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lucysarah-c · 2 days ago
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Mounting Spring Ch. 3
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Summary: Paradis has opened its doors to the world, and the Rumbling has not yet occurred. The military board insists, "We need more Ackermans!" to avoid ruining Mikasa's life. Levi agrees. Arranged marriage, explicit consent, Omegaverse. Alpha! Levi x Omega! Y/N. Mentions of underage marriage but it doesn't happen, the reader is over 21.Age gap but they are both adults. (I would say enemys to lover but they don't even know eachother to be enemys lol.) Author note: I've had this idea for so long… Omegaverse is my guilty pleasure, and I decided to treat myself with it. From the creator of "Not in season?" I bring to you "Mounting Spring" lmao haha sorry it's just that my first omegaverse was rather a success… so I decided to do another. Masterlist to the previous parts! Ao3 link in case you prefer to read there!
The raindrops fell over the cobblestones, and, in particular, those falling from the gable were heavy against the small porch of the chapel where she waited. She breathed into her hands, seeking warmth as she tilted her head to the side. Now alone, she felt her curiosity begin to spark, like a cat finally let out of its carrier. 
The narrow side streets hinted at the town’s size and social standing, with only one main road that, incidentally, was the only paved one. She guessed that if the weather hadn’t been so dreary, she could have seen the end of it. Her more optimistic side blamed the weather, but the town struck her as dreadful. In the distance, her attention was drawn to the farmer who had been inside with them. 
He was talking to someone she assumed was his wife or another townsperson, with his horse beside him and a border collie patiently waiting against his leg. Eventually, both of them turned to look at her, and she stiffened under their scrutiny. 
‘Should I... wave at them? Don’t small towns know everyone? Should I start getting to know everyone?’ 
But as her mind filled with these thoughts, they turned back to talk to each other. She pressed her lips together, feeling time drag painfully. The coat over her head made her uneasy. Almost involuntarily, she took a few deep breaths, catching a faint scent in the air, and then another, more focused sniff. It felt like cheating somehow, though it wasn’t, as her nose itched from his scent, and her body seemed to process it more deeply. 
‘It’s deeper than Die...’ she thought melancholically. Perhaps it was because she hadn’t encountered many unmated alphas in her life, or at least hadn’t gotten close enough to catch their scent. ‘Well… isn’t he humanity’s strength? ...something like that. I guess it takes some strong genes to be called that.’ 
“All right.” Levi’s voice startled her, and she tensed, turning to see him. He was drenched from his search for horses but seemed to handle it with a calmness, like sheep who don’t mind the sky falling on them. His hand held the reins of two horses, and, if her mind hadn’t been elsewhere, she might have chuckled. 
The black horse was absurdly tall and elegant, while the other was a dirty white with grayish spots, shorter and with bulkier legs. 
“You can have the one I rented if you prefer,” Levi offered, handing her the reins. But she didn’t take them right away. 
“Um…” She hesitated. “Sorry. I’ve never ridden alone,” she explained. Then, feeling the need to clarify, she added, “I usually just take carts.” 
Levi quickly grasped the issue. After a brief consideration, he reached back and switched the reins. "Take mine," he said, extending the reins of the black mare instead. "She’s calm and obedient.”  Levi said, nodding toward the mare. “Scout-trained.”  
She looked at the tall, sleek horse in front of her, nerves clear on her face. He jerked his thumb at the other smaller, stocky white one. “This one, I don’t know.” 
Her hand tentatively moved forward to touch the mare’s nose. At her touch, the horse nudged forward, her dark eyes focused intently on her. The mare’s imposing size made her hesitate. “Can’t we just ride together?” 
Levi, double-checking the saddle, looked back and replied firmly, “No. Too much mud on the way. I don’t want to put extra weight on her.” 
When he finished adjusting the saddle, he held out his arm, gesturing for her to step closer. He gave her a once-over and instructed, “Take the cloak underneath. No point in wearing it now that it’s soaked.” 
‘Well… he does enjoy giving orders,’ she thought. 
Feeling self-conscious under his observant gaze, she removed his coat, then unfastened her cloak, which was heavy and sodden. Her cheeks flushed as she noticed the white dress beneath was now damp and clung uncomfortably. She quickly ran her hands over her arms, trying to cover up, but Levi moved smoothly, placing his coat back over her shoulders before tossing the soaked cloak over the mare’s back. 
She took her position beside the mare, gripping the saddle, though her uncertainty was plain. “But… with my dress and that saddle, it’ll be difficult to ride with my legs on the side.” 
“Ride with your legs apart.” 
She looked over her shoulder at him as he moved to help her up. Despite his short height, he hoisted her up smoothly onto the mare. She was perched high above him now, gripping the reins and feeling the unfamiliar weight of control. Levi stepped back and gave her a once-over, as though to make sure she was seated safely. 
“This isn’t very ladylike,” she murmured, her voice carrying a note of unease as the powerful animal shifted beneath her. 
Levi raised an eyebrow, still maintaining his stoic look but with a glint of dry humor breaking through. “Well,” he said, his voice calm and low, “I’m the husband now, and I don’t mind it.” 
But the silence that followed told him all he needed to know: she didn’t find it funny. 
“Just hold steady,” he advised, placing a hand on the mare’s neck in an almost fatherly pat. “She’s been through rougher trips than this.” 
The mare, as if responding to his touch, lowered her head, brushing her soft nose against his hair and disheveling it slightly, so that her dark fur mingled with his equally raven locks. 
With that, he took the reins and knotted them to the other horse and swung himself up with practiced ease, barely flinching at the wet leather. It struck her that he was completely in his element, as if he belonged here in this bleak weather and muddy roads, as if he barely noticed the discomfort. 
The rain pattered steadily, its soft murmur filling the quiet as Levi guided his horse through the thickening gloom of the forest. Her soaked white cloak hung limply from the horse’s saddle. The water on it was counterproductive to keep the warmth, so she took it off. The green trench coat pulled over her head helped more, but it was far from miraculous. Despite the rain, a thick fog was rising as they left the small countryside town and ventured deeper into the forest. Soon, the cobblestones ended, leaving the horses to trudge through thick mud. The road became nearly invisible just a few steps ahead, and she cast a nervous glance at the forest, which seemed to stretch on endlessly. 
“Captain… shouldn’t we wait? It’s getting dark, and it could be dangerous,” she murmured, eyeing the shifting shadows between the trees. 
Levi’s response was firm, almost cutting. “I told you to call me Levi, and don’t worry.” His tone was as sharp as his gaze ahead. She wasn’t convinced, her brows knitting together in silent protest. Y/N clung tightly to the saddle of the black mare Levi had called his own. His raven hair stuck to his forehead as the rain poured mercilessly on him without his trench coat. When she pressed again, “But—” he cut her off. 
“I wouldn’t do anything dangerous,” he declared, his tone allowing no debate. “If I say it’s safe, it’s safe. Understood?” 
She murmured a reluctant hum, clearly displeased, but he glanced back over his shoulder, eyes piercing. “I didn’t hear you.” 
She swallowed, muttering low, “Understood.” The word fell with barely concealed disdain, and under her breath, she added with a hint of defiance, “…sir.” 
‘He said it wasn’t that far...’ but as they continued, it became clear that the headquarters weren’t close by. 
Each step the horse took forward felt like moving deeper into an enclosure, further away from family and friends. Eventually, the rocky forest path opened onto the scouts' rustic facility—a large training field of neatly trimmed grass and a main building looming in the darkness, with smaller buildings in the back. She squinted, barely able to make them out through the thick fog but guessed they might be the barracks, possibly separated by gender. 
She thought they would stop at the main doors, but Levi guided the horses further. The place overwhelmed her—she didn’t know where to look, and the quietness, at least from the outside, only made her more curious. 
“Where is everyone?” she asked. 
Levi looked around the quiet training grounds. “It’s late. Most of the soldiers are in the mess hall for dinner or getting ready for curfew,” he explained, his eyes sweeping the area with practiced vigilance. “Especially in this shitty weather.” 
He dismounted near a back entrance, which seemed to be a service area littered with discarded training materials. When the horses stopped, she moved to dismount, glancing down to gauge the distance to the ground. 
“Need help?” he asked, already striding over with firm steps, his boots far better equipped for the weather than hers. He positioned himself behind her and said, “Let go, I got you.” 
With his hands under her arms, he lifted her down with surprising ease. She turned quickly to face him, but he just said, “Stay here. I’ll put the horses away.” before she could protest. 
Though Levi’s presence didn’t exactly warm the atmosphere, his absence made the cold settle in even deeper. She shifted uncomfortably, her gaze darting around hectic —taking in the swaying trees under t the gusting wind, the flashes of lightning splitting the clouds. While the rain had momentarily stopped on the way back, it was obvious it wasn’t over. The forest sounds felt ominous in the dark, with only dim light illuminating the semi-open area at the back of the building. 
‘I feel like a doe... in the middle of a meadow.’ 
Ignoring Levi’s instruction, she opened the door and stepped inside. She glanced down both ends of the corridor, where yellowish candlelight cast a warm glow. The hum of distant voices filled the air, and she wrinkled her nose in distaste. ‘It stinks.’ 
It reeked of alphas—too many of them. Down the corridor to her left, she saw two young women, a brunette and a dark-haired one, passing by. The brunette noticed her standing in the hallway and looked back with a puzzled expression. 
‘Alright, maybe this time I should actually introduce myself.’ 
She raised a hand slightly, giving a tentative wave, but the brunette turned, calling out to someone— 
“I thought I told you to stay there.” Levi’s voice cut in from behind, firm with a trace of irritation as he locked the back door. Without further comment, he led her up a nearby staircase, his movements swift and purposeful. 
“But—” she started to object, glancing to the side, but he was already nudging her forward. His hand hovered at her back, as if nudging her without physically touching her, more a mental command than a physical push. 
As they ascended the stairs, Sasha, a brunette at the far end of the corridor, tugged on Jean and Connie’s arms. “See, she’s there!” she exclaimed. But when the three of them looked down the hall, no one was there—only a trail of muddy footprints. 
“...She was there,” Sasha insisted. 
Jean shot her a skeptical look. “Sasha, are you that hungry you’re seeing things... again?” 
Sasha frowned, clearly annoyed. “I saw her! I might be hungry, but I’m not imagining things.” 
“Well, she’s not there now, that’s for sure,” Connie said, stretching his arms behind his head. “Maybe a ghost?” 
“A suicidal one,” Jean added dryly. “Only higher-ups use the back door. And if Captain Levi sees that mud, he’d probably drag out a Ouija board just to kick that ghost’s ass for dirtying his floors.” 
Sasha and Connie started to walk away, but Jean paused, wrinkling his nose and sniffing the air with a puzzled expression. “...I do smell something strange, though.” 
Sasha and Connie shrugged, both of them betas, unable to pick up on any scent. But Mikasa, overhearing, joined them, her dark eyes narrowing. “Jasmine, berries, and coconut milk.” 
Jean shot her a smirk. “Well, I did switch to a new cologne…” 
But Mikasa ignored him, already walking ahead with a thoughtful expression, leaving Jean to trail off, his attempt at humor forgotten. 
As they moved through the winding corridors, she struggled to keep pace. Levi’s stride was steady and brisk, his attention fixed forward, but after a few glances back, he seemed to notice her struggle. With a subtle sigh, he slowed his pace focusing on her feet to match her pace.  
As he did so, he couldn’t help but notice the trail of mud they were leaving behind. Each footprint was a smear of damp earth and grime on the clean floor. His jaw tightened, and he clicked his tongue in irritation. ‘Focus on the important shit,’ he reminded himself. 
Reaching the door to his chambers, he patted his trousers absently, then checked the pockets of his uniform jacket. His brow creased in mild annoyance before he remembered: ‘The keys are in my coat.’ 
He moved closer to her, his face showing a rare hint of apology. “Sorry,” he murmured, reaching into the pockets of the coat she wore. She held still as he fished around, finally pulling out the key with a subtle nod. 
Before turning the key in the lock, he looked down at her shoes, now caked in mud. 
