#and i don't know my thoughts around this could change after a reread but for the time being this unhinged opinion shall stay here

[pebblesmustard]

I don't think I can ever describe it decently enough but finding a kindred spirit (of sorts) between two authors' voices (especially when they are so distinct from one another and unique to themselves) is so magical.

[edgeray]

I just read your dragon arle x dragon hunter reader fic and I can't stop rereading it. Can I request either the dragon sibs & arlecchino's pov of the fic or a continuation of the fic (either of just reader's daily life now that they've been adopted by a dragon family or of arlecchino and (maybe) the dragon babies having human forms and surprising the reader with them (maybe both))?

Also could I be 🏹 anon? (I'm not the one who requested dragon arle x dragon hunter reader but damn do I wish I was)

Dragon Hunter Mother Part 2

(Arlecchino x Fem! Reader)

A/N -  Part 1 here I'M BACKKKKKKKKKK. Okay, wow, uh, hi, anons! Yes, you can be 🏹 anon, I added you to the list a while ago. To the anon that was asking for readers to fight off other dragon hunters, if you request again, give yourself a name/emoji like my other wonderful anons :). 🍎 anon, I'm not sure what you mean by real form, but I had the real form for Arlecchino as her human form.  If it wasn't clear, I thought I was just going to combine all three of these into one part, hopefully that's okay with you guys. I wrote this as best as I could. I didn't think the dragon au! would be so liked but guess the world building I pulled from my ass paid off. Reader will be fem just like the first part. Hopefully you guys like this sequel! And hope the world building for this is okay. I don't know why, but I decided to put an excessive amount of stupid world building that probably doesn't make sense… Also made the babies smaller (and I changed this in the first part too) so cuddling them can be better <33 sorry this took so long... hopefully the length makes up for it. 🫶 this makes the longest request I've done so far, and somehow I wrote all of this today... Content warnings / info - creature x reader, arlecchino is a dragon. fem reader, graphic violence, you get called a bitch (sorry), 3.9k words

Being kidnapped adopted by a family of dragons was not on your bucket list, but here you are. At the beginning, you considered running– after all, you had no idea if you were just going to be emergency dragon food or something, though logically you knew that dragons didn't eat humans. You were a hunter, and you were on a job, but you couldn't find it within yourself to pick up the sword again. Not only would that be foolish because there was no fathomable way for you to beat the Father dragon, but the trio of younglings had grown on you in such a short amount of time. It's only been a few weeks, and you feel like you've quickly adjusted to this weird, but cozy family nonetheless. 

The first night you met the dragons quickly became a fond memory to recall back to. What transpired during that night was this: after the babies had successfully calmed down their Father, their Father sat up, growling something to the hatchlings. The large dragon began striding in the direction of where it came from, and the babies left your side to follow. Confusion struck you and you approached the Father dragon.

“Hey, wait, where are you guys–” your own yelp interrupted you as the larger dragon's tail coiled around, picking you up like you were no more than a leaf. You squirmed in its grasp until you were dropped onto the Father’s head. Your eyes widened upon realizing what they were going to do, and you cling onto one of the spikes on the dragon’s head for dear life. The Father dragon flaps its wings a few times, striding backwards, and then begins running. The movements nearly threw you off of the dragon had you not white-knucle gripped onto it, and then you feel the rushing of wind all over you, threatening to blow you away. Your eyes burned from the oncoming torrent, and you shutted your eyes as the frigid night air whips around you, just praying to your archons that you remain alive after this. 

You didn’t know how long you squeezed your eyes shut, but by the time the icy gusts stopped pricking at your skin–only just caressing your skin like a gentle embrace–it’s when you finally opened your eyes. A black canvas dotted with various bright specks greeted your vision, and you gaped silently. You’ve always thought that the night was beautiful, but up close, you were sure of it; it’s entrancing and no short of magnificent. The beating organ inside of your chest thumped rhythmically, and you thought that if you reached out your hand, you would be able to feel the stars on your fingertips. 

You heard a croak beside you and you recalled that you were among dragons. You looked down. The dragon below you tilted their head towards you, glaring back at you over its wings, piercing crossed eyes scrutinizing you. Sheepishly smiling, you rub its head gently with your hand, and you could physically feel it shiver. You relaxed your hold, leaning forward and allowing your front to press against its scale to rest. Turning your head to the side, you watch miniature dragons fly, somehow keeping up with their father. You tentatively peeked down to see how high up you are, and your stomach churned uneasily. Distracting yourself from the terrifying height you’re at, how you can barely see the peaks of the coniferous trees, you try to think where they were taking you. Surely… you weren’t going to be stowed away in their den as emergency food… right? The babies would protect you… hopefully. 

The rest of the ride was smooth; somehow you had not fallen off. They took you to a cave at the base of the mountain in the center of the forest. Inside the cavern, the ground was matted with wool. This must have come from the sheeps that the Father dragon reportedly stole from the nearby villages. You assumed that this is a nest. The red one (should you just give them names instead of referring to them by their colors? You'll call the red one “Ruby” for now), nudged the back of your leg towards the nest, before its siblings leapt into it. Like cats, “Aqua” (short for Aquamarine) circled around a certain area before laying down, its sibling, “Amber,” following it and curling beside it. 

You gazed at “Father” to check for any signs of protest, but it too steps towards the nest before laying down. Its massive body took up the majority of the nest, and it used its tail to gently push “Aqua” and “Amber” closer to it. Seemed like there was no protest from Father. Hesitantly, you approached the nest, feeling like you just stepped onto sacred grounds you didn't belong to. Tentatively, you laid on your side and Ruby went to snuggle against its other siblings. 

Soon, the babies’ snores filled the cavern. Sleep was hard to come by, especially since you were still in your armor and the matting wasn't very comfortable. The cold didn't help either. You ended up just gazing at the wilderness beyond the cave, observing the crescent moon. Eventually, your body became sore from the uncomfortable position, and you figured that slumber wouldn’t come to you soon anyways. Standing up, you made your way towards the exit, just to stretch your legs and take some fresh air. 

Leaning against the entrance, your thoughts ran rampant with wonderings. 

Should you run away? Did you even want to run away? What about your family? What about your job? Well… your family cared about your other siblings more anyways and it wasn't like you liked your job–you've always wanted a break from it. You doubt you could run away from them if you did; dragons had an impressive sense of smell and you wouldn't get very far in this terrain anyways. The babies specifically seemed especially fond of you, and their father tolerated you enough… maybe they had adopted you as their family? If so, then… What was wrong with having a serene life with dragons? 

Well, assuming, again, that they didn't want to eat you. But you didn't want to go back. That life of glory was for someone else. You'd rather live quietly and cozily, even if you were dirt poor. 

“Do you not intend on running away?” 

Your blood froze from the sudden voice, coming from behind you. You whipped around to see a human–no, something that looked like a human–advancing, and you took a step back. You notice the missing large dragon from the nest, only the hatchlings remain, unaware of their missing father. This… creature looked human (a rather pale, tall, and handsome female human) with two spiky, blackhorns peaking above her predominantly white strands, a draconic black and red tail loosely curled around her legs, and black forearms and clawed hands. But the moment you locked eyes with red x-eyes, you knew who she was. Or more like, what she was. 

She was, perhaps, the most breathtaking being you've ever seen, the moonlight making her seem elysian. The embodiment of perfection, for both human and beast, with her voice belonging to those of angels. 

But she was still a dragon, and that thought threw you back to reality. 

“You're human… but a dragon,” you stated matter-of-factly, your flusteredness apparent in your voice.

Her face remained as stoney as her dragon form. “You're correct, Miss Dragon Hunter.” 

This was new. Even if you had extensively researched dragons, you never knew of this. “How?”

“Is that something I should be telling a dragon hunter?” 

You bit your lip. “Is this how ancient dragons were able to stay hidden from us?” You wondered out loud.

“Precisely.” 

“If your human form is female-presenting… Does that mean you're a female dragon? But why? Female dragons take… well, a maternal role, but you serve the paternal role. I thought… that you were a male dragon.” 

“I am indeed a female dragon. However… I never sought out a mate, and so I could not produce my own children. The children,” she gestured at the sleeping hatchlings. “were runts when I found them. Like myself, they had no paternal figure, and the maternal figure naturally abandoned them after birth, so I stepped in.”

You nodded. “Why… did you not kill me?” 

“You fed them. And, with that, I believe they saw you as the maternal figure they lacked. They would be saddened if I killed you. But… considering that you’re a dragon hunter… it's quite a shame,” she remarked threateningly as she extended out her claws, nearing you. Your heart thundered in your ears, fear pumping through every vein. She was going to kill you? 

“Wait, wait. I'll give up. I won't go back. I swear,” you state, stepping back. 

“And why should I believe you?” 

Quickly, you removed the chainmail armor off of you, and with great effort, ripped out the patch stitched onto your shoulder pad. You chucked the armor into a forsaken direction, before you offered the patch to her. “This… this is a symbol of my occupation as a dragon hunter. Without it, I'm nobody. It’s my proof that I'm a dragon hunter. If I don't have it, I can't get any kill orders or receive any weapons or additional aid.”

The dragon raised her brow. A clawed hand took the patch from your hand, before a fire erupted from her palm, effortlessly burning it into ashes. “But how do I know you won't attempt to hurt my family?” She growled.

“I wouldn't. I've… never wanted to be a dragon hunter. I was born into a prestigious dragon hunter family, and I was expected to hunt myself. But… I never wanted to kill dragons.” You tilted your head down, breaking eye contact from her in favor of looking at your feet. 

The dragon stalked towards you until she was only a few inches away. Even in human form, she still towered over you. She pulled you with her tail, which winded around your midsection tightly until she was flushed against you. She gripped your chin in between her clawed fingers. 

“I'll be watching you myself. For now, my children enjoy your presence. But if a single one of them cries so much because of you, know that you will be killed, mercilessly and painfully. Do you understand that, human?”  

“Yes…” You paused when you realized you didn't have her name. You looked at her expectedly. 

“It's Arlecchino.” 

“Yes, Arlecchino. I understand.” Her name sounded right on your tongue.

“Good. Come now, the children are rather quick on noticing my absence from the nest.” Arlecchino expressed, turning back.

“I think I'll stay out here for a while. It's hard for me to fall asleep… it's a bit cold for humans,” you sheepishly admitted. “I'll come back when I'm more tired, I promise.” 

Arlecchino turned around to observe you, noticing your shivering form and the goosebumps on your skin. “I believe I have a solution. Come,” she said, offering her hand towards you. 

You took her hand, and she laid you to the nest again. She laid down on her side first, before urging you to follow her. The nest was comically large compared to the two of you and the baby dragons now that she was in her human form. As you set yourself down, back facing her, clawed hands found their way around your waist before hauling you towards her, her chest pressed against your spine. You hear the flap of a wing, and then the wing is casted over the two of you, acting as a makeshift blanket. You gasped as her hot breath tickled your earlobe, the tips of your ears burning. “Warm enough for you now, human?”

You still had trouble sleeping that night, but for a different reason. 

— 

You learned of the hatchlings' names the day after. Translated to human language from the draconic tongue, “Ruby” was actually Lyney, and his siblings Lynette and Freminet, “Aqua” and “Amber” respectively. Their personalities shone through pretty quickly the longer you stayed with them. 

Lyney, undoubtedly, was the most energetic and clingy, in an endearing way. Always the first one up and stirring up trouble, alongside his younger brother, Freminet–even though Freminet was the shy, considerate one. Lynette was quiet but always present, comparable to a cat when Lyney acted the most like a puppy, and Freminet, a deer. Lyney had once nearly burned down the nest out of sheer eagerness when you surprised them by arriving at the cave with fish when they had just woken up. It didn't take you long to realize that cod was Lyney's favorite, even when you didn't understand dragon language. 

Arlecchino warmed up to you eventually. The first night helped a lot, and so did the children. Standoffish at first, once she realized you had the best intentions in mind for her children she was begrudgingly softer with you. The ‘nestling’ (as the children resorted to calling it after Freminet saw it, having woken up in the middle of the night when Lyney's tail accidentally whacked him) became a nightly occurrence, and you couldn't say that you were complaining. It became evident to yourself that you were attracted to Arlecchino. She was wordlessly sweet, and attentive to you, but especially the children. A powerful, ancient dragon practically bowing down to dragons five times smaller than her was amusing to witness. 

You were able to dissuade Arlecchino's attempts from visiting the nearby villages now that you were able to get the food for the hatchlings. Arlecchino had stopped visiting villages once she was able to obtain a human form, which allowed her to more efficiently metabolize food unlike beforehand. However, upon taking care of the Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet, she needed much more than what the forest could provide, hence the frequent visits. 

Arlecchino did eventually tell you how her human form came to be. Dragons are, first and foremost, creatures created with magic, and so also hold magic. There are two different maturities that dragons reach in their lifetime. The physical maturity, which is when their wings are fully developed and they reach the age when they no longer have to be sheltered. Then, there is the magical maturity, when they learn to properly utilize the magic they're born with once enough magic has been culminated internally over the years. Dragons reach magical maturity after their second molt, and shapeshifting is the most common application; though most dragons like Arlecchino use human forms in order to assimilate into human society. It explains why ancient dragons are rarely ever seen. Draconic magic is unlike anything you've ever seen, incomparable to how humans use it–you couldn't even wrap your head around it. Either way, once Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet reach of age, they too will have human forms. You wondered what they would look like. 

Your life is simple, albeit a bit boring, but nonetheless, you couldn't love it more. You have children that keep you on your toes, and you have… well, Arlecchino, your personal heater at night. It's the cozy life you've always wanted, though you'd like for the nest to be more comfortable, and considerably warmer. 

It's why you’re currently at a nearby town, buying more wool with the money that you had when you were still a dragon hunter. You had traveled with Arlecchino to your hometown to retrieve the money you secretly stashed away, which could have bought a large house in the center of the town. At least, being a dragon hunter wasn't entirely useless. 

You buy your wool and head towards the edge of the forest that bordered the town. The children were waiting for you there, wanting to see what new treats you were getting them. Last time was grilled steak. This time it's dried fruits. It'd be the first time that they tried dried fruits, you hope that they'll like them. As you treach back to where you told them to stay, you notice footprints in the dirt– footprints that weren't yours, and there were multiple of them. All of them seemed to belong to men. Terror struck you in an instant. Why were there people here? People rarely come here. No, it should be fine, it’s just foragers, right? 

Anxiety grips at you as you continue, but it's quickly dispelled once you find the dragons, all safe and sound. You exhale and giggle as Lyney leaps into your arms, while Lynette brushes against your leg and Freminet perches on top of your head. 

“Freminet, you're heavy–” you stop when something snaps behind you. Immediately, you set down Lyney and Freminet before turning around, and your worst fears come to fruition as your sight lands on a group of men coming from the bushes, familiar swords and armor gleaming in the sunlight. Your stomach drops upon the realization. Dragon hunters. And there's about ten of them. Ten of them versus one of you. 

You step in front of the dragons immediately, your hand trailing to the small knife in your pocket. 

“Hey, the old man was right. Following that bitch would lead us to the dragons,” one of them said. “How much is for each head?”

“Well, babies are rare. So a few million Mora per head. Can be ten times more if we get them alive.”

“Get your Father,” you whisper to them, as you push the dragons. They croak worriedly at you, their teeth tugging on your boot for you to come with them. 

“Go!” You yelled a little more assertively. Lynette and Freminet fly off to the direction of the cave, while Lyney remains. You were about to shoo off Lyney too, but then you hear the sound of a bow being drawn. 

