#also completely useless on the field
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
If there are zero Depay haters, I am dead
#euro 2024#disgusting piece of shit#enabler of abuse#getting a rapist out of prison for 1 MILLION#also completely useless on the field
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
FAMILY TITLES AMONG THE HILL TRIBES
(ft. various linguistic notes and tangents)
In-universe Brakul’s self-given title of ‘Red-Dog’ is Brakul 'ne-Dainh' in his native language (Bict-Urbinnas dialect of the Highland language group) and Brakul 'Chin-Reyla' in Wardi. Ne-Dainh/Chin-Reyla is not something he treats as or considers an actual surname or identity, just a self-styled nickname. He already has a title.
Family names/surnames are not a native practice among the Hill Tribes (though some clans or individual families have adopted this practice), and all traditionally use titles that designate immediate ancestry, clan and tribe. These full titles are officially given when one comes of age and are spoken aloud in ceremony (with the entire direct male and female lines listed by name, with most traditions expecting 12 generations of each being named).
The function is to cement one’s sense of place in the world, and their place in a direct ancestral line, which puts the person under the full watch and guidance of their ancestors. It's also a critical method of recording lineage- the long held practice of each person memorizing at least 24 total direct ancestors allows for very long, largely accurate records of family history to be kept, with some people able to trace their ancestry all the way back to initial settlement of the Highlands (or even beyond).
Brakul’s full title is:
“Brakul virsum Kuligan et Borunil an Briyonis ne-Taig an Bict-Urbinnas”
Which dead literally translates to “Brakul son of Kuligan and Borunil of the Foothills (of) Red-Cattle, of the North (Urbin/Erubin) River Valley” but has a much richer meaning in the original language.
"BRAKUL VIRSUM KULIGAN ET BORUNIL"
The actual meaning here is closer to ‘Brakul, son of Kuligan and his father’s fathers, and Borunil and her mother’s mothers’.
“Virsum” means ‘child (son/daughter) of’ (the gender is contextual), but implies the person’s status as a descendant of a full male and female line of ancestors. A different word is used if you’re just saying ‘I’m so and so’s son”. The title describes him as a son of his father Kuligan and of Kuligan’s male line, and of his mother Borunil and Borunil's female line.
All ancestors (within this particular system of kinship, divided into one direct male line from the father and one direct female line from the mother, and not including husbands from the female line or wives from the male line) are invoked and credited with the word ‘virsum’. Speaking it as part of the personal title is part of the routine and necessary honoring of one’s ancestors, who watch over their descendants from the afterlife and can temporarily return to the land to guide and protect (and sometimes punish, or teach sharp lessons to) the living.
"AN BRIYONIS NE-TAIG"
The actual meaning here would be understood as ‘clan/people of the foothills where cattle are lit red by the setting sun'.
‘Briyonis’ is the word for ‘foothill’, citing his clan’s specific location being the foothills that form the slopes of the north Urbin river valley. He is of a lesser clan within the powerful North Urbin River tribe. His clan benefits from close affiliation to their more powerful ruling clans located directly in the river valley, which grants them access to a greater variety of cultivated foods, but their actual position in the foothills still renders them predominantly reliant on cattle for subsistence. Clan names referencing cattle or horses are very common, given their frequent centrality to life.
The ‘ne-Taig’ literally means ‘red cattle’, but the ‘ne’ color word for red specifically invokes shades of red seen in and cast by a rising/setting sun. This red cast is culturally regarded as a unique beauty and evocative (and part of the name) of the solar god Hraighne. The foothills his clan is physically located on are a vantage point from which the western horizon is not fully obscured by mountains, and they experience very striking sunsets and are directly touched by the light. This is fairly unique to this location, and is invoked in the clan name and identity. ‘Ne-Taig’ here suggests a visual of grazing cattle illuminated red by the sun as it crosses the horizon.
‘Ne-Dainh’ carries the same implication, a dog illuminated red by setting sunlight. The Wardi language does not have a comparable word for a sunlit red and ‘Chin-Reyla’ really does just mean ‘(orangeish) red dog’ (‘reyla’ is specific to orangey-red colors, which is the closest match he could get. There’s no way to impart the meaning of ‘sunlit-red dog’ in Wardi that is non-clunky enough to be appropriate for a name).
"AN BICT-URBINNAS"
‘an Bict-Urbinnas’ is fairly simple, Bict means ‘north’, and 'Urbin' is the name of the specific river that stems from a northern and eastern tributary. This river has a very ancient name (or a derivative of one) that predates settlement by the Hill Tribes, and its exact meaning is lost.
The root -(n)nas designates a river valley, but has strong implications of being an esteemed and bountiful place, rather than solely a literal geographical descriptor (as the river valleys are centers of power and trade in the highlands). It may be a loanword from the Wardi language family, as its usage is VERY similar in form and function to the Wardi -(n)nos, which also suggests a place of esteem and bounty (more specifically having connotations of a kingdom).
’An’ literally means ‘of’, but in the specific sense of describing the place and identity of a collection of people. ‘an Bict Urbinnas’ would be understood in speech as ‘of the north Urbin River Valley (people)’. The clans historically settled in and around the valley of the North Urbin River form the totality of the Bict-Urbinnas tribe.
The ‘Urbin’ word predates the contemporary Wardi name ‘Erubin’ for the river, the latter of which invokes the semi-mythological founding figure Erub, who himself was of a Wardi tribe located downriver to the south of the Highlands. The real historically extant ‘Erub’ was most likely named Urub after the river, with his cited name shifting over the centuries in folklore, and the Wardi name for the river shifting with it.
‘Erubin’ as a corruption of ‘Urbin’ functions very well in Wardi language due to ‘-bi/bin’ denoting something as a ‘gift’, usually in a more metaphorical sense. ‘Erubin’ is understood as meaning ‘(The river that is) Erub’s gift’, and the Erubin/Urbin river is a key tributary to the much larger Black river, one of the key rivers that feeds the region's wetter and more fertile west. This 'gift' meaning also occurs in the name of the southeastern Imperial Wardi city-state Erubinnos, which is understood as meaning ’((The kingdom that is) Erub’s gift’. He is considered to have conquered and taken the land (from the core city's actual founders, the Wogan people) and established a kingdom there in the early days of warring Wardi tribal monarchies.
#Just dropping this randomly because it's a pretty complete lore dump in my notes app#Family names are a big fucking deal in the Wardi cultural sphere and not having one is associated with being a bastard or otherwise#displaced or unwanted. If pressed Brakul either fully lies and says 'ne-Dainh' (which will just come off as 'oh it's some foreign name')#Or lists his actual title (not a family name but equally important). Sometimes listing all 24 generations if he's particularly annoyed.#It's only strictly necessary to memorize 12 ancestors in each line but it's considered good practice to be able#to cite associated non-direct ancestor husbands/wives/siblings/etc. That's where the tattoos as a mnemonic device comes in#It's easy to memorize 24 ancestors but very difficult to memorize 24 ancestors and at least some of their family members#And remembering and honoring the dead by name is of great importance- both puts you under the protection of more#ancestors (including non-direct ones) and ensures the dead's status in the afterlife is secure (it's believed that fully forgotten#dead leave the celestial fields and can no longer directly intercede with the living- though with some additional nuances to what#constitutes being fully forgotten)#Venerating and remembering the dead is a huge focus of cultural practice and additional methods are used to safeguard#ancestors (and other honored dead without descendants) whose names have been forgotten. There's one yearly holiday focused entirely on#the nameless dead where they are invoked and honored via little straw dolls that are burnt in bonfires high in the mountains so the#smoke is sent up to the Fields. It takes weeks of preparation and tens (maybe hundreds idk I'm bad with scale) of thousands of#dolls will be made each year across the Highlands for this purpose. Honoring them with effigy even without name is usually#considered enough to safeguard their afterlife for at least another year.#Also yeah kinship systems among the Hill Tribes (and very similarly among the Finns) follow a male line/female line system#Only father's father's fathers (...) and mother's mother's mothers (...) are considered direct ancestors (though all four grandparents#are sometimes honored as ancestors even if only two are considered DIRECT ancestral kin- this tradition varies)#Inheritance systems are somewhat matrilineal given that a wife is considered the owner and arbiter of property and a husband is#its protector and active manager. If a man and woman from different clans (or tribes) marry any children will be considered to be of#the clan/tribe of whichever spouse does NOT relocate in marriage.#Whether the husband moves in with the wife or the wife moves in with the husband is dependent on an arbitration process#and the husband (and his family) being able to provide a bride price (which is somewhat of a payment for the land/property#the wife's mother will be passing down to the new husband's management should he move in- and displays his ability to care#for and provide valued assets. A man who can provide a bride price tends to receive greater respect)#This is most commonly going to be livestock (and almost ubiquitously includes a single cattle to be butchered for the wedding feast)#But can include other valuables or assets like land or grain/seeds or etc. There is no intra-Highlands monetary system and the internal#economy is built on trade. So Imperial Wardi currency is mostly useless but is sometimes given in marriages between clans with strong
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bro I need the rheumatologist the doctor I’m seeing allegedly referred to me immediately. If I have to go on living like this I might actually kms lol
#going to stand at work for eight hours while my legs feel like they’re on fire 👍#fully aware I’ll spend my day off tomorrow laying in bed and suffering instead of enjoying my 20s like I should be 👍#love my life :)#genuinely. how do I go about living my life like this#I just spent the last 5 years working toward a degree I can’t even use bc my body can’t physically handle field work#like I rly did try with field work this summer. but I spent all of august suffering and pretending I wasn’t <33#but now I’m completely unemployable outside of custome service bc I have a useless degree#for anything but archaeology/anthro#and I also don’t do anything outside of work bc I physically can’t handle it. like I need to spend my time off of work recovering from work#I have no life and I rly don’t know if I have a future lol#but whatever#it is what it is ig#op
3 notes
·
View notes
Note
How can you consider yourself any sort of leftist when you defend AI art bullshit? You literally simp for AI techbros and have the gall to pretend you're against big corporations?? Get fucked
I don't "defend" AI art. I think a particular old post of mine that a lot of people tend to read in bad faith must be making the rounds again lmao.
Took me a good while to reply to this because you know what? I decided to make something positive out of this and use this as an opportunity to outline what I ACTUALLY believe about AI art. If anyone seeing this decides to read it in good or bad faith... Welp, your choice I guess.
I have several criticisms of the way the proliferation of AI art generators and LLMs is making a lot of things worse. Some of these are things I have voiced in the past, some of these are things I haven't until now:
Most image and text AI generators are fine-tuned to produce nothing but the most agreeable, generically pretty content slop, pretty much immediately squandering their potential to be used as genuinely interesting artistic tools with anything to offer in terms of a unique aesthetic experience (AI video still manages to look bizarre and interesting but it's getting there too)
In the entertainment industry and a lot of other fields, AI image generation is getting incorporated into production pipelines in ways that lead to the immiseration of working artists, being used to justify either lower wages or straight-up layoffs, and this is something that needs to be fought against. That's why I unconditionally supported the SAG-AFTRA strikes last year and will unconditionally support any collective action to address AI art as a concrete labor issue
In most fields where it's being integrated, AI art is vastly inferior to human artists in any use case where you need anything other than to make a superficially pretty picture really fast. If you need to do anything like ask for revisions or minor corrections, give very specific descriptions of how objects and people are interacting with each other, or just like. generate several pictures of the same thing and have them stay consistent with each other, you NEED human artists and it's preposterous to think they can be replaced by AI.
There is a lot of art on the internet that consists of the most generically pretty, cookie-cutter anime waifu-adjacent slop that has zero artistic or emotional value to either the people seeing it or the person churning it out, and while this certainly was A Thing before the advent of AI art generators, generative AI has made it extremely easy to become the kind of person who churns it out and floods online art spaces with it.
Similarly, LLMs make it extremely easy to generate massive volumes of texts, pages, articles, listicles and what have you that are generic vapid SEO-friendly pap at best and bizzarre nonsense misinformation at worst, drowning useful information in a sea of vapid noise and rendering internet searches increasingly useless.
The way LLMs are being incorporated into customer service and similar services not only, again, encourages further immiseration of customer service workers, but it's also completely useless for most customers.
A very annoyingly vocal part the population of AI art enthusiasts, fanatics and promoters do tend to talk about it in a way that directly or indirectly demeans the merit and skill of human artists and implies that they think of anyone who sees anything worthwile in the process of creation itself rather than the end product as stupid or deluded.
So you can probably tell by now that I don't hold AI art or writing in very high regard. However (and here's the part that'll get me called an AI techbro, or get people telling me that I'm just jealous of REAL artists because I lack the drive to create art of my own, or whatever else) I do have some criticisms of the way people have been responding to it, and have voiced such criticisms in the past.
I think a lot of the opposition to AI art has critstallized around unexamined gut reactions, whipping up a moral panic, and pressure to outwardly display an acceptable level of disdain for it. And in particular I think this climate has made a lot of people very prone to either uncritically entertain and adopt regressive ideas about Intellectual Propety, OR reveal previously held regressive ideas about Intellectual Property that are now suddenly more socially acceptable to express:
(I wanna preface this section by stating that I'm a staunch intellectual property abolitionist for the same reason I'm a private property abolitionist. If you think the existence of intellectual property is a good thing, a lot of my ideas about a lot of stuff are gonna be unpalatable to you. Not much I can do about it.)
A lot of people are suddenly throwing their support behind any proposal that promises stricter copyright regulations to combat AI art, when a lot of these also have the potential to severely udnermine fair use laws and fuck over a lot of independent artist for the benefit of big companies.
It was very worrying to see a lot of fanfic authors in particular clap for the George R R Martin OpenAI lawsuit because well... a lot of them don't realize that fanfic is a hobby that's in a position that's VERY legally precarious at best, that legally speaking using someone else's characters in your fanfic is as much of a violation of copyright law as straight up stealing entire passages, and that any regulation that can be used against the latter can be extended against the former.
Similarly, a lot of artists were cheering for the lawsuit against AI art models trained to mimic the style of specific artists. Which I agree is an extremely scummy thing to do (just like a human artist making a living from ripping off someone else's work is also extremely scummy), but I don't think every scummy act necessarily needs to be punishable by law, and some of them would in fact leave people worse off if they were. All this to say: If you are an artist, and ESPECIALLY a fan artist, trust me. You DON'T wanna live in a world where there's precedent for people's artstyles to be considered intellectual property in any legally enforceable way. I know you wanna hurt AI art people but this is one avenue that's not worth it.
Especially worrying to me as an indie musician has been to see people mention the strict copyright laws of the music industry as a positive thing that they wanna emulate. "this would never happen in the music industry because they value their artists copyright" idk maybe this is a the grass is greener type of situation but I'm telling you, you DON'T wanna live in a world where copyright law in the visual arts world works the way it does in the music industry. It's not worth it.
I've seen at least one person compare AI art model training to music sampling and say "there's a reason why they cracked down on sampling" as if the death of sampling due to stricter copyright laws was a good thing and not literally one of the worst things to happen in the history of music which nearly destroyed several primarily black music genres. Of course this is anecdotal because it's just One Guy I Saw Once, but you can see what I mean about how uncritical support for copyright law as a tool against AI can lead people to adopt increasingly regressive ideas about copyright.
Similarly, I've seen at least one person go "you know what? Collages should be considered art theft too, fuck you" over an argument where someone else compared AI art to collages. Again, same point as above.
Similarly, I take issue with the way a lot of people seem EXTREMELY personally invested in proving AI art is Not Real Art. I not only find this discussion unproductive, but also similarly dangerously prone to validating very reactionary ideas about The Nature Of Art that shouldn't really be entertained. Also it's a discussion rife with intellectual dishonesty and unevenly applied definition and standards.
When a lot of people present the argument of AI art not being art because the definition of art is this and that, they try to pretend that this is the definition of art the've always operated under and believed in, even when a lot of the time it's blatantly obvious that they're constructing their definition on the spot and deliberately trying to do so in such a way that it doesn't include AI art.
They never succeed at it, btw. I've seen several dozen different "AI art isn't art because art is [definition]". I've seen exactly zero of those where trying to seriously apply that definition in any context outside of trying to prove AI art isn't art doesn't end up in it accidentally excluding one or more non-AI artforms, usually reflecting the author's blindspots with regard to the different forms of artistic expression.
(However, this is moot because, again, these are rarely definitions that these people actually believe in or adhere to outside of trying to win "Is AI art real art?" discussions.)
Especially worrying when the definition they construct is built around stuff like Effort or Skill or Dedication or The Divine Human Spirit. You would not be happy about the kinds of art that have traditionally been excluded from Real Art using similar definitions.
Seriously when everyone was celebrating that the Catholic Church came out to say AI art isn't real art and sharing it as if it was validating and not Extremely Worrying that the arguments they'd been using against AI art sounded nearly identical to things TradCaths believe I was like. Well alright :T You can make all the "I never thought I'd die fighting side by side with a catholic" legolas and gimli memes you want, but it won't change the fact that the argument being made by the catholic church was a profoundly conservative one and nearly identical to arguments used to dismiss the artistic merit of certain forms of "degenerate" art and everyone was just uncritically sharing it, completely unconcerned with what kind of worldview they were lending validity to by sharing it.
Remember when the discourse about the Gay Sex cats pic was going on? One of the things I remember the most from that time was when someone went "Tell me a definition of art that excludes this picture without also excluding Fountain by Duchamp" and how just. Literally no one was able to do it. A LOT of people tried to argue some variation of "Well, Fountain is art and this image isn't because what turns fountain into art is Intent. Duchamp's choice to show a urinal at an art gallery as if it was art confers it an element of artistic intent that this image lacks" when like. Didn't by that same logic OP's choice to post the image on tumblr as if it was art also confer it artistic intent in the same way? Didn't that argument actually kinda end up accidentally validating the artistic status of every piece of AI art ever posted on social media? That moment it clicked for me that a lot of these definitions require applying certain concepts extremely selectively in order to make sense for the people using them.
A lot of people also try to argue it isn't Real Art based on the fact that most AI art is vapid but like. If being vapid definitionally excludes something from being art you're going to have to exclude a whooole lot of stuff along with it. AI art is vapid. A lot of art is too, I don't think this argument works either.
Like, look, I'm not really invested in trying to argue in favor of The Artistic Merits of AI art but I also find it extremely hard to ignore how trying to categorically define AI art as Not Real Art not only is unproductive but also requires either a) applying certain parts of your definition of art extremely selectively, b) constructing a definition of art so convoluted and full of weird caveats as to be functionally useless, or c) validating extremely reactionary conservative ideas about what Real Art is.
Some stray thoughts that don't fit any of the above sections.
I've occassionally seen people respond to AI art being used for shitposts like "A lot of people have affordable commissions, you could have paid someone like $30 to draw this for you instead of using the plagiarism algorithm and exploiting the work of real artists" and sorry but if you consider paying an artist a rate that amounts to like $5 for several hours of work a LESS exploitative alternative I think you've got something fucked up going on with your priorities.
Also it's kinda funny when people comment on the aforementioned shitposts with some variation of "see, the usage of AI art robs it of all humor because the thing that makes shitposts funny is when you consider the fact that someone would spend so much time and effort in something so stupid" because like. Yeah that is part of the humor SOMETIMES but also people share and laugh at low effort shitposts all the time. Again you're constructing a definition that you don't actually believe in anywhere outside of this type of conversations. Just say you don't like that it's AI art because you think it's morally wrong and stop being disingenuous.