“Wait,” he muttered, holding a hand up. He gestured to her shoes with a short nod. “Shoes off,” he instructed, bending to remove his own boots first, leaving them by the doorway. She followed suit, slipping off her mud-caked shoes, which felt heavier with every step. 
She hesitated, glancing at the mud-covered shoes, but then leaned against the wall to remove her shoes. He did the same, tugging off his own boots and setting them neatly to the side. Once they were both ready, he unlocked the door and pushed it open, holding it for her to step inside. 
To be honest, she couldn’t say she was disappointed—her journey to his office had shown her this wasn’t the marriage she’d imagined. She’d heard the Scouts were… humble people. ‘A sweet way to call them low class,’ she thought wryly, fiddling with her loose ring, trying to keep it from slipping off her finger. Part of her almost wished the room would stay dark so she wouldn’t have to face reality, while another part hoped for a glimmer of candlelight to surprise her for the better. 
Levi shut the door behind him with a subtle sigh, closing his eyes briefly, as if gathering strength from somewhere unknown. ‘One task down,’ he reminded himself, as if safely getting her to the Scout headquarters unnoticed was his toughest mission yet. He shrugged off his uniform jacket and hung it on the coat rack by the door. 
She stood, frozen in place, as he walked past her, lighting a few candles he’d set up earlier. He busied himself lighting more, methodically checking off tasks from his mental to-do list. “Why don’t you take a shower? The water should be warm,” he suggested. 
‘And... here it is,’ she thought, her pupils darting around the room as though afraid to turn her head, scanning the place as the light started to fill it. She tried to hide her discomfort, not so much from a lack of hygiene as from a lack of warmth. Catching his eyes on her, she forced a thin smile. “Very... modest.” 
‘…Empty and rustic, but the last thing I want to find out is what he’s like when he’s mad.’ 
The room had only two doors: one, she guessed, led to a small bathroom, and the other to the bedroom. The main space was an office with a single shelf filled with books and not much else. ‘Doesn’t he have paintings or decorations?’ She found herself searching for anything that might make the space feel less austere and more homely, something to give her a glimpse of who he was. The office seemed to be the most furnished part of the quarters, with a set of sofas, a coffee table by the fireplace, and a desk. The large arched window was probably his only indulgence, a feature suggesting he spent most of his time here. 
“Shower?” Levi insisted, “Don’t take it personally, but I’d like to shower too.” 
That snapped her out of her trance. “Oh—sure,” in a small voice. “Um... where did you put my luggage?” 
Levi’s brow furrowed, and after a moment, he realized he hadn’t noticed her lack of belongings. “Was I supposed to have it?” he replied, answering her question with another—not a habit of his. 
“I sent it ahead, two days ago,” she explained, “They told me it would be best.” 
His eyes flicked to the window and the rain still pouring down outside. ‘Well… I think it’s pretty clear why that didn’t arrive yet.’ 
With a weary sigh, Levi leaned against his desk, one hand running over his damp hair. He looked worn out, both physically and emotionally. “This is a rural area,” he said, “and with this rain, it could take a few more days. A cart wouldn’t make it through the forest right now.” 
Levi stepped over to his bedroom, opened a few drawers, and, without moving from her spot, she couldn’t resist sneaking a look. She leaned forward, trying to get a glimpse over the door frame. 
She couldn’t see much, but curiosity stretched her mouth open as she craned her neck. A chest of drawers held neatly folded clothes, a couple of books stacked on top, and a wardrobe nearby had boxes on top that reached the ceiling (probably he used it as storage) with boots lined up beneath it. There was a standing mirror in one corner and she could only see the wood footboard of a small bed against the wall. 
“Here, you can—” Levi turned back toward her, catching her in the act of peeking. She straightened up quickly, feigning innocence. He raised an eyebrow at her obvious interest. “It’s not as if it’s off-limits. Walk in if you want.” 
‘Like a dog caught digging through the trash,’ he thought, mildly amused by her guilty expression. 
“Anyway, here.” He handed her some clothes. “The rest is in the bathroom.” 
She took them with a distracted nod, disappearing behind the bathroom door. 
“Ah...” He let out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding as he let himself collapse, boneless, into his desk chair. His hair was soaked, as was the rest of him, but he didn’t care. “A moment of silence.” 
Though she hadn’t said much, her silence was somehow louder than any words. Covering his eyes with his forearm, he felt drained—he’d been through expeditions to retake Wall Maria, yet this felt just as exhausting. But as always, Levi quickly pushed himself back up, pressing the bridge of his nose to calm the headache beginning to throb behind his eyes, and moved on. 
“I don’t have time to slack off,” he grunted to himself. He didn’t have much firewood left—it had been an unusually warm spring until today, and firewood was a luxury he was used to being frugal with, like nearly everything else in his life. 
'She should probably dry her hair before bed,' he thought, setting a kettle of water on in case she wanted tea. He considered making himself a cup but, as “going to bed” crossed his mind, the idea shifted to the liquor he had stashed in a cabinet. He poured himself a small glass, not intending to get drunk, but needing something that soothed him better than his usual caffeine. 
The fire began warming the room, and he placed his coat and jacket near it. He stepped outside briefly to bring in their shoes, cleaning them off and setting them to dry. The kettle’s whistle echoed in the quiet room, and he took it off the heat. That’s when a thought began to bother him. 
‘Should I check?’ He found himself near the bathroom door, ear pressed against it, straining to hear any sign of life. ‘What if she passed out in there?... or maybe she’s just constipated and can’t take a shit’ 
Knocking softly, he asked, “You okay in there?” 
“Yes, sorry.” 
Relieved but mildly exasperated, he shook his head. She’s using up all the water in the place, he thought, realizing she’d definitely not adapted to the military’s five-minute shower rule. 
Inside the bathroom, she was struggling to detangle her hair, but there was no conditioner, no hair mask, or anything remotely helpful. Her skin felt dry without any lotion, slightly raw from the harsh soap he had. Her hair smelled vaguely like cucumber, a tangled mess that only worsened under her frustrated attempts. 
“We are not going to cry, we are not going to cry,” she kept whispering to herself in front of the mirror. 
‘This was supposed to be my wedding night,’ 
For as long as she could remember, she had dreamed of her fiancé slowly, reverently helping her out of her wedding dress—a dress chosen just for him. She’d imagined him finally seeing her, her skin soft, her scent sweet enough to eat, a blend of lotion, perfume, everything. 
Instead, here she was, struggling with tangled hair and an uncooperative brush, her mascara still on because there was no makeup remover, wearing a baggy T-shirt and gray sweatpants, smelling like some generic soap, with her wedding dress stuffed in a dirty laundry basket. 
A million questions rushed through her mind. ‘What do I do?… Should I just lay there and let him do whatever he wants?’ ‘Is it going to hurt?’ ‘Would he force me to do something?’ 
“I could lock myself in here forever,” she reasoned, gripping the doorknob. ‘…Or could I?’ 
But eventually, she stepped out cautiously, slowly opening the door. He was sitting with his back to her, watching the fire from one of the couches. When he sensed her presence, he glanced over his shoulder. “Finally. For a moment, I thought you drowned in there.” 
Eyes downcast, she muttered, “Sorry.” 
Levi clicked his tongue. “It was a joke,” he grunted, feeling like nothing he said made the situation any less awkward. 
Levi noticed her standing there, looking unsure and uncomfortable, and with a small sigh, he gestured toward the couch. "Sit down," he said, his tone a bit softer than usual. "Dry up. It's cold in here." 
She hesitated but finally obeyed, slowly lowering herself onto the couch, her hands still clinging to her damp hair. Levi awkwardly stood for a moment, unsure of what to do next, before clearing his throat before speaking again. 
"Do you want something to eat? I can go see if there’s anything left from dinner," he asked awkwardly, already knowing she hadn’t eaten since the long journey. 
She didn’t reply immediately, only giving a soft hum as her response. Levi looked over his shoulder, brow furrowed.  
"That’s a no, then?" he muttered, then shifted his weight and walked to the desk. He leaned against it, sipping from his glass.  
"Fine," he muttered, “but I prefer when people actually answer me with words.” 
She didn’t respond. He glanced over at her, then added, “You sure? I can bring something. I don’t mind.” 
"No, thank you," she replied, her voice quiet but clear. 
Levi let out a small grunt of acknowledgment, not wanting to push her. He felt an odd tension in the air as he took another sip from his drink. “Alright then.” He paused before offering, "Tea, maybe?” 
"No, thank you." Her voice was quiet, distant. 
Levi exhaled a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his wet hair as he tried to focus on the fire.  
The tension lingered in the air, and after a moment, she spoke again, breaking the silence.  
"When do you think my things will arrive?" she asked, a note of uncertainty in her voice. 
Levi glanced at her, "Could take a while. The roads are bad, especially with this weather." He paused, his eyes meeting hers for a moment before continuing. "But if you need anything urgently, just tell me." 
She hesitated, her eyes darting away. Levi frowned slightly, sensing she was holding something back. He was starting to feel a little impatient. 
"Are you still on the rags?" he asked bluntly, unable to ignore the subtle discomfort in the way she fidgeted. "Need something for that?" 
Her eyes widened, a blush creeping across her face as she looked away, clearly embarrassed by the question. She seemed to shrink under his gaze, her shoulders stiffening.  
"I-I’m fine," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. 
Levi raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced by her answer. He didn’t know her well enough to be sure, but he was certain that something was off. He wasn’t about to let her go without offering help, though. 
"Look, if you need anything, just say it." He rubbed the back of his neck, his voice softening slightly, “I can be named humanity’s strongest and all that bullshit but I’m not a mind reader,” 
She didn’t meet his eyes, still hesitant, but Levi stood still, waiting for her to speak. ‘There’s no point dragging this out any longer,’ she decided. 
“No, uh—” she chose her words carefully, “I’m over it.” 
Levi still seemed confused, so she clarified, her face growing redder by the second. “I’m... ready for you… whenever you tell me.” 
Her words dropped into the room like the cannonballs once used to break titans’ necks. Levi’s first thought, admittedly, wasn’t his most noble: ‘So... she thinks people don’t fuck when women are bleeding or?’ 
Lost in his thoughts and the awkwardness of the moment, he didn’t notice how she bit her lip, glancing up at him shyly. “Just—please, don’t be too rough on me.” 
Captain Levi always had a comeback, a retort, a dry response. But now, he only pressed his fingers against his glass, eyes locked with hers, lips parted as if to speak but words caught in the back of his throat. Across his life, he’d seen people look at him in many ways—admiration, anger, pity, fear—but hers was different. Her eyes, reflective and tinged red, stared up at him with something close to terror. A terror filled with pure resignation, pleading him.  
His jaw tightened, and he felt a knot form in his throat. ‘I’m going to make those bastards pay for this,’ He broke eye contact, turning his head and squeezing his eyes shut.
It was painful, painful for him to think someone could look at him like that. To see him as someone who might treat her as an object, begging him that at least, if he was going to do that, not to be a brute about it. But the worst part, the thought that clenched his throat even more was: ‘Like my mother…’ 
The room felt silent except for the branches scratching against the window in the storm outside and the flickering firelight. He forced his voice to sound steady. “Just go to bed.” 
“Huh?” she asked, confused. “...Should I...wait for you there?” 
Levi shook his head. “I can’t do it. Just go to bed. You look like shit.” 
He wasn’t known for being the best communicator, and his words often got lost in translation.  She blinked, panic rising in her eyes. “I’m...not pretty enough? I tried to look my best—I didn’t mean to disappoint. Please, don’t call this off…” 
The thought of being sent back as a failure made her stomach turn. Her family, her younger sisters, her grandmother—they all depended on her. 
Levi raised his hand, stopping her mid-sentence. “Oi, oi, relax. I didn’t mean that—damn it! I meant you look tired.” 
“But—” she hesitated, moving a step toward him but keeping her distance. 
“Shit,” he muttered, his cheeks warming slightly. “It has nothing to do with that.” 
Her confusion was clear, so he forced himself to say it: “You’re...pretty, alright? That’s not the issue.” 
She still looked uncertain. “If you don’t…claim me…what will people say?” she asked. “People will look down on you as a soldier, as a man...as an alpha.” 
