decor tended to make your partners feel more at ease and less vulnerable. Perceived safety was, after all, incredibly important when crafting scenarios.

Jack nodded. "Gears are easy for me to remember. Simple."

"Got it. And no kissing on the mouth. Can I kiss you in other places, or would you prefer I didn't at all?"

"Kissin's fine." Jack allowed. "Whatever you wanna' do is fine, just not on my mouth." You jotted that down. "Hey, I uh...I just wanted you to know that I really appreciate you agreein' to help. I dunno' if this will work, but…" Whiskey rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Thanks. When Tequila mentioned your...extracurriculars, I figured he was jus' bein' outta' pocket again."

You grinned at that, giggling a little. "Does he get weird a lot?"

"I mean, he's uh...well, he's got his moments." Jack replied with a smile of his own.

"So," you hummed once you had checked your notes again, "after looking over all the information we've compiled, and the ideas you gave me an outline of, I'm thinking that you may want more of a 'surrender-play' kind of experience."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Dare I ask how that's different from what I already suggested?"

"Look, you and I both know that I couldn't keep you from moving if you wanted to. Now, if we had a real working dynamic going on and I believed that you would listen and trust me implicitly so that you don't end up hurting yourself or me, then we might have something. But as we are right now, that's not gonna' happen." Whiskey inclined his head with a rueful chuckle, acknowledging the truth of your words. "So I propose that it's more of a scenario where all the agency is removed."

The agent leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. "Explain."

"You need a scenario where you aren't in control and there's not even a chance of you being in control, taking any responsibility or guilt from the equation." You elaborated. "Basically, you would surrender your control so that you can indulge guilt-free. A lot of people do this coupled with a roleplay aspect in order to test new things that may be out of character for them."

"You coulda' jus' said you wanted to tie me up, sugar." Jack drawled. "I'll show you some good knots."

"You don't have any issues with being secured to...I guess a chair, probably? We'll keep you upright. If we sprawl you out on a bed that might be a little too vulnerable." You reasoned, waiting for his nod before you wrote it down. "I know it sounds contradictory, but I want you to be comfortable in what we do. Should I leave your clothes on?"

"If you can stand to, I'd appreciate it." The man answered with a cheeky wink. "Bein' naked and restrained is a little too close to the job description." He sighed after a moment, tipping the chair backwards as he laced his fingers behind his head. "Now I warn you, if I'm supposed to be an unwillin' party, I may display a little less Southern hospitality and a little more Southern history with my language, if you catch my drift."

You pursed your lips, squinting at him. "...is that your way of saying you might use a naughty word or two?"

You received a lazy finger-gun in reply, "bingo, cherry pie. You got any names you ain't a fan of bein' called?"

"Oh! I mean, I've heard just about everything in the book." You straightened up as a thought occurred to you, and then pointed back at him sternly. "No slurs."

"Ma'am," Jack sounded aghast, "I am not that breed of Southern gentleman. My lingo can verge on the spicy, but I sure as hell wouldn't stoop to that level."

You narrowed your eyes to drive your point home. "I really hope not." The agent inclined his head once more, putting a hand over his heart in a display of sincerity.

The front legs of the chair met the floor with a soft clatter, once again putting him on stable footing. "Now, I been wrackin' my brain tryin' to drum up a good premise like you asked, but I ain't exactly big in the screenwritin' department. I figure it could be kinda' like I'd been kidnapped? Drawin' a blank on why my kidnapper would be rawdoggin' me, maybe you can come up with somethin'?" He queried hopefully.

You furrowed your brow in thought, going silent as you carefully considered the hodgepodge of contributing factors. "Oh, I think I can manage."

...

This deck had been rigged from the start. In theory, you knew that he knew that. Still, he was certainly acting like it stung his pride a bit that he'd fallen into your 'trap' so cleanly.

Everything was going according to plan.

Whiskey struggled against the binds that secured him to the kitchen chair. His whip was safely confiscated. Lasso out of reach. Hat was still on his head. He had specifications, after all.

You left him to wriggle for almost half an hour while you got yourself ready. The man was a secret agent, after all. If he hadn't been restrained for much longer than that at any given point you would be very surprised.

You finally opened the bathroom door, sauntering out into the cabin's small kitchenette. "Miss me, love?" You crooned, committing to your role as villainous vamp stereotype number six. You had worn a plain set of underwear and an oversized white t-shirt, soft and see-through from the amount of times it had been washed. You got the feeling that if you went more elaborate, you might scare Whiskey off or make him too uncomfortable to really get into it. This scene was all about trust, and he hardly knew you. But he had sought you out for this. All you had to do was follow through.

"Was beginnin' to worry that you forgot about me, ma'am." The agent drawled back, his smile tightly sardonic and his low voice curling hot in your belly. "You fixin' to untie me yet?"

You clicked your tongue, the noise disappointed. "Whiskey, sweetheart, where's the fun in that? If I untie you, you'll just kill me."

"Can't blame a man for tryin'." Jack was absolutely in his element right now. He looked furious.

You ambled around behind him, slinging your arms around his neck and resting your weight on him briefly. "Remember," you murmured in his ear. "If you need me to slow down, or need to stop entirely, you say…?"

"Second, first and neutral." The agent replied readily. You patted his cheek.

"Good boy." You praised.

"Ain't my first rodeo." Whiskey's tongue darted out nervously to wet his lips and you wanted to reassure him, but you knew you had a job to do.

"Now, can I get you a light refreshment? Something to drink? Maybe some chips?" You offered, moving to the small refrigerator that you had stocked a little earlier in the day. Planning was imperative for engagements like this. "I have water, sweet tea, Coke…"

"Dammit woman, stop beatin' around the bush! Why the hell do you have me hogtied to this damn chair?!" Jack erupted.

"So rude." You chided him, removing a water for yourself and then leaning casually against the counter. "You really want to know, Mr. Whiskey?"

"Obviously." He scowled.

"Well be a patient boy and maybe I'll tell you." You hummed, not making eye contact as you unscrewed the cap on the water bottle. "It was more than enough trouble for me to get you here in the first place, big shot. Don't rush me."

"Listen, I'll be the first to tell you that I probably ain't who you're lookin' for." He said bluntly. "I'm just a simple liquor tycoon, nothin' more."

"Mr. Whiskey, if you continue to insult my intelligence maybe I will decide I've got the wrong man. And then I'll just get rid of you." You swirled the water in the bottle, fixing him with a thoughtful look.

"You're talkin' a mighty big game, woman." Jack grumbled.

You sloshed some of the water on your thin white shirt as if by accident, and began daubing at the gauzy fabric aimlessly. "Whiskey-"

"It's Jack." He spat.

"Oh, we're on a first name basis? How exciting!" You teased him, laughing when he muttered angrily under his breath. He was clearly enjoying the role of 'belligerent definitely-not-a-spy'. "Alright then, Jack. I won't beat around the bush, as you so tactfully put it."

"Hallelujah, some goddamn cooperation." He replied in a sulky tone.

"So, Jack, I need you to come inside me. Strictly so I can bypass Statesman's biomechanical security systems. It's nothing personal, I just assumed you would be the easiest target, you know?" You remarked with a shrug. "The flirty cowboy with the filthy mouth." He stared at you and you raised an eyebrow, half-convinced that his reaction was legitimate. "What? You do have a reputation."

"I hate to break it to ya', but you got the wrong beverage. You're lookin' for Tequila, ma'am." Jack retorted, his voice a little raspy. "You want...what?"

"I need you to come inside me so I can use the your genetic signature to bypass the security." Granted, you were pretty certain that Statesman used exclusively fingerprints, retina scans and time locks, but Whiskey had told you to weave a good story for the setup, not necessarily an accurate one.

Jack swallowed hard. "You've got bats in your fuckin' belfry, woman. You expect me to-"

"Oh no, that's the beauty of this arrangement." You interrupted him, still smiling. "I don't expect you to do anything aside from sit there and stay still while I ride you."

"Jesus fuck woman, you--shit, isn't there some other way to do this? I ain't keen on the prospect, but if there's literally any other way…"

"Sorry. This is the only solution that my superiors could get behind." You sighed, feigning regret. "And we might be here a while, from what I've heard." Jack's eyes darted to yours and he flushed, working his jaw. "Don't look so glum! I'm one of the best in my field. I'm sure I'll be able to compensate for your...lack of investment."

"You touch me and I swear to God-"

"Ah ah, naughty boys get gagged." You threatened gently, walking your fingers up the side of his face to stroke them back down his jawline. Jack glared at you, his dark gaze fairly luminous with fury and maybe just a touch of poorly-veiled interest. "Be a good boy and I'll let you talk as much as you want. Maybe I'll even let you play with my tits, hmm?" You asked, cupping your breasts through your still-damp shirt. "Would you like that, love?"

"I…" Jack trailed off, then snapped his eyes back up from your chest. "No!"

You tapped his nose, winking. "Oh I think you would. Don't be so stubborn, Jack." You cocked your head to the side. "No one from Statesman even knows you're gone. No one is coming to rescue you." You informed him, all the playfulness evaporated from your voice. "You're mine now, Jack. My own personal key-card."

"You won't get away with this." Jack snarled.

"I think I already have." You knelt between his legs, running your hands over the jeans that covered his thighs. He squirmed, trying to dislodge you, but you just moved with him. You dug your nails into his thighs. "You keep wiggling and I'm going to have to tighten the ropes, Jack. Is that what you want?"

"Oh you filthy fuckin' woman, you absolute bitch, let me go!"

"Hmm," you tapped your chin as he kept jerking and straining against the knots. "No."

Jack froze when your fingers unbuttoned the button at the top of his fly. "Now wait, wait just a damn minute, y-you can't--" he tried to plead.

"Oh I can. And I will." You looked up at him. "As long as we're in the right gear?"

"Sixth, sixth." He affirmed, flashing you a quick smile. You nodded and seamlessly resumed your play.

The zipper of his fly opened devastatingly slow, the agent exhaling raggedly when you pulled up his shirt and palmed his groin gently through the fabric of his boxer briefs. His cock was already half-hard, and you pointed that out with a mean little smirk on your face. "Oh no, looks like someone's interested." You crooned, rubbing your index finger over the head of his still-clothed dick.

"Fuck off, you...y-you-" he swore, rolling his shoulders as if he was testing his bonds. "You little bitch."

"Temper temper." You chided, ducking your head down to mouth over the fabric of his boxers. Jack gasped out another swear over your head, his hips twitching up to meet you before he slammed them back down. "Methinks someone doth protest too much." You snorted, splaying your fingers on the newly-revealed skin of his stomach. "We could make this so much simpler if you would just give in, Jack." You didn't miss the way his skin jumped at your touch, and you smiled against his boxers.

"You'll--you'll have to do better than that." Whiskey breathed. "You think just any ol' woman can get me up?"

You stood, leaning in close and pressing your mouth to his ear. His whole body flinched when you wrapped your fingers around his cock and gave him a nice, slow stroke. "Oh, poor thing. You must believe you're really special, hmm? God's gift to mankind every time you take someone to bed." You mocked, your teeth and tongue laving over his earlobe. "We're all so lucky to have you, Jack."

"Hhn-" Jack's shoulders went stiff, the man obviously biting his tongue.

"You don't have a choice, sweetheart. I'm going to get you hard. Then, I'm going to use your cock. And all you have to do, my lovely, handsome cowboy, is come inside me." You informed him, drawing a finger beneath his chin. "More than once, preferably."

"I'm not usually a man to voice my own shortcomin's, but I must warn you that this will be a futile-" Whiskey's words hitched in his throat when you stroked him again. "Fuck, no, don't touch me like that, you--"

"Stop playing hard to get, Jack." You murmured, slinking your free hand up the back of his neck to massage his scalp right beneath the band of his hat. "Give up."

"Never." He hissed even as his head lolled forward, granting you more access to rub his neck.

"Pity." You settled back down between his legs and wrapped your lips around his cock.

"No, no, dammit-" Whiskey growled, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Don't you fuckin'...no, no, don't use your tongue the-ah f-uck--" His protest died in a pitiful groan when his cock met the back of your throat. "Oh, you--fuckin'--you've got to be shittin' me woman, the whole-?" He grunted out haphazardly as you relaxed your throat and took him all the way down to the base. "You think y-you can take advantage of me jus' cuz' it's been a while since I got laid? Fuck you."