So yeah, this is pretty much everything I believe about the topic.
I don't "defend" AI art, but my opposition to it is firmly rooted in my principles, and that means I refuse to uncritically accept any anti-AI art argument that goes against those same principles.
If you think not accepting and parroting every Anti-AI art argument I encounter because some of them are ideologically rooted in things I disagree with makes me indistinguishable from "AI techbros" you're working under a fucked up dichotomy.
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
A hug for a precious teammate
A hug for a precious teammate
malereader x Jiyan, fluff;
i already have an idea for a longer post ("normal" 4 my acc) but for now just a quick short. Jiyan can be a little out of character
He stood alone in the middle of a field, surrounded by emortia flowers. His green robes blew gently on the wind. With his back turned to you, he looked into a distance. Onto a horizon where an outline of Jinzhou city painted itself.
You approached him at a distance of few steps.
-I knew I would find you here.
Hearing your voice, chills went through Jiyan. But not the unpleasant ones, rather those of excitement.
He turned his head back, looking at you over his shoulder. Warm rays of setting sun gushed on both sides of his face, trying to escape past his figure. As a result, his face shimmered with a bright, yellowish glow of light. Messy strands of his hair (which, as always, managed to break out from not-so-perfect ponytail) flew in all directions. His facial expression represented surprise. You saw him taking a sudden gasp of breath after a spin. Yet, at sight of you, corners of his lips lifted slightly upward.
Even though an image in front of you was breathtaking, you put your focus on his eyes. They showed so many emotions. Sadness, grief, suffering. But also some sort of gratitude and relief.
A desire for touch, for warmth of another person.
You involuntarily spread your arms in an inviting gesture. And Jiyan instantly spun on his heel.
It took just a seconds. Jiyan immediately seized an opportunity. He ran into your embrace.
Before you had time to realize, your body was being squeezed tightly by a man's strong arms.
You looked down. Jiyan was stubbornly snuggling his head into your chest, avoiding eye contact.
-I'm sorry. I should be there with you.
You said with a genuine remorse. Now you deeply regretted not accompanying him today.
You knew that returning to the past by experiencing Riverside Games could be painful for your man. However, you hoped that if you let him go alone, he wouldn't be limited to only your company. And that he might be able to reintegrate with other rangers. On a different level -not only restricted to work and duties. Besides, this wasn't your festival.
That's why you decided to go to work.
However, after that decision, for a few good hours, you suffered with great guilt. You couldn't concentrate on your job. Especially after you found out that the festival got suspended. You were unable to complete any task properly. You were basically useless. To the point where your supervisor - Mortefi ordered you to leave.
Jiyan rapidly shook his head in denial. He didn't loosen his grip even slightly. You were slowly running out of breath. But you knew it was the only thing you could do for him at that moment.
-I planted a seed - he said quietly, slowly choosing his words - With Rover
-But I want to plant one with you as well - he added quickly, this time lifting his face up and looking directly into your eyes.
His golden orbs sparkled slightly with hope. Somehow like with an anticipation of approval.
-I know I know -you changed your voice to as calm and tenderful as possible- We are gonna do this
You placed your hands gently on his back and slowly began to make a circles on them. Trying as much as possible to soothe his nerves after today's events.
Jiyan dropped his head again and tightened his grip more. Even though, a second before you hardly believed that it was possible.
However, that gesture did awaken you. You looked around. And your eyes caught a glimpse of midnight rangers. Standing in the distance, guarding Knell Square. They weren't looking in your direction, not paying attention to you at all. Whether out of respect or ignorance.
But still, if this were to change, you had to do something.
Jiyan wouldn't want anyone to see him in such state. Especially his subordinates, to whom, as a general, he looked like a pure perfection. An example of someone unbreakable and with an unbelievable courage.
You were the first and last one to whom he deliberately showed his vulnerable side.
It wasn't often, because he mostly tried to play tough. Even outside of work, he felt a sense of responsibility. Though in this case, for the two of you. For your prosperity and well-being.
That just how his character was.
Sometimes, however, emotions took over him. Just like now. And Jiyan allowed himself to seek for a support in your presence.
With your right hand, you delicately grabbed his jaw and lifted his head up. His eyes were no longer glowing with ordinary sparkle. Shine came from a liquid that had accumulated inside them. Tears that he struggled hard to not let out.
-But we will get home first, okay?
Jiyan nodded and you leaned down to lovingly kiss his other cheek.
-Let's go - you said, moving away from him slightly and secondly putting one arm around his waist.
Jiyan tiredly laid his head on your shoulder and let you lead the way to your house. To your safe space.
#fanfic#fanfiction#scenarios#tmr#x reader#x male reader#wuthering waves#wuthering waves x male reader#wuthering waves x reader#x top male reader#jiyan#wuthering waves imagines#jiyan wuthering waves#jiyan x reader#jiyan x male reader#mxm#wuwa jiyan#top male reader#male reader
411 notes
·
View notes
Text
an update from me :)
hey everyone, i know i haven’t been very active on here lately. and the reason is because a lot of things in my life have changed. i’ve been debating even sharing this but i feel like i’m in a good enough position to be okay with sharing it.
so these past two years, i had been super active on here (late 2022- early 24) and that was because, well, I didn’t really have anything else. that’s because I had graduated in 2022 and then i just couldn’t find a job in my field. like so many other recent graduates, it was just so hard and tough and it really made me lose all faith in myself.
i found myself to be in the worst mental state i had ever been. I cut myself off from my friends, felt like a burden towards my family, was having meltdowns and panic attacks almost daily, even started eating unhealthily and was just overall in a very bad place.
HOWEVER, i always felt like I could come on tumblr and that’s why i was so active and writing all these stories because honestly, they were almost like a crutch to me. like the ONE thing i had to look forward to in life during those times was the feedback I’d get when i posted a fic, and honestly it’s what kept me going. like i swear to god, on some days this blog and community was the only thing that i had to look forward to and keep me going, and writing felt like such a huge escape.
because i felt so USELESS. like i was wasting my life and not making any money or being able to kickstart my career after uni, and that it would be like this forever, so when I was writing it actually felt like I was doing something with a purpose. honestly on some days I would literally wake up early and go sit in Starbucks all day just writing my fics like i was cosplaying working or something just so I’d have a purpose. (I don’t go to Starbucks anymore lol boycott)
anyways, i never shared this on tumblr these past few years bc you guys don’t understand what a failure i felt like. i would sometimes get asks on here asking what i did for a job and I’d feel so embarrassed of my current state of being unable to find a job when it felt like everyone else who had graduated with me had one and obtained one so easily. like i felt ASHAMED.
i remember once i got an ask asking what my job was and I just said “fashion marketing” bc that was one of the things i wanted to do and id done an internship in that field so i just put that but it was a LIE i was unemployed and the most depressed ive been in my whole life but I thought maybe i could manifest it.
ANYWAYS, and you’ve probably already guessed it, but the reason I’m not so active anymore is because I did eventually find a job. a really good one that I’m enjoying so much and I’m so happy at. Finally, I’m feeling like myself again, like I’m living that life in London as a twenty something that I’d see everyone on tiktok living!! Like I’m finally just having fun, going out with friends, being active, having money to spend on fun things etc.
and it feels so surreal and crazy because when i was depressed and jobless, it made me doubt myself so much. Like the constant rejections and failed interviews made me doubt myself and lowered my self esteem so much and I thought I’d NEVER achieve this life that i have now! And I don’t want to jinx it but I literally thank God every day for finally granting me this because I really feel like I would’ve gotten worse and worse and IDEK.
But back to the main point, and so because of my new job I just don’t have that much time for tumblr anymore. But this isn’t a goodbye post… not at all! I find that when I’m super busy in life is also when I get the most motivated to write! Like for example in summer 2022 I was on here so much and that was the summer I had the most fun, was the most busy. I think when I’m busy in life, I get motivated to write.
Which I believe is the case right now, because I’m SO motivated to complete all my stories, I keep thinking about them and writing them slowly, so please don’t think anything is abandoned! I just wanted to make this post to be more transparent about what’s been going on in my life and what had been going on these past two years. That maybe someone else going through something similar can see that eventually, everything does work out.
Anddd I don’t really know how to end this. I just want to say, yall don’t understand just how thankful I am for having this blog, this platform, to write my stories. For having you guys. Because who knows how much worse my mental state would’ve been these past two years when I didn’t have ANYTHING else going for me, if I hadn’t had this blog it would’ve been so much worse.
Thank you so much for believing in me and enjoying my stories and always always letting me know how much you enjoy them. And I’ll say the truth; I know everyone says that engagement on tumblr has been bad lately but I can say that bc of you guys I have literally never EVER had this issue. And that’s not me being big headed, that’s just the truth and it makes me so happy and grateful. Yall always came through for me and still do now! Every time I think my fic is going to flop, you guys come through for me. I appreciate it so much. You guys have no idea how much you helped me when I was at my lowest. And continue to.
Many thanks
Me 🩷🩷🫶🏼🫶🏼
228 notes
·
View notes
Text
@cookiemonsterv3 you’ve asked about the lore NO TURNING BACK
Cody writes each of his sheep’s names in sharpie on their ear tags so he can identify them and calls the tags their “stylish earrings”. He claims he doesn’t have any favourites, but he has a soft spot for Ewe-Anne McGregor (a play on his favourite actor’s name) and Woolly (a runt that he nursed back to health with the help of his little brother, Wooley, who cried so hard when she was born and refused to leave her side until she was better)
Happy (belated) @codywanweek to all who celebrate!!
Here’s my very late submission for Day 7: Rural Jobs featuring sheep farmer Cody, wheat farmer Obi-Wan, and Cody’s sandwich stealing sheepdog, Boga
+ close ups under the cut!
#I have more#about Boga#and her shenanigans#she keeps bolting out of Cody’s hands and running under the fence into Obi-Wan’s fields#in the hopes of being given (stealing) Obi-Wan’s lunch#every time Obi-Wan gets out of the cab when he’s planting she’s there begging for some bologna#and he’s a sucker so he just forks it over#also I have thoughts about Wolffe and Fox#as herding dog and livestock guardian dog breeders/ trainers#also also#Obi-Wan sees Cody at the county fair shearing sheep and showing his dogs#and Obi-Wan is completely useless about it#thank you for coming to my ted talk
213 notes
·
View notes
Note
Do you mind making a fanfic where König slowly falls in love with the reader that's the team medic. And can it be smut towards the end that's more vanilla than rough?
Hiii! Thank you for the request. Also sent back in November. I always get carried away with these. CW; alcohol consumption but over all its very tame and a little fluffy :)
Working for Kortac wasn't always easy but it sure was awarding. Being the team medic/doctor had its perks. You mostly worked on base, or different outposts. You rarely experienced field work, but you weren't completely useless. The rest of the team wouldn't allow it, specially the Colonel.
You train with them, eat with them, shower with them, cause you are one of them.
As well as going out after a successful mission, when everyone is preparing for there leave. A nice hooray before a break.
You've been with Kortac for little over a year now, you made friendships with almost everyone. The Lifesaver they call you, out of respect and also taking the piss. Getting a nickname meant you were really family.
You don't talk about your personal life, no one does and no one asks questions. But it's not like you want to talk about your failures and joining the military was you lose ditch effort to pursue your dreams. Working in the hospital wasn't ideal anymore, the mundane day after day was draining you. And your tremors destroyed your opportunity to your goal as a board certified surgeon.
Wearing your civvy clothes, nothing special. Your favorite pair of jeans, a simple top and chunky boots. It's a tad chilly so you threw a warm leather jacket over it to tie it all in. Taking a cab with Roze to the local bar. Chatting about plans and wants. Roze using her leave to go climb a mountain. Telling her you wish you had her ambition and discipline. And her telling you that she could teach you some time.
The cab stopped in front of the bar, a fairly busy night. A small group of people were gathered around chatting and smoking cigarettes. Some of them you recognize as your teammates, and the Colonel. He made you dizzy, every time your eyes find him every cell in your body buzzes. Like flies to a street lamp.
Like a million butterflies in your tummy, beating against the inside tying to break out. You waving back to the ones that waved to you, making your way into the bustling bar. Leading the way to the bar, Roze close behind.
"We should find a both, I'm not being stuck at a fucking table." Roze gritted into your ear, remembering the last time you two went out with the boys. "Go find one I'll order our drinks. The usual?" you offered. She gave you a big smile and squeeze to your upper arm. "You are a doll, do you know that?" she yelled as she made her way through the crowd.
You finally flagged down the busy bartender, ordering Roze her vodka soda and your old fashion. Looking out into the crowd trying to find the others. Spotting them at a big booth in the back, a big screen rght above playing some sort of football game.
With a loud clink the bartender dropped the drinks in front, snatching the change out of your hand before turning away to help another. Carefully making your way through the crowd to the others, watching has Roze and Hutch lively convo. Setting the drink down before sliding it over to Roze who mouthed a silent thank you to you.
You slid into the other end of the both the faced out towards the bar, right up to a very tired looking Oni who looked unintereseted in whatever Horangi was saying. "What's up cool cat." he cooed to you, his big arm snaking around to give you a tight hug. "Getting drunk." you cheered raising your drink, the two cheering in agreement as they clinked their glass against eachother.
"Room for one more?" his thick deep accent purred for behind you. Colonel König sliding in beside you, taking up the rest of the both. Causing you to shift over to Oni to your right. "You smell like shit." Horangi exclaimed, raising his glass towards König. Causing the giant to bark with laughter, raising his pint towards the Korean. Causing some to slosh to the side and drip in front of you.
Indistinctively making you jump back to not get any of the stinky lager to get on you. "Sorry about the doll." his rumbling voice reached your ears. Making you blush and say "It's all good sir." taking a big gulp of your drink. Shrinking back as the others talked, stopping once in a while to include you.
König's leg brushing up against yours every now and than. If you were any the wiser you'd think he was doing it on purpose. Downing the last of your drink you plopped it on the solid table with a clank. König eyeing the empty glass while he finished his own. Kindly taking it with him as he went to get another fill.
Roze gave you an odd look from across the table, you just shrugged it off. She's been trying to convince you that the Austrian has been pinning for you. You brush it off as him being kind, but he's never that kind. Small things like bringing you things he found that reminded you of him. Small like trinkets and tchotchkes, either hand delivering them himself or leaving at your door.
Always being the first on the team, even before the muscle. Having first pick over any new recruits, a small luxury. Like you said, he's just kind. And very straight forward and to the point. A confident and cocky man, that knows what he wants and always gets it. And it's definitely not you.
It wasn't long until the Colonel returned with his drink and yours, setting down a colorful fruity drink in front of you. Causing a laugh from the others, but you just blinked at it. "I think this is yours." as you shifted it across the table to Hutch. Who gladly took the free drink cause booze is booze baby. "Aw Koni pal, you shouldn't have." he nearly had it to his lips before König thick hand grabbing Hutch's wrist, giving it a light squeeze before saying "It's not yours." in his husky accent. Bringing it back to you, holding it out. "Do you not like?" he asked curiously.
You weren't sure what was happening, was this some joke that you just didn't understand. "No." you said flatly, eyeing Roze for some help but she just eagerly gulped down her own ignoring you. "Can you excuse me." as you brushed passed the giant now looking at the drink in confusion.
Going to the bar you ordered two shots of the strongest liquor they had. Taking them down like a champ you asked for another old fashion. Feeling a warm hard body brush up next to you, seeing the Colonel standing beside you with that stupid drink still in his hand.
"I'm sorry Katze, I thought you would like." he started to explain. The bartender interrupting to give you your whiskey, taking a quick sip before König moved the drink so it was next to you. "It reminds me of you, that's all." he finished. You snorted into your glass and nearly choked on the smooth amber. Huffing out a coughing laugh.
"I'm sorry sir, but how does that remind you of me?" you giggled, finally feeling the alcohol settle into your worn bones.
"It's colorful like you." he said confidently and also confused at how you dont see it. "I'm colorful?" you asked, taking the drink from his hand. Your fingers lightly brushing against his, bringing the liquid to your nose before downing the whole thing in one try. And setting it back into his hand that remained in place.
König eyes widened at your bold display, a fire burning into them as he watched you lips grip the rim of the curved glass. The way your necked bobbed as you swallowed the sweet liquid. The fire burning a path straight to his pants. Feeling himself grow to life and strain against the front zipper.
"It's nice to see you like this sir." you blurted out and immediately regretting it. Ok, last drink and your leaving, you scolded yourself. "What do you mean?" his curosity peeked. You waved his answer away, getting embarssed by your loose lips. "Dont get shy on me now." he pushed. Moving hs big body into yours more, pining you to the bar stool.
"It's just, your so human." you whispered. A little nervous to his reacton, but instead he leaned his head back and barked out a laugh. Causing people around to jump at the sudden loud sound. A few moving away from the big man.
"That was a good one Katze." he leaned further down to your face. "I like seeing you like this." his hand slowly running from your wrist to your neck, holding it in place. "Like what sir?" you mummured, eyeing his lips as they moved closer to your own. "Flustered." he breathed into your mouth, closing the gap and kissing you deeply. His hand moving to the back of your head to keep you in place. Your lungs seizing to produce air as you felt his soft lips move against yours.
He pulled away slowly, moving his hand to your face, running his thumb over your bottom lip. Your lungs screamed, finally sucking in a deep breath. You could feel the heat rise to your face, you must look like a tomato right now.
"So damn cute." he continued, looking away from you to your abandoned drink at the bar. "Are you done?" he questioned. You were buzzing, almost right out of your skin. So light headed all you could do his shake your head yes. König took that as his sign to make a move, so he lead you out of the bar into the cold night.
"This way doll." as he pulled you to the direction of the quiet street, you could spot the bmw shining under the moon light. "I'll drive us back." he reached the passenger door, holding it open for you as you climbed in. Closing it softly as he jogged to the drivers side, climbing in and the car roared to life.
The drive back to the base passed in a flash, König nearly dragging you through the building towards his own room. His high status warrants his own private quarters. A small living and dining area, followed by his bedroom and attached bathroom. He unlocked the door with haste and pulled you in. Spinning you around so you were pushed against the back of the door.
His strong body on yours, you heard the click of the lock slide into place. König lips once again on yours, nipping and sucking. Making a trail down your neck, pulling the zipper of your jacket down and off your arms. Tossing it towards his table, his hands finding your ass and hauling you up. You legs mindlessly wrapping around his waist, tugging him into your core more. Earning a low moan, vibrating from his chest.
He yanked at the collar of your shirt, a clean tear running down the front exposing your breast to his mouth. Pulling a yelp from you as he nipped at the sensitive skin. He turned you both around and towards his room, kicking the door open and dropping you on the bed.
"Sir-" you tried to let out but König's lips swallowed your words. "Shhh, baby. Let me make you feel good. Ja." he whispered into your mouth, making you melt into the bed. All you could do was shake your head has you fully leaned back, closing your eyes.
König made good with your clothes, leaving you only in your panties. You watched has he removed his shirt and shoved his jean and brief's to the floor, kicking them away as he climbed back on and slotted himself between your thighs.
Pining your spread knees to your stomach, rubbing his face against your clothed core. His big nose carding its self along your slit, building pressure against your clit. Pulling moans from you, throwing your head back.