Levi chuckled, though he didn’t mean it. “Well, one good thing about who I am is that everyone’s too scared to say anything to my face,” he replied, almost gently. “I just can’t—not while you’re this scared.” 
The truth hung in the air, and she resumed fidgeting with her ring, frowning as she looked at the carpet and her voice grew quieter. “What if…I never want to?” 
Levi shrugged, too tired to pretend. “Then I guess we’ll wait until next spring when we’re both so damn drunk on hormones, you’ll be begging for it, and neither of us will remember it.” 
"Spring?" she echoed, her caution mixed with disbelief. "But that’s a long wait..." 
“Oh, well,” he said, with a dry humor, “we’ll just have to try not to kill each other in the meantime.” He gestured to the room. “Go to bed.” 
"Where will you sleep?" she asked, then added, almost disappointed, "Do you... have someone else?" 
Not that she was jealous, but she’d heard that “a good wife always knows.” 
This time, the question made Levi scoff, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. “Good one. No, I don’t. I don’t even use the bed—I sleep at my desk.” 
‘That can’t be healthy,’ she thought, grimacing. But, like a mouse just freed by a cat, she walked cautiously toward the bedroom, unsure if this escape was real. That can’t be healthy, she thought with a grimace of disapproval. But with hesitant steps, like a mouse released from a cat’s grip, she headed toward the room, still unsure how real this escape was. 
Levi finished his drink, then readied himself to take his own shower, thinking, ‘It’s going to be a long, tense wait until next spring.’ 
A wait filled with mounting anxiety. 
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multi-fandomdisaster · 2 days ago
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I made a Nibbly devotee OC :)
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Everyone, meet Mason Hunt!!!
Agender - xe/he - transmasc
17 years old -> senior at Hatchetfield High
5’7”
Tenor vocal range
Member of the Church of the Starry Children. Joined because of family, stuck around because of Nibbly.
Has a touch of the gift -> able to track & find anyone/anything assuming xe have a reference (be it a visual, or at times, a scent). Initially presented itself as xem being scarily good at hide & seek as a child & ballooned from there.
It was his gift that initially caught Nibbly’s attention. He ends up effectively becoming the “tracking dog/bloodhound” of Nibbly. He'll probably will end up being some kind of bounty hunter as an adult.
Absolutely TERRIFIED of the stories of the Hatchetmen killing and planting witches, especially with xem being Gifted xemself. When he was little, he'd hide under the blankets at night because he was fully convinced that a Hatchetman would jump out of his closet and plant him. Xe will never admit this to anyone.
CONSTANTLY craving food ALL OF THE TIME -> Nibbly has 100% made this worse & has turned xyr cravings towards something more...cannibalstic...at times-
Always keeps snacks on him
Surprisingly good at cooking
Helps out with the Honey Festival every year, making sure everything goes just how Nibbly wants. As a thank you, Nibbly sometimes leaves them some (incredibly) small part of the Honey Queen for xem to eat (Nibbly’s a cat leaving a dead mouse at your feet out of love fr fr). Xe used to find it absolutely disgusting, but over the years, xe’ve learned to appreciate that this is just how He shows gratitude. It's not very often He Who Feasts In The Dark shares, after all.
HE HAS EATEN PEOPLE BEFORE!!! AND ALSO KILLED PEOPLE!!! HE'S A BIT FUCKED UP ABOUT IT!!! HE'S A TRAUMATIZED LITTLE FELLA who hides his trauma with humor :)
And that's all I have on xem for now!!! :D
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cold--carnage · 23 days ago
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accidentally ranted to Seb's mum. probably shouldn't do that again going forward
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youraverageaemondsimp · 4 months ago
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Lust for love. // Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Reader.
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Summary: Aemond's life has always been a bitter and sour one, the only sweet thing in his life was you, his wife, perhaps too sweet for his liking, yet he neglected you in the past but a series of events lead you both together into love.
WARNINGS: mdni, smut, unprotected p in v, cunnilingus, interrupted orgasm, horny aemond, martial duties, clit stimulation, tiddy succin, body worship(?), gentle and kind aemond but he gets rough during sex, + not proofread, lmk if I missed any!
WC: 2.9k
A/N: divider credits @cafekitsune
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The cold breeze brushed against Aemond's face as he walked hastily towards your chamber, his boots clacking against the stone floor heavily while his heart banged in his ribcage.
He was feeling light headed, unable to form any thoughts and only the words of the maester rang inside his skull from earlier. ‘Your lady wife seems to be sick’ he had informed him and those mere words were enough to make Aemond spurt up from his chair in the meeting room and immediately rush towards you.
Aemond, frankly, did not know why he was feeling anxious at the information that you were sick, he did not even like you much and only merely married you for the connections and benefits your family provided.
You were just a mere duty to him, so when did he start caring about you?
He stood in front of your chamber door waiting anxiously as the guard gave him a bow before he opened the door, the mental hinges creaking as it slowly moved. He steps inside hurriedly and immediately lets out a sigh of relief when he sees you sitting up. You just stare at him confused.
“Husband? What are you doing here?” The tone of your voice indicated surprise, because Aemond had never visited your chambers even once since the beginning of your marriage and only called you to his chamber when he wanted to consummate.
“I had been informed by the maester that you were sick.” He replies nonchalantly, tone betraying the true feelings that were whirling on the inside. He wanted to get close to you, embrace you.
“I'm not with child.” You reluctantly tell him while looking down, suddenly feeling as though you are a disappointment. It felt humiliating to tell him that, especially when he came all the way to your chambers, he probably expected that you would be with a child.
Except that was not the case.
Aemond was confused on why you were bringing up that topic now, but then it clicked in his head and he cleared his throat, grabbing your attention before shaking his head, “Oh no, wife, I wasn't here because of that.. I was worried.” He admits and your eyes widen in shock.
Worried for you?
For as long as you can remember Aemond never seemed the type to show affection or concern for anyone, perhaps it was due to his past grievances, you had only heard about his eye through rumours, he never opened up to you about anything. You were a duty for him, someone he needs a legitimate heir from; because it is not as though he doesn’t have whores to seek pleasure from so what is the use of you? ; or at least that is what you had assumed and questioned.
But to Aemond, you were his sweet gentle wife, he was afraid of hurting you, in his vision, you were like a white swan, pure, elegant and graceful, he did not want to scare you lest you fly away from him. He did not know when he started perceiving you in this way, but as time went on, he had developed quite a soft spot for you.
“My apologies, Lord husband, I did not intend to worry you.” You apologised, he shook his head gently. “No need to apologise, how are you feeling now?” He questions and you simply blink at him, “I'm well, better than before.” You reply with a soft smile. Aemond's lip curved upwards slightly as he nodded, “Very well.” He says in a dismissive tone.
Awkward silence falls between you both as you look down, he clears his throat before speaking, “If you'll pardon me- I have to—”
“Would you like to take a walk with me?” The question leaves your mouth in a hurry before you could stop it, a desperate attempt at clinging onto this fleeting moment of affection. He seems slightly taken aback but he nods his head, “I'd love to.” He replies and you nod, stepping in his direction and standing next to him. “Shall we go?” You inquire, “Yes, wife.” He answers and you wait for him to take the first step, which he does; and soon you follow him out of the room.
You both stroll down the garden, admiring the scenery, the breeze was gentle today, and the weather seemed perfect, Aemond linked your arm in his, holding you close to him.
Your skin was soft to the touch and it drove him insane, he couldn't help but stare at the way your breasts pushed up against the material of your dress, he never really properly fucked you like you deserve.
Yet now, he just wants nothing to do but push you against the castle wall and fuck you relentlessly in the garden. Aemond realised that he never heard you moan, or show any type of reaction when he consummated with you.
He wondered how your soft voice would shriek in pleasure, calling out his name in pleasure, how you'd cling so tightly to him, he wished he could witness such a sight. He wished he hadn't gone to whores to receive pleasure while he left his wife dry. He missed out on a lot of things due to his decisions.
He mentally made a note to stop visiting brothels as it would taint your honour, he could simply seek the same pleasure from you. He became more bothered as his imagination went wild.
“... husband…? husband…!” He snaps out of his imagination, looking at your confused expression, “Y-Yes? Please excuse me, I was lost in thought.” He apologises and you give him a soft smile, “You were saying something?” He asks and you nod, “I was thinking about; well; if you excuse my rudeness, I realised we don't know much about each other.” You truthfully tell him.
Aemond furrows his brows in question, “What do you mean by that wife?”
“I want to get to know you, husband.” You stare at him in the eye and his eye widens slightly, and just then he recalls the memory of Aegon's words.
“That woman in the brothel knows more about you than your own wife, don't you find it amusing?” He was taunting Aemond, and at that time Aemond ignored those words, but now that you've openly admitted that you don't know him much made his heart shatter.
“Of course wife, what do you wanna know?” He decides to let his guard down, ready to tell you whatever you ask for. “Everything.” You reply, biting your lip anxiously, your hand travels up to his face, caressing his cheek before you trail your thumb down his scar. He knew what that implication meant and he smiles at you in a gentle manner, his own hand coming up to grab your wrist.
“Of course.”
Days pass by just like that, your marriage with Aemond had improved tremendously after your little effort to get to know him better, you felt bad for him when he began to reveal such vulnerable things, yet you never judged him.
He had shown you all of his vulnerability so openly, from the matter of his eye to everything else. You listened in silence, and he appreciated that.
As Aemond grew more comfortable, he began to show his emotional side, which included both his vulnerability and anger. He would utter treasonous things about his own brother.
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This night was one of those cold nights, the cold breeze flew into the martial chambers you were waiting in, the maids prepared you for the consummation as they do, you and Aemond consummate according to your moon cycle since your only duty is to provide him with a heir.
And besides, he probably did not want to lay with you in an intimate manner, or for pleasure. You felt insecure because of that.
You were scared that after all this progress, everything would return to the same way it was before because of this night, you doubted that it would happen but your thoughts plagued you.
You winced when you felt the maid tug at a hair strand accidentally, “Sorry my lady.” She apologises to you, “It is alright.” You respond softly, you stare at your own reflection in the mirror, eyes trailing down your features.
The door to the chamber opens, and Aemond strides in hurriedly, the maids quickly finish fixing you up and leave the room immediately, you get up from your seat and turn around to see Aemond undoing his clothes.
“Let me help you.” You offered, usually he would decline and continue to undress himself, and you expected that again, but his actions shocked you.
He immediately dropped his hands to the side and turned to look at you, waiting for you to walk over to him and help him. You blinked rapidly before rushing over to where he stood before you stood in front of him.
Your hands immediately began to work on removing his vest, your fingers delicately undid the loops, you were too focused on the job that you failed to notice Aemond's piercing gaze. He watched with intent as you worked on removing his clothes, his eye taking in your form. His breeches felt tight.
You pushed his coat off his shoulders and peeled away the vest, revealing his tunic beneath the layers, his garments fell to the ground with a shuffle, you stepped back, leaving him in his undergarments.
He grabbed the hem of his tunic before he pulled it off and then began to undo his breeches, untying the strings. You took that as a gesture to lay down on the bed, facing up.
This is what you did when you both consummated before, you would lay down, he would spread your legs, insert himself, finish and leave.
You expected that to be the case, but you were surprised when climbed on top of you, his face right in front of yours, platinum locks curtaining around you. He stared at your lips for a moment before he leaned in, capturing your lips with his.
You were surprised, and didn't know what to do, so you stayed still, but he bit your lip, indicating his disappointment at your freezing up, and so you immediately tried to mimic his movements.
Your lips danced against his, yet it couldn't match the fervent passion he moved with, it was desperate, intimate and most importantly, filled with love and lust.
All your prior insecurities melted away under his warm lips which were filled with desire and want, he wanted you, he seeked you out.
You both pulled away to catch your breaths, his lips were glossy from your saliva and slightly swollen. Your heart was pounding loudly in your chest.
Aemond moved your night off your shoulder before ripping it apart, revealing your breasts which you immediately covered out of instinct. But he gently grabbed your wrists and pinned your hands to the side of your head.
He leaned down, tracing kissing down your jawline, to your neck and to the soft flesh of your chest. His hot breath against your bud made you shiver in delight.