It's like you suddenly become possessed, your body moving on automatically as you charge at the archer, short knife in hand. You knock his hand away, making their arrow shoot astray instead of at one of the dragons still flying, before you slit his throat. You narrowly dodge one of the swordsmen's strike, his long-blade an inch away from your chest. Another one from behind you swings, and this time it cuts your side, only shallowly so. You're thankful that your dragon hunter instincts and reflexives are still imprinted on your body, as that's the only thing keeping you alive and allowing you to dodge them. Though they all seem like amateur dragon hunters, compared to you who was the best out of your year, there were still many more of them than you

Another archer draws his bow, but you're still preoccupied with dodging. This foraging knife can barely do shit, and you're hardly able to fend off against the ones surrounding you. The group of dragon hunters split off, half of them chasing towards where Lynette and Freminet went while the other half is currently fighting you.  

No, no, you can't reach him in time, what if he hits Lyney or Freminet–

Fire abruptly emerges, scalding the archer's face making him cry out. The fallen archer's scream successfully distracts the men around you, and you weasel your way out, grabbing Lyney who’s in the process of breathing out fire again and running. You drop your backpack to allow you to run better, but not before making sure you chuck it at one of the hunters. 

“Good job, Lyney,” you praise the hatchling in your arms, stroking his head. 

You had to make sure the group in front didn't find the cave. Lynette and Freminet aren't fast flyers, their wings aren't nearly developed yet. You fear that more archers are with the group in front. Thanks to the lack of weight on you, you're able to evade the ones behind quickly, and catch up to the half of the hunters that had run off earlier. 

The sound of their own footsteps mask yours, and you’re able to stab the swordsman that's lacking behind in the neck, before stealing his sword. His scream attracts the attention from the other hunters and they spin around to face you. Good, they won't be focused on the other dragons now. 

“Lyney, go, please. Your siblings need their big brother,” you whispered, giving the hatchling one more stroke on the head before throwing him up in the air. Lyney, this time, obeys you, flying away but not before giving you one more glance back. It’s just you and five hunters in front of you, another three coming soon. The archers are the most pressing concern, as you rush at them. However, two swordsmen block you from them. 

“No!” You scream as the archers take aim, their arrows aimed at Lyney. You throw your knife, past the blade-wielding hunters and into the back of the head of one of the archers. However, that action cost you your arm getting cut, a long slash down the side of your forearm. You hiss, backing away, but the three of them quickly surround you. There’s still a single archer left. 

“Fuck, what are you even protecting those stupid reptiles anyways? Just tell us where they live and we'll let you live!” 

You only grit your teeth and ready your sword. The only way you can get to the last archer is if you brute force your way, but you can't. You hear footsteps approaching from behind, and the remaining three are already here. 

“We need her alive for now, so she can tell us where it is,” you hear one of them say.

The idea starts settling inside of you–that you're going to die, if it continues like this. You’re not going to tell them where the cave is obviously, even with whatever sick torture they have in plan for you. But were you willing to die now? After you've just achieved the life you had always wanted? You just wanted to live a peaceful life… was this your karma for being a dragon hunter? You swallow thickly, trying to imagine not seeing the hatchlings again or even Arlecchino. In the short time you’ve spent with them, you really have seen them as your own, your family. Ironic that you end up dying for dragons when you yourself were a dragon hunter, huh?

Continuing fighting would be pointless. You’re dead either way, why struggle more? Still… the children are safe. It'd be okay. It'd be okay. They've survived before you, and they'll continue to survive after. Dying would be okay. 

You close your eyes, trying to blink the tears away. It'll be okay, it'll be–

A roar booms through the forest, and then a loud boom, the ground shaking violently underneath you, causing you to tumble onto the floor harshly. In front of you, on top of the crushed bodies of the former dragon hunters, the dragon form of Arlecchino appears. You quickly run to her side, grasping onto one of her legs. Soon, dark red flames escape out of her throat, enveloping the last of the hunters and then, all ten hunters are dead, just like that. 

Once the last hunter falls, Arlecchino immediately turns into her human form, holding you in her arms. You collapse into her arms, the exhaustion from the running and fighting weighing down on you as the adrenaline quickly disappears. 

“The… children?” you're able to pant out as you look up at her. 

“They're safe.” Her eyes hold gratitude towards you. “I thought I lost you.”

“I'm okay, Arlecchino, I promise. Just a few cuts,” you reassure her with a smile, nuzzling into her neck. She sighs and kisses the top of your head. 

“I’m not letting you go anywhere without me anymore.”

“Fine…” 

[egcdeath]

hello hello how are u!!?

i’ve been rereading a few of ur fics hehe i just wanna say that i love ur writing omfg like yes plz i wanna eat the words

ok ok so i’d love to know ur thoughts on a bully!patrick x reader?? he’s just so cocky and i’d love to see what would happen if he pushed *juuuuuust* a bit further…

maybe it’s their college years and he is practically jeering and ragging at the reader while she’s at her sports practice. i think patrick would like the way her face scrunches up in anger, but she ignores him because she knows better than to go back and forth due to his quick wit. he’d act like a schoolboy. i think he’d also like getting real up close and personal w her, but never touching. and maybe he’d even go as far as to pull at her hair. “accidentally”. hooooooo boy, and the sexual undertones within it all. reasons seemingly unknown, but i believe he just has a crush on the reader, he’s being a hellish brat about it.

and reader enjoys is cuz patrick has a certain charm and he’s just so irresistible xxx but sometimes she wishes he was nicer to her but also where’s the fun in that?? and at certain times maybe he shows that he cares about her…like omg my heart

…ok i am so sorry for rambling i did NOT expect to go into such detail and also sorry if it’s a little corny😭😭😭 anyway, you don’t necessarily have to write headcanons or a fic, i more so would just love to hear ur thoughts on it, the whole bully aspect is really interesting (and hot) to me 🫢 ok again sorry for writing a whole novel in here hope ur having a good day! ur most recent fic was [chefs kiss] and im excited to read what u have cooking up x

omg i absolutely LOVE this concept!! what i immediately thought of was patrick and the reader being in very similar tennis circles (idk how tennis works so lets just assume that they're playing at similar events and reader is obviously playing w women) and like, at first, you cannot stand this man at all. like he always seems to find you before you play, or at your hotel after you've played, or at parties for the players, and he ALWAYS has something to say. a comment on your technique. a snide remark on how you played that day. a taunt about how you're never gonna beat the opponent you're playing against that day.

but the thing is... in a way, his bullying kinda helps you perform better? like he gets you so riled up and feeling so spiteful that you goes out onto the court and demolishes whoever you're playing against. so in a way it's kinda helpful... but also fucking annoying.

and like, at first you try to go back and forth with him but you literally never win the verbal spars so one day you just give up. and also part of you knows that he doesn't genuinely mean it?? maybe he even knows that his pestering is helpful to you and maybe thats why he does it?? but he is being an annoying pest regardless and you can't deal with him buzzing around your ear all the time and getting in your head before you play. so you just stop entertaining it.

but once you stop entertaining it, he gets kinda worried. like you've had this thing going on for a while and now suddenly you just don't care anymore. so now his gibes turn into questioning you CONSTANTLY. are you seeing someone? are you planning something?? what changed?? and when that doesn't work out for him he starts being nice to you. and thats when you start getting worried. i think this would make them have to admit their feelings to each other then BOOM happily ever after!!

i loveee this idea and it was so fun to think about! i'm usually a little iffy about bullying stuff buttt i could totally see it working in this context.

[sunsets12]

Hi! I've been reading your story for the last few days and I love your take on a slightly dark Percy Jackson, especially given where his current environment is. Thank you for sharing your work!

If you don't mind, I am a little curious to know what the future 74 tributes think of "Perseus". What are these current 8 - 14-year-olds' opinions on Percy? Specifically Katniss, Peeta, and the Career gang.

Percy is the literal nightmare for a Career (and training one at) as he is considered to be a very strong and skilled outlier with no "official" training. On the other hand, he could be a little popular with the other districts given his compassion and loyalty, or in the very least what the Capitol allowed to be viewed of these characteristics. It would not surprise me if District 12 actually sees him as a somewhat worthy victor given his kindness toward Daffodil.

Canonically, the 70th Hunger Games is just a little after Katniss's dad died, so when trying to remember them (and Annie, as the Victor who she learns Finnick is in love with) she can't recall them well. It's somewhat similar in this story, where she didn't pay much attention to the games while they were happening. But District 12 as a whole paid a lot of attention to the scene where Percy comforts Daffodil as she's dying, so Katniss inevitably hears about it

She goes back and forth between thinking it was genuine and something he did to try and get sponsors (following her very analytical and negative thoughts about Peeta's actions towards her in the beginning of the first book). She oscillates between not thinking about Percy at all, to thinking he's actually pretty kind, to thinking he's just another career willing to do anything to survive. She'll remember him and think of him differently after Rue

Unlike Katniss, Peeta was paying attention to the Hunger Games. He never meet Daffodil, barely even saw her around in District 12 since they weren't in the same class and she lived in the Seam, but he thinks the action was incredible. It informs the conversation he has with Katniss the night before they enter the arena--how even though he is willing to kill, he doesn't want the Capitol to change him. He wants to be like Percy in that regard

The Careers are a really interesting perspective! I imagine if you're not from 4, word doesn't get out that Percy WASN'T a career--I mean, he certainly was skilled enough to be one. So Clove, Cato, Glimmer, and Marvel all think he is a career who went rogue and destroyed the pack before it ever even started--a big taboo. However, he was also quite possibly the strongest and most skilled Victor, like... ever, so even though it's behind their instructors back, all of the people training to be careers can't help but admire him

And though you didn't ask about him, I want to mention Thresh (who is possibly my favorite minor character in the series--I cried when he died in my last reread). In this fic, Percy has a BIG impact on Thresh and his values in the arena. Most notably, Thresh kills Clove after Clove brags about killing his district partner (Rue), but he lets Katniss go after learning she allied with her. This reflects Percy's hunt of Andromeda and saving both Judy and Annie when he could have let both of them die (the bloodbath and the bear).

Also, according to Katniss in Catching Fire, Thresh could have easily gotten into the Career pack if he wanted/he was invited into the pack, but he didn't join. This is also mirroring Percy refusing to join the career pack despite being from a career district

Wow this answer got long

[iwishthebestforyou]

it still hurts, watching him fade away

kazuha x gn!reader // I didn't reread it before I posted it, so probably isn't that good

sypnosis: your childhood bestfriend — who you've had a BIG crush on since kindergarten is moving away soon. With the remaining time you have to be near him, you make it a mission to confess before he leaves.

angst btw

You fiddled with your pen as your teacher continues speaking about a topic you couldn't care less about, your mind on a whole different topic.

Staring at the window beside your seat, looking out at the view. It was already the end of your senior year, exams are piling up and it seems spring is coming to an end.

Your eyes left the windows view and stared at the career test on your table, the small piece of paper felt heavier than it should have. The simple questions make you feel pure dread.

Looking around the classroom, everyone was writing down their hopes, dreams and ambitions on that paper. While yours laid empty.

Sighing deeply, as the bell rang signifying the end of the class, finally. Your paper was still empty so, guess you'll turn it in tomorrow.

Walking out the classroom, you watched everyone walk by. Everything felt so fast, like time was mocking you as it flew by, the people around you seemingly adapted to the fast currents of time, while you.. you're still stuck here. Still stuck never knowing where you're gonna be..

Your deep thought process was interrupted by a tap on your shoulder, ah—

Its him. Kazuha.

The man you've grown to love for years, your childhood crush up until now. It may seem silly, but you've loved him ever since you were a child. Ever since he helped you up that day when you sprained your knee, that memory still perfectly in touch, the way he cried harder than you did despite you being the one injured.

It was meant to be right?

You smiled at him as he chuckled

" Just what are you doing here, standing around here hm? Waiting for me? "

He teased, words casual like always. He had no idea how much it affected you — you hated how he could say such words without being affected, while you were a mess just from a simple sentence.

" No way! I was just thinking... " You said, defending yourself from the accusation that he gave. You're not waiting for him!

" Thinking about what? It's not like you to be so lost in thought.. " He said, responding pretty quickly, as his face turned into one of curiosity.

Your face started to heat up.

" It's nothing.. it's just about the career thing.. that stupid test. " You said, looking at him and you felt the butterflies erupting in your stomach, God, how could he just stand there and look so.. so beautiful?

His eyes softened, nodding in understanding before looking at the window, the sun now annoyingly bright.. but he didn't seem as affected as you.

" I already filled that out. I'm moving abroad, I don't think staying in one place is my thing .. " He said a soft smile on his face and yours faltered.

Huh? He's moving?

Your breath hitched before you quickly repeated

" Abroad? " ..

" Yeah. " He said, looking at you.. but it felt like a knife was twisting in your chest.

" Oh.. good for you! " You said, forcing a smile that didn't reach your eyes.

The rest of the day passed in a blur after those words. Moving abroad?.. You felt the weight in your chest grow heavier.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about this before.. people leave, plans change and he's no different, you always knew he had bigger dreams than this small town.. He has to do what he can to get a good future, no?.. but hearing him say it so casually made it feel so.. feel so weird.

You had one month.

Your eyes lingered on him as he walked ahead, the sunlight catching his hair in a way that made your heart ache even more. You clenched your fist, a new found determination.

One month to say what you’ve been holding onto for years.

One month to say I love you.

You can do this.

As days flew by, you found yourself clinging to every moment with Kazuha. The playful teasing, the comfortable silences everything about him became a little more exciting, a little more bittersweet, knowing that by the end of this month you won't be able to see him as freely, each playful remark, each smile a silent plea for him to realize your feelings.

You tried to confess in small ways, complimenting him, subtle hints on reconnecting after graduation, but Kazuha seemed oblivious. Or maybe he just didn’t feel the same. The thought ate you alive, but there's only a few weeks left.. you cant back out!

" Are you going to the festival? "

Your friend asked, as you snapped out your thoughts and looked up at her. Nodding absentmindedly.

" Ah.. yeah. "

Your town had an annual festival, fireworks would be lit up, the whole town would be there and it would mark your last festival before you enter adulthood.

As the days continue passing by, You had gathered the courage to ask him to the festival, determined to make him yours by the end, this would be your final attempt..

Now.. it was the day of the festival.

The atmosphere was buzzing with excitement, lanterns glowing in the dusk, and the scent of street food filling the air. It was the perfect setting, almost like something out of a movie, the perfect setting to confess.

" Ah, this place is beautiful as ever.. " He complimented, looking around.

Kazuha walked beside you, seemingly carefree as always. Talking about his day, his poems.. you barely listened, heart racing thinking about what could happen tonight.

You guys took photos together, played games.. everything a couoke would do. You felt warm, really excited. Happy to be with him.

" The fireworks should start soon.. " You said, the fireworks starting soon also signifys your confession. You can do this. Your ready.

You both found a quiet spot away from the crowds, it was a secret spot you looked for weeks before the festival, just so you guys can have this moment. A high top that overlooked the town.

The countdown begun, the countdown..

5. the crowd started, as you started building up your courage..

" 4! " The townspeople screamed, your mind screaming at you to just do it already!

" 3! " No regrets this time. C'mon. Just say it.

Your eyes looked at him, face scrunching in determination.

" 2! " You can do this.

Before the final number, You stole a glance at Kazuha, his face illuminated by the flickering lights, his expression peaceful, a glint of excitement in his eyes at he stared at the sky expectedly.

Your heart pounded. This was it.

You opened your mouth, the words sitting heavy on the tip of your tongue. I love you.

Your hand trembled as you reached for his. The distance between your hands was so small, yet it felt like an ocean. But before you could close the gap, a wave of fear crashed over you.

What if telling him would change everything? What if he didn’t feel the same, and this comfortable space between you shattered? Every single moment from before up to now would be useless. No way, you can't handle that. You didn’t want to risk losing him, even if it meant never knowing.