König took his time, running his face up and down your thighs. Kissing from your ankle to your inner thigh, over your soaking core, and down the other leg. Licking path across your skin and blowing on the wetness, goosebumps spreading across your body.
Pulling your hard buds into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and sucking. His teeth grazing on the sensitive nipple and lightly nipping. Relishing in the noises hes drawing from you. Humming in approval, slowly pulling down your panties and letting them get lost on the bed.
His fingers find your center, the thick heavy digits ghosting up and down. Gathering the wetness that pushed through, pressing his wide thumb right against your clit. Making you buck into his hand more, König's mouth still on your tits.
He worked his thick middle finger into you, slowly opening you for him. Working knuckle by knuckle, whispering praises into your ear. Pushing another finger into you, making you whimper at the stretch.
"Ko, please." you pleaded with him, feeling his low chuckle. His hot mouth against your ear, cooing "Patience love." as his fingers pump in and out of you. Feeling your slick slide down your ass and onto the sheets.
Whining at the loss of his fingers, but feeling the head of his dick running up and down. Collecting your wetness and spreading it over him before the tip catches you needy hole. Snapping his hips fowards ripped a cry from your throat. Your legs clamping around him and tightening.
"Shh, shhh. Quiet now pretty girl. I'm sorry, I'll be more carefully." and he kept true to his word. His cock slowly stretching you open, your warm folds inviting him in. Squeezing and pulsing around him, König cherished every moment.
Sensually thrusting in and out, lazily rolling his hips. Making sure he pulls orgasm after orgasm from your body.
Not stopping until your begging and pleading with him. Incoherently going on about it being too much, too sensitive.
König could lose himself in you, deeper and deeper. Holding back to not scare you. Wanting to make it all about his sweet little medic. The moment he laid eyes on you he was hooked. Those sweet eyes and kind smile, how quick and smart you were. Such a soft thing, you shouldn't be in this line of field.
Finally letting himself go, he buried himself deeper. Releasing pressed right up against your cervix, shoveling as much as he could to your core. Letting out one last guttural moan as he collapsed onto you, only rolling over when you started banging against his back. Taking you with you, you settled on his chest.
König laid out completely satisfied, head back and eyes closed. He could feel you staring at him.
"Sleep" he commanded. Hearing your giggle as you continued to stare.
#cod mw2#könig#konig#könig mw2#konig mw2#konig cod#könig cod#konig x reader#konig x you#könig x reader#könig x you#könig call of duty#cod könig#cod konig#könig x fem reader
381 notes
·
View notes
Text
Love To Watch You Leave: Part 2
Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader
Warnings: Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Swearing, Fluff, Angst, Bullying, Eventual Smut, Grieving, Pining, Alcohol, Military Inaccuracies
- Part 1 Here -
——————————
18+ Only
——————————
You were quickly growing frustrated with the lack of jobs available in your field. You had really thought studying Meteorology would make the work come running to you, but you were so wrong.
Every employer asked for experience, always damn experience. How were you meant to gain experience if nobody was willing to take you on?
You were also extremely frustrated by the fact that Bradley was now home, all the time. Being back from deployment meant he didn’t have an awful lot to do, so he spent a lot of time tending to the front yard.
You also preferred to spend time on the front porch, so it became hard to avoid him, but you were stubborn enough not to let him scare you indoors.
You sat scrolling through job ads on your phone one day, feet tucked under you as you swung on the hanging bench, when you noticed your nemesis walking towards your house.
“What do you want?” You mumbled, not looking up from your phone.
“Got any bandaids?” He asked.
Your eyes were still glued to your phone, “Why? You got a splinter?” You looked up fully prepared to roll your eyes at some tiny little scratch he had, but his injury was far more severe. “Oh my god!” You squirmed, “What the fuck Bradshaw, how did you manage that?”
Bradley’s hand was covered in blood, a deep gash in the side of his finger. “It’s not that bad, the lawnmower was being temperamental.” He did look a little woozy despite his nonchalant words.
“So you thought you’d stick your fingers inside? Real smart. Go inside, I’ll get some bandages.” You directed him indoors with the point of a finger.
“Just get your mom, I trust her way more around my open wounds, you’d probably just cut me more.” He joked, moving to hold his hand over the kitchen sink.
“She’s not home, but if you’d prefer I’d be happy to just let you bleed out?”
Bradley breathed deeply through his nose and let out a loud sigh, “No, fine, you can do it.”
You quirked an eyebrow at him, “Uh… no. Ask nicely.”
“What?” He snapped at you, “Please tell me you are kidding right now? I’m bleeding, Y/N!”
You crossed your arms, “And I’m more than fine letting you die in my kitchen. Ask nicely.”
Bradley groaned and rolled his eyes, “Fine. Please, please could you help me not die?”
You grinned and walked up to him, turning on the tap and running the water over his finger. Once the blood washed away, you were relieved to see the cut wasn’t nearly as bad as you’d originally thought, so you grabbed some bandaids from the cupboard.
“Sit here.” You instructed, patting the top of the counter. Bradley did as instructed and you held his hand up to your face as you gently dried it.
“Hold still.” You mumbled as you concentrated on sticking a bandaid in the right place, followed by a second to hold it down for good measure.
“There, I saved your life. Don’t make me regret it.” You sighed, leaning against the opposite counter and crossing your arms.
“Hardly, but thanks anyway. Guess you’re not completely useless.” He was inspecting your handy work, his face still slightly pallid. “Still a waste of space though.”
“Seriously, fuck you. What did I ever do to make you such a dick to me?”
Bradley shrugged, some of his colour returning as he stood up right, his finger sticking out awkwardly and padded with the bandaids.
“You were just annoying.”
“So because I was an annoying kid you made it your mission to ruin my life?”
“I hardly ruined your life!” He retaliated, his voice raising a fraction.
“Not for lack of trying! You’ve always been horrible to me. I didn’t deserve it.” You turned and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Bradley to stand in the kitchen, dumbfounded. He couldn’t understand why you were so upset.
Eventually he followed you, “It was just some harmless fun, it’s what people do.” He said, coming to rest against the door frame as you picked your phone back up on the front porch and continued to scroll.
“Not normal people.” You mumbled.
Bradley sighed and rolled his eyes. “Ok fine, I guess I’m sorry for being a little mean to you, happy?”
You ignored him, sitting back down on the swinging bench. You kept scrolling through ads, growing quickly frustrated with the lack of work.
You grunted in annoyance, throwing your phone to the other end of the bench.
Bradley eyed you up, and then he looked towards your phone, suddenly curious. He walked over while you frowned out towards the street, your arms crossed.
“What is it?” He asked as he picked up your phone and sat down next to you, much to your dismay.
“Nothing, give that back.” You reached half heartedly for your phone, but Bradley held it out of reach as he read.
“You looking for work?” He knew you were, but you nodded anyway.
“Well…they’re hiring for a Junior Aerographer’s Mate at work. I can’t guarantee they’ll take you on, I mean… look at you.” He gestured towards your face, clearly thinking he was being funny, “but I can put in a good word for you.”
You screwed your face up in confusion, “Are you messing with me?”
“No, why would I?” He leaned back into the bench, making himself at home.
“You’re kidding? You’ve literally never done a nice thing for me once in your life, if anything you were actively trying to make my life hell, so how do I know this isn’t some kind of messed up prank?”
“Consider it a one off, because you helped me today.” He seemed serious, his body relaxed and no hint of a smile, so after a few seconds of inspecting his face, you nodded slowly.
“Okay… thank you.”
———————————
The next Monday, you went for your interview with the navy, Bradley had been true to his word and you were very surprised when your phone rang and a big bubbly booming voice on the other end invited you for an interview. He sounded jolly, too jolly, and at first you thought it was a prank, but much to your delight it was a real place and you had to go through quite a few security gates to get there.
You walked into the office waiting room, nervously smoothing out your skirt before sitting down on a bench and waiting patiently. A few agonising minutes later, another interviewee walked out of the little office and a tall, stocky, middle aged man walked out behind him in uniform.
He noticed you, and suddenly his face lit up and his arms lifted to welcome you. “Ah! Miss Y/L/N I take it? I’m Lieutenant Commander Harris, we spoke on the phone!”
You stood quickly and shook his big bear hand, “Yes! That’s me, thank you so much for inviting me today.”
You walked into his office and sat at a big wooden desk, your lack of a resumé sitting neatly next to your degree.
The interview went well despite this, and the man was happy with all of your answers. You discussed your schooling and why you wanted to get into Meteorology, you discussed the job role and starting salary and you were more than happy to take it on.
“Well, Miss Y/L/N, I think I speak for everyone when I say we’d be thrilled to have you on the team.” He grinned, standing and shaking your hand. “Now usually we’d review the applicants and do call backs, but it’s easy to see you will be the best one for the job. Can you start next week?”
You laughed with elation, you couldn’t believe it. “Yes, absolutely! Thank you so much, you won’t regret this!”
The man beamed down at you, “I’m sure we won’t, plus we were just happy to hear that Rooster found himself a little lady, finally! He was always so focused on work - which don’t get me wrong, is a good thing! But I was starting to think he’d never find someone.”
Your eyes went wide and you suddenly felt sick, “Huh?”
“I mean, your qualifications are impressive, but it’s no secret having a partner in the forces does help a bit.” He winked at you.
You didn’t know what to say, too scared to correct him in case your new job would be sent out the window with his dignity.
“Mhm.” You forced a smile, “it… certainly does help.”
You turned around and he showed you out of his office, still very jolly, and you quickly shook his hand once more, desperate to make your speedy exit.
“Thanks again.” You faked another smile.
“Say, before you go, are you busy this weekend?”
Suddenly, a little more excited and thinking he wanted you to start work a few days early, eager to prove yourself as more than just an extension of Bradley, you smiled and shook your head. “Not at all! No plans, what do you need?”
He chuckled heartily, “Fantastic! It’s my wife and I’s 30 year anniversary, you and your fella Bradshaw are invited, it would be great to get to know you before you start next Monday. We’ll make sure a room is set up for you two in the guest house, I’ll email you the details.”
And with that, he disappeared back into his office, and the fake smile fell from your face. “Oh fuck.”
—————————
As soon as you pulled up outside your house, you stormed up to Bradley’s front door and knocked loudly.
He must have been napping, as he eventually pulled the door open, rubbing his eyes groggily.
“What?” He hissed.
You pushed passed him and stood with your arms crossed in his little living room.
“Interview go well?” He grumbled, sitting down on his couch. You couldn’t help but eye up his tight grey sweatpants, wondering what they hid underneath. You quickly diverted your eyes to his face, trying to mentally shake the disturbing thoughts away.
“Yeah, it did actually.” Your voice did not display the level of happiness Bradley thought it would.
“Okaaaay? Why are you biting my head off then?”
“Because of the reason I got the damn interview in the first place.” You began to pace up and down the small room, biting at your nails.
Bradley looked at you like you had 3 heads, waiting for you to elaborate.
“You told them that we’re… dating.” You spat out.
Bradley looked taken aback, “Uh, no I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did. They only picked me out of everyone else because I’m Bradley Bradshaws ‘little lady’.” You huffed, frustration lacing your words through gritted teeth.
“First… no I didn’t. Second-“ he grinned widely, “Congrats on getting the job, kid.”
You rolled your eyes, “No, Brad, this is a disaster. They think we’re together! What did you say to them?”
“I just said that someone needed a job in Meteorology, and when they asked who, I said your name and that you’d ‘been in my life forever’ so I could vouch for you, they must have gotten the wrong idea that’s all. Did you correct him?” Bradley shrugged.
“Correct him? You’re kidding, and embarrass him? Lose the job to someone with more experience. I don’t think so. I figured they’d forget and I’d never see you anyway so it wouldn’t matter, but…” you cringed, your hands covering your face.
“What? What did you do?” Bradley stood from his seat, suddenly nervous for his career.
“He invited us to his anniversary celebrations this weekend… for a whole weekend, in the same room.” You groaned.
“And you accepted?! What is wrong with you?”
“He asked if I was busy and I said no, so I couldn’t backtrack!”
Bradley groaned as he paced the living room, “This is bad, Y/N. If he finds out you lied-“
“Me?! It was you who gave him the wrong impression!”
“-then my career is over. I can’t be seen as the guy who vouched for a liar!”
“Bradley! Look, I think we’re both at fault here. Maybe we should just go back and apologise and let him know there was some sort of misunderstanding. I’m sure we’ll all laugh about it and-“
“No! Lieutenant Commander Harris is not someone you want to embarrass, we’ll… we’ll just need to go and pretend… and stage a break up or something.”
“What if he fires me because I’m no longer your ‘little lady’ anymore?”
“God, Y/N, he’s not a monster, just get in his good books or something and you’ll be fine.” He huffed, his pacing slowing to a stop.
You thought for a moment, “Okay… we can’t stage a break up on the first day though, that’ll look suspicious, or just be rude if we ruin his anniversary dinner.”
Bradley nodded, “Ok, so we pretend all is fine the first night, then… what? Get into a huge argument? Say you cheated on me?”
“No way, I’m not gonna be the bad guy in this scenario.”
Bradley rolled his eyes, “Fine, I’ll be the bad guy then. You can catch me with another woman or something, I don’t care.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
But it would not be fine, it would be far from fine as you’d soon come to find out, the worst was yet to come.
—————————
“You’re joking though, aren’t you?”
“No, mom. My worst nightmare has come to life. An entire weekend sharing a room with Bradshaw. I think I might be sick.” You mock gagged as you washed dishes and your mom packed them away.
“You know-“ she laughed, “I’ve always sort of hoped you two would end up together. He’s a lovely boy.”
You screwed your face up in disgust, “Mom! He’s not a lovely boy, he’s the worst. You’d seriously want him as your son in law?”
She shrugged and gave you a look, “He’s better than that Connor you dated.”
“I don’t know about better, but you’re right that I have a shocking taste in men.” You groaned dramatically. “Eventually I’ll meet a nice guy, but for now I need to focus on work, and how to get through this godforsaken weekend.”
After the dishes you went to your bedroom to pack for the weekend ahead. You had a few nice outfits but they were far too matronly for an anniversary weekend at a posh beach house.
You dug around some more but eventually gave up.
“Mom! We need to go shopping!”
———————————
The next day you and your mom went shopping for a couple of outfits, you got coffees and spent the day walking from shop to shop. You were having more fun window shopping than anything else, but eventually your mom gasped and pulled you towards a shop window.
“Look! That’s the one, you have to get it!” She excitedly pointed at a stunning pale yellow satin dress, ankle length but backless with a cowl neck, and she dragged you into the shop.
“Don’t you think it’s… too much?” You asked awkwardly as you held it up to inspect it.
“Darling, nothing you wear is ever too much, you make everything elegant.” She mused.
You bought the dress for the first night, the main event, but for the second night, which was going to be considerably more relaxed, you settled for a simple but pretty black dress, which you planned to pair with white tennis shoes. After all, day two was break-up day, you needed comfy shoes to make the getaway if need be, even if it was a fake getaway.
Clothes purchased and feet hurting, you made your way home, and you groaned in frustration when you saw Bradley was sat waiting for you on your porch.
Your mom walked up first, “Hi sweetheart, what are you doing here?”
“Hey Elsie, I just need to have a word with Y/N about this weekend if that’s ok?” He looked somewhat serious, so your mom raised her eyebrows at you and then looked back at Bradley.
“Sure, I’ll be inside if either of you need me.” She smiled sweetly and squeezed his shoulder before disappearing with the shopping inside.
“What’s up Bradshaw?” You asked half heartedly.
“Uh… we kinda have a problem.” He stood slowly, his hands sliding into his front pockets sheepishly.
“What is it?” You asked, suddenly anxious.
“My ex is gonna be there this weekend, and… let’s just say she didn’t take it very well when we ended things, so I don’t think she’ll take kindly to you, ya know, being my new ‘girl’.”
You rolled your eyes, “Oh is that it? Jesus you made it seem like something really bad had happened. I’m not scared of some old ex girlfriend, Brad.”
Bradley shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his head.
“Yeah… but we kinda slept together a week ago.”
Oh.
Fuck. This weekend was about to become a whole lot more complicated.
—————————
- Part 3 Here -
#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw#rooster x you#top gun rooster#rooster bradshaw#rooster x reader#rooster top gun#rooster x y/n#miles teller x reader#miles teller#top gun maverick fanfiction#top gun maverick fic#top gun x reader#top gun fanfiction#top gun fandom#top gun maverick
96 notes
·
View notes
Text
More and more I see people questioning how the Blacks didn’t outright win and destroy the Greens in one go with all the advantages they had.
The answer is simple: The Greens were protected by plot armor.
GRRM gave the Blacks almost everything they could ask for (thereby favoring them):
1. The best allies (the Winter Wolves, the Lads, Cregan Stark, Jeyne Arryn, etc.)
2. The most Houses supporting Rhaenyra’s cause (53)
3. The largest territories (the North, the Vale and the Riverlands)
4. The largest and best fleet (commanded by the Velaryons)
5. The Velaryon fortune
6. The most dragons
Normally, with all these advantages, they should have won the war with their hands tied behind their backs. The Greens only had home-field advantage (King’s Landing) and Vhagar. That’s pretty much it.
But of course, GRRM wanted it to be a more balanced war, and despite giving the Blacks plenty of advantages, he protected the Greens so the story can actually take place.
1. There is just no way that Aegon the Usurper could have survived everything he endured (Rook’s Rest, and then battling with Baela etc.) In my opinion, he was one greenie who was definitely protected by plot armor.
2. Daemon using B&C to only kill one of Aegon’s heirs instead of eliminating everyone in that tower is also kind of plot armor for the Greens. There is no way that he wouldn’t have taken advantage to have everyone in that tower killed. It would have weakened the Greens considerably (not to mention that Alicent was the “brains” behind the operation).
3. Then you have Rhaenyra sparing Alicent after she took King’s Landing (the woman who bullied her as a child and stole her throne) for some dumb reason like “My father loved you so I am doing this for him”. Yeah right…With how much Rhaenyra hated the woman, she wouldn’t have hesitated to chop her head off.
4. For some reason, Rhaenyra decides to go to Dragonstone after the storming of the Dragonpit, instead of the Vale. Another plot convenience for the Greens. The Vale was obviously the best place to go. The Greens wouldn’t have been able to touch Rhaenyra there. The Arryns would have protected her and her child, until Cregan Stark arrived and dethroned the usurper. Happy ending, the end. But yeah, it’s Asoiaf. There are no happy endings, and GRRM had to give Rhaenyra a tragic end.
All in all, the Greens survived as long as they did because of plot armor. No, they were not politically savvy (believe it or not, that’s Daemon. He managed to convince the Red Kraken to side with the Blacks and didn’t really offer him anything in return).
Otto was a terrible Hand who got fired twice, Criston Cole was another terrible Hand who was all muscle and had no political intelligence (or any kind of intelligence), Alicent was a manipulating and greedy shrew hiding behind her sons, Helaena was completely useless, Aegon didn’t know what the hell he was doing or why he was doing it, and Aemond was a brainless psycho on the biggest dragon in existance.
Oh, and there’s also Daeron the Forgotten, who after torching Bitterbridge, managed to get himself killed by a fallen tent.