He hooked his tongue on your hardened nipple before engulfing it with his mouth, you let out a squeal of surprise at his actions but you didn't stop him.
He suckled on it gently, using his teeth to trap the bud in between before licking it with his tongue, he grunted in delight, his grip loosening one of your hands, freeing it from his hold.
He grabbed your unoccupied breast with his now free hand, giving it soft squeezes and playing with the bud, rolling and pinching it. You were new to this, not having any understanding of what was happening, after all, you've only read about it, never experienced such intimate acts yourself.
You rubbed your thighs together, trying to ease the ache that was forming in between them, you realised how sticky the area felt, and how it made it difficult for the friction of rubbing to work.
He notices this, lets go of your breast with a pop, he smirks before he rises off from you and settles in between your legs, this was the position you were more used to.
He spreads your legs wide apart, pulling up your nightgown, revealing all of you. He pressed his thumb against your clit which made your breath, you stared at him confused until you felt him rub small circles upon it.
Your body felt pangs of delightful stimulation, you couldn't help but enjoy the feeling, all of this was foreign to you. Aemond takes a deep breath before he closes in on your cunt, before licking a stripe upwards to your clit. You jolt from the sudden pleasure.
Aemond wrapped his lips around it, sucking on the bud slowly, you whined, grabbing his head for support as his mouth worked wonders down there. You tasted absolutely divine to Aemond, your essence trailing down his cheek as your body produced so much of it. You whimpered, thrashing around lightly as his warm tongue flickered with your bud.
Aemond's tongue swirled around your clit before he captured it with his mouth once again; “Oh! Yes!” You moaned, throwing your head back in pleasure when you felt him nibble on your bud. An unfamiliar feeling of warmth rose in your lower abdomen, you felt as if there was a fire inside you, waiting to combust any moment.
Just when you feet the flames beginning to erupt, Aemond stops his manoeuvres, putting out the fire, you furrowed your brows in confusion, wondering why he stopped.
But when you looked at Aemond, he seemed like an entirely different being at that moment, he had risen up back to his haunches again taking deep breaths almost as if he was trying to contain himself.
He was.
He had never felt such an overwhelming of desire in his body, every time he touched you; his mind scrambled into pieces, he wanted to fuck you so badly.
“Aemond?” You call out softly, confused, wondering if he was disappointed by your behaviour but it seems to snap him out of his daze and he stares at you. “I apologise; I'm finding it hard to control myself.” He admits his thoughts.
“Then don't.”
Aemond swore he heard you wrong.
“What?” He questions you.
“Don't try to Aemond, Don't hold yourself back, I want this, I want you.” You admit shyly.
The atmosphere fell silent for a second and you could feel the awkwardness from your own words beginning to sink in, that was until Aemond moved suddenly.
You shrieked as he pulled your hips onto his lap, wasting no time in inserting himself, you gasped at the sudden stretch, feeling yourself become full of him. You grabbed onto his shoulders for support.
He held your waist tightly, grabbing onto your hips for leverage as he began to move, thrusting himself in and out.
This was a movement you were familiar with, yet somehow it still feels new because of the strange sensation, it felt more intimate and passionate, his thrusts held meaning and it was as if every time he pushed inside you; he was reaffirming his love and desire for you.
He pushed you into the mattress, grabbing your legs and shoving them to your chest as he thrusted hard, his skin slapped against yours loudly, the room echoing the noises.
You threw your head back at the sensation, and you felt the fire in your stomach rekindle and you couldn't help but desperately chase it. “Ah, right there.” You moaned, feeling him hit a sweet spot inside you that fueled the fire in you, you gasped for air as every thrust of his knocked it out of your lungs. “You feel so good, you're driving me insane, wife.” Aemond grunts, his thrusts never once faltering.
Everything about this night together was very different from the previous ones, Aemond had never felt this good and neither have you, he regrets not trying to get to know you earlier. He felt like he was in heaven with the way you clenched around him.
He felt his high approaching, and he desperately ran after it thrusting deeper inside as he groaned and moaned.
Your body jolted up and down the bed and you felt the fire beginning to spread out slowly, you closed your eyes, when you felt the fire suddenly go out, you were confused but as Aemond thrusted one more time it erupted in your body like volcano, coursing through your veins and to your mind.
You moaned loudly, grabbing the sheets and arching your back as your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the intensity, you have never felt this way before.
Your vision went completely white before you could see once again, you felt Aemond finish inside you, his cocking twitching as he spurted his seed deep inside you.
“Seven hells.” He groans, riding his orgasm off, you watch as he clenches his eye shut taking deep breaths.
He looked so ethereal.
He immediately falls down next to you, catching his breath, he pulls you close and kisses you on the forehead, “You did so well for me.” He praises you, and you blush shyly.
Neither of you moved from the bed, having no intention to.
Typically Aemond would leave the room right after.
Yet he didn't.
He was stroking your shoulder gently as you dozed off, head resting on his shoulder.
He looks at your closed eyelids and thinks you're asleep.
“I love you.” He confesses, realising his true feelings.
Your lips quirk up into a smile before you open your eyes slightly.
“I love you too.”
You then doze off into slumber immediately, Aemond's heart picks up its pace, embarrassed and shy that you had heard him, but your response made him smile.
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realrogerhours · 1 year ago
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I can't sleep
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lecsainz · 10 months ago
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A headcanon of Percy Jackson x reader daughter of Zeus, where he has been in love since the first day he saw her, and he had also recently arrived at the camp, please
˒ ⌕ SHE IS LIKE THUNDER
parings: percy jackson x zeus!reader
an:I know I disappeared, forgive me 🤧, but picture me writing this at 3 AM, dying of sleepiness after watching the last episode of PJO, AND ANNIE USED THE NICKNAME 😭 THIS EPISODE IS STILL TOO MUCH FOR ME TO PROCESS!!!!
summary: the one where you're a daughter of zeus, exploring your relationship with percy.
( my last work || my last work for riodanverse || go to main masterlist )
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You and Percy crossed paths during one of your training sessions. Luke was giving Percy a tour of the camp, and when Percy laid eyes on you, he halted abruptly, as if struck by lightning. For some inexplicable reason, he felt an urgent need to know who you were, as if the gods themselves demanded it.
Percy's eyes widened as he observed you from across the training grounds. "Who's that?" he asked, pointing a finger in your direction. Luke suppressed a chuckle, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Her? Oh, that's Y/N, daughter of Zeus." Percy squinted, trying to decipher your actions, as you accidentally summoned a small lightning bolt that fizzled out near your feet. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Does that happen often?" Luke grinned. "Only when she's particularly excited, which, by the way, is most of the time. You should see her during thunderstorms!" Percy blinked, watching as you waved sheepishly, causing another faint spark to crackle in the air.
You and Percy found common ground in venting about the gods upon his arrival.
"Hey, little thunder, how's it going?" Percy grinned. "Don't call me that," you replied, trying to keep a straight face. "I'm good too, thanks for asking, Lightning Rod," Percy joked, emphasizing his newfound nickname for you.
Attempts at using your powers together proved futile, as water and electricity didn't exactly make for a harmonious combination.
According to Percy, Cabin 3 was way too big for just him, and assuming you felt the same way about Cabin 1, he started a tradition. At 12:00, he'd show up at your cabin, asking to share it, turning into a routine of hosting pajama parties in each other's cabins.
After you discovered that your half-sister, Thalia, had been turned into a pine tree to save her, Percy couldn't resist teasing you about it.
"Do you think your dad would turn you into, what, a fountain? Or maybe a cherry blossom tree would suit you?" Percy grinned, enjoying the opportunity to rib you. "Jackson, shut up," you retorted, rolling your eyes at his antics. Later, when Grover and Annabeth intervened, trying to keep you two from frying each other, Percy couldn't resist a parting shot. He had soaked you with water from a nearby forest stream during the mission, leaving you drenched and fueling your desire to electrocute him. "Next time you want to electrocute Percy, make sure I'm not around," Annabeth teased as they separated you, noticing your soaked state. Grover, being the peacekeeper, started singing the song of friendship, encouraging both of you to hug it out and apologize. Percy, however, observed that you were shivering from the cold as you walked. Realizing this, he handed you his jacket, concerned. "You'll catch a cold if you stay wet like this," he said, offering you warmth amidst the chilly aftermath of your water-based altercation.
Since neither you nor Percy admit to having feelings for each other, you find yourselves in constant teasing and banter.
During a mission, you two start a squabble because you want to lead everything, and he just wants to do his thing or isn't paying attention to what you're saying. Grover and Annabeth exchange glances, seeking a way to mediate.
It takes a long time before you muster the courage to admit you have feelings for the son of Poseidon. You decide to confess first because, knowing Percy, it would take ages if you waited for him.
"Percy, I need to talk in case we don't get out of here." "Spark Plug, we're getting out of here; trust me." "I like you, Seaweed Brain." He stands there in shock, mouth hanging open, unable to believe that you like him back.
After Percy managed to confess that he also liked you, you enjoyed teasing him about his stunned reaction. But deep down, you were terrified that he might have said he didn't like you back.
Percy becomes incredibly protective of you.
"Touch her, and you'll be dead."
You love stormy days and spend hours on the beach with Percy because he can control the water, ensuring you both stay dry.
"Isn't it beautiful?" "What, little storm?" You pause, gazing out at the tumultuous sea, the waves crashing against the shore. "It's like the ocean is in harmony with this storm. It's as if they understand each other, finding peace in the chaos." "Maybe," Percy finally responds, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Maybe storms and the sea have a way of finding peace in chaos because they understand that even in the wildest moments, there's a certain kind of order."
You appreciate the profound simplicity of his words, and in that moment, he wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder. For the first time in a long while, you feel at home
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xo-cod · 1 year ago
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141 + reader
hc's when you five share the barracks together/just in general <3 (ooc, rushed my bad lmao, can be read platonically/romantically, reader is v close to them!!) kinda long oops 😩 might do a part 2 idk
nsfw version 🩷
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there's a whole lot of testosterone and musk in the air when you're sharing living spaces with 4 men ‼️
all four men compete with each other to get your attention, even if it's unknowingly
whole lotta pouting when you're spending time with more man than the other, you're a great companion ;) and the army is lonely. they all need equal love and attention
speaking of, if you're smelling like one of them the other will immediately bundle you in his arms to put his scent on you instead and to cancel out the other (alpha behaviour 😵‍💫)
whole lotta flirting from each of them. they're all very intelligent soldiers, they know exactly what to say to get you going 😙
all of them adore the height difference with you. you get teased about it relentlessly (out of love obvi)
i don't think they're particularly messy men but ghost and gaz are the most cleanest, they like having their things in order and knowing where everything is
price is next because he's slumped with being captain so you'll see a lot of his paperwork around with coffee mugs from pulling all nighters
soap is more organised mess. it might look messy to you but he knows exactly where everything is
you, soap and gaz definitely have rap battles late at night. it starts of quiet but you'll usually hear price shouting at you three from his bedroom to stfu. ghost threatens to pull a grenade if you don't be quiet
assuming you're naturally a good cook, they'd all be so appreciative :") especially on bad days, your cooking reminds each of them of home (or lack of)
face masks! gaz would 100% be down to do them with you, soap would follow next because if gaz is doing it then he too???
ghost would roll his eyes, continuing polishing his guns with a rag "you ain't putting that muck on my face"
price would just look at you, shaking his head "got too much to do, sweetness"
but you're quite the convincer and all four men are on the floor of your bedroom, gossiping about the last mission with their preferred colour of face mask across their faces
assuming you're the only woman, they get very protective when you're hurt. soldiers get hurt from time to time but its different when it's you
"you alright, bonnie?" soap's gentle voice comes through your room as he hands you a warm mug of your fave drink
gaz had you wrapped in a big fluffy blanket, gently stroking your back
"who was it?" ghost's voice is firm, wanting to know who dared injured the youngest member of their team
"already got a handle on 'em" price follows, looking at the computer. whatever enemy dared to raise their hands on wished they'd be six feet under after all four men are done with them
you're the one each man needs when they're having a particularly bad day which are usually far in few between but sometimes it happens
gaz and soap are the types to seek you out, their faces settled in a troubled frown before they place their arms around you. no questions just yet, they just want to feel skin to skin for now. keeping them grounded before they can explain what happened. they're not looking for a fixer, just someone who'll listen
ghost and price are the type to isolate themselves for a while until it's night and then you'll find them gently knocking on your bedroom door and slipping inside, between your covers. their grip is strong, burying their faces deep into your neck whilst trying to wrap his arms as much as he can. these two won't talk much either, just looking to be held and stroked to calm down
ghost and soap are the type to show affection through lingering touches while gaz and price show affections through their words.