You hesitated, fingers curling back into your palm. The words died in your throat, swallowed by the sound of the fireworks exploding in the distance.

Kazuha turned to you, smiling softly, completely unaware of the mental battle in your head,

You forced yourself to smile back, the ache in your chest growing.

The fireworks lighting up the sky and the people cheering in joy, it felt like the world was mocking you.

"Enjoying the fireworks?" he asked, his voice casual and soft, the same voice you wish you could forget right now.

You nodded, unable to trust yourself to speak, feeling something welling up in your eye, looking away from him.

The fireworks continued to light up the night sky, but you couldn’t bring yourself to watch them anymore, the moment was quiet. If maybe in different circumstances it would've been a romantic moment. But right now, you felt so far from him.

You had your chance and you let it slip away.

As the fireworks bloomed in the sky, casting their glow over the town, you felt the weight of the silence pressing harder against your chest. You’d practiced this moment in your head a hundred times, imagining the perfect scenario where you’d gather the courage to say the words.

Just 3 words.

But now, standing beside him, it felt impossible.

Kazuha leaned back, a soft smile, letting out a soft sigh. He seemed content, his eyes reflecting the colors above. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" he murmured, his voice low and content.

You nodded again, still unable to speak, eyes looking away. You couldn't bare to look up at the sky. The ache that had been simmering in your chest all month— maybe years, had finally turned into a dull, throbbing pain. How could you stand here, so close to him, and still feel so far away..

Isn't he supposed to be your safe person?

Another firework exploded in the distance, removing you from your thoughts, followed by a round of cheers from the people down below. The world seemed so full of life, moving together. But here, in this quiet corner with Kazuha, all you could feel was the passing of time slipping through your fingers and the fear of what's next.

You tried to focus on the present, on the warmth of the moment, but your mind kept spinning back to the what ifs.

But each question led to another knot in your stomach, each doubt pulling you further from the idea of confessing.

As the last burst of fireworks lit up the sky, Kazuha stood up, brushing the dust off his pants. He turned to you with a soft, gentle smile—the kind that made your heart flutter and ache at the same time, he pulled you up. The touch making you feel horrible and warm.

"Thanks for today," he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. " I had a lot of fun. "

How could he just smile like that?

You managed a small smile in return, trying to ignore the tears threatening to spill over.

" Me too ."

For a moment, you stood there, staring at him, hoping maybe, just maybe.. he’d say something, say that he understands the feelings lingering between you. But he didn’t.

Instead, Kazuha gave a small wave, turning back toward the festival lights. "Let's head back. It's getting late."

As he walked ahead, your gaze followed him, the words you could never say caught in your throat. You had your chance, and you let it slip away. And now, all you could do was watch as the one person who meant the world to you disappeared into the crowd, the distance between you growing with every step, he was moving on. Just like everyone else.

He was going home and in the heat of moment you screamed at him from afar,

" Kazuha! The moon..! The moon is beautiful tonight!! "

You yelled, smiling at him with a pained look, a desperate look. Just maybe— Maybe!

He looks back at you, an unreadable expression on his face. He sighed before flashing a soft bittersweet smile and yelling back.

" I prefer the sunset. "

The tears you've been holding back all this time finally spilled, all your emotions hitting you. Sobs coming out as you looked down.

— And just like that, that marks the end of your crush on Kazuha, a crush that lasted from kindergarten to now, your eyes fixed on his figure that slowly got smaller the further he got.

A painful reminder that your no one special in his life, when in yours he was the most special one. You will fade into his memories, staying as someone in the past, never the present.

And so, you stayed there, standing alone under the empty sky, watching the flickering glow of the festival fade into the night. He was moving on, just like the sunset.

And maybe.. maybe it was time for you to do the same.

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ♕ This is gaudy as shit and I don't care. Idk. There may be inconsistencies with the story, so, sorry. I've been working on this all day. 8 pages on Google Docs so you're in for a read. Good stuff starts at page 3 (mind you, this is from Google Docs perspective.) I read, reread, rereread, rerereread, rererereread .... until I couldn't. This is a little headcanon-y and a little fic-y. It's just what I was feeling. I know you know what to do if there's anything horribly wrong. For real, though. This is so fucking long I never want to see my laptop again.

C/W ♕ Unprotected P->V, F->M & M->F Oral, M->eating his cum (sorta) from F, kinda rough sex but they like it. I'm so brain dead right now that I can't remember everything. Soft broken Hanma eventually. I like you, no shit? I like you too. Kiss kiss. Snooze snooze. Happy happy.

Funsies ♕ A link of the playlist I made while I was writing this in case anyone wants to check it out. I don't think the read will exhaust the playlist so pick any song you want and it should, theoretically work at any point?

WC ♕ 3,915 (ISH - I change things once I get it here on Tumblr, but it's around that.

♕ You'll never forget the first time you rode on the back of Hanma's bike with him.

♕ He wasn't really keen on the idea of taking you home. You weren't even his responsibility.

♕ But it was a favor for one of his captains.

♕ Hanma put his helmet on you, tightening the strap under your chin carefully so he wouldn't pinch your delicate skin.

♕ He was so pissed when he noticed how pretty your eyes were, staring so intently back into his. He had to shake himself out of the distraction.

♕ "You're not wearing a helmet, Shuji?" You asked.

♕ "This's the only one I have, obviously. And you're going to wear it, got it?" He was so adamant about that.

♕ He got you settled in the helmet and threw his leg over his bike. Looking at you impatiently, waiting for you to get on, he put his hand out and you took it.

♕ You hopped on behind him and wrapped your arms around his straight waistline. And you're not sure if your heart skipped a beat because you were so nervous about being on the back of a motorcycle with him for the first time or if it was how you felt with your cheek pressed to his back

♕ He also noticed how nice your arms felt wrapped around him. He turned his head before he took off and told you you'd better hold on tighter, he doesn't drive like a 30 year old.

♕ Hanma thought he turned his head enough from your line of vision before he smiled. But you saw it.

♕ So you did what he asked and squeezed him tighter, pressing your chest harder against his back.

♕ He started the engine and the vibrations sent shockwaves throughout your cunt body like you've never experienced.

♕ Both you and Hanma thought it wasn't possible for you to get any closer to him, but you both somehow managed to impress the other.

♕ He was at a stoplight about 3 blocks from your house and he reached back to give your thigh a little pat.

♕ "Hold on to me, hana. I'm gonna go like hell when I see that light turn green."

♕ His hand stayed on your thigh even after he took off. Stayed there for so long, actually, that you were getting concerned about the upcoming turn in the road. But he pulled his hand forward just in time to take it with ease.

♕ The wind against your face that carried his scent - which you could NOT place, (Sandlewood? Cedar? It was DELICIOUS to say the least) was starting to make you feel drunk.

♕ You could just barely hear the music playing through the small (but strangely loud) speakers --- Be Quiet and Drive (Far Away), Deftones. You had heard the song before and liked it but now it held a certain heaviness over you. Everything about this moment felt right. The night was warm. The stars were out.

♕ How the fuck had you not realized this before?

♕ Hanma is ... he's fucking sexy.

♕ He pulled up to your place and he stopped the bike, letting it idle while sitting in your driveway.

♕ "Ok, you have arrived at your destination. You're welcome, for the ride of your life." He seemed a little more lighthearted now than when he first was roped into taking you home.

♕ "Yeah. Yeah, thanks. Um, thanks. Do you - maybe ... want some ..." you just couldn't fucking talk. He looked so handsome in the soft yellow lights that lined the street.

♕ "You got some food? I could eat, yeah." He kicked the bike stand out and turned it off and reached up to remove his helmet from your head.

♕ If he missed the blush that washed over your face he'd have to be a blind man. But you noticed a faint smile on him, too. So you think he caught it.

♕ "What do you feel like? I just went shopping and I'm fully stocked." You stood with your back to him, he was in the living room looking around at the shit you had all over your walls. Weird art that made him feel things. Stuff he's never thought himself capable of feeling - not bad things, either. But new things.

♕ And you felt comfortable with all of this. Knowing he was in another room than you. Except, he wasn't in the living room anymore. He was right fucking behind you. You stopped to look up into the cupboard you stood in front of to see what was there, if it was easy and quick to fix up.

♕ He reached out and traced the curve of your waist and leaned in, putting his face to the back of your head. "You going to feed me, y/n?"

♕ Your first thought was who's going to perform CPR on your right now because you're about to die. His breath was so hot on the back of your neck you were able to document the time that your heart actually stopped beating for a second.

♕ Hanma put his hands on your shoulders and ran them down your arms. When he got to your wrists, he pulled them behind your back more roughly than you've ever been touched by any man before.

♕ And he's so much taller than you, so he has to bend over so he can talk right into your ear.

♕ "I'm sure it's ready for me to eat right now. Not much prep is going to be required. I guess, in a way, you could almost call it fast food?" He yanked you so you were standing up straight and your back was flush with his front.

♕ You didn't know what to do with your hands so you just left them where he placed them. He had his free hand back on your waist, squeezing and exploring.

♕ "I don't think I've ever wanted something so bad as I do right now, hana." He said, letting his fingers dip lower and lower. You threw your head back and it fit into the dip between his neck and shoulder.

♕ You couldn't help but think he was such a fucking gentleman, waiting for your permission before he took anything. You leaned back against his chest and turned your head to kiss him. "Then take ... take it. Take what you want, Shuji. Take it all."

♕ Hanma's hand went back up to your throat and squeezed just enough to make you gasp.

♕ He leaned around and pressed his mouth to the corners of your lips, teasing you into giving yourself fully over to the kiss and sliding his tongue down your jawline to your neck. Ending up at your ear once more.

♕ "Good girl, hana. You're so wet for me right now, I can fucking smell it. Tell me what you want me to take. Hm? You want me to take you? You're going to be so good for me. Or maybe not? Maybe you're just going to be a nasty ... little ... bitch. I think I'd like to see that. This sweet girl act you put on. I've seen you walking around like you're just the best thing around here. Well? You going to prove that to me, hana? Huh?" He said, his voice dropping an octave as he ran his hand down your stomach and dipped his fingers into your panties.

♕ He moaned into your ear, "Oh fuck, hana. You're dripping for me. I'm going to fucking ruin you."

♕ He turned you around more roughly than he had to and hoisted you onto the counter, yanking your pants down and kneeling down before you, inhaling your scent. Deeply.

♕ Hanma looked up at you with such fire in his eyes, you couldn't help but feel a little intimidated. He traced his finger over your pussy, feeling your wetness before leaning forward and dragging his tongue over the same invisible line his finger forged on your trembling skin.

♕ You arched your back and gasped as he brushed his lips against your thighs. You could feel how heavy his breathing had gotten. He pushed one finger passed your folds, then two, and you could feel yourself tightening around him.

♕ "Shu, f-fuck. Please, I need ... I need ..."

♕ He looked up at you with his eyebrows raised. "What do you need, hana. Use your words."

♕ You reached down and grabbed him by the ears, pulling him up to your face. "I ... fuck me, Shuji." You kissed him, tasting yourself on him.

♕ Hanma didn't waste a second. He pulled you off the counter and dragged you into your bedroom. You turned around and yanked at his belt buckle, pulling it from the loops all at once and threw it across the room, unzipping his pants and pulling them down.

♕ He leaned you over the bed, spreading your legs and reaching up to squeeze your ass. You looked back at him, wanting him to fill you up.

♕ Hanma rubbed his tip up and down your slit, teasing you. "Shuji just ... just fuck me."

♕ You were so whiny and needy. It was making him so hard. He wanted to fuck you right then and there. To give you what you were so desperately and metaphorically, on your knees for.

♕ But the sadist in him, found it hard to acknowledge your pleas so soon. He didn't want you to work for this, per se. But he wanted to make good and damn sure you wanted him as much as he wanted you. So what if he had to deny himself instant gratification. The look on your sweet, flushed face was already worth having to drag this out.

♕ "You've been so good for me, hana. I'm going to give you exactly what you need. But I don't want you to come too soon." He said, smirking as he pulled you back to your feet and turned you around, pressing his hands into your shoulders until you were on your knees.

♕ Hanma reached down and pulled his cock out of his boxers and he patted your chin a few times. Urging your mouth to open so he could slap it on your tongue before pushing his tip into your mouth. You let him guide you as you took him down your throat. He kept his eyes on you, watching as you struggled to take him all the way in.

♕ "Fuck, y/n. Look at you. Taking me like a good little slut. I knew you were going to act like a little bitch in heat. Choking down my cock like that." He praised you through gritted teeth. Despite sounding so volatile, it made you feel so good to be used by him this way.

♕ He pulled out of your mouth and pushed you back onto the bed, flipping you over onto your stomach. He pulled your hips up and guided his tip into you, slowly pushing himself in until he was all the way inside you.

♕ Hanma held himself there for a minute, feeling you tighten around him. He started moving again, in and out of you.

♕ You felt like you were on the edge of an orgasm with every thrust. The disgusting way he used you for his own pleasure and the way he spoke to you was driving you mad.

♕ "Shuji, fuck ... I'm gonna cum."

♕ He pulled out and turned you onto your back. He spread your legs apart and leaned over you, pushing himself back inside you and pressing his lips to yours.

♕ "Yeah? How close? How close are you?" He dragged his teeth over your ear and on down to your visibly beating pulse point and left a purple mark in his wake. You clenched up around his cock so hard when he did this that he had to stop moving and pull himself together. "Fuck! Hana! Keep that shit up and this is over. I'm fucking finished."

♕ He thrust into you harder, his balls slapping against your ass wasn't helping you hold off cumming all over him. You felt your orgasm building up inside you. You reached down to rub your clit, but he saw where your fingers were aiming and he brushed your hand aside and started rubbing soft circles on it for you. It made you moan - the most whorish, slutty sound you have ever let out.

♕ It was out of your control at this point. His dick pounding inside of you, hitting all the right spots at all the right times was making you more cock-drunk than you have ever felt. If you could even consider yourself aware of anything other than his golden eyes burning holes into yours and the rise and fall of his hips against your spread legs.

♕ Your cunt swallowed his cock so perfectly. The thought crossed your mind that you were made for each other. But that's ridiculous. Hanma hates you. Right? He didn't even want to take you home. So why, then, is he balls deep inside of you right now. Don't fucking ask, you thought to yourself. Doing any and every little thing you could to stave off your imminent crash.

♕ He could see your eyes start to roll back and he knew what was happening. He pressed his thumb harder against your clit and started circling it faster.

♕ "Cum for me, hana. Show me how much you wanted this, how much you wanted my cock inside of you." He sucked on your nipple as he fucked you. Balancing over you on his left hand, his right hand still trifling with your pulsing clit. You tried to buck up against him for any extra stimulation but he only pulled back. "Aht! I make you cum. You ... you let me. Understand, hana? I ... make ... you ... cum." He growled through his clenched jaw directly into your ear. Punctuating each word with driving his hips harder and harder against you.

♕ You couldn't hold it in anymore. You came so hard and you didn't even care that he was watching you so closely. You let your body relax and gave in to the moment. You'd pretty much checked out mentally, but whatever connection remained between your brain and your body was otherworldly. You felt his cock sliding in and out of your soaked cunt. It was so thick and long. Nothing like you imagined it would be by just looking at his tall, thin frame. (But aren't those guys always the wildcard?) It was all you could focus on.

♕ Hanma was ready to cum, too. He pulled out of you and turned you over onto your stomach again. He slapped his wet cock against your ass before pushing back into your pussy, making you moan into the sheets.

♕ You were still twitching against him. As close as he was to blowing his sticky load of cum inside of you, as hard as his cock was twitching, he was so transfixed by how you felt around him. So fucking hot. So fucking soft. So fucking beautiful. Like a goddamn flower. Your pussy made him think of the most beautiful flower and nothing would ever change his mind about that. (And he would never figure out why - but he wondered if it had to do with the weird art in your living room).