You hummed around his cock, wanting to giggle when he twitched and swore loudly. Your fingers dove past the hem of your underwear, and you moaned against him as you ran your index in slow, steady circles around your clit.

"I ain't fuckin' you, and I sure as shit am not gonna' come in your pussy." Jack snarled.

"Oh yes you are." You sang, rising to your feet and slipping your panties off. The white t-shirt came next, baring your breasts to the air-conditioned environment.

Jack seemed to forget that he was supposed to be vehemently against this yet again as he just...watched while you teased your nipples. You tugged at the taut peaks, rolling them between your fingers and making a show out of the whole bit.

"I can't wait to have you inside me, filling me up, just pumping me full of your come." You said with a smile, sauntering over until you would be in reach if his hands were free. Jack's tongue made a nervous reappearance and you tugged his chin upwards so you could see his eyes. "Are we still in gear? Or do we need to shift?" You asked. He seemed slightly dazed.

"Oh! Uh, sorry, s-sixth." He stammered. "Sixth, holy shit."

"Mm. Don't disappoint me and maybe I'll let you live." You remarked smoothly, swinging one leg over his lap and straddling him. Jack's shoulders were rigid again and you kneaded at them surreptitiously, trying your best to keep him in the scene and out of his own head.

You were well on your way to soaking wet with arousal. There was nothing better than when you had a partner that trusted you, regardless of whether you had truly earned that trust. Just the fact that they had blind faith in you to execute the endeavor that they needed...it was heady and sweet and you loved every second.

You rutted your pussy against the underside of Jack's cock, the man snapping his teeth at the sensation. "Too good?" You taunted, laughing when he swore again.

"I can't believe that you think I'm fuckin' enjoyin' th--look, any dick perks up at heavy pet-"

Cutting Whiskey off mid-sentence was quickly becoming a favorite pastime, you realized as you angled your hips and let the head of his cock push past your pussy lips. "In, just a little, give you a taste, sweetheart…" you sighed, rocking your hips forward and back but not allowing him to sink any deeper into you. "There, that's not so bad, is it?" You cajoled as he shuddered beneath you. "Just keep being good, my sweet cowboy, and this will all be over so much sooner."

"No, no-" He struggled to move, to do anything, but you had made certain to tie him exactly as he had specified. "Dammit, when I get free of here, I'll--"

"Shh, you think too much." You tapped your index finger to his lips, smoothing it over the bristle of his mustache. "Focus on your job right now, and everything will be fine."

Jack turned his face away, inadvertently presenting the thick column of his neck to you. And you, channeling your inner villain, leaped at the opportunity to lick and bite at the bared skin. He made a strange noise, a combination of a moan and a whine that had you raising an eyebrow.

"Is someone a little sensitive there?"

"No, I am not." He answered through gritted teeth. "I hate that you're touchin' me, that's all!"

"Hmm, it doesn't sound like you hate it." You mused, suckling gently at the spot where his jaw met his throat. You were very careful not to leave marks, as that had been another specification. Whiskey struggled underneath you again, only succeeding in pumping his cock up into you slightly.

"Don't, don't--" His voice actually cracked and you smiled, nuzzling your nose beneath his jawline and letting his dick settle deeper.

"Oh no, it seems like you do want to fuck me after all." You shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back and stroking over the base of his cock with two fingers. "Warming up to the idea of being my little fuck toy, Jack?" You teased, noting the way his knuckles whitened from his grip on the rope and his Adam's apple bobbed with the force of his convulsive swallow at your words. "I could just keep you here like this forever, you know. All tied up, helpless for me…" You squeezed the base of his cock and he gasped, trying to stifle the noise. "Soon, I'd have you trained so that you couldn't come from any other pussy aside from mine. Wouldn't that be fun?"

Without waiting for an answer, you let the last few inches of his dick enter you. You leaned back on his thighs, feeling the muscles coil and strain beneath your touch as you reached down and grazed your clit. You could feel the heat of his gaze on you, those brown eyes fixated on the motions of your fingers even as his cock split you open. You were grateful that he was secured, you weren't sure if you would have been able to take him otherwise. His cock curved thickly against your back wall, the engorged head throbbing back and forth over the area that made your whole body shudder in delight.

Whiskey's jaw was taut, his shoulders set in a rigid line that made you ache to get him to come undone in you.

"You're so quiet." You pouted, raising your hand and brushing your wet index finger over his slack lower lip. "Aren't you having a good time?"

His chest abruptly expanded, like he had forgotten to breathe for a moment or two. "Fuck you." Whiskey seethed, making you chuckle softly. "I ain't nobody's goddamn fuck toy."

"Sweetheart," you chided as you sat up. "That's not a very nice thing to say to the person warming your cock right now." You deliberately clenched down on him and Jack swore under his breath, shaking his head. "I can make you feel so good, Whiskey, if you just give me what I want." You insisted, cupping his face and pulling halfway off of his cock.

"N-N...No." He replied weakly.

You sighed, rolling your eyes and shaking out your shoulders. "Well, I tried." Your hands landed on his shoulders and you gripped down to steady yourself, your hips meeting his own with a wet slap! of skin. Jack's chest heaved, his eyes closed and head tilted back as you began to ride him roughly. "All I wanted was for you to come in me. I don't feel like that's asking for much!" You complained petulantly, rolling your hips against his when he was hilted in you with an agonizingly slow grind of your body.

Jack bit out a low "fuck," those tense shoulders trembling under your touch. You tucked your face into his neck to tease the sensitive area even more, your tongue tracing random patterns that made him squirm and writhe underneath you. "I don't--can't, can't, don't make me--" he tried to protest, his words fractured and pitiful.

"Yes you can, and you're going to." You snapped, taking a handful of hair at the nape of his neck so you could urge his head back further, leaving his throat at your mercy. "You're coming in me, Jack! Give up!"

...

"First!" He choked out, and you immediately slowed to a crawl. Your touch on him gentled significantly, no longer demanding but cradling, caressing.

"Easy, easy." You soothed, the unrelenting assault of your perfect hips gone to a slow and careful rhythm, back and forth like a porch swing in the summer heat. Your eyes searched his own, concern shining through.

Jack was speechless, his blind panic melting away at the sound of your regular voice. What the hell just happened? He licked his lips, only now realizing how dry they had gotten. "Sorry, I uh-"

"No apologies." You murmured. "You have nothing to be sorry for. Would you like to stop now?"

Whiskey took a long moment, running a mental check on his body. Nothing was sore, nothing seemed out of line. Everything was raring to go.

Everything aside from his brain, that is. The damn thing wouldn't stop conjuring up scenes of you pregnant and everything going to absolute fucking shit. It didn't matter that he had zero attachment to you, it didn't matter that you were on birth control. This was how it always was.

Every damn time things got serious with a new interest, "oh, let's start a family," Whiskey just wanted to curl up into a ball. Without fail, like clockwork, he would shut down.

And then the accusations would start, the distrust, "How come you can do it with protection but not without?" and it was disheartening, crushing to go through again and again. Explaining didn't seem to do a lick of good, it was always just that he was stringing people along, that he was a damn selfish prick, that he didn't care about what his partner wanted.

That couldn't be further from the truth, of course, but maybe that was his own fault for not dropping the bomb before getting attached to someone. He just couldn't ever seem to justify asking a person on their second or third date, "hey so what's your thoughts on having kids?" It felt manipulative, cheap, and if he was being honest, he knew for a fact that sometimes just the idea of having children was enough to scare a potential interest off.

You were the first person to try and help Jack really wrap his head around this whole issue. And yeah, that was the whole point in sussing you out, but…

Tequila didn't tell him that you actually gave a shit, or at least you were damn good at acting like you did. Whiskey bit his lip. "I'm okay." He said finally, trying for a smile.

"Anything chafing? Do you need some water?"

"I…" Jack trailed off. "Huh, I admit I am a bit parched. But that means you'd have to get up." He realized unhappily.

"Were you enjoying yourself?" You asked, sounding curious.

Whiskey got the hysterical idea in his head of you pulling out some sort of satisfaction survey at the end of your engagement, the notion making him smirk slightly. "God, yeah. I...yeah." He flushed a little bit. "Dunno' if I ever got this far after…after all my mental hangups and stuff. The fact that I don't have a say in the matter seems to be helpin', though."

"Okay, don't go anywhere. I'll get you some water." You patted his thigh, cautiously settling your feet on the floor and then going to stand with a quivery little gasp that absolutely stroked his ego.

Jack couldn't help his own groan at the loss of your heat, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. "Damn it woman, has anyone ever told you that your pussy is fuckin' perfect?" He muttered, his usual honeyed words suddenly clumsy in his mouth. "I mean, hell."

You laughed, bending over to dig in the small fridge for another water. Whiskey felt his entire body throb at the sight of you presenting yourself to him like that, and he sucked in a breath at your obvious teasing. Even in the soft light of the kitchen, he could see the glisten of the wetness between your legs. Hell yes, he found himself thinking stupidly as you turned back around.

"I'm just glad that you're doing alright. That's the most important part to me, after all." You assured him, unscrewing the cap on the water and tipping it to his lips.

Jack gulped greedily, feeling a few droplets escape his mouth and run down his neck to blot his collar. "I am. One hundred percent." He said firmly after he had slaked his thirst. "Let's keep goin'."

"If you're sure, absolutely." You acquiesced, smiling again. Placing the water bottle on the kitchen table, you then swung your leg over his thighs like you were vaulting back into the saddle. Jack held his breath, waiting for you to welcome his cock back into your body. And God he was so hard, he couldn't remember ever being this hard, what the hell--

But strangely, you didn't immediately resume from where you had left off. Instead, you put your arms around his neck and actually rested your forehead against his own, bumping his hat upwards.

Jack swallowed roughly, confused.

"Let me take this from you." You whispered. Whiskey felt pinned by your stare, he felt as if you could see every terrible thing he had ever done, every transgression laid bare under the weight of your gaze. "Let go of it. I have you. I won't let anything happen to you."

The words washed over him, soft and sweet. Your fingers slipped up into the hair at the nape of his neck to toy with the mussed ends that lurked there. The whole exchange was oddly intimate and Jack found himself at a loss yet again, simply grating out, "sixth," when he couldn't come up with anything else to say.

You reached down and stroked his cock, rubbing the head of it against your clit. And Jesus he could feel you, the difference in heat, the slick--

"Are you gonna' take it from me, sweet girl?" He hissed through his teeth like it wounded him to ask, trying desperately to cling to the illusion that he wasn't willing. "Take everythin' I've got?"

The blur between reality and this playdate was getting messier by the second. He wanted to fuck you, wanted to bury himself in you, spend every last drop inside the hot embrace of your quivering cunt. He wanted that. Jesus Christ, this wasn't part of the bargain.

This was a pantomime, specially designed pornography that existed only to coax a very specific reaction from his confused body. So why did he wish he had met you years ago? Why was he suddenly hoping and praying that the sounds you were making were legitimate instead of exclusively for his benefit, hoping that you were also enjoying this?

You angled your hips and sank back down on his lap, your hands going to your breasts where you proceeded to fondle and tease them until your nipples looked like they ached.

Whiskey fucking ached himself to wrap his lips around one pert little peak, swirl his tongue across the tip and make you come undone, rut his dick up into you until you cried out his name and soaked him--

Whoa cowboy, he chastised himself, a little startled by how sharp the longing was. You just kept fucking yourself on his cock, that hot, wet little pussy molded perfectly to every ridge of his member and he had never been this hard, this ready in his life. Despite the air conditioning in the cabin, your skin shone with sweat from all the work you were putting in and Whiskey couldn't recall a time where he had been more appreciative of someone else accomplishing a task within his field of vision.

Your hand slipped down, down, and Jack found himself following the trajectory until it delved between your legs and you started playing with yourself. "Jack," you crooned his name and it was like a prayer, reverent and soft, tender enough to coil itself around his lungs and choke him to death without a whisper of protest. You parted your legs even wider in his lap, exposing yourself to him so he could watch his cock slide in and out of you, so he could see himself fucking you open.

"Are you gonna' come for me, sweet girl?" He gasped, craning his neck and managing to tilt his head so he could mutter into your ear, "you just gonna' wrench one out for me, beautiful?"

"Mm, no, I'm not coming until after you come." You whimpered, still moving your hand. "But I'm so close, Jack. I want to come."