but speaking of hugs, each of them have their own special way they like to embrace
ghost thinks he's being slick but you realise just how touchstarved he really is, he gives hugs with his arms around your shoulders bringing you in to his chest. mostly because he's tall and broad but he likes how he can manhandle you from this position and smelling your scent <3
soap's the type to tackle you in a playful hug, maybe a spin to get a laugh out of you before he gently strokes your skin for a few seconds, a gentle kiss to your temple <3
price likes to hug from behind, resting his chin on your head while he looks at what you're doing. depending on you, his big arms are either wrapped on your waist or your shoulders <3
gaz gives side hugs because he likes linking his arm around your hips and he likes how you fit snugly into his body. and this way he can lean his head against yours and can bring you in closer with his other arm <3
all four can immediately smell you before you come in because they adore whatever perfume/spray you have
each of them would absolutely melt into pieces if you joined them/kept them company in what they were doing
and if they catch you in a towel after having a shower, best believe they're quickly walking back around to where they came from to help alleviate the growing... tent in their pants
lowkey kinda pervy 🫣 (never in a harmful way)
each of them have their strong points and would 100% train you in becoming stronger
even if you're a well established soldier, they all worry for your safety
price would teach you sniper techniques, ghost teaches you combat, gaz teaches you how to sharpen your aim and soap teaches you about explosives and how to construct/dismantle each of them
they take the training very seriously with you
a ton of cursing when their fave team loses lmaoo
if you're avid tea drinker, join the gaz/ghost/price club. if you're not, join the hater club with soap <3
ghost/gaz/soap will playfully fight with you, careful not to use their full strength and not to harm you. but it's so cute to them when you're struggling a little under them.
but when price scolds them in doing so, "i'm just helping in case there's an attack!"
if you're arguing against one of them, another will come to your defence. unless you're arguing all four then it's the silent treatment from you 🤭
all four of them melt when you call them by their real name instead of their callsign :")
ghost usually comes to you when his balaclava is broken and he'll keep you company as your fingers work their magic to the fabric, gently leaning against you as you speak to him
price will let you shape up his beard after you begging to do so and he grows to enjoy those tender moments
soap definitely calls for your help to shape up his mohawk, he trusts your hand to eye coordination above anyone elses
ghost will playfully ruffle your hair whenever you both pass each other
price gives you a gentle squeeze on the shoulder
gaz gives you a soft stroke on your arm or back whenever he's passing by
soap will gently tap his head against yours, not too hard to cause pain but just enough to know that he's there
but above all, the barracks you five share is definitely a safe space for each of them the second they come through the door <333
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killakalx · 6 months ago
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17+ content, blank blogs dnf
my attempt of forcing myself out of this block. poorly proofread, dick’s drabble is short compared to jason’s
dick grayson isn’t the jealous type, but he loves when you try to coax it out of him. the fact that you’re trying to get a reaction from him is almost touching, really. after spending the whole week wearing the skimpiest of clothes for all your outings, feeding into every ounce of attention you get and still seeking more, you assume him fucking you is his get back.
“aw,” he’d coo, hand gripping your face as he speaks to you. “‘s that what you were showing out for? just wanted me to fuck you rough?” deep thrusts punctuate his question and you nod— as best as you can with his fingertips digging into your cheeks, at least.
“I know you wanna,” you manage in an attempt to encourage him, rolling your hips and clenching around his shaft to elicit that sweet sound you only get from him a few times with each fuck. “c’mon, dickie- fuck me like you’re mad at me.”
“good try,” dick teases through teeth and tongue as he groans into your mouth, letting go of your jaw to pin your wrists into the bed. there’s a momentum that he picks up, but nothing even close to what you’d tried to provoke. “tell me when you let someone else touch this pretty pussy the way I do,” dick suggests in a hushed moan against your ear, “maybe then i’ll fuck you how you want me to.”
jason todd, however, falls for it every time. any little attention grab, any whorish call you make to draw men in— he sees it and it makes his eye twitch as soon as he picks up on it.
he’s not stupid. he knows every party trick you’ve got, and yet he still ends up balls deep inside you against any surface, stretching you out on his fat cock the way you intend him to. jason fucks you like he’s livid, because he is, and it leaves you choking on your words.
“y’think you’re so cute,” he chastises, shoving your face into the mattress until your whines are muffled in the sheets. your legs jolt with each hard pound he gives you, slow and calculated to hit that sweet spot only his cock could ever reach. “did you even see the way they were lookin’ at you?” his voice scratches at the side of your neck, low and accusatory as he slams his cock inside of you before you can mutter some sorry explanation.
jason folds your leg higher up and you keen, nails clawing at sheets as you gather hold of yourself. “you sound-“ a particularly hard thrust makes you gasp, “sound jealous, jay.” and like that, you’ve cut the red wire.
“really,” he grunts with a ticked off tone, “you think so?” his words neither confirm nor deny, but the way jason flips you with little to no time wasted speaks volumes. the way he easily repositions you, face down and damn near suffocating you in the sheets with your ass in the air; that’s what tells you your plan worked. and in little to time, jason has you absolutely broken. sheets soaked, pillows damp with tears and drool as you cry to him.
you whimper into the soft cotton, gripping onto the sheets hard enough to pull them off of their corners. he’s got you sounding pathetic, legs trembling and jolting every time he bruises your cervix, leaking around the base of his cock, and at this point your body’s fallen limp. pretty little pleas for jason and only jason, and he’d be more willing to admit how hot you look if he wasn’t pissed off. “begging for me,” jason huffs with an agitated quirk of his lip, “and all i’m giving you is what you fuckin’ wanted.” ❧
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just-rogi · 2 years ago
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I’ve always joked around because I’m very fair skinned and my mother is much darker than me, but I was looking at some older photos of me as a child and??? I’m significantly darker?? Almost the same skin tone as my mother with a noticeable difference between my palms and the rest of my skin, but I started looking much MUCH lighter right around the start of high school which is also when I started having blood related medical issues and was in and out of the hospital for chronic anemia and fainting, and I’m beginning to question if I’m actually light skinned at all or if I’m just pale due to a medical condition
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yuujispinkhair · 2 months ago
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I WANNA BE YOUR ENDGAME – Chapter 03
🏒❤️ A Hockey Romance feat. modern!Sukuna
Pairing: HockeyPlayer!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: College AU, Hockey AU, fluff + smut Playlist: I wanna be your Endgame Word Count: 3.6k Warnings: 18+, smut. Fuckbuddies to lovers. Mentions of masturbation in this chapter and Reader has some dirty fantasies about our favorite hockey player. Reader is a creative writing student. Sukuna is an ice hockey player + history student. This story will have approximately 10 chapters. Minors don't interact. Header by me. Divider @/benkeibear
MASTERLIST
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You are at the Tigers' next home game, too, watching and cheering from the stands, having fun just like the last time, but now you also understand the rules, thanks to your private lesson with Sukuna. You still grin anytime you look at the hockey rules written in his elegant handwriting and the little drawing with the tattooed stick figure.
The Tigers win, thanks to Sukuna scoring several goals. You congratulate him after the game, when he once again skates next to you as you walk past the plexiglass. And Sukuna smiles one of his rare dazzling smiles at you, which makes you feel giddy for the rest of the evening.
But Sukuna isn't just on your mind when you are at one of his hockey games. You catch yourself looking for pink hair anytime you walk over campus. And more often than not, when you eventually spot Sukuna, he is somehow already looking at you with his boyish grin and a raised eyebrow, as if he was looking for you, too.
You run into him in front of the dining hall several times, and he tells you to join him, leading you to his table again. You are surprised to realize that, apparently, it's a regular occurrence for Sukuna to sit on his own, or if someone is with him, it is only his brother or the team's kit manager, Uraume, who somehow seems to be on friendly terms with Sukuna, too.
It makes you wonder because you always assumed the star player would be surrounded by his teammates or admirers, basking in their attention.
It's one of those days when it's only Sukuna and you who have lunch together, when you blurt out,
"Why are you always sitting here alone or with your brother or Uraume? Why don't you sit with your teammates?"
Sukuna huffs at your question,
"Most of my teammates bore me to death or piss me off. They know better than to sit with me. In the beginning, they tried to tell me that the team always shares a table, but I told them to fuck off and not get on my dick. They got the message. They do as I say on the ice, and they also do what I say off the ice."
You don't doubt it. Anyone who seeks a fight with Sukuna must be crazy. This charming version of Sukuna you meet isn't the version he is for most people. He can be an asshole, and you don't doubt for a second that he doesn't hesitate to throw some punches off the ice too.
But the bad boy doesn't seem that bad when he has lunch with you. Sukuna is actually a charming lunch companion and full of surprises.
You put the novel you are currently reading on the table, and Sukuna jerks his chin toward the book, commenting on one of the characters in a way that tells you he knows what he is talking about. You look at him curiously,
"You read it, too?"
Sukuna leans back in his chair, one arm casually resting on the backrest of the chair next to him, his thighs spread under the table, his long legs brushing against yours, and a smug grin spreading over his handsome face.
"Yeah. Believe it or not, princess. I read a lot in my free time and for my classes, too."
And you suddenly realize that you have no idea what Sukuna's major is. You always assumed it was something obvious, like kinesiology or sports management. But his comment about reading makes you curious.
"What is your major, Sukuna?"
You didn't think it was possible, but Sukuna seems to look even more smug when he answers you,
"History."
Your hand that was bringing your spoon to your mouth stops mid-air, and you blink at Sukuna.
"History? Okay, wow, I didn't expect that."
Sukuna's grin is shit-eating by now, his eyes sparkling in amusement.
"Why not? You think I'm some dumb jock? I am offended, princess."
"No... I.. I don't know. I guess I pictured history majors differently. And isn't it kind of boring? All that old stuff?"
Sukuna raises an eyebrow at you,
"I analize past events to see what we can learn from them for modern times. It's about critical thinking and evaluating human actions. What is boring about that?"
"When you put it like that it doesn't sound so bad, I guess."
"Exactly. You are a creative writing major, right princess? You have all your fictional stories that you read or write yourself. They aren't boring to you, right? Now, I, on the other hand, have all those stories that actually happened. And many of them are first-class novel material. All that old stuff, as you call it, is very interesting. All the drama, the betrayal, the political intrigues."
You nod solemnly,
"Yeah, if I want to write a story set in the past I have to do research, too, to see how life worked at that time. How lucky that I have an expert to ask for help now!"
Sukuna grins at you,
"You're such a lucky girl indeed. But don't think I will just share my knowledge for free."
You give Sukuna a blank look,
"What? You gonna charge money for it?"
"Who said anything about money?"
He grins teasingly at you and you roll your eyes, throwing your hands up as you grin back at Sukuna,
"So, what kind of payment do you have in mind?"
"Maybe I am talking about this," Sukuna gestures to the table and your plate, "Keeping me company for lunch, coming to my games, being an enthusiastic enjoyer of my cigarette smoke. By the way, I need one after we are finished eating. You coming with me, princess? Consider it a payment in advance for gaining acess to all the amazing history knowledge in my mind."
Sukuna winks at you, and you can't help but laugh.
"Okay, I think that sounds fair."
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You're on your way to your dorm after class when you hear your name getting called by a very familiar, smooth, low voice. You turn around, only to almost drop the stack of books you are carrying in your arms.
Sukuna is jogging toward you, apparently going for a run as part of his daily workout, and there is definitely too much of his tattooed skin and buff muscles on display.
You stare at him, probably looking like a complete fool, as your eyes trail over Sukuna's tall, muscular figure. He's only wearing a black tank top and red shorts with the Tigers logo. It's far too little clothing to cover up how gorgeous he is.