♕ "Fuck, hana. Fuck!Fuck!Fuck! You want me to cum inside this pussy? Want me to cum in my pussy, huh? Yeah? Fuck, cumming so fuck- hard, holy shit. Fuck!" Hanma came with such force, you could feel his cum pouring into you. And soon after, seeping out of you from around his cock still inside of your stretched hole. He collapsed on top of you, both of you breathing heavily. He didn't want to move, not yet.

♕ And he felt like it should bother him that he was still here with you. Still, physically, a part of you, as much as you were a part of him. But he couldn't think of a single reason why he should leave. Let alone why he'd want to leave.

♕ "Shu, you ... I ... well," you tried to speak but couldn't form a coherent thought just yet. "Um," it was useless. You couldn't think. So you just laid there underneath him. Feeling more and more empty with each passing second as the sadness of this being over filled you instead feeling full from Hanma. It was not a good placeholder for him. It was not feeling nearly as good as he did. And you felt like crying.

♕ Whether because it was just too much for you or it was just nothing to him. What if it were both? Shit. You're starting to cry.

♕ He felt you tremble underneath him and he rolled off of you, turning you over to face him.

♕ "Hey, what's wrong? Hana? Look at me, now. Did I hurt you? Did I do something?" He looked more concerned that irritated. And that's probably what surprised you the most. You tried to hide your face, but he grabbed your chin and pulled you back.

♕ "No, it's ... it's nothing. I just ... it was too much. You were too good." You said, laughing hard through the tears, wholly embarrassed by your generous assessment.

♕ "Oh, what now?" Hanma smiled and kissed you on the forehead. He reached down and grabbed your hand, bringing it to his mouth and kissing it. "You say I was too good? Were you even here? I mean ... I guess it's impossible for you to feel yourself. But, I guess ... I guess I'm only as good as who I'm with? And, hana," he cupped your face in his rough, slightly grease stained and scarred hand, "you were good, too."

♕ You laughed again, shaking your head. "Don't ... don't be nice to me. I can't handle it. And that's not even ... you don't have to say that to me. I know you don't like me. You can't fucking stand me. I knew all of this when I asked your captain to make you give me a ride. How embarrassing is that. I fucking am so pathetic sometimes." You rubbed your eyes with the heel of your palm. "God. You can go. You don't have to stay. It's alright. I'm ... I'll be ... fine. I always am."

♕ Hanma sat up on his elbow, looking down at you with his brow furrowed. "Hana. I can't believe you're this stupid." He rubbed the back of his neck and looked out into the hallway.

♕ "Shuji! Who the fuck is Hana? And why do you keep calling me that? My name is-" great, now you look sad and insane.

♕ "Chill, crazy. Hana means blossom. And I think, ffffuck. Ithinkyou'reprettylikeaflowerplusyourpussyispretty." His words ran together but you heard every single separate syllable. You're pretty sure you fell in love with him a little bit, too. The fucker.

♕ He leaned over you again, pressing his lips to yours. You moaned against his mouth and reached to grab his cock, but he stopped you. "No. I wanna make you feel good. It's your turn." He kissed your neck and made his way down to your pussy, licking up his own cum that had dripped out of you. You bucked your hips up into his face, reaching down to grab a fistful of his hair.

♕ He looked up at you with wide eyes, smirking. "Hold on, hana. I got you." He sucked your clit between his lips, pressing his tongue against it and making you cry out in pleasure. He pushed two fingers into your pussy and started pumping them in and out of you, hitting your g-spot while he circled your clit with the tip of his tongue.

♕ "Fuck, Shu! Fuck me!" You screamed.

♕ He looked up at you with his eyelids still heavy. "That's what I'm trying to do, baby." He said, chuckling. "Just this time, it's with my mouth. Ok? So sit back and enjoy the ride." He leaned back down and continued sucking and licking and pumping you until you couldn't hold on anymore. You came for him, all over his face. And he didn't seem to mind one bit.

♕ He crawled up to you and laid beside you again. You looked over at him and smiled. "You're such an asshole. But I kind of like you."

♕ He leaned over and kissed you, letting you taste yourself on him. Again. "No shit? I've liked you for a while. But I ... hell, I don't know. I guess I thought you were too good for me or something." He put his head against your chest, subconsciously counting the heartbeats coming from your body. "That's usually what people tell me. The guys and stuff. They always give me shit about anyone I like. Except ... except for you. They respect you."

♕ You nodded slowly, spacing out on the chunk of blond hair above his forehead. "Yeah, it helps having a cousin who's a captain. But Shuji, I do. I really do like you. I just wanted you to know that."

♕ Hanma looked up at you with a softness in his eyes you had never seen before. "I know, hana. I know." He kissed you again, pulling the sheet over both of you. He didn't want you to see him get worked up. Not over you. Not emotionally. Not just yet. But he was pretty sure he was starting to fall in love with you. And that was just something he wasn't prepared for. Though he'd have to face up to it. Sooner, rather than later, he thought.

♕ He turned over onto his back and let you snuggle up next to him, throwing your arm over his chest. He closed his eyes, thinking about how much he'd like to do this again. Just like this. Just you.

♕ You reached over and turned off the lamp, laying your head against his chest and simply being in the darkened room with him. It was so easy, you thought. And you hoped it would always be that way, though you knew better than to believe that. Because Hanma was a very complicated man on the outside and inside. And you wanted to be the one who could be there to understand him. The one who could get to know him. The one who could make him laugh and cry and feel any and everything he ever wanted to feel. You wanted to be the one who'd be there to listen to anything he had to say. Softly spoken or screamed out.

♕ And that's all you wanted. To be there for him. And with him. And with him.

♕ "Good night, little hana." He said, pulling you tighter against him.

♕ "Good night, beautiful Shuji." You smiled in the darkness and drifted off to sleep.

♕ And you didn't care how much you'd regret saying it or how much you'd try to deny it. It was true. You were in love with him. And you knew it would be some time before he could admit he felt the same way. But you would give him whatever amount of time he needed.

♕ He hoped he would be worth it. Hanma wasn't necessarily a good man. He has never been called a good man. Never has he ever really felt like one.

♕ But he heard you talking to him in the morning before you got out of bed to fix the coffee. Telling him how you'd be there for him as best you could. No matter what.

♕ He thought to himself that he hoped he'd never disappoint you. No matter what.

Taglist ::: @katkitkats @darkstarlight82 @arlerts-angel @viburnt @kazutora-kurokawa

[king-paimon]

Houseki No Kuni Chapter 108 Thoughts: Everything Stays....

Hello all. I hope the month of April was good to everyone. It was alright for me, though I'm just in awe by how fast it went! Time really goes by too quickly as you get older.

Speaking of time, would you look at that? The final chapter of Houseki no Kuni was released! 108 chapters over the course of 12 years. And I've been following it for nearly 5 of those years! Wow! That is quite the feat, Ms. Ichikawa.

I'd been waiting for this day for a long time, and the feeling is bittersweet, with the overlaying feeling of relief. This emotional rollercoaster that Ms. Ichikawa had sent us on has finally reached it's dock.

Phos's story is finally complete. What a ride it had been!

Now the question is: Was I satisfied?....

I'll do my best to answer this. I don't know how long this post will be, but I'm hoping that it won't be too long (edit: Oops. I was wrong.) And as always, please feel free share your own thoughts if you're interested!

Here we go:

Phos's True End: Was It Satisfying?

I reread this chapter a few times to answer this question and to be honest, I still reach the same conclusion: It was fitting. Not absolutely bad or 100% amazing, but in terms of Phos's whole journey throughout this story, I think this was a fitting ending for Phos, and that's good. And if anything else, it's a little ironic.

I mentioned in my last post that I thought it was funny that the remaining piece of Phos had become the youngest/newest member of the pebble species much like how they originally were at the beginning off the whole manga. It seems though, the similarities don't end there because of this little interaction between Eyeball/Pita-pat and Pebble Phos:

I'm sure this was supposed to be a little cheeky conversation and Eyeball/Pita-pat didn't really mean it. But still, this was an interesting exchange to include in this final chapter, especially right before it's implied that Eyeball/Pita-pat passed away.

One intriguing story choice Ichikawa made was having Pebble Phos continuously fall apart near the end to the point that they become a small spec. To be honest, I was not sure how to feel about this part when I first read, especially considering how now there's hardly any of Phos left now. Like, after Eyeball/Pita-pat saved that last bit of Phos so they could have a nice life away from humanity, it'd be unfair for them to break apart again to nothing after all of that. But I did like how the pebbles decided to view Pebble Phos' changes; that their fragments surely became beautiful comets that would brighten someone's day. And that shot with original Phos was nice...

Also, I saw the post that implied that Ichikawa released this final chapter around the same time that a rare famous comet was supposed to be seen on Earth. I want to say that I think it was a pure coincidence, but I'm not putting anything past this author!

This chapter made me think of that one song from Adventure Time: Everything Stays. If you haven't heard of it, please give a listen. It's a song about life and the course of change. It focuses on how even if things appear to stay the same over the course of time, changes still occur, even if subtle. Phos certainly changed a lot throughout their story through intense mind and physical altering events. But I also think they changed subtly even during the less intense moments. I think the moments in this final chapter fit with this song, too. Phos was always evolving, even when it didn't appear so. Through their interactions and lack thereof with others and their environment, Phos was always changing and growing, ever so subtly. And even in this last chapter, Phos is still evolving and that'll likely never end.

Interesting... after thinking about it some more, I think I feel a little more satisfied with how this chapter/story ended. I'm glad that Ms. Ichikawa didn't pull some other twist near the end; that certainly would have ruined it for me. Am I 100% happy with how Phos's story ended? I don't think so. But to me, it's a fitting end.

But what do I think about the series as a whole?

When The Journey Ends: Was It Worth It?

There are very few manga or written stories that had me wanting to see how things end because more often than not, there aren't that many stories that I've read to completion. Part of it is because I don't want the story to end; basically, I'd have the thought process that if I don't know how the story ends, the story doesn't end! Perfect logic (sarcasm). Though this usually happens because I lose interest or because the story goes in directions that I don't like, I'd say one of the main reasons I end up dropping a series is because of how a story ends. How a story ends can completely change one's opinion of a story, and I've seen my fair share of stories that end badly. Sometimes the ending is abrupt and not satisfying, especially if it was lead by a big build up, or the ending is a result of a jarring story pivot that seems to come out of left field. It just seems that many creators don't know how to end their story well. And if I like a story a lot, sometimes I'm too scared to see how it ends. Partially because I don't want the story to end, but mostly because I don't want the end to ruin my experience.

Houseki no Kuni is a unique case for me. I know I've mentioned this before but I'll state it again: I don't think I've ever been so invested in a story like this before. Though that investment had dwindled over time, partially due to me developing new interests, life, and being occasionally dissatisfied with certain story choices, I wanted to see this how this story would end no matter what. And now that it's done, I'm glad I stuck it out.

Was this story perfect? No. There were several story decisions that I wish was either told differently or completely omitted that could have made the story stronger in my opinion.

Did I get a too invested in this story? During certain points, most definitely haha. I remember getting very emotional about certain chapters when I first started making this series of meta posts. I remember seeing some posts from people stating that they no longer liked the manga because of the direction it was going and in some cases, I could see where they were coming from.

Do I regret getting so invested in this story? No. No I don't. Despite not liking certain story aspects, I do not regret getting invested in this story. Though the story was not perfect, this was such a unique experience that I'm grateful to have gone through.

I plan on talking more about how I feel about Houseki no Kuni as a whole in another post. I intend to delve into what I loved about it and what I wish was different. While I could include that stuff here, I think this post is long enough. I've already started working on it, but I know it'll be a while before it's done; you bet there will be some parts with me ranting a little haha

But long story short, despite some grievances I have with some parts of the story, I feel satisfied with how it ended. And I'm glad that I read this series.

What Happens Next: Thank you, HnK Fandom

I want to thank those who've read, liked, and even commented on my posts! I didn't think so many of you would like, let alone read, my longwinded messy posts. I loved every feedback I got, even the ones that didn't agree with me. You made me love being part of this niche fandom. Like I said in the previous section, I have at least one more post that I want to make detailing everything I feel about Houseki No Kuni as a whole. I might make another one that's more for fun, but we'll see. I encourage anyone who's interested to share your own thoughts on the post! I seriously love reading different perspectives.

But after those posts, I don't know how involved I'll be in the fandom afterwards. I may repost some art and other people's meta posts on occasion. But when it comes to meta commentary, these will likely be my last posts about HnK. I have other fandoms that I like to follow, though I don't make posts about them. Perhaps I will, though I know they will be nothing like the posts I've made about Houseki no Kuni. This was the only series I've ever felt compelled to analyze so deeply, which makes it special for me. If I were to post anything about the other stuff I'm into, it'll most likely be of fanart that I made for my own personal enjoyment. I know scare many of my followers away since they'll not be HnK related. But who knows? I haven't made any HnK art in a long time... Maybe one of these days, I can try to make some HnK art again. I have some unfinished pieces on my computer that's now years old. Yeah, I should finish them when I have the time. That'd be a fun little send off.

Anyhow, if you are interested, please hang around for my final HnK meta posts! And when it's out, please please PLEASE share your own thoughts in it! Don't be afraid to share your opinions. I promise I don't bite.

So that's it. These are my thoughts of the final chapter of Houseki no Kuni. I might add more to it, but I'm fine with what I put out. Wow... I still can't believe I got into this series 5 years ago! So much had changed in my life since then. Despite everything, it was worth it.

Thank you again for reading my jargon. It means a lot and I can't wait to post my true final meta posts about Houseki no Kuni.

What a ride this was.

Until next time...

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Errors, “Errors,” and Animorphs

So in a different post I ranted about how a tiny non-distracting unfixable difference between two shirts is not an error in Jurassic Park.  IMHO, a continuity gap is only an error if:

It draws attention to itself and distracts the audience

It could’ve been fixed pretty easily in-story

It makes character, plot, or setting nonsensical

Animorphs has continuity gaps of its own.  And I have opinions about what we readers do and do not count as “error.”  First, an example that’s clearly an error:

I wondered if Tobias had heard my thought. I concentrated. Tobias, can     you hear me?

«Yeah,» he said, «I hear you.»

“Did you hear my thoughts before that?” I asked.

«No, I don’t think it works that way.  You have to think at me for me to     hear.»

—#1: The Invasion

Tobias briefly hearing Jake thought-speak in #1 breaks the rules of the setting; several other books (#2, #23, #31, #33, #46) clearly state that it’s impossible to thought-speak if one is human and not in morph.  It’s an easy fix; the re-releases and audiobooks delete this moment, and the graphic novel makes Tobias unable to hear Jake.  It distracts the audience; I’ve gotten 5 or 6 separate asks over the years of people going “I was rereading #1, and the weirdest thing...” It’s an error.  I can’t say what happened behind the scenes — K.A. Applegate toyed with a thread that was later dropped, or decided to introduce a limitation for plot fuel at a later time.  But it’s an error.

Second, an example that I don’t think counts as an error:

I returned to my life, feeling strange and out of place. That night Jake came over. We went outside.

"I tried morphing the Tyrannosaurus," he said. "Nothing. Didn't work."

"You could ask Ax. He may know why."

Jake laughed. "Yeah, but even if he explains it, I still won't understand it."

—MM2: In the Time of the Dinosaurs [Cassie’s narration]

The kids not being able to morph dinosaurs outside of the Cretaceous Era makes a lot of sense in context.  The whole book series would fundamentally change if they could use T. rex — that would become heavily a favored morph for many of them.  It kicks off all kinds of plot questions that demand answers: Where do the controllers think the “andalite bandits” got dino DNA? What anti-dinosaur measures would they be forced to adopt? Would the Animorphs’ whole strategy change around having those morphs? How would Rachel feel about everyone but Tobias suddenly having a much stronger morph than her? Would they even bother with contemporary animal morphs afterward?