#GRRM clearly favors the Blacks but he should have been more subtle about it so that the war actually makes sense#canon asoiaf#the dance of the dragons#rhaenyra targaryen#daemon targaryen#team black#pro team black#anti team green#the dragon queen#the blacks#queen rhaenyra#asoiaf#anti alicent hightower#anti otto hightower#anti criston cole#anti aegon ii targaryen#anti aemond targaryen#anti greens
272 notes
·
View notes
Text
Just want to get my thoughts out there
In my honest OPINION, I believe Solar will join Nexus and will be resentful of Moon
Theory
Solar’s mental problem mainly dealt with the fact that he feels useless. (Correct me on that if you wish.) He wants to be useful, so he became the family’s mechanic. But now Moon’s come in and shown that he’s a jack of all trades when it comes to engineering and science. Meaning that when Solar comes back. He’ll be absolutely useless.
Sure he could do other things, like assist Moon. But I doubt he’ll feel on the same playing field as Moon. He might feel like a pawn. Or just dumb. And Moon might not be all that Brotherly to him just because he’s an Eclipse. Sure they could grow closer, but it still feels wrong to just, completely replace someone you’ve known, with a practically complete stranger.
With this feeling of uselessness he might reserve himself, just like Nexus did. (Not to insane, but be distant.) He might long for Nexus’s company. He might join Nexus to try to try and change his ways. Maybe believing that this is a way he can be useful, but instead will be falling into Dark Sun’s trap.
But that’s just my Opinion and theory. (Just wanted to get my thoughts out there) also please be slightly nice in the comments, I’m sensitive.
#sun and moon show#the sun and moon show#tsams#solar tsams#sams solar#solar sams#tsams solar#sams moon#moon sams#moon tsams#tsams moon#nexus sams#sams nexus#tsams nexus#nexus tsams#sun and moon show theory
177 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi!! i just recently found your blog and i love all your hange work 🥲❤️ i was wondering if you could make a fic about detective!hange x vampire!reader ! i thought it could be like season 4 hange where they kinda lost their spark due to the stress of being commander but in this different AU and they gain it back after meeting Y/N. like there’s been many deaths being deaths being reported and hange was spending night after night trying to figure out who this ‘serial killer’ is, only to find out that it’s a vampire! this peaks hange’s interest how they build a relationship is up to you coz i’m not sure but ngl i feel like hange would offer Y/N to suck some blood from their neck for… research purposes and then lowkey be into it and then go into some smut maybe hehe
taste of copper, hange zoë
hey so…? this request eats i’m so excited!! thank u for requesting this <3 hope it’s to ur liking!!
summary: nb detective!hange zoe x vampire!reader, afab bodies!
warnings: 18+ minors and ageless blogs dni!!! explicit sexual content, poc friendly!! mentions of death/dead bodies, murder, blood (it is a vamp fic), um kinky stuff icl, blood kink, tbh hange is p canon i feel like they’d acc be into vampires fr, hange is kidnapped and tied up (sry that ep gave me brain damage) but they’re into it, vamp sex, SUB!HANGE RETURNS, age gap—r is like at least 90 lmao, hange is around late-30s (hot), restraints, fingering, munching, slight degradation, more blood!!
psa— pls don’t fuck cops irl guys, just don’t
wc: …14k … once again i have nothing to say for myself lmao
In the peak of winter, the cold had set over the local town, chilling everything within it. Plants had frosted over, grass was frozen solid and the sun seldom shone.
Hange was Chief Detective, an expert within their field. Had accomplished several degrees in a multitude of disciplines; biochemistry, criminology and law. A jack of all trades, master of all, so to speak. An intellectual prodigy.
The last few years had been slow, crime rates had lowered exceptionally. Logically, Hange knew this was a good thing, it meant that they had been doing their job incredibly successfully. But... it also means that they've been very bored, disillusioned—borderline out of a job. Their days started to merge together, the monotony of mundane tasks repeating themselves everyday left no space for the mind to expand and grow. Hange was bored, the spark they had for their field diminishing with each passing day.
It's hard to be a detective in a low crime zone. The force has been dealing with a lot of ennui lately. Again—it's not a bad thing, in reality. It's just that Hange hates being stuck with nothing to do, and resents being idle, simply forced to twiddle their thumbs.
That is, until a field of bodies starts showing up. Popped up scattered in different parts of the woods. Corpses cold, grey and drained of all of their blood. Completely exsanguinated.
"Heh—reminds me of the ol' chupacabra legends," said one of the interns, rather insensitively, before being hushed by his superiors. Reminded and reprimanded to take the job seriously.
It is curious, though. Corpses left with no visible injuries, except from two puncture wounds in varying parts of the body. No pattern to the location of drainage points, the only consistency being the total drainage.
It had been going on for a few weeks, with one body found hidden in the forest each week. Hange feels a little guilty at how much they begin to relish the thrill of an active investigation again.
Hell, even their coworkers notice. In the mornings, whilst everyone is settling into their desks, Hange hears: "Detective, you're looking well!" and "Glad to see you're feeling like yourself again, Hange!"
It's almost embarrassing, that everyone on the squad can see how much they're thriving with the new caseload. An almost unseemly sentiment within law enforcement. They just can't help it, their brain is working, synapses finally flying to work after being useless for so long as they try to get to the bottom of the new case. Even though there was minimal evidence to work with.
Meanwhile, you had moved into town a few months back. You'd wanted to blend in with human society first, get your bearings within a new location before bodies began dropping as soon as a new person moved in the area.
Being a vampire, it was easy enough to gather fake documents proving your legitimacy—false passports, IDs and new bank accounts in a rotation every couple of years. It was easy enough to compel high rank officials into signing, stamping and creating legal documents for you.
When you first moved, you were disappointed that there were no others of your species living there. Odd considering most towns have at least two residential vampires. Yet the lack of decay and death in the air tells you that you are the only one to reside there. A shame, really, you'd hoped for there to be at least one—other vampires are more fun to fraternize with, easier to band community with than humans.
So you wait, bide your time, feeding on squirrels and wild wolves to get you through for a few months until your body can't survive on it any longer. Animal blood keeps you going, sure, but it lacks the nutrition you need from humans—lacks the taste, too, frankly. Tastes like unseasoned meat that was left to boil in dull water.
You can feel your body growing frail, the muscles in your limbs chewing on themselves. The strength in your body was growing more feeble by the minute, your speed lessening. Icy skin started to feel parched and your stomach constantly feels empty. It's not good enough, you need real food.
So, you begin observing the town. Watch the residents from afar and pick out victims that would be a good source of energy and life. The limitations are already high enough, illness and disease in humans weakens their blood, isn't nutritious and takes like burnt, soiled metal on your tongue. You need healthy, hearty blood.
Preferably, they'd have little to no living family members, fewer people to miss them. Maybe they're lonely and live on their own, maybe they're a regular menace in the town—people who simply aren't going to be missed as much. Anything to prolong the bodies being reported missing and found.
So you gather your intel, and people-watch until you find that perfect person to keep your body going until the next week. Then you'd bring them to the woods, cast your enticing 'spells', enchanting voice and charming eye contact to lure them in. You weren't above using seduction as a feeding tactic. Plus, it helps that vampires have a certain allure that humans find desirable.
The sweet whispers of your voice and the elfin connection of your eyes lure them into a sense of security. The calm that encompasses them grants you time for the spell to kick in until they become a shell of their body. Following your commands, wishing to do anything to please you—pliable. It was just so easy.
Subsequently, it isn't difficult to take them. Almost unbelievable how eagerly they follow you in the darkest depths of the forest, hidden away from street lamps and passing car headlights. Not even the moonlight can penetrate through the thickness of the tree branches, nor a sliver of illumination bounce on the ground through gaps in the leaves.
It's your most perfect spot, you were quite proud of it.
There, you suck them dry. Sink your sharpened incisors into them, calming them down as you drink every last drop they have to offer. Then, once their soul has left their body, once the light has left their eyes, you plant them in different spots. A body hidden under a bed of dead, fallen leaves every week. You had the sequence down to a perfection. You'd try to be as humane as possible, but ultimately humans are just a source of food. The circle of life and all.
You've been doing this for over seventy years. A list of principles and rules had been the mode of operating you followed over the years to keep yourself safe and secure. You don't befriend humans, don't interact with them unless you have to, and you definitely don't fall in love with them. It was a lesson you had learned the hard way a few decades past. Betrayal freezing your heart and halting any attempts of connection.
Leaving behind physical evidence is no concern, the dead circulation from your heart has left you with a lack of fingerprints, a lack of dead, shedding skin cells —things human killers have to worry about, you didn't. Your body is almost in a state of perpetual permafrost, the coldness in your veins preserves your skin. It'd retained its look from the point at which you were turned. The hair on your scalp doesn't grow anymore, and neither do your nails. Stagnancy meant that you took pride in maintaining the length and lusciousness you'd carried when you were still a human, yourself. It helps you feed, after all.
It doesn't mean you didn't have to be careful about other things, though. You had to ensure you didn't make stupid mistakes, even without any physical biological evidence. You may be able to outrun humans, and it's easy enough to kill someone who'd dare to catch you, at a time—but no one could fight against an armed horde ambush if they were overpowered. Stranger things have happened than a vampire getting imprisoned. So you were careful. You didn't want the headache, too high a risk of any potential loose ends ruining your flow of life.
You've done this shit for about seventy years, so how the fuck could you have fucked up, now?
—
Hange is a damned, good detective. Their concentration is aided by the hypnosis of their own hyperfocus, the honed tunnel vision when they're on a case. Countless sleepless nights and a peculiar way of thinking. Hange truly is the very best of the very best, having solved every single case they'd ever been assigned to.
Working on cases back in their more youthful days used to breathe life into them, back when technology wasn't such a huge aspect of catching a criminal. When serial killers weren't as careful about being caught by someone's domestic CCTV. Back when autopsies weren't helped by technological, medical advancements, there had been a lot more murders then. A crazy amount of crime, here, there, and just about everywhere. Nowadays, cases are minimal, the ones that occurred were easily an open-shut case, solved almost instantly.
Which is why their giddiness was now returning to them. At first glance, no one on the force knows how to go about solving this, people working under Hange have no idea where to even begin looking. No viable evidence means there's no plausible cause to question suspects which they don't even have.
The furthest Hange got was extracting lingering traces of an unidentified chemical from the puncture points of every victim— one that Hange concluded was used to knock out and sedate the victims.
The chemical compounds were closely similar to that of the synthetic drug, Ketamine, it just wasn't related enough to be properly classified under that. Plus, the traces found on the punctures were so small, and naturally altered. It was more distinctly relative to that of bat venom, but with a distinctive non-animal chemical formation—it's unlike anything they have ever seen before.
At least, though, it cemented that this was a series of planned serial murders, not a case of multiple, unfortunate animal attacks. Someone must've developed a new drug and have been experimenting it on the locals, Hange hoped there was lead here. Ultimately, though, nothing came of it, no other traces of this unidentified substance had been found.
One night, Hange is working late at the lab, their squad had been sent home to rest for the night. Hange stayed behind, as they usually did, to keep investigating. Looking over the very same evidence they had since the beginning and getting no more results.
It's itching at Hange, this has to be the work of one person, an individual who is careful about covering their tracks, someone who is almost untraceable. Someone smart, they thought, the DNA from the killer in the punctures is simply just.. not there, like it'd vanished, and all that remains is the fleeting chemical traces.
Hange gets a hunch, that the bodies had no more evidence to discover but perhaps the clothes the victims were wearing might? All of that stuff had been sealed away in the evidence locker but no one had looked it over, too busy focusing on the bodies themselves.
On a newfound mission, Hange grabs all of the locked-up clothing from the lockers, deciding to investigate it with the hopes that there was something potentially missed during the first scans.
Lo and behold, after careful examination, there it was. So minute, it was almost missed, almost. Smushed along the cotton sleeve of the most recent victim's jacket, was plant residue. Hange swallowed their growing animation, a less than respectable way to behave.
It isn't much, but they'd take any potential lead they could get.
Deciding to extract the residue, Hange realised they were not going home to rest anytime soon—this was far more important. With the ticking of the wall clock behind them, it prompted Hange to place some of the extracts between two sterile plates of thin glass. Ready for examination under the microscope. With it being so early in the a.m, the toxicology lab had long closed, forcing Hange to look into it themself—which is fine, they tended to work faster when they're left to their own devices.
After a few rather extensive screens and tests, Hange managed to come to the conclusion that this particular plant is toxic, its oils and compounds are consistent with that of black spider lilies. A plant that is not geographically native to this area, and extremely odd that traces of it would even be found around here.
But, looking back... Hange swears that they've seen black spider lilies recently, definitely somewhere close and local, particularly on the windowsill of one specific house. A house that had been deemed uninhabitable a few years ago, had something to do with asbestos trapped within the ceiling and roof. It'd been reported unusable and was left to rot.
It should've raised some flags then, when once Hange was driving on their commute to work and suddenly that house was now back in use. Someone residing there had decorated the outside and the lights were now on. The old, unsanctioned house looked pretty again, refurbished. Hange had just assumed someone bought the place and its problems had been fixed, thought nothing more of it. But now? Things were starting to look good for the investigation.
Absolutely nowhere else had Hange seen this type of flower, certainly nowhere in this town. It's definitely a lead, they thought, something stirring in their gut, intuitive that this was something important.
At the developments, Hange began laughing to themself, almost manically. The thrill of the chase rushed through their veins.
I've got you.
By the time they had finished the tests and tidied the lab, it was already around three in the morning. Perhaps, they should've waited until the first crack of morning, but being the chief detective and having no other reasonable person in the office to warn them against it, Hange got impulsive. They wanted to at least check out the house and its residents tonight.
Maybe they should've even left a note, of what they found and who the new prime suspect is, in the case of anything going awry. Did they? Of course not! Caution was thrown to the wind, logical reasoning overpassed by their giddy excitement with each passing second.
Eagerness clearly too strong a force to fight, as Hange raced to put on their long trench coat, unlock their parked car and drove to the location.
There the flowers were, clear as day, or night, really. Perfectly cultivated and well-maintained black spider lilies, standing tall and sturdy in their vases. Beautiful plants, honestly, but oh, so incriminating. Hange couldn't help the chuckle that slipped from their lips.
Oh, I've so got you.
Perhaps a little silly of them, caught up in their own little wave, Hange ended up jumping the gun. Unlocking the car door to stand between where it connected to the body of the vehicle. An arm perched over the roof of the car as they watched. They did try to be discreet, and hadn't shut the car door with the hopes that the residence wouldn't be disturbed and catch on that they were being watched by a mere door slam.
However, you had heard the purr of a car engine long before it even reached your street, it was a loud bang within your well-attuned sonic ears against the otherwise silent serenity of the night. You had heard the click of the car door opening, followed by a light, low chuckle.
You knew you were being watched before they even began watching you.
Silently, you made your way out your back door, remaining unseen the whole time. Your movements were so quick, that no human eye was able to possibly detect even a mere shadow with the inhuman swiftness of which you moved, placing yourself behind your observer.
Biting back a laugh from behind them, you looked over their body language. This person is clearly a cop, their loud attire told you that enough, a white dress shirt finished with a tie and brown slacks underneath a trench coat. There was a subtle bump underneath their coat indicating the gun holster that was snugly hidden against their torso. A smarter cop than most, if they found you, that's for sure. But not smart enough to think to stay within the safe confines of the car, or to bring a partner along with them.
Honestly, you had expected a cop to have better survival instincts. They hadn't even noticed your looming presence behind them, predatory and proud as you smirked to yourself. Taking the opportunity to observe them whilst they thought they were one step ahead, sneakily observing you, instead.
But, fuck, if their scent wasn't divine, the exhilaration touring through their veins filled your nose. Their ample zeal emanates from their body like a radiative aura. The pumping major vein in their neck pounded just decadently against their skin; its throbbing was so minute only your enhanced eyes could sense it. The keen adrenaline in their blood makes it all the more irresistible.
Blood laced with fear is delicious, but blood laced with excitement? God, it's simply heavenly, nectarous. This is strong, healthy blood, the aroma of warm, honeyed copper pumping down their nerves was dizzying, fuck.
"What exactly are you doing?" your voice broke through the silence like honey, soft against the harsh thumps of heartbeat in Hange's ears. The detective almost jumped out of their skin, the excitement in their blood swished with the newfound fear of being caught. They turned to face you slowly, eyes wide and lips agape, confused by how someone managed to creep up behind them without Hange even noticing. Just how was that possible? They were trained for shit like this.
"I..uh... I'm patrolling the area, ma'am." "Oh yeah? You just look like someone creeping through windows from here."
Truthfully, you liked to play with your food.
The detective flushed, only realising how this could look to a passing pedestrian, but what could they possibly say? Sorry, I'm pursuing an active investigation into a potential neighbour of yours? This begged the question, who even are you and why are you out on the streets at this hour? Hange's head began whirling, a peculiar headache began to ache in their skull. The dull pain was followed by a dizzying, thick sensation in their body, making them flustered.
"Oh, um..." Hange cleared their throat, trying to ignore the growing sensation, "Police business, ma'am, I'm afraid I can't disclose that information."
Oh?
"Well, perhaps you should show me your badge? Seeing as you just look like someone's stalker to me."
Hange swallowed, they'd never seen you before, not in town or any grocery store, nothing. They would've remembered someone who carried themselves the way you did, almost regal in nature, refined and... enticing? Hange's senses were growing lulled, more compliant. Usually, they'd have argued more, hesitant to whip their badge out. Normally, they would be more alert and able to notice the explicit trap. Right now, though, their hand easily slipped into the coat's inside pocket, limbs moving on their own accord as their badge was brought out into the cold air of the night.
Pleased, you smiled to yourself, watching the glaze over their eyes. It was one of your favourite parts in these moments. Watching as their body becomes not their own momentarily until you deem it necessary and let them return to their own senses. You just loved how pathetically pliant they all get, how easily influenced their little minds are until you say so. So easy to compel them to your every command.
The detective slipped the badge into your hand, you didn't even bother to look at it whilst you whispered, "And your gun, too, love."
The words hung like a poison, Hange wasn't in their right mind to decline you, hand slipping into their black holster as they pulled out the sleek, metal weapon. When it was safely in your hand, you smiled sweetly—it's not like the gun could kill you, but gunshots make one hell of a noise. It's smarter to avoid violent confrontation as much as you can, you don't want any more cops sniffing around.
"That's it."
Just like that, within a second Hange was back in their head, their half-lidded eyes reverting back to their regular alertness.
"I—uh," and there was the confusion, it's normal that once the 'spell'is lifted, humans feel a little disoriented, dazed and confused.
"It's alright, dear, just come with me."
—
Hange doesn't remember any of it; the last they recall is parking up and evaluating the suspect house from their car. Their heart began anxiously thumping as they awoke in a dimly lit, lavish bedroom, adorned with lush green velvet fabrics on the curtains. Rich, deep hues of purple coating the walls and lavish textiles on the textured rugs.
The detective's wrists were trapped behind their back, bound tightly with a silky red scarf. It felt plush and tender against their skin, a sharp contrast to the violent, threatening nature of their binds. Hange grunted, and tried to shout behind the gag over their mouth. Jaw slackened as another silk scarf tied around their mouth pressed their tongue to silence, ensuring that any words and shouts would be futile.
Hange thrashed against their binds, panic seeping through their chest whilst dread overtook their features. The scarf began to dig into their wrists, tight and snug against futile movements. Circulation beneath their wrists started to cease. Their chest was heaving, breaths were heavy, and their eyes glanced around the room, checking the surroundings.