You gulp hard. Sukuna looks so sexy, with his muscles all buff, the veins on his arms standing out from his workout, and a thin layer of glistening sweat coating his tattooed skin and muscles.
He asks you how your day was, and you manage to give him an answer that sounds halfway sane while your gaze travels up and down his body.
You don't know where to look. There is just so much of him, and it makes you feel so flustered! Sukuna makes you feel things you aren't ready to admit, but the fluttery feeling in your stomach grows more intense by the second.
Your heart jumps to your throat when you glimpse a pair of black bands peeking out from under Sukuna's shorts.
Oh my god. Does he have upper thigh tattoos?
You stare at those tempting black lines on Sukuna's muscular thighs a moment too long before you catch yourself, and your head quickly snaps up again, eyes wide, looking at Sukuna's face with an expression that does nothing to hide how affected you are by him and his stupid gorgeous body.
A cocky smirk spreads over Sukuna's tattooed face. The face of someone who knows exactly how sexy he is.
"Do you like my tattoos, princess?"
"Yeah, um... they look very cool," you manage to say, and before you can stop yourself, you add, "How many do you have in total?"
You silently curse yourself the moment the words have left your mouth because you know you just presented Sukuna with an open goal. And, of course, he doesn't even let a second go by before he grins at you with a devilish glint in his eyes, his voice dropping to a seductive timbre,
"I'll let you count them if you want."
You make a sound of complaint, but Sukuna's words send your pulse racing, and you are sure he knows it. You are saved from further embarrassment though by the beeping sound Sukuna's heart rate monitor makes to inform him something is off. He laughs softly and jerks his chin toward you,
"I have to keep going. See you at my game!"
And with that said, Sukuna runs past you, but not without reaching out to ruffle your hair, making you yell after him to stop ruining your hairstyle.
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It's a busy weekend for you, with several deadlines for assignments and a birthday party in your dorm that you help organize, so you decide not to go to the hockey game.
You don't even think about it until Monday morning when you get practically cornered by a scowling Sukuna.
You turn around after getting some books from your locker only to gasp because Sukuna is standing in front of you, tall and buff, effectively blocking your way.
He takes a step closer, his tall, broad body blocking out the light and the other people in the hallway, making it seem like it is only you and him. One of his large tattooed hands comes to rest on your locker, right next to your face, and Sukuna leans down so he is on eye-level with you, stopping only centimeters from your face.
"I didn't see you at my game."
You hug the books you just got out of your locker to your chest as you tilt your head to smile nervously up at Sukuna.
"Yeah, I was too busy and couldn't make it."
Sukuna curls his lips, and you feel the need to shrug apologetically and add a soft,
"Sorry."
Sukuna sighs and straightens up again, running his hand through his pink hair, slicking it back while fixing you with a sulky look out of his beautiful maroon eyes. It almost looks like he is pouting.
"You know that's a problem, right, princess? We lost the game."
You blink up at him in slight alarm before you see the mischievous sparkle in Sukuna's maroon eyes and see the corners of his lips twitch.
And so you play along and stare at him with comically big eyes, pressing a hand to your mouth that is opened in a fake shocked expression.
"Oh no! Forgive me, Your Majesty, King Sukuna The First! I wasn't aware that my absence would lead to your men's defeat on the icy battlefield."
Sukuna chuckles softly and leans closer again, both of his large hands placed on each side of your head now, his voice a low whisper, as if he is sharing a secret with you,
"I like it when you are there to watch me play. You are my personal lucky charm, princess. We haven't lost a single game since you started coming. But we lost this Saturday. Call me superstitious, but as a responsible player, I must demand your presence at all future home games."
You look at his beautiful face, so close to you that you can make out every little detail of the second pair of eyes tattooed into his skin. You feel your heart beat faster and a smile spreads over your face as you tilt your head, coming even closer to Sukuna,
"Well, I guess then it's my duty to come to every game. I promise I will take my job as your personal lucky charm seriously from now on."
Your voice has also dropped to a flirty whisper, and your pulse flutters wildly with Sukuna standing so close to you. You can feel the warmth radiating off his tall, muscular body. Can smell his sexy cologne again and a hint of cherry, maybe from his hair gel.
Your gaze meets Sukuna's maroon eyes. A lazy but contented smile spreads over his beautiful face. His voice is still barely a whisper, low and seductive, almost a purr,
"Good girl. That's what I wanted to hear."
You can feel his warm breath on your cheek, and you instinctively feel your lashes flutter and tilt your head back even more, your lips parting slightly as if preparing for a kiss.
For a moment, the two of you are locked in your own little universe, where it's only the star player and his lucky charm. Only Sukuna and you, so close to each other that you feel each other's body heat and your breaths brush over each other's lips.
So close.
You gaze deeply into each other's eyes, and Sukuna leans even closer. You think he is really going to kiss you. Your eyes close as your heart beats like crazy.
But a loud yell of "Sukuna! Coach is looking for you!" interrupts the moment, and both your and Sukuna's eyes fly wide open.
He pulls away, rolling his pretty eyes in annoyance as he yells over his broad shoulder at his teammate,
"And what the fuck is so important? I would have come to his office after class anyway! It's not my fucking fault that we lost!"
Sukuna's maroon eyes snap to yours again, and he huffs and grins, cupping your cheek with his large hand and brushing his thumb over your lower lip, adding in his typical velvety voice,
"Neither your fault, princess. Even though you should have really been in the arena. But you can double the good luck at the next game by cheering extra enthusiastically for me. Will you do that for me?"
You barely manage a nod and murmur a breathless "Okay," making your lips move against Sukuna's thumb, almost like a little kiss, before he pulls his hand away and grabs his backpack to sling it casually over his broad shoulder and wink at you one last time before he leaves to see his coach.
You let your head fall against the locker, hug your books tightly to your chest where your heart is beating like crazy, and stare dumbfounded after Sukuna's tall figure. Your knees feel weak, and there is heat pulsing between your thighs from all the sexual tension that was between you and Sukuna just seconds ago.
You let out a long breath and chuckle softly to yourself.
Sukuna's lucky charm, huh?
You like the sound of that.
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You find yourself in the hockey arena sooner than expected. But not for a hockey game. One of the girls from your classic literature class is on the figure skater team, and she asked if you could meet her after her training to do the assignment you have together.
You thought you would leave again and go to the coffee shop to work there, but your assignment partner scrunches her face apologetically,
"I'm so sorry, but I can't leave yet. I have to stay here and wait for my teammate to give me the keys to the team room, but she is still in the back talking to our coach. But we can do the assignment here. We can just get comfy on the stands and work there. Is that okay with you?"
You tell her it's okay and follow her, letting her lead you to the otherwise completely empty stands. Just when you sit down, you hear several voices coming from the direction of the ice, and when you turn your head to look what's going on, you see the hockey team entering the rink now for their training. And, of course, there he is.
Sukuna.
He looks gorgeous as always, smiling broadly about something Yuuji said to him as he skates casually over the ice, his helmet still off and under his arm, unaware that you are here to watch him. He isn't yet wearing his usual hockey jersey but a tight, black, long-sleeved compression shirt and his shoulder pads. It looks sinful on him, accentuating every muscle on his gorgeous body. Even from this distance, you can count his abs.
He looks beautiful. Especially with that genuine smile lighting up his face as he laughs with his brother.
You stare at him, following his every move, while trying to listen to your assignment partner's ideas. But she stops mid-sentence, and when you take it as a clue to look at her, she is grinning at you like the Cheshire Cat.
"So, Sukuna, huh?"
She jerks her chin toward the hockey team down on the ice, and you shake your head quickly, making a dismissive hand gesture.
"No, it's not like that."
She raises a skeptical eyebrow but leaves it at that. For a few minutes, the two of you work on the assignment while you steal the occasional glance at the rink.
The problem with the hockey arena is that it is cold as the ninth circle of hell. You hug yourself and rub your arms, shuddering in the chilly air of the arena. You didn't think you would work on the assignment here, or you would have brought a jacket.
It's right then that you suddenly hear your name called in that familiar, sexy, low voice.
You turn your head, unable to stop the big grin from spreading over your face, as you see Sukuna leaning against the boards beneath your seats, touching the plexiglass that separates the rink from the stands, and looking up at you.
"Are you here to bring me luck during training, too? You really take your job seriously, princess. I approve of that eagerness."
You laugh, playing along and making a salute gesture,
"Of course. I am always on duty, sir!"
Your little salute gets messed up by how violently you tremble from the cold, though. Sukuna raises an eyebrow, and his eyes travel over your body, over the thin t-shirt you are wearing.
"You're not dressed for the job, though. What are you doing, freezing your pretty ass off?"
You laugh,
"I didn't know I would spend an hour in here."
Sukuna huffs, brushing a stray strand of pink hair out of his forehead,
"Wait a sec."
He pushes himself off the boards and casually skates to the other side of the ice. You see him grab something from the bench where his stuff is. And then he glides back over the ice toward you with his sexy smirk on his tattooed face and his white team hoodie in his hand.
The sight makes your stomach flutter. You grin from ear to ear as Sukuna skates over to you, stopping at the boards and grinning up at you.
"Come down here and put that on, princess! I don't want my good luck charm to get a cold!"
You chuckle as you hurry down the stairs to the boards. Sukuna throws his hoodie over the plexiglass, and you catch it and quickly slip into it.
A blissful sigh leaves your lips. Sukuna's hoodie is so soft and warm, and it smells just like him, making your stomach tingle when you smell his fresh, sexy, boyish scent mixed with cigarette smoke and cherries.
You smile gratefully at the star player, who can actually be pretty nice contrary to his bad boy reputaion.
"Thank you, Sukuna."
Sukuna stands there, resting his chin on the back of his hand on his hockey stick as his beautiful maroon eyes slowly wander over you. There is something in his eyes that you haven't seen in his gaze before, but you can't quite name it.
All you know is that Sukuna's gaze lingers a lot longer than necessary on your body, which is now clad in his hoodie. He looks happy somehow, pleased, but there is also something darker in his eyes, almost like some primal hunger.
It makes you lick your lips nervously, but then Sukuna seems to shake himself out of it, and he smirks at you again, just as cocky as always, flirty and sweet-talking like a champ,
"You're welcome, princess. Anything for my lucky charm."
He skates back to where his teammates are doing practice shots, joining them immediately in full hockey star mode.
You feel oddly light-headed from the encounter with Sukuna and the feeling of his warm, comfy hoodie on your body, and his sexy scent in your nose as you walk back to your classmate.
She looks at you with an amused expression on her face and a "see, I told you so" attitude written all over her face.
"Oh yeah, it's clearly not like that at all, huh?"
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You leave the arena huddled comfortably into Sukuna's hoodie, your hands shoved deep into the soft front pocket, smiling at how the hoodie looks more like a dress on you because of the height difference between you and Sukuna. It's making your tummy flutter a bit to imagine him wearing it before he gave it to you. Almost like you get an indirect feel of his tall, strong body. You bite your lip and try to chase that thought away. This is dangerous territory.
But the thing is, even when you are back in your dorm, you can't bring yourself to take off Sukuna's hoodie.
It's far too comfy and warm, and so you just stay in it the rest of the evening while preparing dinner and working on your assignment. It also smells so good. You catch yourself bringing the soft fabric up to your nose several times to inhale the fresh and seductive scent that is Itadori Sukuna. Fresh cologne, cigarette smoke, and cherries.
You tell yourself you will take the hoodie off before bed. It will be too warm to sleep in it anyway. Yes, definitely, you will change into one of your usual T-shirts!
Just five more minutes.
In the end, you stay in Sukuna's hoodie. But it is a bad idea, as you soon realize when you lie in your bed, and your mind gets flooded with images of Sukuna's sexy grin and his gorgeous tattooed body. You feel a bit guilty when your hand slips into your panties while you are still wearing the hoodie that smells like Sukuna. You don't want to be into him like that!
But you can't stop yourself, even though it feels kind of wrong to give in to the sudden urge to push your panties down so you can feel Sukuna's hoodie brush over your wet pussy, soaking the soft fabric with your arousal as a needy moan falls from your lips.