If the kids are morphing dinosaurs all the time after ~#18, then the series loses a lot of its uniqueness.  Applegate has said that most of the inspiration for the series was about trying to help kids understand what it would really be like to be inside an animal mind, with as many animals as possible.  That’s part of why so many of the plots hinge on giving the Animorphs an excuse to learn a new morph (e.g. #4, #17, #27, #47, #52) so that we can experience the coolness right along with them.  That’s why the war is explicitly about fighting for Earth, nonhumans and all (#7, #23, #53).  If it’s not a menagerie of six different critters — including one immigrant from space — rolling up to battle, then it’s not Animorphs. No, it makes no dang sense that sario rip morphs stop working once the rip gets unripped.  But the series acknowledges it, and it allows us both to have a unique animal-based story (dinosaurs! Heckin dinosaurs!) without ruining its own premise.

Third, one that I find fascinating because it’s kind of right on the margin:

"What I don't get is why I have to be a girl wolf," Marco grumbled.

"We had one male and one female," Cassie explained for the tenth time. "If two of us morphed into the male, we'd have two males. Two male wolves might decide they had to fight for dominance."

"I could control it," Marco said.

"Marco, you and Jake already fight for dominance, and you're just ordinary guys," Rachel pointed out.

—#3: The Encounter

Later, Tobias’s narration uses the word “alpha” to describe Jake’s morphed behavior — howling and peeing to mark territory, challenging another wolf pack to protect his own.

There is scientific consensus right now, as of the 2020s, that the term “alpha” is an inaccurate descriptor of pack-lead behavior, and that dominance fights between adult males are almost nonexistent.  That although wolves usually run in a phalanx-like shape with one middle-aged male and female at the point, this isn’t the result of dominance fights but rather an effort to have the physically strongest wolves absorb blows from rogue prey animals or rival predators.  That the dominance fights observed in captive wolves in the 1970s were the result of an ecology error, putting wolves from rival packs into single enclosures.  Fox (1972, 1973) gave a reasonably accurate description of how wolves behave if you put a bunch of adult strangers in a zoo together: the young adult males fight, the winner of that fight wins first access to food, and the mate of the winner gets the most resources for her puppies.

However, time rolls forward, and advances like hidden cameras (and the resurgence of wild wolf populations) allow us to watch wolves without needing to capture them first.  Mech (1999) follows some such wolves around, and quickly realizes that dominance and submission aren’t nearly as important among wolves who chose to make a pack.  Stahler et al. (2002) figure out a better way to introduce stranger wolves in captivity, and get full cooperation among young adult males.  Nowadays drones and radio collars get 1000s of times the wolf data Fox had to work with, and reveal intense cooperation with little more than play-fighting among puppies.

The Encounter comes out 1997.  Mech publishes the first big takedown of the alpha concept 1999.

Did an error occur anywhere in this process?

No, in that Applegate presumably doesn’t own a Time Matrix and published a book based on the scientific consensus at the time about how wolf social dynamics worked.

Yes, in that the error is pretty distracting — I get drawn up short by it every time I reread #3, and I know others have too.

No, in that the error was corrected in the graphic novel adaptation.

Yes, in that the error is still present in the audiobook, and Michael Crouch delivers the moment about Jake being backed into a dominance fight with all of Tobias’s exasperated humor.

No, in that the error allows for some character moments, both silly (Jake peeing on trees) and sweet (Jake being ready to take on an entire rival pack alone, over a rabbit he doesn’t want).

Yes, in that the error takes away from one of the series’ most fundamental purposes, to educate kids about animals.

Anyway, books are great, science is imperfect, and I think the more we all engage with amateur criticism the more we’re all going to learn about what counts as an error in fiction writing with inspiration in scientific reality.

[violet-snail-girl]

So I've had some Thoughts lately as I've been rereading Oathbringer about a post I saw at some point just after finishing reading the Stormlight Archive for the first time and starting to get into the fandom. The basic premise of the post was that both Elhokar and Jasnah would have both led better lives if they were trans and effectively switched roles.

I disagree with that in regards to Jasnah. Her problems are mostly from the strict gender roles put on her by Alethi culture and vorinism, not from just being a woman. Also, as an elsecaller her oaths are supposed to revolve around meeting her potential and becoming better, and she's shown to be at at least the fourth ideal in RoW. If she were trans I'd expect that to have come up at some point. Maybe I'm missing something because I'm transfem not transmasc but I don't see that for Jasnah.

Elhokar on the other hand, I get the argument. There's not a lot of textual evidence, but more than for Jasnah. Like Jasnah, the strict gender roles of their culture seems to cause Elhokar distress, but he's way worse at making his own place despite them than Jasnah is. Elhokar was made king after his father's death due to being the only male heir, but as is shown throughout the series he's not good at being a king. Like at all. Jasnah does a much better job ruling Alethkar and that's during the apocalypse! Anyway, being a bad king doesn't mean he's trans, but it does help illustrate that the place he's put in life doesn't fit him.

The strongest evidence for Elhokar being trans is that he's attracted the attention of cryptics and if he wasn't killed he would have become a lightweaver. Lightweavers tend to be people who have deeply hidden truths about themselves that they refuse to admit even to themselves (assuming Shallan isn't a complete outlier). As someone who is trans, it's pretty easy to imagine that being a powerful truth someone would be reluctant to admit to.

Additionally, in Oathbringer when the team is infiltrating Kohlinar, Shallan suggests disguising Elhokar as a woman. Kaladin and Shallan both expect him to resist that idea, but he goes along with it eagerly and never seems uncomfortable with the experience or role while wearing that disguise. It seems like a similar thing to a lot of trans women dressing up as women for Halloween before realizing who they are/coming out because it gives them plausible deniability. I know I for one would have been delighted to have the opportunity to have an illusion that changes both my appearance and voice to be more feminine (I'm slowly working on that without the illusion, but anyways).

The last thing that's less directly evidence of being trans, but still contributes to the argument imo is that Elhokar seems to be kinda depressed most of the time. It'd be pretty easy to read the cut saddle strap situation in TWoK as a potential suicide attempt that could be explained away as trying to find assassins. In WoR after Dalinar sets off into the shattered plains Elhokar immediately starts drinking and goes to Kaladin to talk about how bad he is a being a king. On the night of the assassination attempt he's extremely drunk and moping in his rooms. In early Oathbringer he tries to abdicate the throne to Dalinar and constantly talks about how he always fails and makes a mess of things.

Anyway that's about it for my random thoughts and rambles about this that have been rattling around in my head for a while. I doubt this'll really persuade anyone, but I just wanted to put my thoughts out there

[epickiya722]

Reading Horikoshi's last works, Oumagadoki Zoo and Barrage, and checking out the end of that it reminds me of what is going on with My Hero Academia.

I'm about to recall on of my literature lessons here and make text-to-text connections here.

Both of those stories' endings had a big battle going on between the opposing sides. Once those battles are won by the good guys, everything goes "back to normal". People living their lives, smiling again, that deal.

However, not everything is completely okay. There still some changes to be made. Slowly, but surely.

Both stories end openingly. The future isn't for certain, but it looks slightly brighter than before.

That's what I think is going to be the case for MHA. We already see that society is rebuilding itself back here.

In the case of the villains, those previous stories while the bad guys are defeated and receive punishment, there is still that open air of opportunity for them to change. They also don't die in their stories.

Now, before someone gets a hissy fit and be like "Midoriya killed Shigaraki" (even more it was more on AFO than Midoriya... I feel like some of you think it's too easy to blame the villain but I digress), what if I told you... maybe there is a way for Shigaraki to come back or at least, his fate is hinted to be open and he did not have a certain death?

Hear me out! Spoilers ahead for both Barrage and OZ!

In OZ, the bad guys don't actually die after getting defeated. They do kind of just go about their lives. One of them even joins the Zoo in an aftermath story!

In Barrage, the "prince" is killed. However, Astro, the protagonist, makes a remark that he could have survived and he's still around.

That could be the case for Shigaraki. I know we got that mystery kid a while back, but here's my thought.

Horikoshi may go back to him later. Or! He may not! I'm leaning more on the "may not" because I feel like Horikoshi may leave it up to the audience to decide what happens.

A "Shigaraki may have died... or maybe he's reincarnated... maybe he's not..."

Simply what I'm saying is, while there are things that are certain, that doesn't mean they can't change. While it may seem everything is over and done with, it doesn't mean there isn't room for growth. The future can be a bright one when you're open for change and it will take time.

It what happens in both of Horikoshi's previous works. The protagonist is united with their allies and smile in the end, even when not everything is okay.

Especially, in the case of OZ. Horikoshi did an extra story where everyone is happy, but the Zoo still doesn't get costumers like that.

That's how it's going to be for MHA, I feel.

Things with be slow, but slowly getting better. The ending will lean more into being open for the audience to imagine what will happen.

Here's the thing with me and some of the fandom.

I don't think any of you are stupid or lack reading comprehension skills.

I feel like some of you are impatient. I get it, sometimes, you don't want to wait and you must know what happens next. But at the same time, that impatience shouldn't lead you into turning into the worse version of yourself.

Because of that impatience, you won't stop and think "what could this mean". You don't think to go back and reread to catch details that may have foreshadow something. Instead, you jump to conclusions and call the writing "bad".

It's not bad if you're too impatient to understand it.

Society in MHA isn't going to change overnight. There's time to change.

Sorry to tell you, some people will still worship the heroes. Some people will still hate the villains. That's the reality of it. Some laws will still be in place. Sorry, but just because Hawks put on that hot ass suit (and I don't mean it's an attractive one, he has a habit of wearing clothes that look like they're hot), doesn't mean he can make everything A-OK by snapping his fingers.

There are still people he got to work with.

This is the case with everyone. Just because Izuku is our hero of the story, don't mean he can clap his hands and "Oh my gosh, the villains aren't that bad. Oh my gosh, we should change".

He is still a high school student. Who just reached his second year. Just his second year.

These changes? WILL TAKE TIME!!!

And I know, some of you are thinking that ship might happen but given how Horikoshi has written them and his previous works... I doubt it.

I could be wrong, but I have doubts.

Horikoshi doesn't really rely much on romance on Barrage and OZ. In fact, in both of those stories it's more of a platonic close connection between the main male and female roles and the female character does her own story.

Now look, I adore Izuku, but when it comes to Ochako... he is a side character in her story and that's it. He is a supporting character. But that's just me.

[mayuichi]

“Rest assured, it is not mine.„

William James Moriarty x fem!reader Warnings: dark contents (murders, beating, blood, etc...), spoilers of MOSTLY the second season! be aware!

note: i'm so obsessed again over MTP, you can't know how much. i'm rewatching it rn, and i'll reread it too. ALSO i'm so sorry for my absence, i'm procrastinating and finding it hard to stay motivated, especially with my nausea, but it's slowly getting better so i hope i'll be capable to write more!

Pictures from the anime Yuukoku no Moriarty / Moriarty the Patriot.

Being the child of an earl isn't too hard. But as a woman, you are expected to be nearly perfect. Graceful, elegant, flawless, and charitable. Most respect you, or more likely.. fear your father. Speaking of which, you still live with your parents. You haven't found a suitable man yet. It was infuriating for your father, he wanted you to find a husband. But you couldn't care less for now. Strolling around in town is much more entertain than finding someone.

After one more heated argument with him, resulting in a red mark across your cheek like it happened so many time before, you call it a day and leave to your room for the night. Clutching on the plush you have managed to keep, you sit on your bed, staring at the moon through the window. Your mother didn't even tried to protect you, never. If only things could change.

Undressing yourself to slide on a warm robe, you close the curtains and fall on the soft mattress, engulfing in it, pulling the covers over your frame. Tomorrow is another day, it will all be okay.

At least, that's what you thought...

Awakening by a voice. You focus on it, only to realise it's a stranger. You've never heard them before... did you? Chills parkour through your veins, jolting you forward. You don't know who they are, nor what they want. But you don't want to stay near them.

Stepping cautiously out of your room, you hurry as best as you can to the front door. On your track, your gaze averts on a gruesome scene. Your father, resting in his blood, his life slowly fading from his body. With your mother, next to him, heavily injured. The footsteps behind you make you believe they're after you, now.

Sighing in relief when you finally see the front door. Your hands reach for the handle, your body freezes at the voice. “Leaving so soon? I've been told this family was full of cowards, but still...„ his voice malicious. You couldn't even move, feeling the tip of the blade against the back of your neck.

Just swallowing was hard. One bad move, and you'd die. Trying to take a deep breath. Your heart is pounding in your chest, your hands sweaty. “I... I am not like them..„. Hesitantly turning around, you could perceive one of his eyebrow raising. “The day... The day I'd be like them, I'd rather die...„

You don't even know half of what your father does, but all you've discovered about has never been good. A smirk displayed on the stranger's face, his golden locks falling ever so slightly above his scarlet eyes. “Hmm.. Interesting...„

Staring at him, also because you don't want to miss any of his action, your eyes get used properly to the dark, allowing you to see more of his features. And it isn't long before you recognise the second son of the Moriarty. A mathematics professor, and a noble, now pointing a blade at you.

However, he withdraws his blade, sheathing it back in his cane. Taking a step forward, he moves his hand across your cheek, his fingers grazing gently. “... Such a poor thing. I suppose it's a recurrent treatment, isn't it?„.

His touch, his words, his expression... It's so sweet, so caring. Is it truly the same man that has murdered your parents? With a sigh, he pulls away, thinking of a way to be sure you'd keep your silence over his true identity. But before he could utter a word, you got carried away and whispered your thoughts.

“I wouldn't mind... joining you. I want to be useful as well...„. Surprise filled his eyes. His piercing gaze staring right through your soul, he leans in, his tall frame towering over you. “Are you sure ? It is a dark and dangerous path. You shouldn't be impulsive.„. He hasn't dismissed you. He feels it in you, after all. That strength and resilience after all those years. This desire to be able to make a change. Even if you aren't a good fighter for now, you could become one.

His associates were unsure, at first. You were so fragile, so sensitive. How could you become useful ? But he kept believing in you, training you, and asking for Jake to train you as well. Within weeks, you were already close to be as good as them. You just lacked experiences.

And perhaps, everything that happened got you closer to their leader, the true Lord of Crime... William. He'd often invite you over tea, or to stroll around town. At this point, it became a habit of you, to go buy some pastries to a hardworking baker and have your tea party. It wasn't always just the two of you. Sometimes, Louis and Albert would join in, or even Bonde. It was such heartwarming times.

It has never been a surprise for you that in a middle of your discussions, William would suddenly fall over the couch and sleep. It always made you giggle quietly. But despite it, none of you took a step further. After all, neither knew if the others actually had feelings or if it was just a mere thought.

Months after you joined, William has went again with Louis only to take care of some aristocrats, with Fred's intel. Those nights are the worst. You're restless, incapable to be in slumber.

Sitting on your bed, in your robe, you hear the front door opening. Footsteps in the corridor, and the brothers' voice, casting each other's goodnights. Stepping out of your room, you gaze over William, blood soaked. “Is... is that blood?„

He turns around to face you, a gentle smile spreading when he sees you. “Rest assured, it is not mine.„. You blink, unsure of how you should feel. It's clear though, it isn't having the right effect. “Is that supposed to reassure me?!„

Your exclamation caught him off guard, and he walks closer, placing a comforting hand over your shoulder. “Isn't it usual now, though? You have seen me bloody a lot before.„. His words hit you like a train. You have seen him blood covered, yes, but your mind has never been calm about it.