Just what the hell happened?
Grunting against the gag, Hange's eyebrows furrowed. Their thrashes increased once they noticed you sat in an armchair in the corner of the bedroom, arms crossed over your stomach with an amused expression plastered on your face.
"I'll remove the gags if you promise to keep quiet."
Hange shuddered in their restraints, what kind of situation did they get themself into? More grunts followed, muffled by the silk stuffed over their tongue as you tutted, shaking your head with minor disappointment.
"Looks like it's staying on."
You stood, powerful and confident in your ethereal elegance as you slowly strut over to their keeled body. Pathetically bound to an exposed metal pipe by an extra length of fabric as it crossed over the silk. With each step getting closer, Hange's blood flowed more furiously, stiffened gaze stuck on you.
The clothes covering your body were dark, there was a black, corseted bell-sleeved top that hung off your shoulders exposing the shadows of your collarbone. A matching, long skirt flowed with your movements. A short golden necklace choked over your neck, with a longer pendant chain trailing down to the valley of your breasts. The warmth of the soft gold emphasised the glow in your skin, radiant and sleek. The pupils in your eyes were dark and coaxing, an almost unhinged tilt in the corner of your lips. Exquisite, in a spine-chilling way.
"You got so close, pity you were so stupid about it."
Hange shook their head at you, wide-eyed and pleading as you leaned over them. Your fingers teased at the hem of fabric covering their mouth, taunting a chance that you'd remove it. The detective stilled, eyes boring into your own defiantly as they swallowed down your words. The confession was pretty much meaningless if they were just about to die in a few minutes. Utterly pointless if it was taken to the grave with them.
"I'd love to know what led you here," you hummed, fingers digging underneath the silk, "How you managed to narrow it down."
At Hange's lack of movement, the threat of noise was stuck in their throat.
"You gonna be quiet for me, love?"
Hange's eyes glimmered with apprehension, it was seeping from their veins, the blood mixing with something else as it pulled towards your nose delightfully. The detective sighed, nodding with unbroken eye contact. Looks like they were braver than most, too. You smiled, tinted dark lips seemed nearly courteous and demure juxtaposing the whole situation, it was almost sweet.
"Perfect."
Fingers trailed between the silk, grazing Hange's warm cheeks so you could drag it down. It had been dampened by their saliva, stuck in their mouth for the length of time it was. You let it hang around their chin, a chilling reminder that you could prop it back up at any given moment.
"So?" You implored.
Hange clamoured, was it smart to attempt a threat or should they just give you what you want? What would keep them alive longer, before their colleagues found them dead in the woods, inexplicably drained of all their blood?
After a beat, Hange responded, "I, uh, I found residue of your plants... you're the only one that has those around here." Your eyebrows rose, astounded that you'd even left a trace, and a foolish one to boot. Never in your seventy years had you made such a laughable mistake. You were losing your finesse. Flower residue? That's a new one. Though, it's not like it matters much, you suppose, in the grand scheme of things. The longest possible life sentence had already been thrust upon you over seventy years ago. At the end of the twentieth year of your human life.
"I see, then I'll just have to be more careful next time,"
The apparent arrogance in your tone irritated Hange, the ludicrous confidence that you simply wouldn't get caught was stupefying and they couldn't prevent themself from interrupting. "There won't be a next time, I'm gonna arrest you and you’ll rot in prison for the rest of your sick life."
Then you merely laughed, a laugh so eerie and haunting, so inappropriate in its context. Their threat seemingly rolled off your back. "Oh, sweetheart, that's utterly brave of you." you sighed, beaming down at the detective, the words taunting, "How could you possibly arrest me when you're stuck right here?"
Hange's chest sunk, heart pacing around in its ribcage at the brutal reality of your words, they were powerless right now, completely at your mercy. Heck, no one in their squad even knew Hange was here.
"I..." "Has it sunk in yet? The fact that you're going to die here and no one will know?
"Shame, too," you hummed, "You're a very good-looking one, Hange, what a waste."
A gulp was swallowed down, unnerved by your haunting words. You knew their name and it slipped from your tongue so easily, like a hunter naming their trophy catch before shooting the animal between its eyes.
"You stole my badge?" Hange muttered, their eyes sinking. The question hung in the air, answered only by a low chuckle and nothing else. The question of the matter was still itching at Hange, though, the nature of the killings still unknown. If they were going to die, anyway, they at least wanted to know the truth of how those people died.
"...How do you do it?" The expression on your face slacked, looking down at them. They were peering up at you with a determined stare, the eager glint in their brown eyes wasn't estranged from their features. Eyes questioning and dead-set on knowing. Their inquisitive spirit was transparent to you, made painfully prominent. "If I tell you that, then I'd really have to kill you,"
"Aren't you, already, anyway?" Your composure faltered a little, frankly, this was a little messy, not aligning with how you normally liked to carry things through. Didn't follow your usual mode of operating, too many loose ends, I mean, they were in your house. You kill them and who's to say their squad doesn't follow the same leads and end up right here, too? Life imprisonment is a little murky when you're immortal. With no access to blood you'd soon perish, they'd find you as a pile of ashes on the ground of a cold cell.
Sure, you could escape and run away, start a new life and begin again, but you'd just gotten comfortable here. It's just another headache to start anew somewhere else, you liked this little house. A single build with a nice lawn, you'd refurbished it and fixed it up, even planted flowers for god's sake!
"It's not an ideal situation, I must admit."
Hange picked up on your hesitance, years on the field made it easy to pick out subtle changes in one's body language and tones. They looked at you, perplexed, their wide doe eyes gaping, you found it endearing, almost charming. The sweetness of their pumping blood was throwing you off, disarraying your head. How the tables turn, I guess.
"You really want to know?" Hange stilled, morbid curiosity eating at them, but they nodded firmly. There returned that determination, again, tugging at you. "..I eat until they drop."
The words from your lips came out with a solemn chuckle attached to an almost weary sigh. You never asked for this. Amidst Hange's horror, they could catch an almost pitiful sparkle in your eyes, their lips split open as they breathed out, "You...what?" There was a slump of their shoulders, finally breaking their gaze away from you and to the floor, "What the fuck does that mean?"
You sank back into your armchair, a red cushioned velvet, "I feed on them," you soughed, "Until there's nothing left." Hange was stirring, you couldn't possibly be saying what they think you were saying. Suddenly, the chupacabra joke from their colleague was no longer a joke. He had hit the nail right on the head. Their heart rate hiked up, you could feel it throbbing from within their veins, booming against your own ears.
"I... don't understand, that sounds like..." Hange couldn't even finish the sentence, it sounded too absurd to even be uttered. Vampires? Existing and roaming? What kind of Dracula sh—
"It is." You confirmed, Hange would've laughed at your trick if it hadn't been so confusing, except they did start laughing - the kind of nervous laughter one pulls out from their chest when they're scared. Shorter gasps mingled along with it, their body actively trying to neutralise a potential panic attack with a different physical respiratory response, especially since you weren't laughing along with them. The stony, faraway stare showed that you meant it.
The exsanguinated bodies, the delicate puncture holes, it all just made too much sense for something that just isn't supposed to make sense. "You're...not—that's not—vamp—they're..not real." You stood, striding over to the breathless detective folded on your wooden flooring. Your eyes met and their breathing simmered, equalising until they were completely calm. Hange drew out the remaining gasp as they caught their breath again. You didn't disorient them this time, you didn't want to.
"I'm afraid so, love, we're very real," "How did you do that?" Hange muttered, baffled by the manner in which you had ceased the onset of a panic attack, with just a glance. They blinked up at you, lashes fluttering behind a layer of thin glasses. Really, they are very pretty.
"Same way I got you to give me your badge and gun—the same way I got your ID and learned your name." "What? You can control minds, too?" "I guess, something like that."
Hange just nodded, you could see the literal cogs turning within their head. Their countenance switched from bewilderment to vague acceptance, then back to confusion. "Well, don't do it again—I don't like someone being in my head."
Your eyebrows tilted up with amusement, that wasn't a response you had anticipated. "That's very demanding, Hange." The detective gave you a look of shock.
"I just found out that va—vampires, exist, okay? Give me some slack." After a few seconds of self-deliberation, they spoke again, "Y-you said we? There's more?" Nodding, you answered, "You have to be turned, can't exactly get turned without somebody else," Hange's expression was undecided, "Think of it like a curse, a lifelong punishment."
Hange sensed resentment, there. An air of hopelessness. You don't even know why you're telling them all of this—maybe years of solitude left you lonely, craving a listening ear. Even if you do have to kill them by the end of it.
"Immortality? A curse?" Their eyes met yours again, searching within them for answers. They were intrigued, to say the least. I mean, years of multiple degrees and doctorates and Hange had been none the wiser to vampires? Of all things? You can't exactly blame them for needing more answers.
"Most of us didn't choose this for ourselves," sighing, you broke eye contact, "We just have to live with it, outliving all your loved ones—forced to drink or perish. Those are your only options." Hange sat absorbing your words, their entire world had been tilted upside down. Yet, they couldn't help but feel a little bad for you, for the subtle wave of melancholy in your tone. Hange didn't quite know what to make of this whole thing.
"So..you do need blood to live?" "I tried to live on animal blood, okay, but... it's not the same. It's like eating a bag of air—doesn't give me what I need." "Like eating junk food?" Hange questioned, "Instead of a real meal?"
The almost innocent comparison made you chuckle, a slight lift at the corner of your lips, "I suppose." Hange let out a gentle, huh, before looking back down. Could they really charge a supernatural being with a crime? But there were still victims, you still killed them, and that couldn't just be ignored.
Hange pulled at their restraints, neck turning to glance at your handiwork, it was impressive—pretty. They looked back towards you, "C-can you take these off?"
Your face hardened into a scowl, eyes narrowing. "I can't do that."
"You planning on keeping me here forever?" "Until I figure out what to do with you, yes." "I promise, I won't say anything."
"Please," you sneered, "Your promise will mean nothing the second I let you go." Hange sighed, "I mean it, you have my word." "That right, love? And what will you tell your fellow detectives?"
Hange blanched, "I-I don't know. We can close the case as cold—leave it as it is, as long as you don't drain anyone else." "I have to eat, Hange." "I know, which is why I won't say anything."
Your fingers came to rub at your forehead, "And how do you propose I eat, then?"
"Do you need to kill when you...feed?" "Not exactly—it's just easier so they don't go running and tell everyone. The compulsion doesn't work for an infinite amount of time—it runs out." Hange nodded, looking around the room in deep thought.
"Then, feed on me."
Shock choked your throat, what? You gaped at Hange from your chair, are they crazy? "You cannot be serious.." Hange shrugged, "It's a mutually beneficial agreement—I stay alive and learn all about this new world 'n you get to stay...well fed."
"And bodies stop dropping like flies.." Hange muttered, at a lower volume. You still caught it, of course. Were they proposing to self-sacrifice their own blood so no one else died? Hange almost laughed at your expression, wordless.
A human offering themselves up? You didn't ever think one would do that. It wasn't unheard of, other vampires had shared plenty of stories with you about their favourite humans—you had just decided, a long time ago, to maintain a healthy distance. However, the detective made an interesting offer and you're certain their blood would sate you for a while, with how loudly it's drumming against their neck. How divine would it taste? As enriching and decadent as you think?
"If it helps—I'm thinking of it as research," Hange explained, a crooked smile hanging on their lips, "All totally off the record—by the way."
Yeah, they definitely are crazy, you thought. Looking them over, in your years you had gotten pretty good at sniffing out lies, but there was thoroughly not a hint of it on Hange. No, it was even worse. That sincere excitement that fuelled their blood earlier had returned, replacing the previous fear. Groaning internally, you knew that they were offering a taste of what would probably be the most incredible bite of your life, right on a silver platter.
"My only rule is none of that creepy mind control shit—freaked me out."
With every new word out of their mouth, you grew additionally stunned. Never in your life had you expected this from a human. A crazy human, sure, but still? Hange seemed to have accepted the situation with basically abnormal ease and made their peace with the new information about the world. Almost lost their shit at the beginning, but you could sense their curiosity. It was outweighing their fear. By a long mile. Hell, they were even demanding shit from you—no one has even endeavoured to try that for decades.
Their blood thumped succulently, fear had long dissipated, replaced only by that delectable zeal. It was tough to decline their offer, honestly. Your mouth watered at the thought of tasting them, and you were hungry. The last time you fed was that fucker that got you caught.
Hange took notice of the darkening pools of black that endured over your eyes, hunger. Your tongue darted out to dampen your lip ever so slightly as you stared down at the tied-up detective in your bedroom. Hange should've perhaps felt more frightened than they were, but they couldn't lie and pretend that their intrigue was due to fear. Hange held eye contact firmly, almost challenging and prepared. You swear you could see a tinge of red splashed on their cheeks, with a glimmer in their eyes.
"I'll untie you," you hummed, "but if you make any quick movements, I catch even a hint of you thinking about bolting—you're dead." Hange shuddered, swallowing, you could see their veins throb before they nodded.
"I won't."
In a sudden flash, you were behind them, your cold hands meeting their warmer wrists as you delicately unlaced the silk scarves. Loosening them until Hange could have free movement. Hange gradually turned to face you, their hands rubbed at each wrist to soften the imprints of the restraints. Their breathing grew hefty, as they observed you, waiting. Tentatively, you reached to remove the silk still bunched around their jaw, before glancing into their eyes. Evaluating if they were going to try and make a run for it, but their scent filled your nose, eager and wanting. They were enjoying this. The realisation was dizzying—Hange was dizzying.
"You sure you want me to do this, love?"
Hange was feverishly warm, nodding, "As long as you don't drain me, yes." you hummed in response, desire fuelling your own keenness as you imagined their metallic taste.
"Where d'you want me to—" "Anywhere."
The corner of your lips quipped up, exposing the fangs protruding from your incisors as they grew longer with your increasing thirst. Hange felt themself shiver at the sight of longing glazed in your eyes. At the sharp points poking out from beneath your full top lip. Kinda sexy, Hange thought, wait wha—
Meanwhile, you were mulling. Blood from the wrist would suffice, it was tasty enough, but blood from the neck was much warmer, hotter, and more alive.
"Take off your coat 'n holster." Hange diligently followed your orders, discarding the heavy garment and unclipping the holster from their torso, throwing them down to the floor near the silk ties. You reached a hand out, inviting—an offer to guide them to a more comfortable place. Hange's hand met your own, a chill travelled down their spine as your colder fingers interlaced with theirs and you led them to your queen-sized bed.
You hadn't even used your powers, and yet they were still following you willingly, completely entranced of their own accord. You found that you liked it, found that it set your cold body alight, as it hadn't done for years. Hange sat at your bed, comfortably sandwiched between two pillows. Doe eyes watched you expectantly, the brown pools behind lenses tracking after your body as you charmingly placed yourself beside them. Thighs were touching against each other. This is kind of exciting, Hange thought.
"I've... been wanting to taste you all night," Hange let out a breathy gasp, the connotation of your words flustered them. The blush of their cheeks returning as you eyed them up, inching yourself closer to their slender neck. Fingers teased around Hange's knee.
"Could feel your blood flowing from across the street," you inhaled, a twinkle coming over your eyes, "just... irresistible."
Hange was lulled into a natural daze, the incitement of your words heating them up more than it should. Inching your head closer to their pulse point, your nose grazed over Hange's tender, shivering skin. The detective sighed, head lolling backwards a few angles to expose more of themself to you; allowing you more access. Hange's knee leaned itself into your palm.
"Wi-will it hurt?" "Not much, my love."
It's true, that after the sting of the initial punctures, fangs naturally seep the chemical Hange found, into their bloodstream. It was an evolutionary mechanism, developed to sedate, designed to be pleasurable. Hange was trembling beneath you, their hands squeezing together atop their thighs.
One of your hands reached out to unbutton the top four catches of their shirt, loosening the fabric around the collar to show their shoulders and collarbone. Looking down at their neck, you could see the raising bumps rising over their skin. You loosened up their tie, too, allowing it to dangle shamelessly over their bare throat.
Pressing your lips to peck at the skin, grazing right over the crook of their neck, you saw Hange swallow beside you. Their eyes fluttered shut, reeling in the sensation of the coldness of your satiny lips.
"Tell me when it's enough," you mumbled, in-between tender kisses, "just tap me and I'll stop."
Lost for words, Hange nodded, "Okay," their lips twitched at the feel of your own. Feeling the way your words blew against their skin, your hand raised from their thigh to grasp their waist. The other lifting to move Hange's hair out of the way. Your lips parted to sink your fangs into their olive skin. A hiss escaped from Hange at the initial sting. Eyes squeezed whilst their head fell back, and you grabbed the top of Hange's spine to provide support.
Their blood began to shed against your teeth, coating your tongue. "Ah—fuck." came from their wispy voice, followed by a lowered sigh, the chemical had kicked in. The pain subdued, easing off as their blood was drawn from your fangs. It was almost sensual, intimate.
A muffled groan reverberated from deep within your throat as you fed, their blood tasted even better than you could've ever imagined. Sweet and saccharine on your tongue. Their taste encompassed your senses, and your breathing heaved. Hange grasped the back of your neck and tightened their warm grip on you, drawing you closer to their own neck. Their lips split to release a sharp whimper whilst your teeth ravenously sunk deeper into the divine flesh.
Your senses were overloaded, Hange's fragrant elation candied their blood—so much different to how fear tasted. Amidst their elation and the overwhelming mouthful of blood, you could sense a dampness gathering within Hange's centre, leaking and sitting in between their legs—oh!
A rasped snarl evoked from your throat, and your fingers came to squeeze tighter into their midsection, just above their hip. Pulling your bodies tighter against one another, relishing and indulging your appetite in Hange's own depraved bliss.
Strength began to return to your limbs, enflaming your entire being as Hange's lithe body twitched and trembled. You were almost full, just a little longer. You'd have expected Hange to tap out by now; but the sporadic tremors of their thighs, the little jerks of their hips unveiled their lustful rapture.
"That feels—shit—f-fantastic," Hange whined, able to catch their voice to whine into the room's atmosphere, their speech soft and breathy. Lighter. You hummed into their neck, intoxicated and relishing in their divinity as you rid them of their blood. You rolled your tongue, lapping over the lacerated punctures. "Ah—" They keened, sinking themself further into your fangs, loving the sensation of the wet muscle passing against their skin. It felt like Hange had no intention of stopping you anytime soon, and if you continued you'd end up sucking them completely dry.
Removing your fangs from the indents in their neck, Hange grumbled beside you. With a closing swipe of your tongue over the fresh wound, you licked the remnants of blood sticking to their skin.
"Wait, wh-why'd you stop..." Hange was dazed, slowly blinking up at you with creeping disappointment, as they attempted to push your head back to where it was. "Love," you chuckled, licking the specks of blood caught in the corners of your mouth, "if I continued, you'd be dead—I've had my fill, thank you."
Hange definitely had not, though, a slight pout lifted their sweet lips. "You taste fucking delightful, thank you, dear." "But..." Hange firmly compressed their thighs together, desire sinking down their diaphragm from your pulling words as they were left with an uncomfortable dampness between their thighs, "..I.. enjoyed it."
"I'm sure you did, but I can't take anymore from you tonight." "I.." Hange's voice trailed off, unsure of whether they should continue speaking. "What is it, dear?"