You imagine Sukuna lying in his bed with a hand down his pants, too, while he thinks of you in his hoodie and nothing else. And that thought leads to an all too sexy fantasy of you riding Sukuna on his bed while you're wearing his hoodie, and his large hands slip under it and wrap around your waist. And he's smirking at you and calling you princess and his lucky charm while you bounce on his lap until you cum all over his gorgeous cock.
You curse yourself a little for whispering his name when you cum so hard that your vision goes black for a moment.
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I would SQUEAL internally if Sukuna gave me his hoodie ❤️❤️ And being his personal lucky charm sounds like the best job ever to me! AAAHH he just drives me insane!
Thank you so much for all the love for this AU!! I hope you enjoyed Chapter 3, too. Comments and reblogs would be very sweet ❤️
In Chapter 4, Reader and Sukuna end up in the locker room together. Let's see what that leads to ;)
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sanemisstalker · 1 year ago
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N/SFW. Minors DNI
CW: GN reader / Men's Mental Health IG ???
KNY characters that I think are more prone to cumming in their pants / NSFW
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Giyu
-He's inexperienced.
-I admire the almost fandom consensus of him being either resident, sexy, black haired, quiet anime boy, and/or 'nobody likes this friendless loser, he definitely has a tumblr'
-Any attention, platonic or not, from someone he's attracted to is enough to make Giyu get an apparent boner. He's prone to them when the people he admires say genuinely nice things to him.
-He doesn't get to hear nice things a lot, nor does he take compliments easily, so when he believes them, his body can't help but believe them too.
-He'd rather it not be that way, but due to his floundering mental health, and general isolation, Giyu isn't jerking off very often, nor is he able to get it up when he wants to, so he just goes... months without thinking about it sometimes.
-Could definitely cum from kissing too hard. Not just kissing, but particularly the rough treatment.
-Giyu must be incredibly touch starved, I imagine. I can't fiction the last time he's hugged someone. That scene where he's holding Shinobu, perhaps?
-So when he's getting so much attention, especially so much positive, romantic attention, even if it's a little rough, I'm sure his dick would be at full mast.
-he doesn't think he's predisposed to masochism or anything. He'd hope he wasn't, but it feels better when he's kissing, and maybe his hair is being pulled on, just a little.
-he'd be very embarassed. He wouldn't cry or anything, but I think he'd get up and leave the room. He knows you knew what happened, he didn't moan, but he flinched because the build up was so immediate, and he just couldn't stop.
-How pathetic. He can't show his face infront of you ever again. All he does is ruin good things. You're definitely disgusted by him.
-Even if he didn't realize how pretty his face looked during his orgasm.
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Gyutaro
-Everyday I fight the gyutaro incel allegations, and everyday I fail.
-Gyutaro is socially inept, to put it blatantly. He spends an incredible amount of time locked away in his sister, and rarely chooses to come out unless eating for the two, or-
-if he needs to jerk off. A rarity, nowadays. Looking the way he looks can do a real number on one's ability to self-pleasure. He also isn't able to seek out assistance from any brothels- He still looks the way he looks. He's no Muzan- blessed with the ability to change his appearance at will.
-So when you're on top of Gyutaro, and he feels the curve of your ass in his palm, and your sex is positioned right on top of his, just barely grazing his clothed cock, as you try and teach him how to kiss (he's doing his best, but he knows he's not good-)
-He cums, and he cums hard. He grips down on your hips, and goes wide eyed, unable to stop the moan that rips its way from his throat... and then quickly moves you off of him.
-He isn't even finished when he moves you, he's shakey armed, and he nearly drops you.
-he's mortified. After all this time, he finally gets someone willing to touch him, and he blows it. He's borderline inconsolable- switching between begging you not to look at him and begging you not to hate him-
-but the noise he made was just so... pathetic.
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Haganezuka
-Men dedicated to their craft don't have time to cum? Silly of you to assume he's ever even seen another person naked. That would imply he looked away from a sword for long enough to register it.
-On a completely serious note (as serious as I can be writing this), It'd be quite awkward interacting with Haganezuka sexually. His mind has been so consumed by perfection that, even if he wasn't dedicated to the blade, he's almost prevented himself from ever being able to cum in a social setting.
-He's developed a phobia of new situations he can't control. Especially sexual ones. Swords are easy and gratifying. Why would he ever need to cum when he can just make a sword and have it be respected and revered. Wouldn't that be nice-
-So when you started rubbing him over his pants, he was, admittedly, panicking. It's not like he went nearly 4 decades without using his dick... He'd just... gone 2 and a half decades without using his dick. Nowhere near the same.
-You'd barely even touched it, barely even pressed your lips to his neck, and Haganezuka was panting.
-The fear coursing through his veins, and the attention his forgotten cock was receiving- He grew more unsightly by the second...
-and then you pressed a particularly soft kiss to the corner of his lips and he was done for. That was his first kiss-
-Though shocked, you'd pump Haganezuka through his orgasm. It'd be enough to go through his pants, and spill over your hand.
-He'd grip your robes, and will you closer to him. His heels would slam into the floorboard, and he'd try to bury his face in your neck, attempting to muffle the groan he'd loose, only to fail tremendously.
-He'd be huffy after. Mad at himself and disguising it as being mad at you.
-'Well, maybe you shouldn't touch me anymore, if you found it so gross! Did you consider that? Just not touching me- ever?'
-but you saw how sad he looked when you said you'd do whatever he wanted. What a simple man.
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lilacxquartz · 2 months ago
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RIVALS;
satoru gojo x f!reader
summary: you always thought that satoru gojo hated having you as a rival, but after getting to know him, it turned out to be something so much worse.
tags/warnings: abduction/kidnapping, betrayal, rough sex, non-con, yandere, one shot, drugging, kissing — w.c: 1.6k
ao3 • masterlist
In some ways, it was exhilarating.
Being the second best to the strongest, that was.
From the very first day that you enrolled in Jujutsu High, you weren’t quite sure where life would lead you exactly but it certainly wasn’t to where you were now.
Everyday, after all, was an endless pursuit of an achieving both academic and combative excellence. Everyday, you pushed your body and mind above and beyond, seeking out the strength you didn’t know you had. You always assumed that by the end of it all, you would end up as maybe a grade two or even one with your efforts, but to your surprise, you got the recommendation to graduate as a special grade at just eighteen.
Just like him.
However, with every step forward, a creeping exhaustion settled in, dragging you down a path you couldn’t quite handle the journey of. Through the endless training that forced you to keep up with your prestige and the missions that the higher ups threw at you—it didn’t take too long to wear you out—leaving you weary, tired and almost even jaded as a result. Your mental state was one slight push away from the verge of a total collapse.
It was infuriating in some ways because you couldn’t help but compare. You were only human, after all. Sorcerer or not. Being a step below Satoru Gojo soon felt insulting and even though you didn’t consider him to be a rival, it still felt like… a drag, almost. His power was ingrained within him, whereas for you, it was a never ending grind.
It wasn’t quite envy, but you wished it could be easier. If even for a single day.
However, when your graduated classmate seemed to acknowledge your efforts, it technically felt like he appreciated you after all. A validation beyond anything you could dream of; his attention feeling almost intoxicating as he delivered what felt like genuine praise upon your believing ears.
But then it all started to go wrong and you weren’t sure why.
How were you supposed to know however that beneath his easy smile and casually friendly demeanour laid something else beyond what he presented you with? That through your rise to the top, the expectations that followed, he saw you as nothing more than a threat? Another cog to add to the failing machine, a system that he wanted to take down as his own. True, he played the part of a supportive friend, feeding you words to help you feel secure in your success, but there was something darker that lurked beneath his cheery surface.
How were you supposed to know that after he invited you over for coffee, that you’d soon fall asleep from the spiked liquid, only later to wake up with your hands and wrists completely bound?
It was a sickening realisation as you soon understood that behind those friendly words that you thought were spoken in confidence to you as his friend were nothing more than fleeting sweet nothings that he lied into your ears, leading you believe in a version of him that didn’t exist. He had everyone fooled, but especially you, into thinking that he could coexist with his rival.
Tucking you away into a small closet, at least for now, the room felt awfully confining as it housed you. You knew you were in deep trouble, especially as his words now came out cold, unforgiving and almost mocking.
“Don’t cry,” he spoke, “I’ll keep you company. I’ll make you feel like the spotlight always stays on you, but unfortunately, nobody else will ever see or hear from you again.”
Quickly stifling your protesting lip that quivered in response, pausing your voice that urged to fight past the horrific situation you had found yourself within, he didn’t let you. Instead, he spoke on your behalf.
“Don’t cry,” he repeated with more emphasis this time, “I’m saving you. Being the strongest shouldn’t be your responsibility to bear alone, that’s why I’m lifting the burden for you.”
And with that he closed the door, watching your trust fade away as the world around you darkened.
But it was for a good cause.
To keep you safe.
Satoru however grew needier and needier the more often he visited you, keeping you all locked up in his room, somehow perfectly bound and unable to leave. It was only a matter of time before he grew curious about you in that sort of way, seeing you as both something to protect as well as demanding stress release from you.
It was so exhausting keeping you as his big secret, after all. You had no idea what he had to go through to keep this all under wraps.
So when he sprawled you out over the bed, it wasn’t as though you didn’t anticipate it after all that he had otherwise done to you, but it still hurt all the same.
You grunted as it happened, taking a hit face down into the mattress; your whole body sinking over the soon crumpled bedding. You tried to fight him off—yet even as strong as you were—it wasn’t enough, even for you.
He pulled you up, raising your hips to meet with his own building excitement before peeling your jeans down and sliding your underwear away too. All he had to was shuffle out of his own clothes, dropping the fabric down to his knees. You couldn’t see a thing as he forced you to face away, but you could feel as his cock pressed against your sex and forcefully slid inside.
It didn’t matter how much you writhed around and begged him to stop, nor how much your legs thrashed or how your hands tried to pull themselves away from his pursuit; he wouldn’t pull away—instead however—he would push forward, again and again and again.
He grabbed at your hips and dug crescents into your skin with his fingernails for stability, wrapping his palms around you as he slammed himself back and forth your soon bruised ass. It felt insulting as he shushed you through your involuntarily whimpers, because what else were you supposed to do… especially in a situation like this?
“Please,” you gasped out.
Yet he never kept giving you the response you wanted, his voice deceptively warm as he spoke behind you, “You have no idea how good you feel.”
He would continue to cut you off with every protest with a praise, yet nothing about how he complimented you felt good at all.
“Such a good girl, taking me so well.”
“You’re so incredible, I knew it was a good thing I kept you around.”
“So good, so good—“
All it would do was make you feel sicker and sicker, somewhat nauseating you as he continued to pound inside your abused cunt. You couldn’t help but feel nauseated, maybe even dizzied from what was happening because you simply couldn’t understand why. If this was the consequence from your academic effort, then you would have never tried to reach for the stars, if it was as bleak as this.
Satoru continued to spear his length into you; his size hurting you as it stretched against your resisting walls. His cock filled you out completely, feeling almost torturous with how he would relieve you from the pressure as he pulled out, only to impale you again, forcing tears to spill out of your eyes when you felt it all happen again.
Each and every single thrust felt rougher than the last, as if he was beginning to lose himself in the sensation. He would bury his hips as far as he could into the cushioning of your ass, chasing the addiction of the release he wanted so goddamn much.
Soon enough however, he flipped you around to your back, taking in the sight of your dishevelled appearance; your messy hair, your tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes and both the best and the worst of all, the overall look or hurt and betrayal.
Satoru didn’t give you a warning as he started it all up again, positioning himself in between your legs while maintaining eye contact with you. Those chilling blue eyes were no longer serene, but painful as they bored into yours and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away.
He moved into you again, wrapping your now tired legs around his shoulders, enjoying the sensation of your surrendered weak state. He lifted you ever so slightly yet again, pushing his cock into your core and melting into you once again.
Satoru was relentless as he pounded into you, bucking his hips feverishly as he chased his almost strained release. The entire time, he wouldn’t break eye contact with you, forcing you to watch as he mercilessly took you again and again. Your insides clenched around him, longing for him to stop but he wasn’t quite ready just yet.