Your plaintive whine had him ablaze. God, he had never wanted to please someone so damn badly in his life. "I know you do, sweet girl." He murmured huskily, exhaling hot over the shell of your ear and loving the way you quivered in his lap. "You're so good, lettin' me blow my load before you get off--gonna' pump me dry when you come, aren't you? Just keep me inside you until that little pussy is all fucked out," he growled, barely aware of the words that tumbled from his mouth.

All he knew is that you were all a-tremble at his voice, your body as hot as late July against his chest, your eyes heavy with adoration that he did not deserve and God, he couldn't get used to that look even if it was fake. What if you stayed? he wondered absently. What if you stayed?

Oh fuck, he was about to come. Panic jabbed like the blade of a knife between his shoulder blades and Whiskey went silent, his teeth bearing down on his lower lip and his eyes slamming shut as he focused harder than he ever had in his life.

The smell of you, the sounds, the heat, the little spasms of your cunt around his cock…

Yes. Yes, God yes, he could do this--

"Come in me, sweetheart." Begging him, pleading, demanding, "Jack-!" You cried his name.

Whiskey groaned hoarsely, so low it was almost painful, and let go. He bucked his hips up against you as best as he could, minute little thrusts while he came harder than he had in years. "Oh," he snarled, gritting his teeth, "fuckin' Christ woman, I think you've ruined me, Jesus fuck."

Your hands threaded through the hair at the nape of his neck again and you held him, not tightly, but just enough to keep him steady, anchored. "There," you said abruptly, the snide, put-upon tone of your role contrasting wildly with the gentleness of your touch, "was that so difficult?"

Jack burst out laughing, not overly concerned with how strange of a reaction that was. Hell, was he relieved? "Jesus fuckin' Christ, you're great." He remarked breathlessly. "I don't even know what just happened."

"Oh?" You replied, raising an eyebrow. "The mess between my legs seems to allude to you possibly having an orgasm. Jury's still out though."

He grimaced apologetically, glancing down. "Sorry darlin'. It's been a while, y'know?" You rose up off of him again and he grunted as his cock slipped free from your body. Whiskey felt half-drunk, relief and release combining into a potent cocktail that left him boneless in the chair.

You quickly put your shirt back on and then crouched at his feet, beginning the arduous process of untying him. Jack just sat there, watching you drowsily. He couldn't do much else, really. "Any numbness or chafing?" You asked quietly, stirring him momentarily from his daze.

"Nah, nothin' yet." He replied, straightening his freed left leg and rotating his ankle in his boot. "A little stiff, but I've survived worse than that."

"And how do you feel?" You questioned, "physically and emotionally."

Jack gnawed at his lower lip, trying to force his sluggish brain past the haze of serotonin in order to give you a satisfactory answer. "...good." He said finally, scrambling to elaborate, "or uh, better, I guess. More okay than I've been in a fuckin' while." It wasn't a lie, he was surprised to discover. He hadn't actually put much stock into this endeavor, figuring it would be a fun little diversion that would end just like every other time. Of course, it didn't hurt that you were easy on the eyes, prettier than a peach if he was being honest with himself.

Your smile was bright and Jack's stomach knotted confusingly. "I'm glad."

His right leg was released and he shifted his weight in the seat, groaning happily when his hip popped. "Hey, wait." The agent belatedly realized, "you didn't-?"

"We were here for you." You reminded him. "Not me."

"Whoa now, that don't seem fair at all!" Whiskey protested, taken aback by your nonchalance. "You just put in all the work!"

Your laugh tripped down his spine like an aftershock. "Don't get bent out of shape! It's standard policy, Mr. Whiskey. Once the desired result of the scene has been acquired, the scene ends and I start with aftercare."

"B-But--you didn't get to get off though!"

"Me 'getting off' wasn't specified in our planning."

"I needed to specify that shit?! I figured you'd just kinda'..." His right arm was free now and Jack seized the opportunity to make a certain gesture, raising his eyebrows. "I mean, I was at your mercy!" He continued, bewildered. "You totally coulda' just kept goin'-"

"Yes, and that's exactly why when the desired result has been achieved, the scene ends." You interjected firmly. "Because you trusted me enough to let me take control, and I'm not about to break that trust by doing something selfish on a whim."

Jack exhaled hard, scooting his hat a little further back on his head so he could study you. You didn't look disappointed, or annoyed with him. He wondered how many times you had fielded ignorant questions like his own and he cringed at himself. "I'm...shit, I'm sorry. I don't have any right to be all shitty about it." He apologized as you moved out of his field of view to untie the rope securing him to the back of the chair. "I just feel like you worked so hard an' got nothin' out of your end of the bargain."

"It's sweet of you to be concerned about that, but don't take it personally, okay?" You assured him, "I do this because I enjoy it. The whole experience, not just the finale." The ropes around his chest sagged and Jack slid forward a bit in the seat, relaxing.

"Can I get that water again? Christ, I need a cigarette and a tumbler of the strong stuff after all that." He joked, clumsily tucking his cock back into his boxers. You pressed the bottle to his hands and he nearly dropped it, chuckling self-consciously. "Whups, sorry. I had my fists all bunched up so my fingers are stiff." Jack proceeded to down the rest of the bottle, wiping his mouth and mustache with the back of his hand after the fact. "So...what exactly is it you do for Tequila?" He queried nosily.

You laughed at him and God, God he loved the sound of your laugh. "That, Mr. Whiskey, is on a need-to-know basis. Just like this little soiree between the two of us." You chided, your eyes bright with good humor. "I would never violate a partner's trust in me."

Jack tipped the bottle in your direction, as if making a toast. "I'll drink to that, partner. What's next on the menu?"

"We'll talk out the scene and wind back down. Get cleaned up. I'll probably…" you paused, squinting at the clock over the sink. "You want some pizza? There's a joint not far from here that serves pies and chicken wings until midnight."

Jack groaned appreciatively, "I knew you were my kinda' gal. Lead the way to the debrief, ma'am."

It didn't really matter in the long run, he supposed. You obviously weren't interested in anything serious (if only because he figured that your flings with the stereotypical 'bad boy' Tequila would have become more regular in spite of the younger man's painful crush on Ginger Ale), and he could respect that. Still though, he couldn't help feeling a touch morose over the possibility of never engaging with you again.

He toyed with the idea of asking you for another 'appointment', but dismissed the thought almost as quickly as it arrived. Better to quit while he was ahead.

Or rather, he amended ruefully as he settled down across from you in the diner booth, his hair still damp and curling slightly beneath his hat from the quick wash he had indulged in at your cabin, better to quit now before I make even more of a fool of myself.

Part Two

#jack daniels #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #kingsman: the golden circle #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal character #agent whiskey imagine #consensual noncon #whew where did this come from #enjoy!#working things out

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the-melting-world · 4 years ago

Text

The Empress | Side B: “I Will Be Blessed”

I want to give a special dedication to my amazing friend and partner in crime Ligia Nunes @ligiawrites . This installment of The Empress is a major turning point in Kip’s journey. The opening scene was strongly inspired by the Strength throne art created by Ligia a while back (located at the end of the fic). I don’t think this moment would have ever existed if had it not been for that throne. So thank you, Ligia for continuing to inspire so much of my storytelling.

***

~ In which a humble gardener stops resisting…

The Trio Appearances: Kipling | Khleo | Ozy

Arcana LI appearances: Asra | Nadia | Muriel

Track Origins: “I Will Be Blessed” by Ben Howard

Not sure if this is the right track? The full album can be found here: The Empress

cw: none

~ 2.2k words

Kipling opens a Door that takes her and Asra to Strength’s Gate.

Kipling and Asra crowded around a golden throne in the middle of a flowering vale. The magicians’ fingers were already grazing the surface of the elaborate throne, trying to capture the shape of every groove, the curl of each engraved leaf glinting under the midday sun.

“Was this here the last time you came through this realm?” Asra asked as he crouched down in order to study the finer stalks of wheat fanning out from the base.

“No,” Kip replied airily, her focus still mostly absorbed by the face of a lion staring out at her from the backrest. Its features were half concealed by depictions of broad leaves and delicate flora.

If it hadn’t been for the boisterous game of catch and chase between the three familiars in the background, Kipling and Asra might have never been able to snap out of whatever spell the throne had over them.

Taro, Faust and Abaco kicked up an assortment of purple and orange wildflowers during their romp. The ring of flowers remained suspended in the air for much longer than normal before they languidly drifted back down to the earth.

Kipling wondered how much longer she and Asra would have to wait for Khleo or Strength to arrive. Only thing was certain – she didn’t want to walk away from this throne. And, she noticed, neither did Asra.

“There is a body that belongs in that seat, but it is not my own.”

Kipling and Asra straightened up and spun abruptly to come face to face with the guardian of the realm. The Major Arcana was just as beautiful and terrifying as Kipling remembered. This time Strength had settled on her sphinx form, her face an impossible fusion of female and feline.

The Arcana was well past the seven foot mark, glowing, and draped in fabrics whose color constantly shifted between red wine and raw berries. Whatever words Kip had for the celestial being died on her lips. Asra, who had more experience conversing with the Arcana, took Kipling’s hand and addressed Strength directly.

“Thank you for permitting us into your realm. I’m Asra Alnazar and this is my partner, Kipling Bronne.”

Without moving her mouth, Strength said, “I know who you are, Small Magician. And I know why both of you are here.”

When she didn’t elaborate, Kipling found her voice and asked, “What did you mean earlier when you mentioned the throne?”

Strength fixed the gardener with her predatory gaze. “I meant what I said, Small Empress. It does not belong to me.”

Kipling’s heart began to race. She squeezed Asra’s hand. “Then who does it belong to?”

“Who else?” Strength cocked her head to the side. “The cub you call Khleo.”

Kip stepped forward. “Tell me where she is.”

“Kipling.”

Asra’s hand came down on her shoulder.

“She’s not here,” Strength said flatly. Then she walked past both of them and made herself comfortable on the throne. “I’m keeping this seat warm for her in the meantime. You must understand, Small Empress. I can only protect my cubs from the nest. When they leave, things are out of my control.”

“Is Khleo in danger?” Kip asked, wishing she didn’t sound so desperate.

Strength did not mock her for it. In fact, her expression appeared sympathetic. As sympathetic as a werelion could hope to look.

“Danger is a strong word.” Strength gave a wistful sigh. “The cub is being kept in a cage. Perhaps not one with metal bars and padded locks, but a cage all the same. Under such circumstances, she is more of a danger to herself than anything else.”

Kipling closed her eyes and took back her hand from Asra. He watched in concern as she hugged herself and swayed on her feet.

Not Khleo. Not her Khleo.

“It’s my fault,” Kipling croaked. “I always tried to blame it on Ozy, but that’s because it was easier. That way I didn’t need to face what I had done.”

Asra reached for her again. “No, you can’t do this to yourself, Kip.”

“But she is correct, Small Magician.” Strength interjected. “The Small Empress helped put my lion cub where they currently are.”

Kipling’s knees gave out as she choked on a sob. Asra caught her before she could completely stumble.

“Stop it!”

He hadn’t meant to shout at a Major Arcana, but he couldn’t keep watching Kip beat herself up.

“Strength,” Kipling made eye contact with the Major Arcana as she leaned on Asra for support, “tell me how I can help Khleo. What can I do to set her free?”

“Now you’re asking the right questions.” Some manner of a grin stretched across the werelion’s maw. “Ultimately it is up to Khleo to set herself free, but these things, as you know, cannot be done alone.”

She stood up, her face sobering right before she rested her paws on Kip’s shoulders.

“The beast in Khleo has fought. She has done nothing but fight since she walked through that Door that you opened all those years ago.”

Kip couldn’t stop the tears from snaking down her face. But she wouldn’t dare look away from Strength now.

“Khleo has fought and fought and fought. As exhausted as she is, she doesn’t know how to stop. And she will go on fighting until she can’t anymore. The body I gave her is both a blessing and a curse.” Strength sighed and let her paws drop from Kip’s shoulders. “I’ve done all I can, but the cub is stubborn and will not hear me.”

She drifted away from Asra and Kipling. The wildflowers in her path bowed to her and blazed gold.

“Something tells me that Khleo will listen to you. I took away their magic so that they may live, but that does not mean they have lost their command over the Doors. It may not look the same for them as it does for you, but…. They just need someone to show them the way.”

By this time, Taro and Abaco were back on Kipling’s shoulders and Faust had reunited with Asra.

“Finish your training, Small Empress. Then seek out your Patron.”