Hange shied at the way you referred to them, words hesitant, "Can we... maybe, do this again?" "What, y'trying to make me a regular?" your words were teasing. Hange flushed, ears reddening as they fiddled with their dainty fingers. "I just thought that, maybe, this could be a permanent solution."
You studied them cautiously, understanding of what was truly going on here. Hange was hooked, and suddenly this had just gotten much messier than initially thought.
"How often do you...need to eat?" "Usually once a week, if it's good blood then longer—yours should keep me going for a good while."
You could smell Hange's rising disappointment, they nodded, "Oh."
"That's not a bad thing, you know?" you laughed, your posture relaxing as you nudged your shoulder into theirs, "Besides, y'need a few days to recover from the blood loss. So make sure you eat well, dear—get your strength back."
Hange looked up at you, the glasses placed on the aquiline bridge of their nose flashed with the reflections of the ambient lamps.
"That's... considerate of you," they whispered, taking in your words. "Well, I need to keep you healthy now, right?" "So that means, we can do it again?"
Their insistence was acutely endearing, you bit down a smile, "You keep your end of the deal, then I'll keep mine." Hange's lips twitched, stretching into a pleased grin, "I'll close the case as soon as I can—so no more bodies?" "No more bodies."
—
Truthfully, you'd been a little apprehensive to let Hange leave your house for work that following morning. (Yes, they did spend the night, you're not cruel—you couldn't let them pass out on the streets. That's all, nothing more.) A fiendish part of your paranoia was trying to persuade you that the detective had just put up a really convincing act, but you knew that didn't feel right. Humans couldn't hide sincerity like that with you in comparison to how they did with other humans. You could quite literally feel the lies, their quickening heart rates and body language gave them away all too easily.
Thinking back to that night, it felt like a little bit of a dreamy haze, you were surprised with yourself for even entertaining it for that long. Let alone allowing them to give you demands, none of that mind control shit—their words rang louder in your head as you chuckled to yourself. Catching a threatening smile forming against your cheeks as your thoughts fell back to the hopeful glimmer in their eyes as you agreed to feed on them again. Cute.
Excuse me, what the actual fuck? If you could glance in the mirror and actually see yourself, you'd have a stern one-on-one conversation with your own reflection. You'd say, just how the fuck could you let this happen! Should've just killed them and been done with it. But you just... couldn't. There was just something strangely charming about the detective. Intelligent and so, so cute.
That's without even thinking about how wonderfully delicious they were, offering themself to you as if they trusted you with their life. The way they squirmed beneath you, the little gasps that evaded Hange's throat as you drank. The throb between their thighs calling out for you to do something about it and... fuck, you were losing your train of thought.
This definitely isn't good, nor is it even wise. A deal with a human? Add that to your increasing list of recent mistakes. You can't just expect them to sell out their own species—but intuitively, you almost trusted Hange. Their personality felt too genuine, the blush on their cheeks when they got flustered and the pretty sounds they made as you fed, no one could just fake that, right?
Your phone buzzed as Hange's number popped through the notifications, they didn't let up on this that night. Went on a long ramble about how you should both be in contact so that dinner plans could be made effectively. They began a pattern of often texting you over the course of the week, clearly having a lot of questions about the nature of your 'curse', and it was a lot.
Hange tried to secretly code their questions to you in the form of pretending it was about a supernatural book series you were both discussing. Hange stated that you never know when phones and their messages are being tapped or logged; and that it was smart to use the book as a pretence, as if you were both just debating dorky questions within its universe context.
You didn't have the heart to tell them how painfully obvious they came across. Plus, although you thought of it as a little silly, you did periodically get gems like this:
hzoe: hey you think in that universe vampires can read minds? i feel like they could! you: No, probably not.
or:
hzoe: um how do u think they feel about period blood??? i mean what if they're just trying to go about their day and its that time of the month for a lot of people? how could they resist the urge to just stick a straw up there and go ham??
That particular one came in one day at eight in the damned morning, way too fucking early for that sort of question. Your reply never came for that one. Then there was your personal favourite:
hzoe: ya think they've ever gone down to the bottom of the ocean, just to see what's down there?
That one actually made you laugh, unfortunately. You decided that one day you'd actually try it—maybe relay your findings to your little scientist. Hange was clearly bursting out the seams with questions, and who better to ask than their friendly, local vampire? After a couple more days, Hange texted you again.
hzoe: hey, can we have dinner? (i'm not hungry, let's have dinner.)
The senses in your body ignited, thinking about the opportunity of being able to feed from Hange again. They'd been incredibly patient about it, albeit with a few questions regarding whether or not you were getting hungry. It was easily perceivable that they were getting more antsy, it seeped through the messages. And your filling from the last feed was wearing dry.
Hange was due to come down to your place after their shift—it's funny, they never were the type to leave work at the hour the shift ended. Always stayed behind, later than everyone else, focusing on research if there were no cases, which there barely ever were. So it's unusual to their colleagues that Hange is suddenly very eager to leave the workplace.
The detective hadn't shared the evidence they came across, true to their word, so the case had pretty much come to a standstill. People were obviously still confused, with so many unanswered questions and a recent lack of new bodies. Hange felt a little guilty for withholding information about the case from their longtime coworkers, but a deal is a deal. Hange considered themself a person of good faith, betraying your trust simply wasn't in the cards for them.
Hange was behaving normally around all of them, the only difference is that they were suddenly using their phone a lot more during breaks and actually leaving work at the time they were scheduled to. One of their coworkers pulled them to the side earlier in the day, a weird, little knowing glint plastered over his face as he interrogated Hange on if there was a new lady in their life.
Naturally, Hange got incredibly flustered, waving their hands in the air with attempts to refute the idea profusely; though the blush in their cheeks betrayed them. The coworker walked away laughing at them, shaking his head with a 'Sure,' clearly disbelieving of everything Hange tried to refuse. It was damning, for sure. However, Hange supposed it was better that they think this instead of the reality... so they just kind of let them believe it.
Meanwhile, you were feeling especially generous tonight, perhaps because of your own excitement or perhaps because Hange had stayed true to their deal for now. Either way, you decided to cook them a nice meal. It was mainly to ensure they had enough in their system to make up for the next loss of blood, at least that's what you told yourself.
The detective's car was heard before they were seen, you heard the drone of the engine come to a halt and a click of the lock. Hange knocked at your door, so you moved away from the oven top to let them in. Their intoxicating scent was back in your vicinity.
"Hey—wait, are you cooking?" Hange looked past you to the bubbling pot on the flame, "I thought you couldn't eat human food."
Suddenly, you felt sheepish, an unusual emotion for you, turning back to lean over the pot, "Uh, yeah I can't—it's for you." Hange's brows lifted, a quick look of surprise on their face before it switched to slight adoration. They nibbled on their lip, trying to ignore the squeeze that tightened around their chest at the sight of you cooking for them.
They had just finished up at work, and here you were cooking for them? The simple action felt so domestic, so marital, and you felt Hange's heartbeat hike up, thumping in your ears. "That's sweet, it smells great."
Shrugging, you turned back to face them, "I could hear your stomach rumbling from your car, I'm glad I decided to cook." You joked, trying to lighten the sudden severity of tension in your house.
"I did eat! I had a sandwich for lunch," you rolled your eyes. "That is definitely not enough if you're going to lose blood tonight,"
Hange reddened at your words, ashamed to admit they had been looking forward to this more than was probably necessary. Your voice broke them out of their thoughts, reminding them that food was ready and demanded that they sit down.
The detective removed their trench coat and holster, this time hanging it around the edge of your couch, before sitting down. The air was a little tense, filled with smokey anticipation as you loaded Hange's plate with your food.
"I didn't know you cooked," "I used to love cooking," you sighed, sitting parallel from Hange, with only a short cup of mellow whiskey on ice, "It's nice having a reason to do it again, even though I'm a little rusty now."
Hange watched you intently as you spoke, their thoughts haphazard and their hand grabbing a fork to load a bite into their mouth. The delightfully tender meat melted on their tongue, complimented by the combination of aromatics and spices you'd used to flavour the warm sauce.
"This doesn't taste like someone who's rusty—it's delicious." "I'm glad you think so,"
You sipped on your drink as Hange ate, feeling strangely proud that the food was being enjoyed. It was hard to ignore Hange's moans of food pleasure, rocking a little in their chair with contentment as they ate.
"Y'keep cooking for me like this and I'll have to marry you—" Your eyes lifted from your drink to Hange, who was sitting there with a bashful expression. "I didn—"
"No one ever cooked for you?" Changing the subject was a good idea, halt Hange's embarrassment and halt your own speeding heart. This was definitely not good.
"Not for a long time," It was slightly isolated being a chief detective. The social network ends up being the people on your squad or at the lab. Hange lived and breathed their work, relationships never at the forefront of their priorities. That, and the opportunity seldom showed itself.
Nodding, you brought the rim of the glass to your lips, letting the liquor slide into your mouth as Hange finished the meal, complimenting your efforts one last time. "You got a little..." you muttered, glancing at the smallest speck of sauce on the corner of Hange's lips. "Oh—" As Hange fumbled over themself to quickly fix it, you beat them to it. A calm hand reached over to swipe your thumb over their lower lip, effectively wiping the speck off.
Hange's chest rose and sank, frozen in place as your thumb remained hovering over their lip. Almost as if you were waiting for... oh. The pupils within Hange's eyes dilated, allowing the black of their eyes to expand as they split their lips to allow you entrance.
"Gotta have every last drop, right?" Your gentle words were like nectar, laced with a sweet insinuation and thick persuasion. The detective's plump lips pursed over your thumb, sucking the tiniest remnants of the sauce from your skin whilst oceans of black pools held your gaze. Hange's scent was coating the air, the excitement that returned to their blood was driving you out of decorum as it filled your senses.
Their tongue was lapping over your thumb, so obediently, until you popped it out from their mouth. Your lips tilted into a smirk as you took notice of Hange's disappointment. Thumb grazed over their bottom lip once more, smushing the plumpness around, wanting to tease the flustered detective for a little longer.
"Are you h-hungry?" Hange's twinkling, eager eyes pleaded, squirming around in their chair whilst your thumb pressed over their skin. "Starving."
Hange exhaled a heavy breath followed by them leaning closer into your space. "Can we go... into the bedroom?" Their gaze fell to your lips as your smile widened, "It—it's just more comfy." "Of course, dear."
The gulp that spanned down Hange's throat was unmissable, the spike in their heartbeat matched your own as you led them to your bedroom. It looked the same as it did last time, but the energy within it was entirely different, the kind of palpable charge that electrifies the air right before a storm. Closing the door, Hange seated themself on the edge of the bedcover, it was a kind of emerald velvet — affluent and plush. Most things in your house had a look of regalness. Hange's fingers skimmed over the lush fabric, a stim to release the tension building within their limbs.
Sitting across from them, you set a soothing hand on their knee. Hange looked more uneasy than last time, and you worried that they no longer wished to continue with it and just weren't stating so. "You don't have to do this... I can find another source." Hange instantly broke out of their trance, the lid over their eyes enlarging as they shook their head. "No! That's not.. what I'm thinking."
"What are you thinking, then?" "Would it be okay if..." the rest of the sentence retreated, Hange growing timid, "Could you kiss me? Before you do it?" It was hard to not be endeared by the detective, with shrinking words but insistent determination overpowering it.
"Want me to kiss you, dear?" Hange nodded, with a slight circumference of their lip drawn in by their teeth, their eyes trailing down to your silken mouth. Leaning your head closer to theirs, your vision flicked from their eyes to their parting lips. Your faces were centimetres away from each other, Hange's head at an incline to yours, endeavouring to haul you in.
Hange simmered with anticipation as you teasingly extended the process, inciting them with scorching greed. You wanted to draw this out—knowing that once you kissed Hange, both of you could sink into something deeply irreversible. So you waited, breathing Hange's sighs into your orbit as you observed the way impatience began to riddle their face. The subtle tweaks of their eyebrows as their half-lidded eyes lingered on your lips. Hange whimpered when you got a little closer, a slight graze of plumpness against their own led them to believe you'd finally attach, to no avail.
"Please."
Your lips curved upwards as you finally pressed them against Hange's, who felt such a beguiling relief at the connection. Your hands reached up to grasp Hange's jaw, pulling them closer. Hange sighed as your lips united. Softly and hesitant at first, a means for growing comfortability at Hange's request. Then it escalated, the scent of Hange's blood rose with ardour as the kiss intensified. Open mouths split to allow tongues to mix with the heat, wet muscles ravaged one another.
Hange gripped at your neck with a slight tightening of their digits on your skin. You felt yourself reel, their scent kindling carnal want within your stomach, rousing your ferocity. You liked kissing Hange, more than any other in the past, perhaps more than you should. Their little incensed groans that muffled against your lips spurred you to place your hands beneath their thighs, tugging Hange from their position and manoeuvring them between your pillows. Hange's thighs split to accept your placement in between.
The kiss was maddening, Hange's entire being was all-consuming. Lasciviously, your teeth clamped down on their bottom lip, erupting a hiss from Hange as you sucked the tiny beading of blood from their skin, you couldn't contain your keenness to taste Hange again.
Your lips separated as Hange's head nestled between the cushions. Their glasses were a little crooked on the bridge of their nose, dishevelled from when you cruised Hange to lie down, their lips plumpened and swollen from the ambush. With a chuckle, you fixed their glasses for them, straightening them into proper line— Hange was left with no option but to watch you do it as they replenished the air back in their lungs, a deep set in their lower belly as you gently fixed the placement of their glasses.
Lowering your head, your nose grazed up from their hollowed trachea to the space below their ear. Hange freely hung their head back, deliriously exposing their neck further to you. They were gifting you their skin as they waited for you to feed. You pressed a peck against the side of their neck to simply watch the shivers descend their body.
The buttons clasping the fabric of Hange's shirt were now undone, this time it wasn't just the top four buttons. You had every intention of keeping it that way, of leaving Hange with some remaining dignity but they just didn't want it. Their slender fingers unclasped the perilous buttons you had nobly ignored. The two separate sides of their office shirt now disconnected to present an indecent flash of Hange's tanned skin. A delectable contrast against the white shirt, the light in the room shadowed the contours of their sternum leading down to their navel. A little trail of hair guided your eyes down, just to be covered by the waistband of their pants.
You almost audibly groaned, feeling yourself debilitated by Hange's enticing snare. They were trying to lure you in, a tempting song ringing in your ears. The heaves within their chest are more captivating with the lack of any covering fabric, the stiffening of their nipples poked through the half-opened shirt. Hange's collarbone, sternum and tight stomach are all unrestricted, free for you to gaze upon and admire. Hange was simply ravishing.
Placing a hand below the loose fabric, you grasped their hipbone, squeezing once you heard Hange draw in a gasp at the coldness of your fingers against their enflamed being. As much as you tried to withhold yourself, and control your gluttony—Hange was making it exceedingly difficult. Your lips hovered over their neck, on the opposite side of where you punctured last time and licked up a stripe with your tongue. You weren't as gentle with it as last time. Spurred by Hange's sounds and their insistence on sinking you down with them. Hange shuddered underneath you, inclining their neck closer to your teeth as you pricked your fangs deep into their flesh.
The exquisite flavour of Hange's blood once more filled your mouth, coating your tongue. You hummed into their neck, fingers digging into their hip as you drank voraciously. Hushed moans escaped from Hange's lips as your fangs drew the very blood from their veins. Hange was a lot more vocal this time, whimpering at how fucking good it feels to have your fangs piercing their skin again. The slick pooling between their legs reaches your nose delightfully, and you can hear their pulsing clit. Dangerous words slip from Hange's mouth.
"Fuck—" Hange whispered with delirium, their voice was taut and airy as their hips writhed against your body, perfectly nestled between their thighs, "Wish you could do that forever,"
The depravity of Hange's words ensnared you, finding yourself losing your grip on reality. So do I, you thought. In a fit of lust, coaxed by Hange's intensity, your knee pressed itself against Hange's centre. At the wicked combination of your knee and the added exhilaration of your fangs buried deep within their skin; Hange let out a vulgar, insatiable moan. Their hands came to dig into your back as their mind whirled. Hange was in a stupor, clouded by their prurient desires. Obsessed, that's how they felt. Utterly addicted to you, and now that you'd kissed them? Now that your knee was bucking into their throbbing core? No chance. They wanted you to be theirs, they didn't care for the logistics of reality.
Hange had been pining hard over the last week, indulging themself in sordid thoughts of your fingers deep inside their walls. The images kept them up at night, flicking their index over their own clit as they imagined you snug in between their thighs. Hange was aching then just as they're aching now. They felt their head grow lighter with the loss of blood, it was spurring their wretched want for you as they ground their hips against your knee, panting with their head back.
You were in a similar way. Senses overly just full of Hange—their desire was radiating from their body and the copper taste of their blood was so intensely intoxicating. You knew you had to stop feeding soon, though, you'd been full a while ago, and Hange couldn't afford your licentious greed. You want this one around. Rather begrudgingly for both of you, you unhooked your fangs from Hange's throat, licking up the specked remnants splattered on their neck.
"Sublime, as always."
Hange whined as they recognised that it was over, lifting their head to meet eyes with you again. Hange lips stretched to grin up at you, beaming as their luscious left-over blood trickled down from your lips. Shame was way out of the window as they felt themself clench around nothing at the sight. Gathering a good dose of it on their fingers, Hange slipped their blood-covered fingers into your open mouth for you to appreciate. They couldn't help the deviant sounds they evoked, watching you happily lap up the maroon nectar drying on their svelte fingers with your eyes closed, groaning at their taste.
"Every last drop, right?" Hange mumbled, voice thick with wanton need. Their hips started winding against your knee again, causing fleeting bouts of tantalising euphoria to spread in their stomach. Grasping Hange's wrist tenderly, you pushed away their fingers from your mouth, tugging both wrists to a limp above their head. Gazing down at Hange as their lips split with each buck of your knee.
"If you keep looking at me like that, dear, I won't stop," you muttered, your free hand skimming over their stomach, twitching as you grazed past their abdomen and landed just above their waistband. Hange fidgeted beneath you, pulling your lower body tighter against their centre with their thighs.
"That sound good?" Hange nodded, "Please— it's all I've been t-thinking about..."
Loosening the buttons on their jeans, you pulled their clothing off. All that remained was the slutty white top baring Hange's torso and shoulders to you, the long sleeves ended up bunched around their elbows.
"What else have you been thinking about, huh?" Hange glanced up at their crossed wrists, propped up above their head still even though your hands had long stopped holding them. Obedient. "The silk ties.."
"What about them, sweetheart?" "I l-liked them on my skin," Hange sighed when they felt your fingers teasing their inner thighs, "I want you to tie my wrists with them, again, please."
A treacherous heat fevered down to your stomach, you swallowed an exhale. "Well," You grumbled, "How can I say no to that?"
You leaned over to grab the silk scarves from your dresser. Usually, you used them for your hair but this was a great alternative. Slipping the delicate silk around Hange's crossed wrists, you left their arms hanging above their head, tied and trapped.
Hange's arousal was thumping against your ears, increased with the new position. Sitting into a straddle over their pelvis, the slit of your long skirt exposed your lithe thighs as the fabric bunched around your waist. Hange's lensed eyes studied you, heavy and thick as they took in the newly bared skin that they now just couldn't touch. Your chest was close to theirs as you hovered your mouth above their lips.