“I know! I just-.. Ugh..„, anxiety floods you, your head lowering as you dismiss his hand. “I never said it was fine for me. It makes me worry. What if you get hurt?„. It's a stupid assumption, and you know it. He makes plan for every tiny details. He never leaves room for uncertainty.

Hurrying yourself to ask him to forget it, you go back in your room, closing the door behind you. Plopping on your bed, you can't help but hate yourself. Why are you so worried about him? He's not a child, and beside, he knows how to act upon unexpected twists. You pick the pillow, placing it in your arms, hugging it against you.

“... I hate it so much.„ you growl under your breath. Eyes closed and lost in your mind, you don't pay attention to the footsteps and the door opening. You only get out of your thoughts when you feel something, or rather someone, taking place on the mattress.

You turn around to see William sitting next to your laying form, his hand hovering over your hair, caressing it carefully. He has taken off his coat and changed his clothes to his usual sleep attire. “I find it flattering, you know? Your worries being on me. But I have my shares of worries over you, too.„ he chuckles.

It makes you groan silently, turning again to make him face your back. Seeing you holding your pillow so tight, he allows himself to lay beside you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Don't be upset, my dear. How about we plan a tea party tomorrow? As a token of apology for all those worries I fill your heart and mind with.„

Just the thought of it cracks a smile from you, and he sees it clearly. You slowly nod, closing your eyes as you lean further in his embrace. You know it wouldn't last forever, but you'd drown yourself in it for as long as it last.

It's an hour later he withdraws his arms from you, giving your hair one last stroke, before standing up. “I will see you tomorrow, my dear. Have a good night.„

As he walks away, you turn around, sitting up quickly, calling out his name. “... William!„. Your voice is so urgent, like your feelings are about to explode. “Yes?„ he turns to face you, his eyes softening at your desperate state.

“I...„ you hesitate. Is it truly a good idea to confess ? It isn't a secret for yourself anymore, you've fallen for him, smitten by his simple presence. But maybe it isn't a good thing to tell him... “... Take care... Goodnight...„

Something tells you by the look of his eyes, he knows you're hiding your feelings from him. But he doesn't push. Not yet. You're too vulnerable for now. He wants you to willingly admit them. He closes his eyes. “I will, thank you. I'll see you tomorrow.„ and with that, he leaves your room, the silence feeling it. Your feelings drowning you in slumber.

/ᐠ - ˕ •マ Ⳋmayuichi's property. do not repost, copy or translate without permission.

[eyelessfaces]

wine stain

llewyn davis x reader

hi I started writing this in october but never actually finished it and I thought it was kinda good when I reread it but I hated the plot so I changed it. anyways I hope you like it! also please note that this is my first time writing detailed smut in ages and I'm very insecure about it so please be indulgent :(

summary: life isn't fair to llewyn, but the man isn't quick to give up. an audition in chicago might change his life forever, and it does, but not the way he expected it to.

warnings: smut (minors dni!!), unprotected piv, oral sex, language (they swear a lot), alcohol consumption, smoking. mentions of pregnancy and abortion, one tiny joke about it. I am pro-choice and I don't want to offend anyone so if it bothers you just don't read this ffs.

tags: f!reader, friends to lovers, mutual pinning, llewyn is insecure asf and believes he doesn't deserve anything good, fucking oblivious idiots in love

word count: 5.7k (this is the longest thing I've ever written.)

Hot smoke escapes Llewyn’s cup of coffee, subtly mixing with the intoxicating smoke of the cigarette he holds between his fingers. You watch as the smoke goes up in the air, disappearing at the same level of his crumpled shirt collar. You desperately want to get up and fix it. You look away from it and sigh before talking.

“Spill the beans. I know this isn’t a casual cafe meeting. Or what Jean would call our ‘definitely not dates’ or whatever.” you say sinking into your chair, crossing your arms. “What do you want. Need. Same thing” you ask, watching him blow out his smoke as he raises an eyebrow at you.

“There’s no good answer is there?” he chuckles, licking his lips awkwardly when he sees that you’re not reacting to his poor attempt at a joke. “I need money.” he continues, lowering his voice. He leans forward and looks at you sternly. “Listen I hate asking you for this, but if I could do otherwise I wou-”

"Seriously? You’re still not getting anything?” you cut him off, raising an eyebrow.

His face relaxes, and he contorts it to a frown again.

“Believe me I’ve harassed Mel, it’s a miracle he’s not kicking me out. Only real money I get is from the gigs and saying it’s not enough is an understatement.” he huffs out, looking around the barely crowded cafe. “Please. I really need it. I’ll make it up to ya.” he pleads, looking back at you.

You roll your eyes when you think about the extra hours you’ll have to do to be able to pay your rent, but it’s Llewyn, and you care about him, so it’s…

 “...Fine.” 

Llewyn nods, weakly smiling at you.

“Thank you baby. Thank you” he nods fervently, thankful. “I would also need a place to crash at tonight…” he whispers with a sour face, knowing that it may be too much to ask you at once. 

You chuckle and give him a wave of your hand. “Whatever. But you’re taking me out once you have enough money” you say tilting your head forward, pointing at him.

“Sure thing.” he smiles. “Thank you dove.” 

You send him a quick smile before hiding it with your cup of coffee.

A thought occurs and you lick your lips in reflection as you put the cup down on its saucer.

“Abortion?” you ask abruptly, and he looks back at you with a startled face.

“What?”

“Is that why you need money? Again?” you clarify.

His confused face relaxes and he chuckles with a frown.

“It’s nice of you to assume I’m getting laid.” he chuckles, scratching the end of his cigarette in the ashtray.

You shrug. “I don’t know. You’re a hot talented musician after all” you say with a smirk, elbow planted on the table and chin resting on your palm. “Makes everyone faint”

He snorts. “Come on. Not when the hot talented musician is homeless and a dick” he pinches his lips in a skeptic smile.

“Yeah well that’s just you. And I don’t see anything wrong here” you smile, and Llewyn clears his throat.

“Well Jean told me it’d be a favor to people if I never fucked anyone ever again so I’m taking advice” he affirms, eyebrows raised as he brings his own cup of coffee to his mouth.

“Jean’s a bitch” you spit, crossing your arms and leaning back into your chair.

He chuckles and smiles.

“That’s no news.” he smiles. “Hum... The reason I need money is because I need to go to Chicago for an audition.”

“Chicago?” you ask, startled that he needs to go so far away.

“Yeah. Chicago.” he affirms, and looks through the window. It’s pouring and the wet road reflects the light of one small ray of sunshine passing through the clouds. 

“You’re fucking kidding me” you scoff. “Don’t tell me it’s an audition with that Bud Grossman guy” you sigh, slowly shaking your head.

Llewyn doesn’t answer and just looks back at you with a small pinched smile. You sigh. “When is it?”

“I’d need to leave tomorrow. It’s a pretty long ride” he affirms sinking in the back of his chair.

“No shit” you chuckle before taking another sip of your coffee. “It’s a whole ass trip.”

He nods and reaches for the pack of cigarettes on the table. You grab it before he can and he’s on the verge of calling you out for it but you speak before he can.

“You just finished smoking one. You smoke too much. Slow down.” you advise him putting down your cup of coffee, and he instantly rolls his eyes.

“Oh please.” he huffs. “Come on” he pleads, frowning.

You put the pack in your coat pocket and he sighs before laying further against the back of his chair.

His look darts to the window again. Few people are passing by and the rare ones that do are all protected by an umbrella and a raincoat. He’s just glad he’s crashing at your place tonight and not roaming around the whole city to look for a place to stay in this weather. 

“You’re gonna kill this.”

“Mh?” he asks absent-mindedly, still looking outside.

“Your audition. You’re so talented Llewyn. The trip is worth it” your words make him look back at you immediately, a small gap forming between his lips.

He wants to tell you that you don’t need to do that for him. That you don’t need to be so positive because he somehow always ends up fucking everything up. He really does. But at the same time he doesn’t think he’s ever felt his heart beat so fast.

“My first groupie!” he exclaims, unsure of how to respond wholeheartedly, instead using sarcasm as it’s what he does best. “Here it is.”

“Fuck you you asshole” you scoff, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Come on, I'm just messing with you” he scoffs. “Thank you for believing in me. You’re amazing” he nods and smiles. “You’re probably the only one that believes in me anyways.”

You weakly smile back at him. God you just wished this would work out for him. It’s all you ever wanted for him, truly.

“Can I get my cigarettes back now ?” he asks with a grin.

You roll your eyes and huff out a laugh before throwing the pack of cigarettes at him.

—

You gasp as you feel two arms wrap around your waist. You close your eyes with a sigh once your brain processes everything, and the corners of your mouth turn upwards.

“You scared me you moron. Nice shower?" you ask, still looking at the cooking pot in front of you.

Llewyn smiles as he nuzzles your hair.

“You have no idea. Probably the best shower I’ve had in ages” he affirms, his thumb caressing your clothed stomach. The gesture makes your heart skip a beat, but you quickly brush the thought off. You can’t think of him that way. “What you cookin’?” the question tears you out of your thoughts.

“Franks and beans. It’s a good thing you were able to come out of this bathroom, we’re eating soon.” you announce, stirring in the pot with the spatula.

“Awesome” he groans. “Thank you for letting me stay here tonight. The hell would I do without you” he sighs, and leans to quickly kiss your cheek.

You close your eyes and smile once again.

“Come on, go set the table. It’s ready soon” you affirm as you throw your chin towards the table. 

“‘kay chief” he throws as he opens the cabinet where you keep your plates.

You eat while drinking some wine and end the evening watching The Seventh Seal, your head quickly ending up resting over Llewyn’s shoulder. You can feel yourself drift off to sleep as the end credits appear, and get up from the couch before you actually pass out on it and on Llewyn.

“Imma head to bed” you mumble sleepily, grabbing one of your plaids to hand it to Llewyn. “Goodnight” you tiredly say as he takes the plaid before you turn around to leave for your bedroom.

“Hey. I’ll probably be gone by the morning.” he declares as he gets up from the couch, leaving the plaid hanging on the armrest. “So I’ll just say it now. Thank you for the money and the food.” he says as he walks up to you, hands buried in his slacks pockets. “And the couch, and for everything you’re doing for me in general. I really appreciate it. I love you.” 

You endearingly smile at him, reaching to gently stroke his wrist with your thumb.

“Good luck. I’ll be waiting for you. I love you”

—

When you come back home from work later than usual because of traffic three days later, Llewyn is curled up on your couch, asleep. 

Your apartment is bathed in darkness and you watch his sleeping figure as you take off your shoes and coat before walking to him, kneeling next to him by the couch.

You reach to turn on the lamp on the side table next to your couch, looking back at him and finally being able to see his peaceful state. You smile to yourself as soft snores escape his slightly agape mouth and his usual grumpy expression is long gone, and you kinda feel like a creep for watching him sleep but truthfully he looks like an angel and you feel bad for having to wake him up. 

You gently thread your fingers through his raven curls, softly calling his name, and he slowly opens his eyes, hazily sitting up and rubbing his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Fuck” he curses under his breath. “Shit I didn’t mean to fall asleep on your couch. Sorry”

“That’s okay” you reassure him, smoothing your hand along his forearm. “How was Chicago?” you ask him softly, and he suddenly chuckles and shakes his head.

“Shitty.” he declares. “Useless.”

The blank that fills the air in your apartment is overwhelming. You get up from your knees and sit next to him on the couch, propping your elbow onto the back of the couch, your hand holding your head. “I’m sorry” you pinch your lips in an empathetic smile. “Wanna talk about it?”

“No. Yeah. I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter anyways” he smiles tiredly as he looks up at you.

“If you wanna talk about it I’m all ears, and if you don’t that’s okay, you don’t have to.”

He sighs and rubs his eyes again. “It’s just… It was all for nothing.” he huffs out. “All I do to try to make it work is always for nothing at the end.” You swear you hear your heart crack at that moment. “Grossman advised me to get back with Mike when I told him I used to have a partner.” he scoffs.

You chuckle and shake your head in dismay. “Well that’s gonna be complicated” you say as you raise your eyebrows. “What a fucking moron” you mumble as you get up from your couch, going to the kitchen.

“I don’t wanna defend him but he couldn’t know” he declares as he follows you, leaning his side against the wall as you grab two glasses and a bottle of wine.

“I’m not exclusively talking about that. He’s a fucking moron for rejecting you” you say as you turn back to him, handing him the glass. He takes it and shrugs and you sigh as you fill it. “How many copies of your record would I have to buy to make you rich?”

He laughs before taking a sip of the wine, and he raises his eyebrows in amusement.

“You ending up homeless in your turn isn’t the point sweetheart” he says as he watches you pouring yourself some wine before leaving the bottle on the counter.

“I just want you to be okay.” the words weakly escape your mouth as you walk back to your living room, and his eyes light up at your words. God, if only you knew how much it meant to him that you wanted him to be okay, if only you knew how much you meant to him.

“Don’t worry about me angel. I’ll just go back to merchant marines” he sighs as he sits down on your couch.

You look down at him with empathetic eyes and take a sip from your glass before putting it down on the coffee table. “It’s gonna be okay” you tell him sitting down next to him, mostly trying to convince yourself. Truth is you rely a lot on how he feels.

He hums absent-mindedly, gaze lost in the void of your living room and leans to put his glass down too before shifting to face you and taking your hand in his. 

You look down at his hand, slowly and softly tracing his skin with your thumb.

“Llewyn” you whisper looking back at him, pushing away the curls falling over his face, threading your hand through the unruly dark curls.

He sighs softly as he looks up and down between your eyes and lips before his hands frame your face as his lips press over yours with more force than he had expected, like his eagerness to kiss you took over him. 

He’s not sure of his action and he’s fully convinced he has, once more, fucked another thing up like he always does as he doesn’t feel you moving, until he feels your hands join at his neck to bring him closer, deepening the kiss as you hum against his lips and as your tongues meet. 

It’s all the both of you had always been wishing for; diluting this unspoken tension between you, finally acting upon it. 

You shift to straddle his lap and he groans into your mouth as he pulls you closer by your hips, savoring every second of that kiss as if you’re going to slip through his fingers once you pull away, as if you’re going to regret all of this once it’s over. 

You know there is no reality where you could ever regret this; you had fantasized of doing this for ages and it’s even better than you had imagined this before; the wine somehow tastes better when it’s on his tongue, and you can feel the faint taste of cigarette in his warm breath as his broad hands run up and down your body, his body heat radiating against you.

You unconsciously hump against him as you want to get even closer, and a moan escapes your mouth, the friction against him deliciously relieving the growing ache between your legs.

“Fuck, Llewyn” you gasp against his mouth as you look down at your clothed crotches, evidently feeling his erection twitching under you even through the layers of clothes.

“Sorry baby” he whispers as his mouth chases yours, his gaze on you drunk and wanting. “Can’t really help it” the chuckle he lets out changes into a gasp when your hand shifts to palm him through his pants.

“The fuck are you sorry for?” you ask teasingly, a grin adorning your face as you leave his lap to kneel at his feet. He looks down at you speechless as you fiddle with his belt. “I know a way to make you feel better about all of this” He’s dreaming. This can’t be real.

“Sure but angel you– wh– you don’t have to–” he babbles as you’re working on freeing him of his confined space.

“I want to” you declare as you take his cock out, and fuck he’s hard and he’s huge and the heat pooling at your belly is becoming more and more pronounced. “If it’s okay” you look up at him, raising your eyebrows awaiting approval.

“Of course it is but we can– you don’t have to– oh shit” his pleas die on his tongue as you take him in your mouth, softly sucking his head as your hand strokes him. “Oh fuck” he groans, his head hitting the back of your couch.