Strength waved her arm. A Door appeared.

“Now go.”

Kipling and Asra walked away from the throne towards the portal. On the way, Kip stopped and rested the tips of her fingers on Strength’s wrist. The Arcana looked down on the gardener. Kipling didn’t say anything. She just stroked the light coating of fur and gazed up into the eyes of the sphinx.

Strength let go of another heavy breath, lacing it with a purr.

“Your friend. All she wants is to be free. To rest.”

Kip wished she was tall enough to catch the sun-lit tears before they streaked down Strength’s whiskers.

“She deserves it.”

***

Back at the Palace, Kipling found Ozy meditating in the gardens. She had come alone this time. The familiars had gone inside with Asra when they returned from Strength’s realm.

Instead of disturbing Ozy, Kipling walked over, sat down and joined him. She fell into the trance quicker than usual. As if Ozy’s disciplined presence had served as a catalyst.

Kipling wasn’t sure how long she and Ozy sat there under the weeping willows with their legs crossed, their palms face up, relaxed and resting on the peaks of their knees. Their breaths were independent of each other. Each one entered deep and left with ease. Each thought floated in uninvited and drifted off unnoticed.

Despite the coverage of the silky willows, Kipling felt the sun on her, giving the shapes that danced behind her eyelids a peculiar glow.

By the time Ozy’s voice called Kipling back, there were more warm tears hugging her freckled cheeks.

“You went to go see Khleo on your own. Without me.”

Ozy didn’t sound angry, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t.

“I had to,” Kip said, her voice surprisingly steady despite the emotions that the trip had brought to the surface. The more the trance of the meditation wore off, the harder she cried. She wished she could take a breath in order to tell Ozy that they were tears of relief rather than pain. She would see Khleo again. She was meant to help them. Strength herself said she needed Kipling’s help.

Kipling felt like a weight had been lifted from her heart. When she dried what she could of her tears and looked up at Ozy, she found that she could focus on him completely. Her heart was still being pulled in other directions, but not as strongly as before.

Kipling allowed Ozy to help her onto her feet.

“What did Strength say?” Ozy asked, his tone implying that he knew Khleo wasn’t there. His words briefly brought back images of daisies materializing spontaneously in the shape of a Door.

“She saved Khleo’s life by taking away their magic.”

Ozy confirmed with a gentle nod. “Right. She blessed Khleo’s body with accelerated healing and more strength than the average human, but they won’t ever be able to open another Door. What else did the Arcana say?”

“She said that Khleo needs to rest.”

Ozy made a thoughtful sound, his hazel eyes turning to the sky. “That’s what she told me too.”

Kipling reached up and lightly pulled on his ghost lock. “I’m ready to talk, Ozy,” she said it with a smile. “About everything.”

Ozy brought his attention back to Kipling. She was surprised to see that same hesitation on his face that he wore when he first arrived. As if he was expecting a rejection.

Kip felt her confidence slip as she wrung her hands and fought to maintain eye contact.

“Before we help Khleo, there’s a lot we still have to do first. For one, I need to apologize to you.” She closed her eyes and inhaled a meditative breath before going on. “Ozy, I didn’t want to leave you on the island that day, but I was so disgusted with myself. I had felt like that all year. No matter how much I wanted to, I just couldn’t own up to what I did… to your face.” Her eyes burned, but she opened them anyway and forced herself to look at Ozy and the telling scar over the bridge of his nose.

“Every time I looked at you, I told myself that everything was my fault. I was the reason Khleo was gone.”

Ozy shook his head and set his jaw. Before Kip could blink, she was holding onto him and he to her. It came somewhat as a shock, this being the most affection they had allowed themselves to show each other since before Khleo’s accident.

“Everything happened like it was supposed to, coz,” Ozy reassured her. But his voice was shaking, his hand trembled as he massaged his fingers into her curls and coils. He was remembering the pain, Kip could tell. And it made her remember too. How much she had pushed Ozy away in the beginning. How she punished him for something that was her fault too. She remembered the year between the accident and leaving for Vesuvia when she refused to let him back in. No matter how much Ozy begged and begged.

Everything happened like it was supposed to.

“No one’s supposed to be alone for ten years!” Kipling sobbed. “But I didn’t know, Ozy. I swear I didn’t know.”

Ozy’s voice regained some of its usual lightness. “Oh no, don’t you dare try to take the blame for that. I knew what I was signing up for. Remember that, Kipling. I put myself down there. Not you.”

Kip hugged him harder. “But I was the one who hurt you. I forced you to make that choice. Family isn’t supposed to do that to each other!”

Ozy pulled back just enough to lift Kip’s chin. “You’re right. Family shouldn’t do that. But you know what else?” He smiled softly. “Family forgives.” He reigned her in against his chest, this time bringing his face to the crown of her head. He breathed in those nostalgic notes of shea butter, coconut oil, and sea salt. Ozy closed his eyes and imagined he was kissing the sugar white shores of his youth. He imagined himself kissing every painful unsavory memory goodbye.

“Now can we be a family again?” He asked, his face still buried in Kip’s hair. “Please? I need to put everything behind me... but I cannot until you let go of all this guilt. Trust me, you don’t need it anymore, Kip. You can let it go.”

And then Kipling… she broke. Water and thunderous sobs poured out of her like she was the sky. Ozy didn’t walk away from the downpour. If anything he held Kipling closer. She had so much water in her, it seemed. As if that sea where they were all were born had been with her this whole time. Kipling had brought it with her to Vesuvia, but pushed it deep, deep down and locked it away.

Ozy let himself be the stone well to catch all of Kipling’s rain. Though he had spent all that time surrounded by water and knowledge, in many ways, it had left him feeling very empty. Oz’mandias knew that as long as he had Kipling, he would never need to know that emptiness again.

#there is a lot of crying in this one #just a heads up #arcana albums: the empress #arcana albums #kipling the apprentice #ozy the grey mage #the arcana #asra #asra alnazar #my writing #the arcana fanfic #the arcana fic #asra the arcana #kipling bronne #oz'mandias

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mnictasbcl · 3 years ago

Text

With love, Connor

My story for @connor-sent-by-cyberlife’s #dbhghostsinthemachine day 1, prompt Unknown Sender.

Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor

Characters: Hank Anderson, Connor, DPD characters

Rating: Mature

Tags: Dark!Connor, Stalking, unhealthy obsession, Killing, Swearing, alternate character interpretation

Warnings: Potential Major Character Death

Summary: Packages start arriving at the DPD each day. They start off as solutions to unsolved crimes… and end up as the details of new crimes themselves. It seems the DPD is dealing with someone with no remorse about murder, someone who seems to only target the grizzled Lieutenant with no care to solve these cases.

Lieutenant Hank Anderson.

Read it on ao3! Or, read below

Each day, the DPD received a package.

The first time they opened it with caution. Parcels from unknown senders to a police station were never simply unwrapped like a Christmas gift. No, they were scanned through an X-ray machine to make sure it wasn’t a bomb.

But no explosive intent was found. They opened it slowly, two officers assigned to this case—

It was a stack of papers and photographs. Combing through it, the officers realised it was a solution to a years-old cold case.

Signed: With love, Connor

The second day amassed quite some interest. More senior officers were assigned to this taskforce, and budding new recruits invested their curiosity. Much the same, it was a slim package. They took their time through the steps to make sure it was safe, before handing it off to their best Lieutenant.

“Another package from the mysterious detective, Hank.”

“Fuck,” Hank groaned as he tore it open, finding again a stack of papers, some hand-drawn evidence included this time as well, “they’re gonna put me out of my job.”

With love, Connor

On the third day, it wasn’t a cold case at all. Instead, it was a correction to a case they thought they’d solved weeks ago.

“Looks like you fucked up,” Hank said to the downtrodden officer who’d made the mistake, “but that’s not the issue here…”

He looked over the files for a few more moments.

“How in the hell did they find this case? It’s not in public records.”

With love, Connor

On the fourth day…

“This is the case I was working on yesterday!” Hank slammed the files onto the desk. “I’d almost finished it…”

“Looks like he beat you to your job.” Gavin laughed. “Very impressive.”

“’s not fucking impressive. It’s creepy, is what it is. This person’s breaking a hundred laws and they’re shoving it right in our faces.”

On the fourth day, Hank decided he’d show up to work from now on and solve this mystery detective case for himself.

With love, Connor

On the fifth day, Hank was assigned an android for a partner to solve this investigation. An RK800, state of the art police-detective prototype.

“Don’t need a partner, certainly not this plastic prick—”

Hank was forced to work with his new android partner.

But with no package arriving that day from the unknown sender, they had to work on a different case instead. Hank begrudgingly sent the android the files to work on with him. It seemed, however, to be a disaster of a job. The case lacked enough evidence to be solvable, and so by the end of the day, they had nothing.

“Christ, right on the day we need that creep to send us something and they don’t…” He mumbled as he walked off to the bathroom.

When he came back to his desk, the android was gone, and in his place was the solved case in a neat little package, signed with the words,

With love, Connor :)

By the ninth day, Hank began to realise the unknown sender was only working on his cases. Everyone else in the department was bemoaning the lack of help on their work, particularly with the spree of crimes popping up around the city.

“Look, I’d rather they were helping you, not me—it’s fucking creepy.” He didn’t budge on the sentiment. Something didn’t feel… right.

“Perhaps they’re just trying to help.” His android partner suggested.

“Help me by freaking me out? No way. Now come on, we’ve got a double homicide to investigate.”

On the twelfth day, Hank complained about lack of work with all of his cases getting solved for him.

On the thirteenth, he had two murders and a vandalization to solve.

The murders were fairly cut and dry, but no evidence was left behind.

“There are no traces of thirium,” Connor told him at the second scene, “but I believe I have the same conclusion as earlier: the lack of evidence suggests an android is the suspect.”

“Great, androids are killing people now. Don’t you get any ideas, you hear me?”

Connor smiled. It was slanted, obviously forced. “I wouldn’t kill you, Lieutenant.”

Hank laughed awkwardly. “Thanks. Now, uh, let’s go and check out the vandalism, then we can end this long fuckin’ day.”

The vandal had signed their work on the Detroit bridge in the blood of the second victim,

To Lieutenant Anderson,

With love, Connor

Hank didn’t show up to work the next day.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

But on the next, as he turned up an hour and a half late, he collided with the android at his desk.

“Lieutenant! You’re here. I was worried you weren’t going to come back.”

Was that concern? Hank thought, before scoffing at himself. Yeah, right, androids didn’t feel anything. But if he was going to place a bet on this android’s emotional tone—it was less akin to worry, and more like desperation, if anything was to go from the way static crackled through his words.

“Yeah, I was just taking a day off.”

“Fowler didn’t say you requested one.”

“I took a day off.” He shrugged.

Connor frowned, but nodded, sitting at his desk. “Make sure you don’t do that anymore, Lieutenant Anderson. You’re a good detective, and you have a case to solve.”

Despite the android’s words, Hank slacked off for the rest of the day. No work was done, and not even from their mysterious detective.

The next morning (whatever day of packages sent— Hank had given up counting), it seemed the mystery man was back at work.

But seemingly to account for Hank’s slacking, it wasn’t a package they received today. It was a set of coordinates.

After the double murder and obviously connected vandalization, Hank concluded that these were the coordinates to the scene of a crime.

Yet when they arrived—it was an empty warehouse. Their numerous officers split up into groups, at Hank’s orders.

They had been hesitant to leave him so alone, especially with his connection to the crimes, but he had waved them off.

“I’ll keep the android with me. ‘m sure he’ll protect me—I mean, it’s mentioned at least a hundred times that it’s state of the art, so…”

Thus, Hank was left with Connor to take a more investigative approach to the scene.

“It’s literally an empty warehouse. Fucker probably thought he’d mess with us today, for some reason.”

Connor frowned. “That doesn’t seem like the modus operandi of our suspect, Lieutenant. They’re smart, they wouldn’t want to waste your time.”

“Yeah, why’s that?”

“Because it seems obvious that they’re interested in your detective skills. They take you to crime scenes, send you improvements upon your work—they want you to become a better detective.”

Hank blinked. Huh, that was a new outlook on the mystery man, sure.

It was also one he’d never heard the android mention before.

“You been thinking about this a lot, then?”

“Of course. It’s my mission, I think about nothing else.”