"I—shit," "What is it, Hange, what else d'you want?" You placed your knee back in between their legs, your other leg was curved around their right, teasing their relief. "Can—can you just fuck me, please—" Hange was pleading, voice embarrassed and their lidded eyes dark. The closeness of your knee to their pulsing core was overbearing, just left in wait for some real touch.
Grazing your fingers down their exposed sternum, you provoked a little pressure with your nails. Light scratches rubbed against Hange's soft skin, leaving pinkish marks on their torso. Their stomach twitched and their pelvis rutted up at the action, causing the skin of your knee to bump against their bare slit. "Hnf—please, I—"
"Need you—so bad," Your hand travelled lower, ever so slow, tormenting. Fingers grazed over Hange's seeping clit, it was swollen and begging for touch. You groaned as you trialled a swipe with your index, feeling how arduously saturated Hange was for you.
"Got this wet just from me feeding on you?" you chuckled, enjoying the little twitches in Hange's facial expressions, "My god, love, you're fucking soaked."
"Pl-please—can't take it any more," "You don't even feel an ounce of shame, do you?" you began rubbing over their clenching, puffed clit, "No, you don't care how twisted this is." Hange whined, rippling their pelvis over your hand, their eyes closing as you finally soothed the fiendish craving.
"You just want some release, don't you, Hange?" Hange cried beneath you, their wrists weakly lowering ever so slightly to rest atop their head. Dousing your fingers over their leakage for less friction, you rolled pressure over their clit with your digits. You enjoyed seeing them like this.
Hange let out lecherous, unstable moans, relishing at the feel of your coldness massaging their swollen bud. Your words were driving them to a growing, rapid insanity. Hange startled when you effortlessly slid two fingers into their heat, curling them up to hit the back of their inner walls.
"Ah—fuck—yes, fuck—finally." Lowering yourself down to their pelvis, fingers ramming inside Hange as you rested your head on their spread thigh. Hange could just stare down at you, sat pretty between their legs with a damned smile on your lips as Hange was coming apart on your fingers.
"You look so p-pretty—like that," Hange mewled, your eyes sparkling as you saw their blissed disposition. "Yeah?" you bit the corner of your inner lip, before grazing your lips over their inner thigh, pecking, "This what you thought about?"
Hange nodded, exhaling deeply as they peeped the expansion of fangs from your teeth. The sharp incisors pulling across the sensitive skin of Hange's inner thigh. Their thigh twitched when you buried a light nip on their skin, a tiny bead of blood drawing out. Not enough to drain them, just a little drop, just a little extra taste. The tied-up wrists above Hange's head were trembling, losing control over their muscles as your tongue poked out to swipe up the small, maroon bead.
"Fuck—that's, hn, fuck." Your tongue left a viscous mark in its wake, you licked up Hange's thigh, leaving them twitching on your fingers. You prodded the squish of their walls, assailing a spot that had Hange shivering and mumbling out salacious cries.
Your mouth was so close to their pussy, Hange couldn't keep their eyes open anymore. Head leaning back into the pillows ruinously as your tongue tentatively swiped along the dewy sap coating their slit. Their blood tastes divine, but this was almost better. Their scent and taste crowded your senses, it was all Hange, dizzying you. Their hedonistic whimpers forced you to carnally crave more of them; the sweetest blood you had ever tasted and the most inviting pussy to ever grace your tongue.
Your muffled moans fell into Hange's core as you ate it, their hips quipped up desperately to feel your tongue, their oozing pussy clenching tight to burrow in your fingers. "So fucking tight, shit," you murmured. Hange's bound wrists and bent elbows were in tremors as they allowed you to have all of them, thighs spreading out further to trap you within.
"Shit—like that, fuck—unh—" Hange's debased vocals made you wayward, incensed to bring the cute detective to their last brink, all splayed underneath you. Your fingers worked steadfastly, kneading into Hange's welcoming heat with an unwavering rhythm. The tension in their abdomen tightened, it flexed and twitched with your movements as your tongue slowly ravished over Hange's swollen bud.
Your free hand slithered up to cup around Hange's breast, tracing around the stiffened nipple. Hange's back arched up to greet your hand and you spread the plush skin between your fingers. Minute grunts were stuck in Hange's throat whilst you tweaked the firm bundle, the nerves eliciting acute thrills down their spine.
"Feels, s'fucking good—shit, love seeing you there."
With half-lidded eyes, Hange stared down at you, gulping, when they witnessed how deeply enraptured you were in between them. Your jaw and mouth buried into their slit, your brows pinched as frenzied mumbles vibrated in your throat. Leftover streaks of blood drying on their thigh from the bite. It was sinful, how miserably turned on they were from it. By the sight of you working them with eager might, and Hange left unable to touch you, can't even squeeze on to the nice, velvet sheets as their peak builds up. Lifting your tongue from them briefly, you mutter to yourself, "Fucking delicious," before delving back in.
That was enough for Hange, "Fuck, 'm gonna fucki—hng, 'm so close—pleas- keep going," The overwhelming bliss of sensations and your carnal words caused the tension to tighten and tighten until their abdomen ruptured their orgasm with a voluptuous cry from their lips. Slight tremors and twitches in the detective's pelvis and legs as they ride their release on your diligent fingers and tongue. Their nails broke the skin of their hands, the only physical outlet to relieve their release within the silk confines on their wrists.
"Fuck..." Hange whispered, blissed out as their ears began to ring. You lifted your head from their legs, impishly checking on them as their chest heaved. Soaked fingers slid out, pulling a final pulsing clench from Hange's pussy.
You kneeled up, sitting on folded calves as Hange's chest attempted to relax into a normal breathing pattern. Reaching up to untie the knots in the silk scarf from around their numbed wrists, which then lowered to bring forth circulation again. Their head was sunken back in the pillows whilst their eyes were on you, suddenly sheepish.
"You okay?" you cautioned warily, grasping their wrist to soothe over the indented marks left over their arms. Hange gaped as you tenderly rubbed over the marks, in such a gentle manner. "Yeah—just a little out of it," Hange lightly huffed, eyes fixed as you continued to caress their tender skin.
You halted your movements on their wrists to request eye contact, a hand grasping Hange's soft jaw to allow them to look at you. Hange's breath hitched, their doe eyes reflecting an unreadable expression within. You smiled at them, rubbing a thumb over their jaw before you fixed their crooked glasses once more, setting them properly on Hange's nose bridge. The cherry on top was a little, light peck you rested on Hange's nose.
Hange felt their heart liquefy, a sturdy weight blossomed in their chest. They hadn't expected you to be so sweet and... loving? A bashful grin quipped on their lips, this was bad. Incredibly bad. Dangerous, in fact. The beating in their chest was thick with a longing admiration, a deep-set yearn burning in their rib cage.
Similarly, as loud as you felt Hange's heartbeat in your ears, it was rivalling your own. An invisible thread pulling you towards the detective as you felt the most apprehensive you'd felt in decades. Hange was giving you the look, their eyes blown out and sparkling, full of expectation and craving. You dreaded to think that yours matched it. They were looking at you like they were in love, and it was terrifying.
This time, your chest rose and sank. With a part of your lips, you sighed. Feeling your own chest betray the steely damn you'd built over the years, full of distance and hesitance. You failed to find the power to re-build it, not when Hange was looking at you like that.
"That... was really nice," Hange chuckled, an adoring glaze struck in the amber of their eyes. You hummed an agreement, securing the loosened strands of Hange's hair behind their ear. Hange was melting right in front of you, your stern boundaries had been long crossed. You didn't quite know what to do with it.
The slight incline of their jaw towards you indicated that they wanted to kiss you, to make a final connection of your lips. The look in their eyes was so sweet, awaiting you making a closer move. You found that you couldn't resist, the thread dragging you towards their lips as you melded them together.
Hange sighed into the kiss, their arms wrapping around your neck to lure you into their close proximity. After a few seconds of longing connection, after a few swipes of tongue and saliva, Hange's hands travelled down. Lethally slipping their fingers underneath the slit of your skirt, and pulled your thighs apart.
"Hange—wait," you broke the kiss, "You don't owe me anything back, okay?" Hange laughed and shook their head, leaning down to press precarious pecks down the length of your throat, all while their hand inched higher up your silky thigh. "I know."
You had forgotten how much of a determined person Hange is. Truthfully, you were soaked. Had made a mess of your underwear long before you even touched Hange, before you'd even ruined them.
"I just... really want to touch you," Hange muttered, their tongue swiping down to the hollow of your throat. Your skin was set alight again, burning down your cold body as Hange timidly pushed their fingers past your underwear.
"C-can I?" They pleaded, eyes thick with lust, and you nodded.
The fabric shoved to the side to expose your own pulsing heat to Hange, swollen and aching since you first sunk your teeth into Hange. "I mean, shit—you're this wet and I can't touch you?" Hange grumbled, sinking back into delirium as three fingers slipped inside your dewy slit, "Fuck, you feel so nice on my fingers."
You nipped at the corner of your bottom lip, entranced by Hange's keenness. Slowly, you lifted the hem of your shirt, breasts hanging free against your chest. Hange gaped at the sight of you, the stiff peaks edging your breasts and goosebumps rising down your arms. "You're beautiful, fuck,"
"Hange—" you sighed, grabbing a hold of their shoulders when Hange placed your thighs over their hips. Your pelvis began to rock against their fingers, over their hips as they plunged into your walls.
"Fuck—deeper." you ordered, a whiny order but an order nonetheless. Hange loved having you like this, still telling them what to do even if they were the one fucking you.
"I'll do anything you want," Hange promised, their words leaving space for double meanings. It was making you dizzy, they were so eager to please you. All of their own accord.
Hange's dainty fingers pressed further up, curling inwards against your velvet walls, you were using their hand to sate your avid ardour. Losing yourself in the feel of their fingers working so desperately to make you cum.
"You're doing so well, sweetheart—fucking me like that," your tantalising words incentivised the detective with an impassioned thirst. Hange let out little gasps and moans as your pussy sucked their fingers in. Their eyes locked in on the licentious way their fingers were more slicked with your arousal each time they pulled out.
Hange glanced up at you, locking eyes for a moment to catch the minute twitches in your face, before they sunk their head down to wrap their warm mouth around your nipple. Their teeth grazed over the sensitive bud, then licked a few swipes over with their tongue.
"You're so good for me, Hange—fuck—so good, just for me," your voice was breathy, the length of Hange's fingers inside you caused spasms in your abdomen to rip through you. "'m so close, Han—harder-fuck—you're gonna make me come,"
Hange pleaded beneath you, humming with coarse devotion. Whispers of please come for me—need to see you come for me, slipping from their lips. If Hange was hooked, you were even worse off. The pretty detective making you lose any semblance of your own principles as you left yourself attach to them.
With a few more barrages of their fingers against your squishy spot, your hands tightened their grips on Hange's back as you spilled your release over their hand. The muscles in your abdomen convulsed, with a final gasp, you came hard, body trembling above Hange's hips as you slowed your movements against their wrists.
Hange slipped their fingers out of you when they saw your hips steadying. In a daze, you grabbed at their wrist, drawing their soaked fingers along their bottom lip. Hange whined, mouth opening to take them in, lapping up the sweetness of your release coating their drenched digits.
"Every last drop, right?" you huffed, catching your breath and the look Hange gave you made you clench. A perverse profane glance into your eyes as they groaned, muffled by your fingers sitting on their tongue. Hange nodded pathetically in agreement against your hand, almost gagging on your fingers.
You knew you were done for. Hange had worked their way into deep your heart. An ever growing soft spot for the cute detective. Hange had already been aware they were caught in your trap a while ago, it just took you a little longer to catch up.
Neither of you knew what this meant, an uncertain future for both of you. But Hange knew this:
They'd rather have this be the one case they never solved, than ever turn you in.
—
well… here it is, if u spot any errors im sorry 😭
would love to hear ur guys’ feedback!! leaving a comment or any reblogs are greatly appreciated <3333
#can u tell i’ve watched a lot of law and order svu??#also i cant place exactly where the vampire inspo stemmed from its safe to bet that its a combo of every vampire media i’ve ever comsumed#new drinking game: take a shot everytime i say blood skin or bodies#its hard guys 😭 not many words i can use instead#lesbian#hange zoe x reader#hange zoe#hanji zoe x reader#hanji zoe#attack on titan smut#hange zoe x reader smut#lesbian smut
64 notes
·
View notes
Text
better
Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader
summary - you think you don't do enough for the crew so you work harder and train harder to be better. Ace thinks you do plenty already, but supports your decision regardless.
warnings - none
a/n: i hope the person who requested this sees it, because me being a dumbass at 3am, i accidentally deleted the reply to the request. i also hope i got it right!
You could admit that you were not the most useful crewmember of the Whitebeard pirates. In fact, you felt completely useless, like you couldn't contribute anything meaningful or helpful. But you didn't want to be that way, you didn't want to be just a burden to them, even if Ace would constantly remind you that you're not a burden and you were helpful. To him, at least.
But you wanted to be helpful to the entire crew. In fights, you wanted to be able to hold your own without being told to go hide or go check on the injured. You wanted to be able to fight without having to depend on your boyfriend to come save you if you were faced with an opponent.
"(Name) are you even listening?" A deep chuckle met your ears, snapping you out of your thoughts.
You turned away from the shop window, smiling at Ace sheepishly, "I'm sorry, just...lost in thought." The way you said it and the way your smile didn't quite reach your ears alerted Ace to what you were thinking about.
"Hey," he took both your hands and brought you a little closer, "If it bothers you so much, I can always teach you a few things." He looked at the items you were eyeing from the shop and smirked. "Daggers, huh? Come on." He tugged you into the shop to help you choose a set.
-
After a very long few hours choosing a pair of pretty yet lethal daggers (Ace was the indecisive one), you both made your way back to the ship. You were staring at the sharp weapons in your hands, marveling at how dangerous they looked and feeling excited to finally learn to be at least a little bit effective.
"Okay let's start with some basic stances," he began, his hand reaching for your hip to position it. "Place one leg like this, and the other like this." He demonstrated his words, showing you how to stand and how to position your arms.
"Ace," you laughed a few minutes later, "I'm pretty sure my butt does not need to be in any specific position."
His beet-red face popped up in front of you, a coy smile on his lips, "Sorry babe, couldn't help myself."
He spent the rest of the afternoon teaching you basic combat moves and acting as your personal hype man, cheering excessively when you got something right just to boost your confidence. It was working, and you were grateful to have such a supportive and helpful boyfriend.
-
After a few more days of this, you were starting to get the hang of it. Your combat skills had drastically improved, and while you still hadn't managed to beat Ace, there was massive progress and you felt it.
But aside from combat, you also wanted to be more knowledgeable in other fields. Like first aid. In case of emergencies, you wanted to know how to deal with injuries and minor wounds that could be fixed right then and there. You didn't want to be an all-out doctor or medic, but you wanted to have at least a little medical knowledge.
So you took to medical books.
You read everything you could get your hands on, even staying up late at night to study. Sometimes you would even fall asleep at your desk, which is where Ace would find you in the morning. It worried him, but he also didn't want to stop you from learning.
"You should read it to me," he suggested one afternoon, while he was lying in bed with you after having to force you to stop when your eyes started to droop.
"Hmm?" You looked up at him sleepily, "Read what?"
"Those medical books you're reading," his warms hands rested on your stomach, putting you at ease. "You should talk to me about what you learn, it could help you remember."
You smiled when he offered to listen to you, "Are you sure you'll be able to keep up?"
He gasped dramatically, "What do you think I am? Stupid?"
"Yes," you teased.
He feigned offence, playfully scoffing, "I detest that."
"I'm kidding," you laughed, shifting so you could bury your face in his neck. "But thanks for the offer. I might just take you up on that."
And you did. Every time you were reading, Ace was with you whenever he could be. He sat and listened to you explain and discuss the human anatomy, how to dress certain injuries and what steps to take if there wasn't a medic around. He really didn't follow along, and he often fell asleep, but you appreciated the effort he was making to encourage you.
"Aceeeee!" You giggled and flicked his nose gently.
"Wha-?" He jerked awake, eyes flitting around the room before settling on you, and a lovestruck smile formed on his lips. "Oh, hey babe."
"You fell asleep again," you pouted, unable to stop your smile.
"I'm sorryyyyy," he apologised, leaning forward and kissing all over your face. It tickled, and the laughs he pulled from you made him smile. "Carry on, I'm listening now."
"You promise?"
"I promise."
342 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ena's different forms headcanons with you
A/n: the fanmade forms were taken by this post.
This was kinda made for @speadrunner hope you enjoy
Happy ena
We know her we love her, it's classic ena also known as happy ena
It's just her normal form, the one she's in most of the time especially around you:you make her happy after all
Her manner of speaking is a bit hard to understand but you got used to it (and that's kinda the case with most her forms)
She's a walking ray of sunshine ready to make everyone's day better especially yours
"Salutations my darling how are you doing on this fine day?"
"Oh hi ena, I'm doing good how about you?"
"Why I'm doing splendidly especially now that my love is in my field of view"
"Awww thanks"
Sad ena
This is the form she used to turn into the most before she met you, she still gets sad quite often but it's a lot less now that she has you
She doesn't really cry, but she audibly sobs a lot. She also replaces the Rs and some Ls in W resulting in a almost....uwu type of speech which would be admittedly pretty cute if ena wasn't sad
Her self-esteem plummets when she's in this form, often referring to herself as useless, horrible, or just saying she wants to die. You really hate seeing her like this
You always comfort her when she's sad and usually cuddles and kisses always cheer her up and turn her into her normal form
"*sobs* waaaaaahhh I'm so howwible, why do you even love me? No one could love ever wove me"
"Shhhh, just calm down ena, I love you so much, you're perfect, the best girlfriend I could ask for, you deserve all my love and more"
Drunk ena (demon and diablada forms)
This is pretty self explanatory, it's ena when she's drunk. She switches between these two forms seemingly randomly when she's not sober
She doesn't drink that often but when she does she actually acts like a pretty normal drunk person would, stuttering and stringing together random words that barely have any connection to each other (which is kinda how normal ena acts too) if you ignore the fact that she's turning into a demon
She gains weird abilities in these forms, like speaking spanish or spitting fire (it's like her version of a hiccup) you're both impressed and shocked when she does that
One time, she burned your couch with her fire breath while she was drunk, and the next day, she had no idea she did that, so she turned into her sad form and apologized profusely
"......ena are you drunk again?"
".....nuuuuuuo....what ave u talking ajout gahhhhhhh *spits fire* ehehehe"
"*sighs* I just know this is moony's fault somehow"
Dream bbq ena (salesperson and meanie forms)
This is the only ena form that is actually two forms at the same time, the red face is the salesperson form and the white one is the meanie form, and she switches between these two when in this form
Her salesperson personality is well... a salesperson, she tries to sell you stuff you don't really need telling you she added a special discount because you're her lover
Instead, her meanie personality is very similar to her angry form. She yells a lot is kinda mean to you (even if she doesn't really mean it) and stops you from buying the useless stuff her other face is trying to sell you
A hat just appears on her when she's in this form, you have no idea where it comes from or where it goes later, but it looks good on her
[Ena kicks down your door]
"Darling, I have some exquisite new product that you can not miss on, I present to you.....ena dream bbq, an indie game available on steam for the low low price of hejegdjdbgdskd$"
"SHUT UP YOU IDIOT DON'T BUY THAT GAME IT'S NOT EVEN OUT YET"
"...........what?"