This is a dream, it all happened so fast and there’s no way it’s real, he’s having another one of those dreams with you he’s so ashamed of, you never woke him up from his accidental nap on your couch, he’s still sleeping and this is not actually happening. 

Coming back to reality will be hard because fuck this feels so good and he’ll probably have to lock himself in your bathroom to actually get some relief once he wakes up.

He is confirmed of the realness of the situation when you grip the side of his thigh as if to tell him look at me while you softly lick the underside of him, shifting to trace every vein along his length, pre cum dripping from the head to coat your tongue.

“Is this okay?” you ask pulling away, the tip of your fingers still gently skimming his throbbing cock. He laughs at your question.

“Baby fuck–” he bucks into your hand after you swipe your thumb over his swollen tip. “Yes of course it’s okay” he chuckles as his hand cups your cheek, thumb caressing your cheekbone. “It’s more than okay” he declares as he looks down at you with lustful, dark half lidded eyes.

“Good” you smile up at him before sinking down and taking him fully at once without warning.

The moan that escapes his mouth is sinful and it makes you clench, and the light tug after his fingers shift to grip your hair goes straight to your cunt. 

You take him as deeply as you can, going up and down, tongue swirling around him from time to time. His head falls back against your couch once again, and he squeezes his eyes shut as his grip on your hair tightens.

“Holy shit dove– I don’t think I’m gonna last long” he manages to breathe out between whimpers, tightening his free hand into a fist to prevent himself from cumming right then and there into your mouth.

Then you pull away and he groans.

“What the fuck?” he asks startled as you get up, leaving him twitching and wanting, the feeling of his approaching orgasm slowly fading away.

“Jeez stop being so impatient” you taunt as you start unbuttoning your trousers, and his expression is priceless once he realizes what you have in mind.

“Oh–” you teasingly smile at him and slide your trousers down your legs. “Baby it’s not that I don’t want to but I don’t have any condoms and I can pull out but you know how cursed I am with all of this and–”

“I’m clean and on birth control it’s okay Llewyn” you cut him off of his tirade as you step out of the trousers at your ankles, throwing them to the side. “If you don’t want to do that it’s okay, I can finish you off by–”

You’re cut off when he grabs you by the hips, pulling you closer to the couch he’s sitting on, and you know he’s in for the ride – quite literally – when his thumbs hook into the hem of your underwear to slide them down your legs. He does the same, fully taking off his slacks and underwear and throwing them over the armchair across your couch.

He looks up at you like you’re a goddess, and even though his dick is aching and begging for release he takes his sweet time gazing at you like you’re the eighth wonder of the world.

You softly smile at him, brushing back the raven curls falling over his forehead, and giggles escape from your mouth when he unexpectedly drags you so you can straddle his lap.

He kisses all along your jawline, beard softly tickling your skin as he lavishes your neck next, his hands roaming along your curves, his right hand stopping between your thighs, two of his fingers gathering the slick of your folds.

“Shit– you’re fucking dripping” he breathes out against your neck, making you whimper at his touch. “Did you get that wet just from blowing me?” he teases, and you tug at the curls on the back of his head before reconnecting your lips to his, feeling him smirk against them.

Llewyn groans in your mouth as you wrap your fingers around his cock and slowly pump it, and he knows for sure that the gasp you let out when you slowly but easily sink down on his length will be engraved in his mind.

“Holy shit” you pant, burying your head in the crook of his shoulder once you’re fully seated on his throbbing length.

“You okay?” he asks, one hand anchored at your hip and the other one softly trailing up your bare back underneath your shirt.

“Yeah” you breathe out, frantically nodding against him as your arms wrap around his neck, and you slowly start rocking your hips. The little whimpers he lets out are music to your ears, and the way he softly gasps your name has you clenching around him.

“Fuck angel you’re so fucking tight” Llewyn hisses, leaving a trail of kisses along your neck as you thrust down on him, finally finding a steady pace that leaves the both of you sweating and panting, clinging to each other. “Taking me so fucking well” he grunts against the exposed skin of your neck, the roughness of his beard tickling the sensitive area. Tugging on his hair so he can look back at you, his hips jerk up, and you pull him in for a hungry kiss. 

Of course he would like you pulling on his hair.

Happy with the reaction it elicited from him and the information you just got, your hands are gripping on his curls as you roll your hips against him. He practically fucks his tongue into your mouth, and you almost choke into the kiss when his thumb meets and massages your clit in small circles.

You gasp his name, and his hand that was stroking your back earlier is now tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear as he drinks in the sight of you using him for your pleasure. 

“Wanna make you cum first” his voice is rough and deep with lust, and the way you bite on your lower lip as you slightly flutter around him because of his words seem to encourage him; his grip against your hips becomes more and more firm and controlling, his pelvis thrusting up into you with a force that you hadn’t expected from him, his movements meeting yours and making you throw your head back in pleasure.

“Fucking hell Llewyn” it comes out as a sigh, but if the walls of your apartment weren’t so thin you would have at least screamed it.

You know he won’t have much work to do as you can already feel yourself nearing your climax; it’s all starting to become too much, but the good kind of too much. 

You gasp in surprise when Llewyn manhandles you with the force you ignored he still had from his merchant marines days and knocks over one of the glasses of wine on the coffee table, the liquid pouring all over the surface and dripping down onto your wooden floor. 

“Shit Llewyn” you gasp, pushing your nails deeper into his arms. 

It’s honestly a miracle you managed not to fall and you back landed on the couch correctly.

The mission isn’t a complete success, but you’re too caught up in the moment to stop because of some stupid wine so you just manage to tell him “Fuck it just keep going” while wrapping your legs around his waist so he keeps going, even more fervently.

You’re now laying on your couch, Llewyn hovering over you and hitting deeper spots inside of you, each movement faster than the previous one; the wet sounds between your legs are lewd and get even filthier each time he pounds into you. 

He’s close. You can see it, you can feel it by the way his thrusts stutter slightly. 

His head tilts down to where you’re connected, watching himself disappear inside of you, bringing his hand to you clit again.

“Fuck are you gonna cum for me baby?” he asks, his voice dripping with lust and desire as he toys and rubs circles over your aching clit.

You whimper and hiss and cry his name as you get lost in the feeling of his fingers and his hips ramming further into you, all the tension in your body morphing into waves of pleasure as you reach your climax, fluttering around him and cumming in silent gasps.

Llewyn is quick to follow you as your orgasm was all he was waiting for to finally let himself go; his movements become sloppier and his hips start to stutter, his eyes finally rolling to the back of his head and his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he stills, his cock spurting his cum deep inside of you. 

He grunts, and your head falls back into the couch as you feel drained of all your energy. Llewyn curses under his breath as he rests his forehead against your shoulder, panting, before pulling out and collapsing on top of you, his head resting against your chest. 

You both catch your breaths, staying here for a while with your fingers softly running through his hair before you start blissfully laughing, all the tension and seriousness of the situation fading away. 

He rests his head to the side, facing the scenery of the knocked over glasses still swaying over your coffee table. “Fucking hell your floor” he gasps before looking up at you, realizing the mess you have made with the wine.

“I’ll just put a rug over the stain I guess” you sigh. “It was worth it” you chuckle and lean down to kiss him. “I’m glad you didn’t take advice from Jean after all”

“What?” he asks, still dizzy from his climax.

“Not fucking anyone ever again, remember?” you ask and he laughs, getting up and walking to where he left his clothes to get dressed again.

“Yeah, well you better be consistent on your birth control because apparently my spermatozoids are warriors, and I wouldn’t want Jean to make a point” he chuckles as he slides into his slacks.

“We should be fine” you mutter while sitting up, reaching to pick your underwear from the floor. “I’ll call you if I need an abortion” you joke, standing up to put your underwear back on. “Ugh fuck” you whine picking up your trousers, seeing the wine stain covering it.

“I’ll help you clean and I’ll just… go” he mutters, scratching his forehead.

“Why do you wanna go” you ask absent-mindedly, walking to the kitchen to try to save your trousers from the wine stain.

“I don’t know” he declares following you into the kitchen before standing against your counter, hands gripping the edge of it. You look at him and he looks absent, livid, almost sick, and it is too much just for it to be his post-orgasm haze. 

You frown, and when you realize why he might want to leave your heart breaks a little.

“Did I do or say something wrong?” you ask. Maybe the abortion joke was too much, maybe you got fooled and he was just horny and needed to let it out of his system and regretted it now. “Llewyn do you…” you fully turn towards him, searching for your words. “Do you think this was a mistake?” you ask looking back at him, letting the garment rest in the sink. “Us sleeping together?”

“Me? No” he scoffs. The tension hangs in the air as you’re waiting for him to elaborate. “I figured you would”

You sigh and take a step closer to him.

“Llewyn no… Why would I?” you chuckle, almost offended at the thought.

“I don’t know. Nothing I do is ever good so why would this be any different?” he shrugs, closing his belt.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose and shaking your head.

“No. You’re a fucking idiot.” you mutter under your breath.

“I know.” he replies quickly, not wasting one second. He walks back to your living room, gathering his stuff to go, really wanting to avoid having a fight with you, and preparing to leave like he had planned to.

“I don’t mean it like that. You wanna know why you’re a fucking idiot?” you ask rhetorically, following him closely. “You think you’re not good enough for everything you do in life when truth is, you’re just really unlucky.” you declare, “And you act like a jerk because you’re scared of actually succeeding in something.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Well surely you’re right about that too” he scoffs, pulling out his cigarette pack from his pocket.

“Don’t smoke inside of my apartment” you hiss. 

“I told you, I’m leaving.” he almost immediately snaps, putting the cigarette in his shirt pocket, taking his guitar case and his box of things, his coat thrown over it.

You sigh and put a hand over your forehead, and watch as he passes in front of you to go to your entry. 

It is now or never, or else it will never be the same. Tonight you had taken a step forward, but by taking this step forward you had also taken two steps backwards, and if you didn’t try to save this now it would never be saved.

“Llewyn” you call, and something breaks inside him at the sound of your voice. You had never called his name so weakly, so pleadingly.

He turns and finally looks at you, establishing eye contact for more than five seconds for the first time since your sexual encounter. He closes his eyes and shakes his head.

“I fucked this up too, didn’t I” he mutters, and you pinch your lips as it is your turn to shake your head as you step closer to him.

“No. No you didn’t.”

He looks down at the stuff he’s carrying and sighs.

“I don’t really wanna go.” he declares softly.

“Then stay,” you nod. “Please. I don’t want you to go.” you say as you take a step forward, taking the box from his hands. “If you leave I would need to run after you in just my shirt and underwear, and frankly I don’t want to do that” you smile slightly as you put his stuff down on the floor.

He laughs and puts the rest of his belongings on the floor too, and when he looks back at you he notices you’re still looking down on the floor, gaze lost in your thoughts.

“Honey is there–”

“Do you think sleeping together was a mistake?” you cut him off, looking back at him. 

“No. Of course not. I’d do it again.” he declares. “I mean if–”

“I get it. Don’t worry” you chuckle. 

A small silence fills the room before you get an idea.

“Hey, follow me” you say as you tilt your head. You cross your small apartment, Llewyn following you closely, grabbing your wrist as you push your bedroom door.

“Sweetheart I’d love to but I don’t think I can go again– I mean not right now”

“I’m not bringing you here to have sex again” you declare, a chuckle escaping your lips as you see his face relaxing and his hold on your wrist loosening up. You sit on the edge of your bed, and he watches you from a distance, leaning against the doorframe. “Come here” you call, patting the spot right beside you. Llewyn hesitantly sits beside you, and his gaze shifts to your face when you grab his hand.

“This could be your bed, if you wanted it to be.” The sound of your voice rings in his ears. “You wouldn’t have to sleep on my couch again. Or any other couch.” you declare, brushing back his unkempt hair, and he looks at the bed behind him as if to contemplate what he could have. 

He looks back at you, and he knows that he knows his answer. He doesn’t hesitate for one second on what he would rather have, because if he could be by your side forever, he would be. But something inside of him is not sure if you want him to be by your side forever.

He nods. He nods and he licks his lips in reflection, and he looks back at the bed before looking back at you again. “I don’t want this to be exclusively sexual” he declares, squeezing your hand tighter.

“Me neither” you smile, a wide smile that makes his heart sink. You grab his face and kiss him, and he savors this kiss like it’s the last thing he’s ever going to do. But if kissing you was the last thing he’d do, he would be satisfied with that.

You pull away from his lips and lay down on the bed, and his hand rests against your bare thigh while he looks at you. And he looks at you like you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

He lays down next to you with a grunt, facing the ceiling, and you prop yourself against your elbow to face him.

“I’ll just ask you one thing” you declare, firmly looking at him.

“Mh?” he hums, looking at you.

You lick your lips and let your fingers trail along the side of his face. 

“Stop thinking you don’t deserve anything good.” you whisper, and his face shifts so he can kiss the tip of your fingers.

“Eh, I’ll try,” he smirks, shrugging. You shake your head and lean down to kiss him again, but he hovers over you and pins you down before you have the chance to do it.

You laugh and he kisses you, hungrily, and shifts down to leave a trail of kisses to your neck and collarbone as a defeated sigh escapes your mouth.

“Okay so I’ll give you time to work on the imposter syndrome. But now we can only have sex if you promise me you won’t hate yourself after we’re done”

He pulls away from your skin, and looks up at you. 

“I can do that.”

You spend a long night offering Llewyn your bed, the uncleaned stain of wine on your floor long forgotten.

But at least years later, when you’re engaged to Llewyn and packing to move out somewhere bigger and the time comes when you have to remove the rug, it reminds you of that specific night, and you can’t help the fluttering feeling of the butterflies in your stomach, accompanied right away by a tiny kick. The very first one.

—

comments and reblogs are always appreciated!!

inside llewyn davis taglist: @apollo-enthusiast @scarabgrant @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @missmarmaladeth @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @beccabecs521

[random-writing-thoughts]

Thought #206

Feel free to change the pronouns. 😁😁

Warnings: swearing, talk of cheating

That fucking bastard.

Civilian stormed into the art museum.

"Hello Civi..." Receptionist looked at Civilian's mascara smudged face. "What happened?"

Civilian gave them her card. "I don't want to talk about that right now. Can I just get in? Is my favorite painting still on display?"

"Yes and yes. Let me know if I can do anything." Receptionist handed her card back.

Civilian grabbed her card. "Can I have tissues?"

Receptionist nodded and handed her a box of tissues.

"Thank you." Civilian said softly.

She made her way through the galleries as tears streamed down her face.

With my best friend. What kind of low life cheats on their girlfriend with their best friend? And he proposed to her? Without breaking up with me first?

Civilian plopped down on a bench and covered her eyes.

"And I thought I was having a bad day." Someone said softly next to them.

Civilian glared at him. "Usually people don't talk to others who are crying in an art museum."

The handsome stranger laughed. "I didn't know there were rules for this specific situation. I should have reread the rule book."

She let out a small laugh and wiped her eyes.

"What's got you so upset?" He asked placing his hand over hers making her stomach flutter.

She took a deep breath. "My boyfriend just cheated on me. And proposed to my best friend." She stopped and looked at him.

His eyes looked at her with kindness. Understanding.

Why am I telling a stranger my life story? Why do I trust him?

"Sorry. I didn't mean to unload that on you." She said softly pulling her hand from his.

"That guys an idiot." He tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear and wiped some mascara from her face. "Why would someone give up a girl as pretty as you?"

Civilian laughed. "Thanks." She said softly. "What brings you here?"

"I was just going to steal a painting."

Civilian froze.

"Just kidding." He laughed and Civilian relaxed. "I'm just here to see the beautiful art."

His eyes never left hers.

Civilian blushed and turned away from him.