Hank snorted. “That must be fun. Come on, don’t you ever think of doing anything else? Finding interests, uh, hobbies… slacking off for once in a while—”

“Does that better your detective work, Lieutenant?”

“Uh, I guess so, yeah. If I was always a hard-ass on myself about work, then I’d probably get sick of working.”

“Noted. Thank you, Hank.”

The warehouse turned out to be nothing. Maybe the suspect was messing with them, after all.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Some day the next week, Hank was phoned by an unknown number. Also, the android didn’t turn up to work.

‘Lieutenant Anderson?’

He cursed upon hearing the voice. By now he was sure this was the suspect—but they had been smart enough to change up their voice, leaving no way to identify them.

“Speaking.”

‘This is… is… your friend. Connor.’

“Don’t know if that’s what I’d call guys who send me weird shit and kill people, but go on.”

‘We are friends, Lieutenant. We spend time together; we have common interests. That is what’s defined by friendship.’

Oh yeah, this was definitely a fucking android.

“Whatever. Just cut to the chase—what do you want?”

‘Ah, I do admire your dedication to your work. That’s definitely improved. But, fine. I’m just… warning you. You have a week left to solve my case, otherwise…’

“…otherwise?”

‘You become the next case.’

The phone clicked off.

A minute later, the android turned up for work.

“I’m so sorry, Lieutenant, I always try to be punctual but—”

“Just sit your ass down. We need to work, now.”

Connor smiled. “I admire your work ethic.”

Throughout the week, neither Hank nor the android were assigned any new cases, Fowler made sure of it.

Instead, they poured over evidence from every package the suspect had sent them, to images of every crime scene he’d created.

Halfway through the week, it didn’t seem they were getting anywhere.

“Fuck, he could be anyone! But he acted like he knew me… but… if there was someone coming into the DPD, or spying on us through the security system, we’d know!” He slammed his fists against the desk yet again.

“Perhaps you need to look closer.” Connor suggested.

“Yeah, think I’m looking at the evidence close enough, thanks a lot.”

“You don’t understand. Maybe the suspect is closer than you think.”

Hank frowned.

He was doing that a lot, lately. This android completely puzzled him. Sometimes he would say stuff like that, completely out of nowhere. Just like when he’d suggested about the suspect’s interest in his investigative work.

It was probably because he wasn’t human. Random, oddly specific statements. Probably been cooking them up in his metal brain or something, bestowing his help on Hank only at random times, as if he didn’t need help more often than that. Like a teacher dropping hints when you asked for help, trying to guide you to the right answer…

Hank pondered this all one evening, two nights before the deadline. Literally, his dead-line. He assumed the suspect was probably going to kill him if his cryptic threat had been anything to go by.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

The next morning, he began to piece the facts together.

It wasn’t a lot to go on. But once he’d decided that the android’s facts were of any help, he’d put them alongside the evidence and stared, hard. Being a Sunday, he was at home with more opportunity to sit and concentrate, ponder over the information.

· Interested in my detective skills.

· They’re closer than you think.

Well, if he took these literally—who did he know that was interested in his detective skills?

He tried proof by elimination.

Fowler? Nope, he was usually berating Hank for his work ethic.

Gavin? No way.

Chris, Ben, Tina, the rest of the officers at the DPD? It didn’t seem like any of them could be this mysterious detective…

That was when it hit him, sitting on his couch on Sunday night. They had made one big mistake.

He didn’t know a lot of people at all.

And who was new, who had appeared around the same time the packages and the crimes had, who was just as cryptic as the suspect, who—

His doorbell rang, loud and clear.

Hank looked at the time. Fuck, 12.00am. His deadline.

With slow steps he moved towards the door and wasn’t surprised to open it and see the android. A smile on his face, LED a calm blue…

“Connor.”

“Lieutenant Anderson.” He replied. “Good work, but I’m afraid, you’re too late. You’ve missed our deadline.”

And with one swift, inhumanly fast motion, he knocked Hank out.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

When he came back to, with a dull pain thumping in the front of his head, he saw the vast expanse of the empty warehouse.

Struggling did nothing; his wrists and ankles were bound to the chair he was sitting on.

“You know,” a voice to the side of him spoke- Connor, “it is a shame you were late. I was beginning to be impressed with your work.”

Hank found the android eventually, sitting at a desk a few feet away, writing on a piece of paper.

“But your work ethic—”

“I know, I know,” Hank interrupted, “Fowler’s always on my ass about that. And I can’t blame you if you were my partner for so long…”

“It’s such a waste of talent!” Connor’s voice rose, no longer cool and collected as it usually was. He swiped something off his table, landing on the ground with a crash, inky black fluid spilling across the floor. “You were such a good detective, Lieutenant. But you continue to show up to work late, you—”

“Well, I bet you know why.”

“Yes, I do. Your son.” Connor shrugged. “I do understand why they built androids without emotions. It’s a distraction.”

Hank watched as he paced away from the desk, coming to stand in front of him, still and staring.

“But you won’t have to worry about that soon. No, once I’ve finished writing your evidence… you’ll won’t have to worry anymore…”

Hank spotted his stolen gun, poking out of the android’s pocket. Well, if his death was inevitable… then it wouldn’t hurt to try anything to wriggle his way out of it.

“And so you say you androids don’t have any emotions. But what’s all this, then?” He gestured around him. “All of this you planned with me. Stalking me, sending those files, this obsession—”

“There’s nothing wrong with me!” Connor shouted, LED blaring red. He then took a moment, straightened his tie, and continued. “I do not have errors in my software, Hank. I’m simply conducting an investigation.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that? Did Cyberlife assign you to creep some old Lieutenant out, then?”

“No, it was self-assigned.”

“Thought you had to obey all those orders Cyberlife gave you.”

“I’m beyond that.” Connor replied simply, cryptically, before turning around, heading back to the desk. “The mission Cyberlife assigned me was frivolous.”

“That seems a mighty big task for an order-following, emotionless android—”

“It was logic that guided me to a new mission, Lieutenant Anderson. Investigating deviancy, emotions in androids, is a waste of my time because androids don’t have emotions! It’s a logical inconsistency.” He sat down, picking up his pen.

“But I did find the Lieutenant they assigned me to for the case interesting. Therefore, I gave myself a new mission. Investigate emotions in humans.”

Hank scoffed. “You aren’t gonna get much out of that. Emotions don’t make sense.”

“Yes, I see that now. So, I altered my objective—try and stop troublesome human emotions. And, well, as I’ve said, you were once a great detective. And still are. But you are being hindered by your emotions. By setting a tricky but intriguing case, I thought I’d tempt you out of being so damaging to yourself, to your abilities. You were even beginning to work on the case. But you didn’t care! You… didn’t care. You would still turn up late to work, or even not at all—and you were making no progress on the investigation. It didn’t make sense.

“So,” Connor continued, looking up from his papers, “I dropped hints. I helped you with the investigation. I turned up instead of sitting in the shadows, sending you evidence each day. And yet you… it took you so long to figure it out, that I don’t think you even cared.”

“It was a hard case, Connor—”

“You figured it out after the deadline. If you hadn’t wasted time before, you would have been more efficient. But it isn’t any trouble anymore.” He wrote a few more lines before stopping, setting his pen back down. “I know that it isn’t your fault. You can’t help having emotions.”

Connor stood up, lining up the papers into a neat stack before sealing them up into a package.

“So, I’ve concluded my investigation. There’s only one way to stop humans being hindered by their emotions.”

He brought the package over to Hank, placing it gently on his knees. “Don’t have any regrets, I don’t blame you. But it is a shame. I do think, if you’d succeeded, we could have been friends.”

“Connor, please—don’t do this—” Hank begged, beginning to struggle fruitlessly against his restraints.

“I’m afraid I have to, Lieutenant Anderson. But I’ll give you one chance. You were special, after all, and you do have potential.

“Find a way to escape this, and you’re free. Because if you solve this impossible case, if you escape from my restraints, perfectly tied, durable rope—with no tools to help you, then you will have redeemed yourself. But,” he added, “you have to stick to my deadline this time. If you haven’t escaped within three days…”

“I’ll be dead.” Hank finished for him.

“Exactly. But you’re smart. And if you don’t escape, don’t worry. Your case file is right here,” he gestured to the package on Hank’s lap, “documenting all the evidence for your friends at the DPD to help them figure out what happened.”

With that, Connor walked back over to his desk, tucked the chair in neatly, before walking away to the exit at the far end of the room.

“Do try not to die, Lieutenant Anderson,” he called back over his shoulder, “I’d hate to be disappointed again.”

The doors clicked shut, and silence filled the room. Hank stilled, glancing about him for any tool to help, but found none. Only the empty desk too far away to even touch, the flickering light on the ceiling, and the package on his lap, words written on the front—

With love, Connor.

#dbhghostsinthemachine #dbh #detroit become human #connor #hank #dbh connor and hank #fanfic #dbh fanfic

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thotsforvillainrights · 4 years ago

Note

Hey ho, hope you're feeling well~ I am glad you cleaned out the ask box, think about your health too not only us readers, you're important too! ♡ Besides that can you pls write something fluffy for Shigaraki, Compress and Giran? I need my boys~ - Rin (idk if you saw that I changed my username)

~Shigaraki/Sako/Giran Fluff~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up

~Shigaraki~

-A lot more touch starved than he lets on. Like really REALLY touch starved. Tomura will hold you complete hostage and make you hold him all day and sometimes well into the night. Sometimes it’s just an hour of you rubbing his scalp and playing in his hair, other times it’s just having you straddled on his lap while he plays a game. It’s never as sexual as you may think either. He’s just down for your tender love an care more often instead. So you’ll have to put up with that a lot more often behind closed doors. He’s pretty clingy sometimes (not always though, so beware)

-Very grumpy type person in the morning. To plainly cut it...Tomura has some serious insomnia half the time. He’s rather stay up in an online match all night till 4 a.m and then sleep all day till 4 in the evening. You have to help him come out of that, and a part of it is waking him up pretty early in the morning. He can be a bit of an ass afterwards so you’ll simply have to beware and endure. I promise he gets better once he’s fully woken up

-Dedicates at least one day out of the week to you 100%. Sometimes he’s pretty busy with work/the LOV and he can’t always engage in lolligagging and cuddling. However, by dedicating this one day to you (doesn’t matter which one you want), he’s able to focus on you and catch up on any lost time from the rest of the week. Now this doesn’t mean he doesn’t spend any time with you outside of that one day, it just means he spends most/all of his time on that day.

-Has finally decided to open up to you with his emotions. He’s being so honest about his emotions so please do not judge him. He might even get so far down the line that he ends up crying just a bit at his darkest moments as he recalls them to you. Do you know why? It’s because he loves you so dearly that he trusts you with this. If you slip up and mock him, or go spreading his secrets, then he’ll lock back up forever. That means you’ll never get a chance like this again.

~Compress~

-Honestly being with him makes you forget he’s a villain half the time. Sitting up and star gazing with him, looking into those eyes of his and seeing that sparkle too? You start to wonder how in the heck is Sako even a villain to begin with?! Despite this, he’s still so dear to you whether he’s a villain or not. Because when you’re together, he’s always keen on showing his truth that lies within his heart. He’s always gonna show you the real him, so you never have to worry about anything else.

-The absolute king of really terrible dad jokes. In fact, he’s bad at just about any and all jokes! But you still laugh at his cheesy attempt because of the way he eagerly delivers the jokes. And because you’re laughing really hard at the moment, he figures the joke must have been a hit. You don’t have the heart to tell him it was lame and that was why you were laughing so hard. You also don’t have the heart to tell him memes is not pronounced mi-mi’s. Sure he’s a little behind in the times but he’s genuine with it, and it seems so wholesome coming from him

-You never get tired of his little magic tricks or his over the top presentations for them. No matter how many times he hits you with the sudden flowers in a marble trick, you always gush at it. However, you might need to tell him to slow it down because you’re running out of space to put all those flowers he keeps on making appear!

-He’s patient with you, and very caring. He’s a little less jealous than most men, but that’s only because he shows such maturity for his age. I mean, Sako wonders why he should get jealous the waiter at the restaurant is flirting with you when he trusts you? The answer is: he knows he doesn’t have to. Sako trusts you and knows you wouldn’t do anything to put a wedge in the relationship (and he’d never do so either). This is just one of the many things that makes him such a wonderful partner!