Fanmade forms:
Angry ena
This is the form she takes when she's angry, which doesn't happen often, but when it does, it's usually because of moony
She becomes completely red and her eyes become fire PNGs, two demon horns also sprout from her head similar to those in her demon form (she also somehow becomes a lot more muscular in this form, which....You're not complaining about)
She yells a lot, and her screams become so loud you think they hurt your ears when you hear them. She also swears a lot in this form which is very surprising cause she never does that in basically all of her other forms
Like I said earlier she doesn't get angry that often but there's an exception.. When you're involved. Whenever someone hurts or makes you cry she'll turn into her angry formand threaten to beat up whoever did this
"Ahhhhh sorry ena I didn't mean it"
"COME HERE BITCH, HOW DARE YOU INSULT Y/N?"
"B-babe calm down"
Love sick ena
This is actually the form she transforms in the most when she's around you, she can't help it, she loves you soooo much it's too much for her normal form to handle
She becomes bright pink, and her eyes now have hearts inside of them. Her voice also becomes more feminine and sultry, and she becomes softer, like less polygonal, which does make for more comfy cuddles
She cannot stop complimenting and flirting with you in this form. She calls you cutie every minute, telling you how hot and adorable you are, she just wants to squish your cheeks because of how cute you look.
She also is very very touchy and physically affectionate when love sick, she already is pretty clingy in her classic form, but in this form, she's basically glued to you. You will have to force her to be away from you if you want some privacy or wait until she changes forms
[Ena immediately rushes to hug you]
"Hello darling cutie pie, oh how amazing it is to see your beautiful self in all your glory, you look sooooooo cute and hot and any other compliment could possibly exist"
"H-hello to you too love"
Yandere ena
You don't see this form often, it's mostly when you're talking with other girls (especially merci for some reason) that you see ena transform in the distance and you usually go back to her at that point
She looks very similar to her lovesick form but is more of mix between red and pink in color and her heart eyes are more blood colored and uncanny
She just stands there, glaring daggers at the girl you're talking to until you come back to her and then hugs you and whispers "You're mine" in your ears for a while, then change to one of her other forms (usually happy or lovesick)
She will never actually kill someone, both because she's too sweet to and she doesn't really know how to, and the sheer thought of hurting you makes her sick. If someone hurts you she might consider teaching them a lesson though
"Darling, why were talking to that mime again?"
"Oh sorry, she was just asking me something"
"I see but don't forget, you're mine alright, I will always love you, you don't need anyone else ok?"
"Y-yeah"
#ena x reader#ena joel g x reader#joel g ena#ena joel g#joel g#x reader#joel g ena x reader#gn reader#ena forms#headcanons
90 notes
·
View notes
Text
Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead’s Sister-in-Law!
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 10 11 12 13 14
Chapter 9
‘Slight’ Yandere! Dion Agriche x Fem! Reader
Arranged marriage AU
Warnings: thoughts about self-harm (biting thumb again), accidental self-injury(? + biting inside of lip which causes it to bleed), thoughts about implied murder, near panic attack, implied depression, slight blood, small/slight themes of obsession and possessiveness, slight themes of misogyny/some toxic behavior from Reader's family, please tell me if I missed any.
Nsfw warnings: OKAY, I honestly think Maria, if she becomes fond of a daughter-in-law, would absolutely push for grandchildren and take things into her own hands unless someone (Sierra) tries really hard to convince her otherwise. I’m really sorry for writing her as a creep but this will be the last time (either completely or for a very long time) I’ll write her like this. Anyway: suggestive, throwback to their 1st night, gifting of lingerie and aphrodisiac by Maria (again will not write her like this either completely or a long time, I tried rewriting this chapter so fucking much but this is what I settled on because it felt the most natural to me.) pushing for grandchildren, Maria somehow got the Reader’s measurements, please tell me if I missed any.
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE HARMFUL AND/OR DANGEROUS/TOXIC ACTIONS AND/OR BEHAVIORS THAT TAKE PLACE IN THIS PIECE OF FICTION. THESE ACTIONS/BEHAVIORS SHOULD NOT BE NORMALIZED NOR ROMANTICIZED AS THEY ARE BOTH EXTREMELY TOXIC AND DANGEROUS.
MINORS/BLANK BLOGS/BLOGS THAT DO NOT INTERACT OR REBLOG ANYTHING FANDOM RELATED (FICS, ART, ETC.) DNI.
===
‘Dear father and mother,
I am doing well so far. The food is nice and the clothes comfortable. I haven’t personally spoken to my father-in-law yet, but I’m going to meet him for dinner tomorrow at the time of writing this. My husband, Dion is different from what I expected. Too nice. He’s not as brutal as others described him. It was surprising. But he’s a pervert and I almost hit him out of frustration and rejected his sexual advances like any sane person would. I know that you’ll say I should have let it happen, mother, but it hurt so bad I don’t think he’ll ever fit. Speaking of those vulgar activities, you lied he wasn’t flustered in the slightest until I started crying. Can you believe that? He’s a creep! But hopefully he doesn’t kill or torture me he’ll continue to treat me nicely.
Of course, as his wife I’ll do my best to support him in fear of him or Lant killing me otherwise in every field to the best of my abilities. Just how you forced taught me.
I have talked to a few in-laws, including my mother-in-law. I heard that you drank with her, mother. She's very lively and has a sadistic unique personality. She’s very sweet to me. I have also met the fourth wife, Sierra. She’s lovely, I think you’ll also get along with her, mother.
I hope that the two of you are faring well. The same goes for Zac and Elena, of course. Speaking of them, how has Zac’s studies been? He’s not skipping them again, is he or planning something dangerous like that stupid but well-meant plan he informed you, father, about? Yes, I overheard everything?
Is Elena doing well in her pregnancy? I know she moved out before me, but I’m still concerned about her and the baby. And Albert, he’s taking care of her, right?
I’m not sure what else to write, so I’ll just leave it here. Please take care of yourselves. The same goes for my brother and sister.
Your daughter, (Name)’
“... I ended up writing what I really think… I need to rewrite this… again.” You sigh, leaning back in your chair as you crumble the letter. This was your fifth try, and while each one became less hostile and more casual, you weren't satisfied with any of the rough drafts to turn into a final draft.
If you weren’t married to Dion, into this family, would writing to them be easier? You shake your head. No point in having these useless thoughts. Especially as Hana comes in with a knock and your permission, rolling in your lunch.
In the end, you ended up going with Hana’s suggestion - basically saying that your husband fucked you too hard and rough last night and you needed to recover. Thanks to that, you didn’t have to change into the scarlet dress she picked out either - it was decided to be saved for the dinner you’ll have with both your husband and father-in-law tomorrow.
You already asked Hana for indigestion medicine for tomorrow.
“Thank you, Hana,” you put your stationary away and picked up the crumbled balls of paper that were failed attempts. She eyes you curiously but doesn’t comment on it. Instead she readies your lunch, placing the plates onto the table.
The thought of eating makes you sick. You could barely hold down breakfast - could you hold down lunch? Or would your body give up immediately and reject the food?
Warily looking at it, you notice two prettily wrapped up boxes - one pink with light red polka dots, the bow purple in color. The second box, a flatter one, had red wrapping paper with a tiny black hearts pattern, with the bow also black. Your heart speeds up as your gut twists painfully. If they were meant for you, they contain nothing well meant nor innocent.
“Oh, right,” Hana starts before handing both ‘presents’ to your unwelcoming arms, “Lady Maria sent these to you. I don’t know what they are, unfortunately.” With a grave look on your face you shakily thank her, a pained and forced smile stretching your lips.
Maria sent these… oh boy, I sure do wonder what they are…
“Later today, please help me pick out a gift for her. It’s only right that I repay the favor, especially since she’s my mother-in-law.” Placing them down next to your feet, you ignore the urge to kick them far, far away from you. It’s hard to keep your eyes off of the boxes. It’s hard to focus on your food, picking up your fork and knife as you cut into the grilled fish.
It’s hard to chew, accidentally biting your lip hard enough to taste blood. It’s hard to drink the water as it threatens to choke you. It’s hard to not wince at the sharp sounds of cutlery against the plate as you imagine your head being chopped off like nothing.
It’s hard to breathe.
How much longer until you go crazy?
By the time you finish your meal, you’re sweating buckets. You hate it here. You want to go home -
“My Lady, are you alright?” Hana’s voice drags you out from your thoughts, flicking your eyes to meet hers. She’s picking up the silverware and placing it back onto the tray, but quickly takes a clean napkin from it and hands it to you. You take it with shaky hands, doing your best not to drop it. Thankfully your brain didn’t lag for too long for you to realize it was for your sweat.
You pat down your temples with the white cloth.
“T-thank you… v-very much, Ha-Hana.” Why is your voice so shaky? Why are you stuttering? Hell, why are you sweating?
You already had one panic attack - you don’t need another one. Your right thumb throbs at the memory and your teeth want to clamp down on it. The bandages suddenly feel too tight around the digit and you want to rip it off so you could dig your teeth into it. You bite your lip, only worsening the newly formed wound. The taste of your own blood spreads throughout your mouth again.
You need to stop.
Your attention switches to Hana, the woman staring at you uncertainly. It wasn’t necessarily out of concern but rather confusion - just how was she supposed to comfort her master? …you’re probably putting her in a rough spot.
…right. I just need to accept my new reality… but today is not going to be that day.
Taking in a deep breath, you force your nerves to settle down - positive thoughts, positive thoughts. The sun is warm, the birds are lively, the bed is comfortable, your husband is gone -
This isn’t the first time, and clearly it won’t be the last.
“...thank you for bringing the food, Hana.” You’re not fully composed, not fully right of mind, but as the saying goes: fake it until you make it. You did it once, you managed to do it throughout the duration of the engagement, during the wedding despite feeling horrible, you did it while consummating your marriage despite being ripped open by Dion, you did it while at the tea party with Maria and Sierra, you did it last night when you told him off.
You did it back then, too.
Force yourself to smile now. Tilt your head innocently. Act happy. Act happy.
“I enjoyed it. Please give my thanks to the chief.” Your smile isn’t bright as the sun and slightly wavers. Your eyes aren’t shining brightly like stars, instead seeing past her. Your mind isn’t calm as you recall the brutality of this family that was shown and described in the story.
Fake it until you make it.
Yes, you think. Maybe you will have a conversation with Roxana.
- - -
Hana left an hour ago yet you haven’t moved from your spot. No, instead you’re staring intensely at the presents in front of you on the table. They’re pretty, a bit childish. But knowing Maria…
“...is it a trap…?” Carefully, you pick up the stereo typical present box and lightly shake it; it rattles. “Sounds a bit heavy… like a box within a box.” Curiosity gets the better of you and you gingerly untie the purple bow before ripping the wrapping paper. Despite the damn thing nearly sending you into another panic episode, it was satisfying to unwrap.
A slightly smaller box is what you see once you manage to open the outer one. It was black and had a fancy red bow. Still a good size not to be something small. Unless it was a perfume. Breathing in deeply, you undo the ribbon and take off the lid.
You’re met with a glass container roughly the size of your hand. Your heart drops at the yellow liquid inside.
It looks exactly like the aphrodisiac your mother-in-law gave Roxana in the manhwa.
“...what in the actual fuck… she’s basically telling, no, begging me to fuck her son… haha!” Your head rolls back as laughter overtakes you and shoulders violently shake. “I knew she was crazy, but fuck, how morally corrupt is this woman?”
Instead of throwing it across the room like you should, you place it down on the table. You would have slammed it down if there wasn’t a chance that just smelling it could cause your body to heat up and become needy for a thing - a person - you don’t even want.
“I’m scared to open up the other ‘present’...” in spite of that you pull at the black bow and unwrap it. You shake it - sounds like something soft. Like clothes.
Oh.
Oh no, no, no, no, no no -
“She didn’t. No fucking way… maybe it’s a sweater. Or a shawl. Gloves?”
Trembling fingers take the lid off, a pink ribbon undone easily. This time, you throw the box to the floor after seeing what it held.
A sheer black babydoll lingerie set.
“Maria Agriche… you fucking creep…,” without another thought you shut the lid on it and shoved it into one of your drawers on your side of the dresser. Away from sight, out of mind you chant in your head, slamming the drawer shut. Your cheeks feel warm as both embarrassment and disgust fill your head and chest.
… even if you wanted to sleep with him… or if you were in a healthy marriage with someone you love…
“...I could never wear that… it’s too revealing, too embarrassing.” Even in your old world you never wore such things. Not because you viewed them as dirty or slutty, but because they don’t suit you. Besides, putting in so much effort just for it to be taken off…?
‘I’m only going to ask once - would you rather keep your clothes on or off?’
“MMMMFFFF!!” throwing yourself onto the bed at the memory, scream muffled by the pillow, you mentally curse both son and mother. The son because he made your first time so horrible you’re mentally scarred and the mother because she’s a creep. More so than her own fucking son.
A few minutes later you manage to collect yourself somewhat. Dreadfully you go to the dresser to pull out the offending clothing. You don’t plan on putting it on or to hold it over your clothes to get a vague idea of it either. Just to get a better look at it.
Opening it and picking up the article of clothing, you examine it; pretty lace details on the him and breast cups, a flower pattern. It was soft as silk - clearly made from expensive materials. The straps were thin but they didn't feel too rough or stiff. Probably comfortable on the shoulders.
Not like you would know - you never tried anything like this on.
Curiosity killing the cat, you decide to see where it ends by holding it over your clothes; it barely brushes past mid thigh.
When you go to put it back you notice an envelope and panties in the box. First, you pick up the lacy underwear, frowning as you realize that somehow, someway Maria had gotten your fucking measurements. Did your mother also tell the crazed woman your three sizes… “No, she wouldn’t. Even if she was drunk, she wouldn’t tell anyone such private details.”
Carelessly dropping it into the box you grab the letter, opening it after a moment of hesitation. It takes even longer to unfold the letter. And even longer to actually read it, only for horror to come across your face and enter your heart.
‘Sierra told me it may come across as inappropriate to send such things to you… but I’m just so excited for grandchildren! Oh, but don’t feel pressured into wearing or drinking those things tonight. The aphrodisiac lasts a rather long time. Besides, considering it’s Dion, I thought you might need some help to get in the mood whenever you decide to lay with him.
- Maria’
“No. Never.”
Shoving everything back in, you shut the drawer close, making sure to hide the items underneath some layers of your… underwear…
You give up.
“Ahh, why and how did I stumbled into the scene…” You turn around only to notice the yellow liquid contained in the glass bottle. Right. You forgot about that. “Maybe I should just pour it out…”
Not once did you realize nor notice how all the fear and fright left your body and mind, instead leaving caution and annoyance in its wake.
- - -
Your husband returned at midnight, small amounts of blood splattered on his left cheek. When you look up from your book to greet him you notice that in the candlelight his eye bags seem darker. Deeper.
“...welcome…back.” Your body starts to quiver and your heart beats loud enough you could hear and feel it once you meet his eyes. Quickly scanning his person you notice he’s wearing the standard male servant uniform:
black shirt with red rimmed shoulder pads that have the Agriche crest on top, the shirt long enough to reach below his knees and splits at the hips, tied together with a brown belt at the waist. If he were to turn around you would see the family crest proudly engraved into the fabric. Blank pants that disappear into nearly knee-height boots with long, tied laces.
The last time you’ve seen him in that uniform was the first time you met him, bored expression plastered on his face as Lant introduced him with a smug smile on that disgusting face of his. All he did was shake your hand as you stood still with prayers to a God who held no love for you. With your father glancing your way every minute as you were left in some corner with your then fiance to hold a conversation that never happened. When he didn’t spare so much as a glance at you, instead staring off into space as you couldn’t take your eyes off your lap.
Wait.
No.
Maybe back then, you were too deep in your thoughts to notice that unnerving stare.
The same one he has now - looking at you as though you were his prey, scarlet eyes glowing in the candlelight, like you belonged to him and he would never change that fact. That he would never let you change it, either.
“Wife.”
The word mixed with his sleepy voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard - it makes your ears bleed and eye twitch as you hold back the grimace of how he addresses you. He only wants you because you’re a normal person.
The moment you become insane he’ll let you go.
That’s the only explanation. It has to be. That’s the only explanation your brain could come up with and accept.
You’re too scared to bring up the night before yesterday. Beads of sweat slowly roll down your temples and breathing shallow as Dion walks towards the bed, heavy boots echoing. Time stops as your heart drops once he reaches the bed, reaches you and without a single word, he grabs your right wrist and -
“What happened here?”
Oh. You forgot about your bandaged thumb.
#yandere x reader#dion agriche#dion agrece#dio agriche x reader#dion agrece x reader#yandere dion x reader#yandere dion agriche x reader#yandere dion agrece x reader#yandere dion agriche#yandere dion agrece#the way to protect the female lead's older brother#twtptflob#twtptflob x reader#yandere twtptflob#yandere the way to protect the female leads older brother#roxana#male yandere#yandere twtptflob x reader
60 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mostly screaming into the void with this one but I'm almost to the end of earning my Bachelor's and I've got something to say.
It is not edgy or subversive to redirect your hatred onto animals that you deem morally impure or to try and yassify misunderstood creatures.
"Sea otters assault their females to death and drown their pups" they are still a cornerstone species worth protecting and whole ecosystems are suffering for the loss of them.
"Sharks are just ocean puppies and big sweeties." No they're not, they are apex predators and you have to treat them with respect. Saying they're not capable of aggression or completely misunderstood is still spreading misinformation, you cannot generalize a group of animals like this.
"Dolphins are super smart and actually capable of understanding that some of their behaviors are evil" I am actually going to break into your house and steal your shoes if you say this to me.
"Charismatic megafauna are useless and overrated and taking away from underappreciated species that Really need our help" wrong again dipshit. Animals like pandas, elephants, whales, and others that I'm sure you're tired of seeing plastered everywhere are important to get the general public involved. It's called PR (and while I wish it wasn't necessary and that people would care regardless I digress) and what conservation work IS done based around them is advantageous to other threatened species that share their habitat.
As someone going into the field of ecological conservation and marine biology, I have met one too many people who think it's okay to say a certain animal doesn't deserve to be protected because it makes them feel yucky or just because they think it doesn't deserve it. I shouldn't have to tell you why that is SO not okay. The underappreciated and overrated can both exist, you don't need to proselytize people into hating dolphins just so sharks can get their dues.
You're also allowed to just dislike an animal! But if you sensationalize their behaviors that are morally incorrect by human standards, then I am begging you to reevaluate yourself, get more educated on the subject, and talk to a real ecologist.
No creature on this planet deserves to be eradicated just because you are personally offended by their natural behaviors or deem them unfit to take up space.
#ecology#marine biology#idk man im tired of seeing busted ass takes like this#esp when they come from my peers who are self proclaimed animal lovers#and then incapable of critically analyzing their narrow minded views of conservation and ecology#this goes for invasive species as well btdubs#those species did not choose to be here and if you take pleasure in their eradication I am judging you severely#managing them is a necessity and there should be no joy taken in the loss of life of these creatures#they deserve your respect regardless#that last one is @ those “wildlife influencers” in florida who think it's fun to torture invasive pythons for views#commentary
236 notes
·
View notes