He stood. "Do you want to walk around and forget about your terrible day?" He held out his hand. "Unless there's a new rule in this museum rule book I don't know about that says I can't ask a beautiful girl who was crying to walk around with me."

She laughed, her stomach fluttering again, and grabbed his hand. "I'll have to double check, but I'm pretty sure there isn't."

He pulled her close and wrapped his arm around her. He grabbed the tissue box from her and put it on the bench.

"I don't think you need those anymore."

She smiled at him, as they started to walk through the gallery.

"If you were actually here to steal a painting which one would you steal?" She asked as they looked at a large masterpiece by Rembrandt.

He paused and stroked his chin. "Hmm... if I was to steal one I think it would be your favorite painting."

"Why? So I couldn't see it anymore?" Her eyes were laser focused on the Rembrandt.

He laughed. "No." He looked down at her. Fascinated with how much joy was on her face as she studied the painting. How she looked more relaxed. "So you could look at it every single day."

She turned and met eyes with him. "You wouldn't sell it or try and get money from it?"

"Why would I do such a thing? I would have much more joy seeing you study it than the money I would get from it."

She blushed and turned away. "Good thing you aren't an art thief then. I don't know what I would do with a masterpiece."

"At least show it to me so I can plot my course of action when I want to steal it."

She smiled. Bigger than she had all night. "OK. If you can keep up."

She pushed away from him and took off down the hallway. He chuckled and took off after her.

He tried to keep up with her, but she was quick. She had ducked into multiple galleries and had disappeared.

He wandered around until her found her standing still in front of a painting.

He walked up to her and draped his arm around her shoulder. "Tell me about it."

She took a deep breath. "This is Christina’s World by Andrew Wyeth."

"I love this one because I see myself in Christina. I'm alone. And so is she."

"Did you relate to this painting before your boyfriend cheated?" He looked down at her sad eyes.

"Yes. I've felt alone my entire life. My dad wasn't around and my mom had to work three jobs to get me through school. Even when I was dating my ex I always felt alone. He wasn't around much. I should've known he was cheating. All the..."

"Don't." Stranger said sharply. "He was an asshole."

Civilian looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

"None of that is your fault. He screwed you over. He's a fucking loser. You deserve so much better. You should never feel alone in a relationship. Never."

She sniffled and wiped her eyes.

He pulled her into a tight hug.

She grabbed at his jacket and looked up at him with a laugh. "I only met you an hour ago. Why do I feel so safe around you?"

He smiled. "I don't know, but I feel the same way."

She rested her head on his chest. "Can you walk me home? I'm nervous Ex or Best Friend is there."

"Of course." He rubbed her back as she pulled away from him.

Damn it. I really wanted to steal something tonight. Supervillain is going to kill me, but hopefully they will understand.

Stranger Villain thought to themselves as they walked Civilian home.

Next

[l-in-the-light]

Love your account ❤️🥰 What do you like best about Law?

Thank you <3 Sorry for the late reply, I was sitting on this one for a while, because I thought giving it time would help me write a better answer. But this is so difficult, because where do I even start? How can I say what I have in my heart so it doesn't actually just sound weak and pretentious, but also not extremely dramatic?

Maybe let's start from the fact I didn't fall for him at first sight. I totally didn't care about him in Sabaody when I first read that arc. The first moment he truly earned my sympathy was his confession in Dressrosa, I went all whoa, I was hoping for some open show of emotions, but I didn't expect this intensity hiding under the surface. Then Wano happend and he was so cool in Wano. And then I caught up with the manga in Egghead arc. He still wasn't my favourite, but things were slowly changing. I started noticing how much I actually miss him in the story. I started worrying for him. Finally, I gave up and just reread his parts from earlier arcs and damn it just hit differently the second time around. Before I noticed it he became one of my top 3 characters. Soon after, he sneakily took the number 1 spot as well without me realizing.

I love how unyielding he is, especially against Doflamingo, someone who constantly gaslights him. And oh boy I have been in that spot before, when a mentor figure tries to push their own way of seeing things without listening even for a moment to other reasons. I'm always surprised by Doflamingo-Law conflict in Dressrosa exactly because of that; Law keeps pushing in what he believes in instead. Even fandom buys Doflamingo's point of view on Law: yes, he's just a pitiful vengeful ghost, he's just lashing out, he needs to be put back into his place and silenced. But no, Law's not having any of that. It feels like a catharsis for me to see that and it restored my own faith, at least a little bit, because if Law could deal with all that shit and didn't truly lose (technically he did, but it was to his own good heart imo), then inevitably I also feel myself becoming more unyielding, it rubs off.

He's so unbelievably strong, but it's not about his attacks or power, but mental strength. And I wish I was at least a bit as strong as him. Between Doflamingo, Law's traumas, fears and putting up a confident front when he feels anything but that, smirking at those who lose to their own arrogance, I'm really amazed he is as strong as he is. And it's not just about him never giving up, because of course he has moments like that, but he always, always gets back up and it's probably never for himself, but for others that are dear to him.

And there's also his resemblance to Ace (and Sabo) somehow, because they're inevitably all older brother types. But while Ace is rough around the edges but his love is so warm, Sabo's soft and supportive but is also a bit self-centered, Law's something else entirely. He's just so avoidant, but at the same time kinda soothing and gently watching from afar, like the moon, you don't usually see it in the day but you know it's always there. That's his kind of love. It's captivating, but it doesn't exactly warm me up when I think about it like when I think of Ace, it doesn't make me feel the fluff like when I think of Sabo, but instead it's like a strong, tingling light that shines not in the sky but inside the heart, when you need it the most: in the middle of utter darkness.

His loyal love to Cora-san, his unobvious but gentle ways of showing affection, his good heart, his sharp smiles and unyielding spirit, reckless and petty paybacks, his shitty and brooding attitude, his serious but trolling sense of humour, I definitely like all of this about him. And sometimes he's just simply insufferable and I enjoy that about him as well. Every time I discover a new thing or detail about him, I like him only more.

[etoilesombre]

I sometimes wish I could better articulate my words because I really need a deep dive of how Jim Hawkins and Silver’s relationship, as messy and confounded and sweet as it is, is actually the back bone of a skeleton of how bs silver’s are represented.

Silver’s gift he can give is that the people he loves lives no matter how much they might want to die, and I think that particular “trait” was from the genes of THAT relationship. Same with silver’s weird conflict with his own selfish desires and the wants and needs of the people he may or may not care about it. Considering his crew mates turn on him because he defended Jim too much.

Treasure island kind of echos backward and it drives me insane.

I don’t know, I know they are too different things but also yknow I think there is a big reason James was the name they went with for Flint and Jim Hawkins is a big reason for that.

Also it ever kill you that madi and flint only spent maybe a few months to a year with silver but HANDS spent 25 years with him, if you think about how long black sails and treasure islands time gap must be. That kills me.

Oh thank you I hadn't really thought about it through that lens, I don't tend to be super TI focused (mostly because Black Sails makes it so devastating I tend to look away, but I think I'm getting there, I know it's time for a serious reread, I definitely see the echoing backwards, the show always knew that relationship was the endpoint. (Good point about the name.)

I feel like to the extent Silver grants protection to people around him, he's unaware of it, or does have some counterevidence. After all he lost Muldoon, and that was absolutely not the same level of relationship, but in his head it is absolutely possible for him to fail to save people when they are caught up in Flint's Bullshit. Which means it probably also seemed totally possible to him that Jim Hawkins (who he is categorizing more like Muldoon than Flint probably, right) is absolutely vulnerable.

Regarding conflicting desires, I think that it's interesting that when the conflict is between what we traditionally think of as selfish desires (money, safety and security for oneself) Silver ends up picking love and connection over those types of goals, almost despite himself. But when it comes to a conflict between keeping the people he loves safe vs respecting their own desires and self determination, he chooses to keep them safe even if it destroys the relationship. (or in Flint's case maybe puts him down like a mad dog but he's sad about it and its still for love and safety overall.)

also YES OH MY GOD how short a time he had of actual vulnerable love and connection and belonging, and then Israel Hands is the opposite of that, its utter loyalty WITHOUT love/connection/vulnerability, which feels safe for Silver but must be devastating, you can WATCH him undo all the progress that was made over the course of the show. The scene where he slaps Silver and basically tells him to shut up and stop being a pussy makes me cry like, almost as reliably as the end. And then we can infer that Silver stays stuck there. For so many years. If I could change one thing about the course of canon it would be Isreal Hands dying early on. If he has a thousand haters I'm one, if he has a hundred I'm one, etc etc fuck that guy.

[theghostofpyke]

i don't know if you still answer asks since you're in more of a art-over-meta after the deactivation debacle (i do miss all the meta though! i hope you'll feel comfortable enough to speak up more eventually.) , but what are your thoughts on theon durden? for lucidity that's a theory that theon is the ghost in Winterfell responsible for the deaths and is repressing it, or at least 'A' ghost (along with the spearwives and big walder). personally i think it's kind of ridiculous and was literally disproven but i've been doing a reread lately and some things aren't adding up, like the credibility of the lords, some throwaway lines, and the mummer's play idea where roose is in the role of theon in ACOK and theon now is reek ii, who was already up to some murders then. so, what are your thoughts on this? have a lovely day!

hi! i do still enjoy asoiaf talk and asks! (i've mostly been pretty busy),

as for the theory that a dissociated theon is the secret murderer in adwd winterfell...

the pros:

as you said, adwd winterfell calls back to theon's acok situation: an 'illegitimate' ruling winterfell, his hold slipping, an increasing number of his men mysteriously murdered. lest readers forgot over the span of four books, grrm even goes out of his way to remind us:

It all seemed so familiar, like a mummer show that he had seen before. Only the mummers had changed. Roose Bolton was playing the part that Theon had played the last time round, and the dead men were playing the parts of Aggar, Gynir Rednose, and Gelmarr the Grim. Reek was there too, he remembered, but he was a different Reek, a Reek with bloody hands and lies dripping from his lips, sweet as honey. Reek, Reek, it rhymes with sneak.

in acok, at least part of the murders are committed by ramsay, who is masquerading as reek. the fun parallel then would consist of reek, who is masquerading as theon, being a secret murderer, too.

adwd theon also calls back to acok arya: both are noble characters forced into a 'servant' position, made to serve roose bolton, both of them captives, torture survivors, eating vermin to survive starvation, moving as "ghosts" navigating sadistic abusers who constantly abuse them (and so on and so forth, i could go on).

again lest readers forgot over the span of several books, "the ghost of winterfell" will serve to remind us of "the ghost of harrenhal", and the threat in acok arya "he will cut off your feet" which plays such a plot-moving role (first terrorising arya and gendry into submission, then catalysing their escape) is recalled near verbatim by jeyne: "he doesn’t need to cut my feet off, I won’t try to run away, not ever".

the murders also call back to each other:

ryswell's man in adwd is "a drunk" who "pissed off the wall" then "slipped and fell" (they first assume) and broke his neck, whose face has been eaten off by grey jeyne* (*that specific dog, too! arya->jeyne, grey girl, etc). chiswyck, the rapist targeted by arya in acok, fell off a battlement, drunk, and broke his fool neck. mh! weese, (who parallels ramsay as local little sadist-bully), is eaten by his dog. hm! gelmarr, theon's man in acok, tumbled down some stairs and broke his back, rednose, a drunk, tries to drink less and takes a dog with him to protect him, yet dies. yellow dick in adwd is found with his dick cut off and stuffed into his mouth, while drennan is killed in acok with his breeches tangled around his feet. and squint was presumably eaten by direwolves.

well, there's only so many ways medieval people can get brutally murdered, i guess, but the sense of "hey, i read this one before" is certainly real and deliberate.

the thought then here essentially is: oh, in acok winterfell "reek" is causing murders and in acok harrenhall "the ghost of harrenhal" is causing murders, so wouldn't it be so poetic and beautiful and all of that if in adwd winterfell "reek" and "the ghost of winterfell" were in fact responsible for the murders?

which, sure, i can see the appeal, however:

the cons:

it is my opinion that parallels in asoiaf often serve to create an epic feel of cohesion across povs and subplots. multiple pov structures are not particularly unique in fantasy, but what makes asoiaf special is the extraordinarily high number of povs and the complexity of each, where even characters that aren't main characters, like catelyn or theon, or even third-tier characters like aeron, get complicated stories of their own. grrm once explained (i paraphrase from memory) that writing asoiaf is like writing multiple novels at once then finding a way to combine and balance them.

one way to bind these povs together, apart from the more challenging grind of wrangling the logistics and the plot of course, is using refrains, repetition, rhythm, little motifs played in variation across povs, callbacks, all of that. the sense created is that you are reading a mosaic of different tales that function near independently from each other and also form one coherent epic moving forward as one. very fun!

parallels can serve to tell us something about specific characters, yes, though not "character A is like character B", rather it's an invitation to pay attention to something: remember, you heard that one before! is this different now, if so, why? is this the same, what do you think? the aim here isn't always to connect two characters, it can serve to create a mood about the way or the state of the world.

it's also not foreshadowing: "if A parallels B, then to B will happen what happened to A". a lot of joy on the contrary comes from things being the same but different. same description, but used in a different context, but you remember it, so you enjoy it. same string of events, different outcome. same words, different meaning. same story different story, it's all connected, every individual counts-- the asoiaf mood.

well that was a lot of rambling only to make my point, which is that parallels do criss-cross adwd theon & acok arya & acok theon and none of this makes it appealing to imagine theon as secret assassin because "we already read this story twice so let's hear it again".

adwd theon is about theon's powerlessness and finding agency beyond this powerlessness, about theon as scapegoat for northern problems and desires which is tied to theon's lifelong role as hostage/sacrifice, about retribution as horror and questioning what theon 'deserves', (and so on).

if theon secretly had been able to act as avenger/warrior/killer all along that would imo break his adwd arc, undermine the whump of theon's bad state (barely able to hold his cup but he's doing all that), diminish the moving tale of finding his way back to action and the choices he makes: remembering his name, risking it all to help jeyne escape. it just wouldn't hit the same way had theon been crawling winterfell as avenger/brainwashed assassin for weeks beforehand. plus the need to explain how and why theon chose these particular victims. and i'm someone who is very excited in fic and daydream by an adwd/post-adwd theon that isn't all broken victim but also vengeful and causing problems. but this just doesn't appeal to me.

plus, grrm is quite decent at psychology, imo. characters make sense in how complicated they are. asoiaf plays with tropes including classic horror tropes, we have some dracula and some frankenstein and so on and so forth, so why not some jekyll and hyde, you might say. (that would be a pro i guess). but i want to believe that grrm wouldn't play it straight like that, and considering the way he writes extremely traumatised characters like tyrion or arya or dany or theon i want to trust him that he wouldn't then suddenly go: "ha! evil DID! bet you didn't see that coming, lol"

theon durden secret assassin theories pick up on the ways in which grrm writes theon's dissociated mind -- losing time, memory and perception and emotion being all jumbled, ambiguous encounters between psychosis and dissociation and reality, etc -- and instead of appreciating goes "oh this is a puzzle i must solve." no! just enjoy... this isn't to say that, should we ever get the next book, grrm won't use the pockets of time lost and fragmentation in theon's pov to fill them with additional knowledge that will shift our understanding of what happened (or tell us more about the hooded man). but it won't be a neat little personality split with a secretly skilled assassin hiding in theon's mind.

tldr; it's one of these theories so typical of asoiaf fandom in that they pick up on fun parallels and "cues" while dismissing character arcs and psychology. kind of like "wouldn't it be so poetic if arya killed jeyne" and all of these. playing with pattern recognition but uninterested in the characters themselves. not even enhancing the patterns... the theon-jeyne-arya & theon-roose-ramsay parallels are here anyway. this theory doesn't improve on them or add to them. it's just like, "ha! i noticed this!". not exciting, imo.