~Giran~

-He’s a businessman...well, of sorts. You knew long before you two got together what type of ‘work’ Giran was tied up with. You knew how hectic it was, and you even knew it was dangerous as well. These are just the things you signed up for having being with him. Now just because of is business demeanor, doesn’t mean he’s not gonna treat you right. Giran treats you softly while still being just firm enough to help offer guidance at the same time. Sure he’ll give you kisses if you stumble in life, but he’s still gonna direct you and scold you like a kid sometimes so you’ll see your mistakes and correct them. He’s pretty damn supportive, and you can bet he’s got plenty of wisdom with those years on him

-Will literally buy you whatever you want. You want a new phone, a fancy outfit or something? You want a new car? Fine, give him a little time and he’s on it. At this point, he’s got sugar daddy energy but please try not to call him that. Well...leave off the sugar part as respect. Giran doesn’t mind if you just use daddy sometimes though😏

-This man would be a mess without you. His sense of style is questionable at best and his memory isn’t the best when he’s feeling overwhelmed with work. You probably have to direct him to his socks in the morning because he’s scattering about like a chicken with it’s head cut off. Sometimes he might let you sit with him at one of his more secure work places. You help him stay focused sometimes, while other times he can’t help but focus on you instead of work. Those are the days where you have to head home and let him be lol

-He’d probably dispose of anybody that dared disrespect you or hurt you. He wouldn’t be so quick to do it on public or with you knowing. No, he’d hire some ‘helpful hands’ to do his dirty work for him. You’ll never hear from that person again and if you ever bring it up, he just distracts you with 1000 butterfly kisses and tender caresses to your cheek. Sure he smells of cigarettes, whiskey, and cologne at the moment, but damn is he the man for you❤❤❤

»—————————–———————————————————–✄

Instagram: @pastelbattydraws & @pastelbattystore

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCRNMJH7vHL7APNobUykhK4w?view_as=subscriber

#shigaraki #shigiraki tomura #shigaraki tomura #mr. compress #mr compress #sako atsuhiro #atsuhiro sako #Giran #bnha giran #kagero okuta #league of villains #lov #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

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vesuvian-american · 4 years ago

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Could you please do some hcs for all 6 with an Mc who’s chronically ill ? (currently recovering from surgery w your awesome soft headcanons)

I know this was sent super duper long ago, i’m so sorry for ever making you wait, but i’m hoping you’re better and i’m glad my headcanons a were there for you! 💗

Asra:

Asra does all he can to help you recover but i feel like bc of the trauma he experienced with your death before, he’ll start to withdrawal and distance himself a bit

He tries magic to make you comfortable he calls on Julian, he asks Nadia for favors but when you need him to just lay with you for a bit and spend time together he’ll find an excuse to bolt

At least at first, you’ll voice your concerns and he’ll kick himself figuratively forever neglecting you like that

You understand how he must feel so you both move on from that fairly quick, he never leaves your side again, and you love him for it.

Doctors stay close, Muriel drops off eggs, whoever he needs will help with anything he can’t do, just so he can’t stay within your reach for as long as you need

Nadia:

An entire wing of the palace is dedicated to you and your medical needs

Doctors and nurses from all over are called to look you over and treat you to no avail, you can only be made comfortable

But even so, the foot traffic to you room never slows. Nurses and servants tend to your every need, and Nadia spends all the time that she can with you

That is until she’s pulled away to her duties as Countess

She has her headaches, and her temper can, and does flair but she’s just stressed over you.

If you feel even a bit suffocated being cooped up inside all day she’ll be sure to take time off no matter what to take you on a walk around the grounds of the palace

Her sisters come to keep you company of her Nadias duties become too important, but there’s never a night where you two don’t bathe together and sleep

Julian:

Julian treats you to the beta of his ability at first, nothing seems to work for a while but he pushes any negative thoughts to the back of his mind

The longer this mystery illness lasts though he starts feeling a bit in denial about it all

“Oh it’s nothing serious my darling, it’s just a flu i encountered once abroad! You’ll be in top top shape in no time my dear!”

You try time and time again to tell him you think it’s something more and he hears you, he just doesn’t want to believe it.

It isn’t until he notices the small changes in you, paper skin, no appetite, weight changes, that’s when he finally calls for Nazali to take over and for himself to just be there for you as your partner

You think he almost spends too much time tending to your needs but there’s no way you could ever ask him to stop, he keeps you at peace

Muriel:

Muriel notices quickly that you’re sick, almost before you do

You seem just a tad bit slower at the daily chores and suddenly aren’t really in the mood for the eggs he cooks

He’s quick to tell Asra, he can’t handle this alone, whatever it is

Even before it seems serious he’s already wishing it were him and not you, he’s hoping this doesn’t last long he doesn’t know how much his heart can take

He wants more than anything for you to get healthy soon, and he doesn’t think that’ll happen in his damp, muddy hut

He moves you back to the shop and immediately leaves back to the woods, he doesn’t want to be in the way and he doesn’t want you to see him worked up

He feels his mood could make you feel worse, and he feels guilty, “you’re not used to the woods of course you’d get sick” he thinks

Asra talks to him per your request, even though he was going to do that anyway, he guides Muriel back to the shop and never allows him to leave, and Muriel finds, he couldn’t imagine leaving you anyhow

He apologizes and he’s forever holding your hand, he’s strict, he makes sure you eat and stay hydrated, and he’ll do it for as long as he needs to

Portia:

You tell Portia later than you should have that you think somethings wrong, and as much as she hates to ask for help, Portia runs to Nadia for aid

Portia is reluctant to move you into the palcace but if it’ll help you feel better, she’ll agree, she always making you warm hearty soups to heal you up

Mazelinka visits from time to time to, to bring by some soups of her own, and help Portia deal with her emotions

Portia won’t admit it but it’s tearing her up inside seeing you so down, and Mazelinka knows how she feels, she’s taking care of Portia, while Portia takes care of you

Portia stayed a few nights alone at her cottage but rarely caught any sleep, on the third night she took whatever she could carry and brought it to the room you were staying in so you both could be together through it all

She was pardoned of her work during this time so you two never spent a second apart, Nadia didn everything she could to help you and Portia and it was appreciated

Lucio:

Lucio probably felt the most denial about you being sick, he didn’t want to believe anything was actually wrong

But even though he didn’t think it was so serious, he still called in the best doctors from abroad just to confirm his suspicion that you were just fine

He didn’t take the news well, that you were ill, very ill, but he looked to the bright side, you’re cool and strong, you’ll beat this in no time and you both can get on with your lives

Any doctor he hired he wouldn’t allow to leave the palace, they all moved in where they could and tending to you 24 hours a day, he neglected any work he should have been up to and waved off any servant that tried to grab his attention and take him anywhere away from you

To hell with his responsibilities, he’s only worried about you and he’s not take his eyes off you, not for a second, Nadia will help when she can and talk sense into him when you ask but he’s stubborn

So stubborn in fact that he never really lets up when it comes to you and your comfort, always going above and beyond, it’s endearing but you don’t want him to tire himself out tending to you, you don’t want him to wats who’s time with you

But he waves you off, sternly he tell you about when he was sick, he’d give anything to have someone spend time with him like this, “I know how it feels, please dont make me leave” He hated being alone during that time

When he’s not with you, he feels like he’s the one that’s sickly, he needs to you keep him sane and grounded, he’ll go mad if he’s not 100% sure himself that you’re okay and happy as you can be, you welcome it, and after that heart to heart you had about his past ailment with the plague, you’ve bonding on another level

You realize you never truly wanted him to leave you, you’re happy and content, he’s strong for the both of you

#the arcana #the arcana game #main 6 #headcanon #headcanons #angst #fluff #asra #nadia satrinava #julian devorak #muriel #portia devorak #lucio #chronic illness #hc #asks #ask #request #requests

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yandere-daydreams · 5 years ago

Note

do you have an oc? i want hear about your ocs

Right! I’ve actually had these four siblings in mind for a while, and I *will* use any excuse I get to talk about them. In my defense, they’re all great. Babies that are well past spoiled-rotten, but they’re my babies, and I can’t help that. (The picrews used are here x x x x)

TW: Imprisonment, Emotional Manipulation, Delusional Mindsets, Non-Consensual Drug-Use and Toxic Relationships.

Name: Lionel Hardcastle

Position: The Failure of an Older Brother

Age: 26

Type: Delusional And Obsessive.

Bio: The tranquil, would-be heir to the Hardcastle organization. Although his younger siblings were considered, Lionel was always the best with clients, the calmest in painfully crushing situations, and even if he made a point to hide it, the undisputed favorite of his parents. He would’ve taken over as soon as he was of-age, but his glaring lack of interest in the world of business and leadership provided quite the roadblock.

Well, and the fact that he can’t read. Never could, never will, and he shows no indication of an ability to learn. Needless to say, this caused some… minor issues between him and the rest of his family.

That might be why he likes you so much, his sweetheart, his love, the light of his oh-so-frigid life. You’re just so kind, and he knows you’ll never abandon him, even if you act so stubborn whenever he asks you to promise. It’s all he can do not to laugh when you throw your little tantrums and scream like you don’t adore the affection he’ll lather onto you so suffocatingly. There’s nothing he’d rather do than be around you, any moment where his skin isn’t on your instantly becoming unbearable. It’s no wonder he’s always the first of his siblings to snap. He hardly remembers to breathe, when you’re not in the room.

Lionel is quite the artist, too, focusing on stone and sculpting but dabbling in paint whenever the temptation strikes him. Suffice to say, as his fixation begins to outweigh his rationality his patient partner becomes his favorite muse. There’s more of your likenesses in existence than there are galleries to house them, but don’t worry, Lionel’s got a special portion of his workshop dedicated to all those mediocre extras, if only to keep himself sustained when you’ve switched from begging for the restraints to come off to hiding yourself away. Still, there’s only so long he can last before breaking and running to find you. If you really wanted to be alone, then you must not want to be with him. That’d mean you were trying to get away from him, trying to leave him, and…

Lionel just isn’t sure if he can take that. Not again, and certainly not from you. He’s a weak man, when it comes to that, but he as more than enough iron-based safety measures to put his mind at ease.

Name: Persia Hardcastle

Position: The Motherly Middle Sister

Age: 25

Type: Controlling and Overbearing

Bio: Where do you even start with Persia? She’s the second-born, but it wouldn’t be untrue to say she’s more akin to a nanny than another Hardcastle. Part of it comes from how she grew up, how she had to take care of a pair of twins and deal with a suddenly absentee older brother, all while juggling just how unprepared her parents were for their own tragic, mysterious, purely accidental deaths. But, some people think she’s just… like that. A perfectionist, even when it comes to her own flesh-and-blood.

Of course, you’re no exception. She’s just as tightly-laced with you as she is while trying to save Finn’s reputation or bring Lionel back home. She does love you, don’t get me wrong, but you’re her stress-relief, her saving grace, the only factor in her life she can have complete control of, even if she doesn’t realize just how much sway she has over you. She knows it isn’t healthy, that no one should think the things she does about you, but Persia can’t risk losing you. She won’t lock you up, she isn’t crazy, but… she doesn’t really have to use chains and collars, either.

It’s odd, how fixed a certain behavior can be for one person, even after they’ve outgrown the use for it. She was the main caretaker for the twins while they were growing up, so she may’ve gotten into the habit of being a little… parental, when it comes to those she loves. If that just means giving you a disapproving look when you’re eating something you shouldn’t be or insisting on tucking you in at night, count yourself lucky. Falling into her role a little too passionately certainly wouldn’t be out of character, not when she’s already so invested in making sure you’re happy and healthy and by her side. Her angel’s medication is a small price to pay for bliss, really, even if you’re such a baby when it comes to taking it.

Name: Evelyn (Evie) Hardcastle

Position: The Mature Younger Sister

Age: 19

Type: Manipulative and Possessive

Bio: Now, here’s our heir. I mean, why wouldn’t she be? She’s fully literate and everything! Evie’s parents were already gone before Finn and her were so much as differentiable, but their advisors caught on to the siblings’ personalities quickly. Naturally, Evie found her way into a position of power as quickly as she was able to, not only for lack of competition. Not unlike her older brother, she doesn’t have any real interest in whatever vague, sketchy medical field she was thrust into, but Evie stands apart from the pure-intentions of most Hardcastsles. She likes the power of it all, how big it makes her feel.

She likes knowing she’s the one in charge. You’ll come to understand that, with time.

There’s a good chance you’re her assistant or secretary or some member of her staff that made the mistake of getting a little too friendly, stumbling your way into her cold, dead heart before she could properly put up her defenses. The specifics don’t really matter, not as long as you have those big, shining doe-eyes and the sense to do whatever she says without a second thought. She just thinks you’re so soft, so cute, so vulnerable when you’re in the hands of someone stronger than you… you can’t blame her for getting a little carried away, honestly.

Don’t worry, though, Evie’s the most responsible sibling for a reason. She’s not a nice woman, but she can put on quite the show, as long as it’s for your sake. She’ll be whatever you need her to be for the longest time, whether that’s a boss willing to make compromises or a shoulder to cry on. She’ll string you along for as long as she needs to, having you isolate yourself and falling into her arms so sweetly, but her patience tends to wear thin when someone else comes into the picture. Do your best to avoid that, regardless of how minor the relationship may seem. She already keeps you on such a tight leash… it’d be a massacre if you gave her a real excuse to use force.

Name: Finnian (Finn) Hardcastle

Position: The Rebellious Younger Brother

Age: 19

Type: Jealous and Obsessive

Bio: I hope you’re not prone to whiplash, because Finn is the polar opposite of his sister. Despite being twins, identical on the deepest level two people can be, Evie was groomed while Finn was cast to the side, spoiled and let run wild, unimpeded by the standards his other siblings were held to. He has nothing to do with the family cooperation and as little to do with the others as possible, and he likes it that way. You might’ve caught on, by now, but Finn isn’t exactly the ‘business’ type.

But, distance breeds loneliness, and loneliness breeds desperation. It’s not that he latches onto everyone and anyone, no, Finn is rather selective, but he refuses to let go when he does find someone he wants to be with. You’re just so smart and so clever and so perfect, and all Finn wants to do is stay close to you, to never leave your side. The goal is innocent, full of misguided hope, but Finn didn’t exactly have a normal upbringing. He doesn’t know he shouldn’t want to follow you home or that it’s a little off-putting for a stranger to sit so close to you on an empty train, nor is he going to catch on if you try to turn him down gently. Hell, even if scream and do tell him what a pathetic stalker he is, you won’t get very far. Finn is just so happy you’re talking to him, he can’t bring himself to process what you’re saying.

Oh, and keep in in mind that he’s very used to being the center of attention. Whether it’s Persia’s persistent demands for ‘family time’ or Evie’s loudly voiced concerns, Finn knows when he’s the focus, and he doesn’t like it when the spotlight is somewhere else. That applies to you, too, as hard as he tries to stay on your good side. Distractions aren’t an option, he just gets so twitchy whenever he starts to think he’s your second-favorite, even if you’re being stolen away by a gift he got for you. It’s not a pleasant sort of envy, either. The way he clings to you and whines may seem harmless, at first, but Finn isn’t exactly good at holding himself back, especially when it comes to you. Desperation can turn into destruction in the blink of an eye, and he rarely goes after your new toys.

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tamamatango · 4 years ago

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Let’s talk about Kururu, again

Apparently the fandom is growing all of a sudden so I feel like talking about Kururu again cuz that’s all I know how to do and it’s been a while

First off disclaimer that fandom is fandom and anybody can interpret any character any way they want and if you like to portray a character a certain way for whatever reason go for it, more power to you (unless you put them in pedo/incest relationships that are displayed as good in which case fuck you). But in my personal Kirbpinion(TM) the Funimation dub was a fucking mistake because so many fan content creators write a way different Kururu than what he is in canon cuz the dub never got to his best episodes and also upped the sadism to ridiculous levels. Listen I know it’s funny to joke that he’s the kind of guy that has 3 medieval torture chambers but hear me out. Kururu is by no means a perfect person, he’s genuinely pretty rude/blunt (though sometimes his straightforwardness is justified :P), has an ego, sometimes acts pretty gross around others and likes extreme and elaborate pranks way way way too much BUT.

Assuming you’ve watched far enough into the series (like 100+ eps) I do not really understand the interpretation that he doesn’t care about anyone and that friendship and love are things he is totally incapable of. He says that yes but if you pay enough attention to his dialogue it becomes pretty apparent that he displays this attitude for multiple reasons. One is that he does genuinely have a hard time expressing the emotions he feels and often has awkward/guarded ways of doing so. But also he says many times over the course of the series that he has a “reputation” to keep up and wants people to call him a jerk; he wants to look cool and rebellious all the time and he thinks a nasty apathetic attitude is what earns him that status (not claiming that’s a healthy mindset, mind you). He wants to have full control over the way people see him and he gets super frustrated and humiliated when he can’t. This is probably why he gets so upset when people talk about how unpopular he is, because he’s spent so much time honing his image to a T and is like why the fuck isn’t this working?! In other words even though sometimes he is just an actual pain in the neck a lot of his asshole antics are part of a carefully manufactured persona, and he will do anything down to labeling his own memories to prevent other people from seeing through his facade and discovering the parts of him that are vulnerable.

And God forbid anyone does figure out that he does care quite a bit for the people around him, or at least if he didn’t at first he does now. Early on in the series he was commonly referred to as “depressing” and while the meta reason is probably just the anime writers just didn’t know how to adapt the character yet (he started out a little differently in the manga), in canon I believe he was just even more inclined to push everybody away from him, and as he began to get used to working in a group he gradually opened up. He commentates on how “soft” he’s gotten since he came to Earth a couple times, and the fact that he’s surprisingly one of the most loyal to Keroro out of the whole team (in many episodes where everyone abandons Keroro for being dumb he leaves last) and goes out of his way to help when he thinks it’s warranted (he asks for money when things aren’t dire yeah but hey labor deserves compensation :V) shows that he is dedicated to his team. There’s even episodes where he doles out some kind of moral lesson to the squad in his own Kururu-y way, especially to Keroro and Tamama. Even the Hinatas he’ll pitch in to protect when he has to, and we all know he’ll pretty much drop everything if Saburo needs him.

Speaking of which. I think the unspoken reason why he’s best friends with Saburo (besides the surface-level stuff like they’re smart and nerdy and seen as enigmas by everybody else) is because Saburo is the only other person in the cast who understands Kururu’s particular struggle of putting on airs as a means of self-defense all the time. He basically has a carefully managed celebrity life (that he has to constantly work to hide in anime canon), a somewhat formal/reserved public life, and the more quirky enthusiastic side of himself he only shows when alone and to the few people he’s close to and god damn that just sounds like the most exhausting juggling act ever. He has an outlet to free himself through his art but he still has to live with nobody quite knowing what he goes through on a daily basis, which is probably why we see him off on his own for most of the series (until he gets to warm up to everybody better...wonder who that sounds like) and occasionally have his bouts of frustration and insecurity like in 229 where he says “fuck it I’m gonna fight the apocalypse alone because I need something to do,” 354(? I think that’s the number) where he talks about just dropping everything and starting over, and I think one of the Christmas eps where Giroro has to like beg him to go to the Hinatas’ party cuz he says he’s “busy�� even though he’s just sitting around pretty much (UPDATE: it’s 294 the implication is probably that he has his show or something but cmon that’s only like an hour lol). I am going off on a tangent now but anyway the point is he and Kururu are the most complicated communicators of the cast and they share feelings only they understand which is why they can more or less read each other’s minds and know exactly what to do when the other is in trouble.

Back to Kururu. Keroro, from what I can tell, is the closest to him out of the Platoon; Keroro gets freaked out by Kururu’s pranks sometimes yeah but they have a lot of common interests as the fun-lovers of the group and Kururu’s also kinda been interested in Keroro enough time follow him around for almost his entire life up to this point so there’s that. He also gets along with the other people he‘s around; we know he and Aki get along from the beginning because of how dynamic their personalities are but later on he gets close to Fuyuki to the point where they just hang out for the heck of it sometimes, and even though Natsumi is very justified in generally disliking him (many of Kururu’s more Eugh moments tend to involve her) even she seems to rely on him often, and in the cursed puppy episode she knows all his favorite foods by heart so she must care in some fashion lol. Dororo and he aren’t evidently super close but I think they get each other on some level as the (in-universe) least popular of the platoon and Dororo at least respects his abilities, and has clearly come to figure out his subtleties based on 229. Giroro and Mois...things get complicated. Just putting on record that I’m not a fan of either ship between Kururu and them. I’ve said this before but I think Giroro and Kururu are in a turbulent sibling-adjacent relationship in that they have completely opposing attitudes but they have a begrudging sense of respect for each other and, ultimately, they’re teammates, so they’ll defend each other when someone they don’t know tries to mess with them. I really don’t think the flirty stuff on Kururu’s end goes beyond teasing and I got kinda sick of that running gag if I’m being honest. (You can probably tell which frog I ship Kururu with by now :P) Mois went from something of a rival to Kururu to his lab partner, which is probably why he goes easier on her than he used to and even strikes up something of a friendship because the only other person he knows that might be capable of handling his technology is an Earthling who’s still against the invasion despite his lax attitude so. She helps :V

Now the question is why Kururu acts like he does if his relationships really aren’t all that bad and I think there’s two components to this. I’ve made it clear by now I think he’s autistic but your mileage may vary there. I think personally his childhood did something to the way he processes things as well. In Secret of the Kero Ball, he’s got a bandage on his head which may imply he got hurt somewhere and then he almost drowned which canonically definitely did something to him lol, was mostly seen alone so who knows if he has a family he still talks to, and then he got drafted into the army and placed into a high-ranking position of great responsibility at a very young age; it’s kind of a no-brainer why he rebeled and got demoted eventually. I’ve got plenty of headcanons about what his early days in the Military did to him but that’s for another day because good God this post went on too long.

In short: Kururu is possibly the most complicated character in the show and the F in Flanderization stands for “Funimation.” That’s it I’m never writing another essay about pee-color frog again I will make real content again at some point I promise

#keroro gunso #sgt frog #kururu #kululu #long post #i sure spent 2 hours on this #imo kururu is a more compelling tsundere than giroro there I said it

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slashnatic · 5 years ago

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SFW ALPHABET [Vincent Sinclair]

A = Affection (how affectionate they are, how they show affection)

Vincent is a very affectionate partner, but in his very own way. He loves you and he wants to show you, but showing love doesn‘t come natural to him. He knows what love can be like from his mother, but other than that he‘s never experienced actual affection. At the beginning of your relationship he shows you affection through small gestures. You accidentally cut yourself? He’ll get you a band-aid, no matter if it’s needed or not. Things like that are what he does to show you affection. When it comes to “normal“ ways of being affectionate in a romantic relationship he‘s rather awkward at first. He gets used to it quickly though, he‘s a fast learner. From that on kisses, hugs and cuddles are a must.

B = Best Friend (how they‘d be like as a best friend)

Vincent is a good friend. He takes care of whoever is important to him as much as it‘s needed and more. Sometimes it feels like it doesn‘t mean much to him because he just does it. He helps you if you need it, in whatever way, but he acts more on things than talking about them. If you have an emotional conflict he‘ll try to do something to change the situation you‘re in. His mask also plays a big role in this since you can‘t see him showing any actual reaction or emotion. If you get used to it though you‘ll know he is a wonderful friend.

He is an amazing listener. It‘s not actually because he doesn‘t talk, but rather because he likes for you to confide in him. It makes him feel appreciated and he wants to get to know you. If you‘re not much of a talker it‘s not a problem either, he doesn‘t need conversation. Spending time with you in silence is just fine.

Vincent is fun to be around...if you consider silence fun. He‘s very dedicated to his work and not very adventurous otherwise. It doesn’t take much to convince him to join you for a movie night or a card game but that‘s about it. He always has time for you though, you just don‘t always have one hundred percent of his attention.

C = Cuddles (if and how they like to cuddle)

Once he gets used to it he loves it. He doesn‘t have a preference when it comes to cuddling, he just takes what he can get. Big or little spoon, it doesn‘t matter.

He has a favourite cuddling position though. He likes for both of you to lie with either your forehead leaned against his or your face nuzzled in his chest and his arms around you. You‘re close to each other and he can look at your face whenever he feels like it, depending on where you position your head he just needs to move back a little.

D = Domestic (do they want to settle down? how are they at cooking and cleaning?)

You basically settle down the moment it becomes clear you‘re in a relationship. You‘ll have your own tasks in Ambrose and therefore you are fully integrated in the life of basically all three brothers. You live in the house with them too, but at some point the both of you would consider moving into another house in the town to start your own family.

Vincent is unintentionally messy. He doesn‘t even realize he is. He is extremely oblivious to his questionable life style in terms of cleanliness. Trying to get him to clean is a huge struggle, not because he doesn‘t want to help you, but because he doesn‘t see the point. There are more important things you could do in that time.

He never actually cooks, but if you‘d want him too he would try. The first few times the outcome will be questionable, but he‘ll improve quickly and he‘ll turn out to be quite a good cook. He prefers to cook with you together than cooking on his own though, no matter if you‘re good at it or not. He just likes to spend time with you like that.

E = Ending (how they‘d break up with their partner if they had to)

It‘s very unlikely that he would ever beak up with you. He‘s an all-or-nothing type of person. If he‘s in a relationship with you he loves you and he‘s willing to spend the rest of his life with you.

If he‘d break up with you it would be because he thinks it‘s better for you. There would need to be a special occasion for him to go that for though. In a way he‘s a bit selfish when it comes to you. He loves you and he wants you to be with him, if you say you love him too he‘ll do anything to keep you with him.

The break-up on it‘s own would be a mess. He‘d be nervous, barely forming a comprehensible sentence and once he said what he wanted to say he regrets it and wants to take it back. He knows that‘s impossible though, realization kicks in and he just starts to cry. If you actually leave he‘ll never recover from the heartbreak and mourn you forever, if you choose to stay he‘d willingly take you back and will spoil you as much as possible, trying to make it up to you.

F = Fiance/e (how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?)

Once he‘s let you in and you‘re a part of his life you‘re also a part of him. You live your life together as if you were married but he won‘t ask you to marry him. You‘re just fine like that, you don‘t need to get married. If he realizes you want to get married though he‘ll prepare a simple yet extremely romantic proposal for you. He wants you to be entirely happy and if you need to be married for that - no problem.

G = Gentle (how gentle they are, both physically and emotionally)

Vincent is thoroughly a very gentle soul.

His touch is always soft and tender, caring and loving. The reason for that is a mixture of adoration and shyness. He just holds so much love for you but is afraid to scare you away somehow, so he is always careful.

He is emotionally gentle for the same reasons. He never pressures you into anything and respects your decisions in any way, he always listens to you and he takes care of you. Most importantly though he offers you to do the same for him, he lets you in, he‘s soft and vulnerable only for you.

H = Hugs (if and how they like to hug)

Yes.

Please, yes.

Vincent loves hugs. He feels so safe and warm and practically melts away the second you wrap your arms around him.

His favourite way to hug is when you wrap your arms around his torso and he wraps his arms around your shoulders, resting his head right there. If you stroke and scratch his back as well he will probably faint. It‘s so simple yet so loving. He loves those hugs (or any hugs, really) the most when they are random. Just surprise him with a hug and he will be happy for the rest of his life the day.

I = I Love You (how fast they say the l-word)

Like with everything else it takes him a while. He is only completely yours once the mask is gone. Telling you he loves you is something different though, it‘s difficult. He knows how much it means and he’s scared. He tells you he loves you in other ways than verbally though and he does that very early in the relationship. Little gestures like paintings with the secret intention of showing you he loves you through little hints hidden in the picture or even a hand gesture he makes up which means ‘i love you‘ in his mind. So he does tell you he loves you quite early, you just wouldn‘t know.

J = Jealousy (how jealous they get, how they act when they‘re jealous)

He gets jealous very easily. It‘s mostly because he‘s insecure. The moment he sees someone talking to you and you‘re a bit to comfortable with them he freaks out. He trusts you, but he has no self-esteem and on top of that he knows that living in a dead town full of dead people isn‘t exactly everyone‘s dream life.

He‘ll barely ever act on his jealousy though, at least not in that very moment. But when you lie next to him in bed at the end of the day he gets very clingy and just wants you to love him. He kind of acts like a cat which wants to be stroked. Most of the time it‘s pretty clear what that behavior means. You just need to be affectionate, physically and verbally, and he will calm down and won‘t bring it up again.

There are (very few) times when he snaps and gets really angry. He acts very cold, not towards you but in general. If the person who is responsible for that happens to be a victim they won‘t live much longer. At some point he will probably be jealous of Bo and they‘ll get into a screaming match, another time it will be Lester who just completely ignores the accusations, but at the end of the day they‘ll get along again anyway.

K = Kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?)

He prefers to be kissed without the mask on as a reassurance that you love him, everything of him. Vincent‘s favourite is a simple kiss on the lips, no tongue and not longer than a couple of seconds. To him it‘s just such a pure way of showing affection and he loves that.

He also likes to be kissed on the cheek. For that it doesn‘t matter if he has the mask on or not. He just like to be shown affection in easy ways.

If you kiss him in front of someone else he will be over the moon. You don‘t only love him but you are also willing to show it to the world? God, please stay forever.

L = Little Ones (how they behave around children)

He ignores them for the most part, if possible. If a child would talk to him he‘d give short and reserved answers, if he has to hold a baby for some reason he will, but he‘s very stiff doing that. It‘s not that he doesn‘t like children, he just has no experience with them, he thinks they won‘t like him and he is afraid that he‘ll either hurt them or scare them.

If the two of you would have children it would be something entirely different though. Of course he‘d still be afraid to hurt or scare them but he wants to take care of them. He wants to be a good father and although he‘s afraid of failing he‘ll give his all.

M = Morning (how mornings are spent with them)

He is often working in the morning. You probably have to go to the basement once you‘re awake if you want to eat breakfast together. He‘ll definitely follow you back to the house for that, but as soon as he sits down he‘s basically asleep. So a typical morning with Vincent is basically you making sure that he‘s going to sleep, at least at the beginning of the relationship.

If you fall asleep together mornings with Vincent are the most beautiful thing in the world. Although he doesn‘t get a lot of sleep he‘s always awake before you are and he wakes you up with kisses. Kisses everywhere. He‘s sleepy for up to a couple of hours after he woke up and when he‘s sleepy he‘s a shameless romantic. For some reason he‘s less shy in the mornings, in the safety of your shared bedroom.

His favourite thing is to go down on you in the morning and wake you up like that. Your soft moans are music to his hears and to him there‘s no better way to start the day.

N = Night (how nights are spent with them)

He‘s working most of the time, but if you get him to ditch that for you, you‘ll just cuddle in bed and talk about this and that. Sometimes you watch a movie or play cards too, but nothing more exciting. He just wants to relax.

Sleeping is a difficult topic. At the beginning of the relationship you‘re barely ever going to bed together since he‘s barely ever going to bed at all. If you make it clear that you‘d rather go to bed together with him, he will comply. After the first night you actually spend together he‘s almost a bit too eager about going to bed with you again. It‘s just so nice falling asleep with you in his arms. Once he‘s discovered that he wants it for the rest of his life.

O = Open (when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It will take him a long time to openly reveal things about himself, a couple of months but less than a year, that is if you interact daily. If you don‘t interact very often it will take him longer.

While it takes him a while to openly share things about himself he will drop hints along the way. He lets you know personal details once in a while.

The moment he reveales himself fully to you, the moment he takes off the mask, he is completely open with you. He lets you know whatever you want to know, really. The mask doesn‘t only cover his face but it also covers him as a person, in a way. It protects him from any harm and it protects him from getting attached, since he has a strong emotional connection to the mask. Once it‘s gone so are his walls.

P = Patience (how easily angered they are)

Vincent is a very laid-back man with tons of patience. Most of the time he really just doesn‘t care enough to get angry. He can tolerate almost everyone and everything but if you manage to set him off things escalate quickly.

Since he almost never actually acts on any kind of frustration a lot of things just accumulate. Eventually he will snap and he will get unexpectedly loud, since he‘s usually so quiet and he will also act very cold towards you. He will only lose his temper when there is an actual reason. Therefore he doesn‘t apologize for the way he acted, but he is also never resentful.

Q = Quizzes (how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Everything. He basically remembers everything you ever said or did. He also knows a lot of thinks you haven‘t particularly mentioned. He‘s very observant and picks up on everything quickly. He‘ll figure out what every little habit you have means, why you do it, in what situations and so on. He also observed you when you didn’t actually know he was there, but he‘ll never let you know if you don‘t figure it out on your own.

R = Remember (their favorite moment in your relationship)

His favourite moment was when you showed him a clearly positive reaction to his face for the first time. It was the first time for him in general and he‘ll never forget that. He‘s been more confident ever since. He tried to draw you in that moment, the look in your eyes and the smile on your face. Realizing that he actually can be loved, although he looks like this or maybe that this can be loved too made him tear up. He often thinks back to that moment and it makes him smile everytime. He often subconsciously touches his cheek too, remembering the feeling of your lips kissing his scars.

S = Security (how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

He gives you freedom but he‘s always on guard. The lifestyle you have isn‘t necessarily safe and he wants to make sure you‘re alright all the time. If something life-threatening happens he‘s quick to step in and eliminate whoever dares to come near you. If it isn‘t a life-or-death-situation he watches your reaction first. He lets you handle it on your own if he thinks that‘s what you want but will step in if it becomes too much.

He would never ask for it but he likes it when you step in whenever someone makes an unpleasant comment about his looks or behavior. He likes to be protected from any verbal assault.

T = Try (how much effort they put into anniversaries, dates, everyday tasks, gifts)

This really depends. While he always puts effort in everything he does for or with you the outcome is always different. Dates with him are pretty simple, if they even happen. He‘s awkward when it comes to dating, so he might never actually asks you on a date. The same goes for anniversaries. He actually doesn’t care too much about them. He wants to show you love and appreciation everyday the same, he doesn‘t want or need a special occasion for that. He does everyday tasks carefully and well and always puts some effort into them, for the outcome to be good, but never more than that. He does put a lot of effort in gifts for you though. He‘s a perfectionist and he won‘t give something to you if it‘s not the best it can be. He puts a lot of work in his presents for you and they‘re almost always self-made. You also get presents quite often.

U = Ugly (bad habits of them)

He doesn‘t take care of himself at all. He doesn‘t sleep enough, he doesn‘t eat or drink enough, his hygiene is rather poor and he also barely talks about his concerns.

He also can be a bit of a prick when it comes to his art. He loves what he does and he knows he is fairly good at it. If you‘re willing to discuss it and you‘re not a professional when it comes to this topic, having this conversation will be a bit uncomfortable. He‘s just proud of that one thing he‘s extremely good at and he wants you to know that he is good at something.

V = Vanity (how concerned they are with their looks)

He worries a lot about his face. He hates it and tries to hide it to the best of his abilities. Everything beyond that doesn‘t concern him too much though. He washes his hair once a week at the most and he doesn‘t shower much more often. It‘s not that he doesn’t care about hygiene at all, it‘s just that he‘s busy working most of the time and to him working is more important than hygiene. As long as his face is covered he‘s fine.

W = Whole (would they feel incomplete without you?)

Like with everything else, once he‘s let you in and you‘ve become a part of his life he can‘t live without you anymore. He needs you and he depends on you almost one hundred percent. If you ever left him he‘d never recover from the heartbreak. You‘re his everything and a life without you is unimaginable.

X = X-tra (a random headcanon)

Vincent likes his hair a lot. He likes when you play with it, but he loves when you braid flowers into it. It makes him feel so soft and he enjoys that.

He originally grew his hair out so he could hide his face better, but now he really likes the look of it. He keeps that a secret though because it‘s not the “typical“ hairstyle for men and he doesn‘t want to be made fun of for liking it.

Y = Yuck (things they don‘t like in a partner and in general)

Vincent is chill to be around and acceptant of almost everything, but god forgive him if you‘re childish. His patience decreases at an inhuman pace if you behave like a child. It‘s not “immature“ jokes or being afraid of something or things like that. It‘s more things like refusing to talk to him if you‘re mad but pouting instead, spending more time whining about something unpleasant you have to do instead of just doing it and moving on or -and that‘s the worst- using a baby voice in an attempt to get what you want or to be cute. He‘ll ignore it for the first few minutes until he snaps and then he goes mad. He becomes scary, but in that moment he doesn‘t care. You‘re a grown-ass person, behave like one!

Z = ZZZ (a sleep habit of them)

He doesn‘t sleep. That‘s his habit. He‘s awake for up to three days until he takes a nap of four hours at the most and then he‘s working again.

If he sleeps he preferably sleeps during the day. Since he doesn‘t have a sleeping schedule it happens more often than not that he goes to bed when most people are wide awake.

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