He picked up the pace regardless, shuddering out shaky breaths as he pushed himself to his limit; slowing down with each remaining thrust, yet rutting at a more impactful rhythm. He was close too, he was so fucking close. It was an addictive sight to him after all, to see your body convulse and quiver from him overwhelming you, to watch as you longed for his release too (even if it was for a completely different reason).
Leaning down for both comfort and the rising sensation, he pumped his length forward one last time before going limp. His hips grinded themselves a little more however, attempting to milk himself as much as possible into your shuddering body.
Yet, it didn’t seem to be entirely over as he pulled away from you ever so slightly.
Perhaps you were naive for thinking that this would be the end after he got what he wanted.
As his lips brushed against your ear, you couldn’t help but feel almost frozen from the delusions he whispered forth.
“I’ll promise that I’ll never leave you now,” he assured you, meaning every last word, because after all, there was no greater love than something so sickeningly obsessive as something unrequited.
At least to him.
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kingkatsuki · 10 months ago
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— kiss chase
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Do you remember the game kiss chase when you were a kid?
Just more silly little Bakugou thoughts SIGH.
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“I wish our first kiss was that romantic.” You smile at him from the other side of the couch as you rest your legs across his lap. His fingers absentmindedly stroking patterns against your skin as he sits with his chin buried inside his hoodie as he watches the movie you’ve put on, rolling his eyes at your words.
“Ain’t my fault it wasn’t romantic— you were cryin’ before it.”
“No I wasn’t!” You laughed as Bakugou rubbed his head over his hoodie, tousling his hair beneath it, “You wiped off our first kiss, I’ll never forget.”
“The fuck I did?” Completely abandoning the film with his attention now completely on you, “It was at that ice rink, after you were cryin’ cause I didn’t catch your ass when you fell.”
“Firstly, I didn’t cry because of that, I was crying because it hurt,” You reach over to smack his arm, no malice in your actions as your lips curl up into a smile, “And that was not our first kiss.”
“So when was it?” He frowns, furrowing his brows.
“What? You don’t even remember?” You pout, furrowing your brows as Bakugou has to stop himself from leaning over and kissing you right now.
“Remember when we played kiss chase in school?”
“When you played kiss chase, I didn’t play that dumb shit.”
“I’m pretty sure I remember you chasing me.” You grinned, replaying the memory in your mind.
You both went to the same school, practically growing up together as you’ve been joined at the hip ever since. But you never used to spend much time together out on the playground, preferring to do your own things as you stuck with your young girl friends. Playing those silly childhood games like hide and seek, hopscotch and kiss chase.
Remembering when it was your turn to start, and your eyes roamed the playground, trying to decide what boy to chase after as you stood in the middle.
And all the other kids are taunting you, because there’s no way in hell any of the girls would even attempt to run up to Bakugou, nevermind try to kiss him. And you’re just standing there watching him from across the playground, watching as he moves his legs apart in a mock fighting stance as he holds his palms out in front of him. Quirk usage was banned throughout the school, so he was pretending to shoot his explosions out. Making the ‘boom’ noises himself as he held his hands in the air.
And the girls around you are squealing when you start to jog towards Bakugou, who’s none the wiser. The poor kid happily playing by himself as the other boys in the playground stop to watch you as you make your way over to the blond boy. He doesn’t even notice you until you’re right beside him, reaching out to grab him by the shoulders as you close your eyes and plant a wet smack against his lips.
A universal ‘eww’ rings out around the playground, which you assume is from your choice being Bakugou, and not the act of kissing since most of the girls were more than happy to kiss Midoriya.
And Bakugou is just stood there, crimson eyes blinking in surprise as he lifts his arm up to aggressively wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, scrunching his nose in disgust.
“What was that for?!” He groans, as though you’d just punched him in the face.
“Tag, you’re it.” You grin, and before he has a chance to respond you’re off running back across the playground.
And instead of trying to find another girl to kiss in order to continue the chain, he keeps his pursuit on you.
“Of course I was gonna chase you, I didn’t wanna kiss those other girls—”
“Oh, so you wanted to kiss me?” You smile across the couch at him as he squeezes your ankle playfully.
“I always wanna kiss you,” He smirks, tightening his grip around your ankle as he tugs hard. Pulling your body across the couch towards him as you squeal in surprise, adjusting you until your thighs were either side of his hips. His hips hovering over yours as he cupped his hands on the curve of your ass.
“I can’t believe you didn’t remember our first kiss.” You pout, leaning back playfully as Bakugou tries to press his lips to yours, making him groan in irritation.
“Even after all these fuckin’ years you’re still makin’ me chase you, sweetheart.”
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jaythes1mp · 4 months ago
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I was wondering how you think readers life would be different if they were a puppy hybrid instead of a cat? I had a dream about this last night after I reread your works
You had a dream abt it after my fic?🫢🥹💚
The dynamics between the reader and the family would noticeably change if the reader took on more canine traits rather than feline. The bat’s would likely respond differently, as canine behaviors and characteristics can vary significantly from those associated with cats. The reader's dog-like nature could shape how the family interacts with and cares for them, adding a different layer to their relationships and potentially influencing the family's behaviour. They’d expect more from you.
The nature of a dog is typically more sociable and dependent, leading to different expectations and interactions.
So if you don't immediately respond to their affections by showing signs of eagerness, like a happy, loving puppy would, the family would interpret your behaviour as abnormal. They might worry that something is wrong with you, as canine behaviour typically involves being sociable and receptive to affection.
They'd expect you to enjoy being petted, as dogs often crave human touch and attention.
You’d promptly be sent out on your way to a vet. Because, something must be the matter with you. It could never be their faults. They'd assume that the issue lies within you rather than considering the possibility that they might be the source of the problem.
In contrast to their care for Kitten Reader, they'd be more inclined to allow Puppy Reader to spend time in human form. This is because it's easier for them to monitor and assess your mental state when you're in human form. As they find it less challenging to gauge your emotions, well-being, and mental state when you're human if you’re completely unreceptive as a pup.
For a kitten it’s natural to be less receptive to affection, batting at their hands or hissing when they get too close. But it’s completely abnormal for a pup. You’re supposed to seek out their touch, not flinch from it.
So they need to nip your behaviour in the bud.
Damian, being the meticulous and dedicated individual that he is, will take it upon himself to arrange online training sessions with the most skilled and highly regarded trainers available. He believes that you ought to behave in a manner that befits your canine nature and will take great care in selecting trainers who can help you learn and adapt accordingly.
He will diligently oversee your progress, taking notes on your behavior and ensuring that you receive the necessary guidance.
Dick, being the “loving and dedicated older brother” that he likes to call himself, will dive into a thorough online research session to discover the best ways to force have you to be affectionate with him. His search queries including phrases like "How to get your dog to like you," "How to create a bond with your new puppy," and "How to make a puppy love you instantly." He’ll immerse himself in articles, videos, and guides that provide tips and techniques to form a deep and affectionate connection with you.
This ends up resulting with every time you manage to do literally anything besides growling at him, whether it be making eye contact, sitting, or even just existing in his presence, you’re immediately rewarded with a dog biscuit as an incentive.
Jason, with his rugged exterior and rough edges, is the type to carry you, no matter how large your fluffy canine physique, in a practical doggy bag. While he may appear tough on the outside, he has a deep attachment to you in your puppy form, as in some underlying level he sees himself in you.
Especially if you have any visible scars that can’t be concealed in your canine form, he might find an even stronger affinity towards you, mirroring his own experiences in a strange yet comforting way.
Tim, being the methodical and detail-oriented individual, he is, would design an unnecessarily intricate and ultra-luxurious dog pen for you indoors. This pen would be thoughtfully equipped with every amenity and comfort appropriate for your puppy needs. However, he's also pragmatic and meticulous, and would ensure that appropriate measures were in place to lock you up if you needed disciplining for misbehavior, demonstrating his keen attention to both your comfort and safety.
Tim's favorite creation thus far for you is the collar fused to your skin in a way that causes no discomfort when you transform from one form to another. It relays live data to the Bat-computer and a specially designed app installed on each family member's phone. The collar monitors everything you consume, tracks your whereabouts, keeps tabs on your vitals, and records your voice continuously for 24 hours. Moreover, it also picks up on any intense emotions you're experiencing, providing the family with a comprehensive understanding of your canine state of mind at all times.
The collar is discreetly designed to blend in, looking just like any ordinary dog collar one would purchase at a pet store, except perhaps a bit more posh and expensive. However, the back of the collar is adorned with a beautiful tag bearing all the family members’ contact details.
Other features are installed to keep you in line. A built-in shocker to administer a warning shock in case of any misbehaving behavior. After all, a little shock can go a long way in shaping a puppy's behavior. The collar is also equipped with a feature that bypasses the need for conscious thought to shift between your human and puppy form. It sends signals directly to your brain, creating a sort of mental “shortcut” to seamlessly transform between states. It takes much of the guesswork out of transforming, streamlining the process and making it effortless, forcing you to shift and taking away your ability to choose with a click of a button.
Bruce, being the overprotective father figure that he wishes to be, would be disheartened with the limitations placed on him. He’d long to take you to the grocery store, show you off to his co-workers, or even simply take walks around the park in his neighborhood. However, the others would be quick to point out that your canine form might attract unwanted public attention, and the less people knew about your existence, the better it would be for everyone’s security.
Like, What the fuck do you mean he can’t take his purebred puppy inside this fine dining establishment?? He’s a billionaire. Make the exception before he has your whole restaurant shut down and each of your employees knee-deep in debt by the end of the day.
Link to official chapter
Like to previous cat reader
I’m so tired… really hope you liked this, anon.
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the-maddened-hatter · 3 months ago
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Alright so I pretty much said all of this verbatim on a reblog of someone else's post, but I wanted to put it here on my blog too.
As I've mentioned before, I would *very* much like to see Peri canonically having a disability that causes him to use his wand/cane and not just have it be an accessory, and so I analyzed the episodes he's in that I've been able to see so far and came up with a few observations:
As much as I'd be unopposed to seeing it portrayed, leg issues don't really seem like a major deal to fairies in general given as Cosmo misplaced his for most of an episode and a pair of sticks were a good enough replacement for him to have fun at the arcade in human form (without even drawing human attention)
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And Peri can apparently use his powers as listed above without his cane since he doesn't always immediately have it on his person (especially since Dev & Hazel took his cane in Lost in Fairy World and he didn't have any power or mobility problems)
But!
I *could* easily see him having some kind of magical fatigue issue or magical equivalent of hypotonia or balance disorder, since he's shown to be
very tired after a morning spent magically creating cupcakes (a probably small but very repetitive task that leaves him running low on energy)
When his stationary float is disrupted he remains seated instead of floating back up again
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3. A minor contact/startle reflex is enough to disrupt his hover and cause him to immediately fall pretty hard if not very far
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4. speaking of distance, he is shown to sometimes float a bit lower than his parents, which, while not consistent and likely just an animation choice, could tie in with the other points to support the diagnosis theory
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However, pain may admittedly be more of a factor than the above images suggest,
he may not just be tired from shape shifting like I'd thought since right before that he was walking (albeit in horse form) and afterwards (low) cloud float is apparently easier and faster for him than just quickly trotting past his parents
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He also didn't really seem to be having too much of a problem at all before he hit the ground
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Where it goes to a definitely tired and possibly more pained look.
Maybe he didn't want to tell Dev that it was painful either out of pride or because he didn't want to potentially upset him and just went with "tired" because that was what he assumed. It'd be interesting to see if it happens again in a different form.
Personally I think it'd be cool to see both and have it be a chronic condition (directly magical or otherwise) that he already had before the series began (diagnosed or not).
If he's the first fairy kid born in a long time he probably would have been monitored very closely, but it may have taken a while for doctors to notice a problem since there was little reference for comparison and may have even caused some potentially serious problems that gave Comso & Wanda a bad scare, which could tie in pretty well with their developing a high amount of over protectiveness of him, and that in turn leading him to try and behave too far in the other direction (not seeking help when he really does need it, pushing himself way too hard and suffering the fallout which he then tries to hide, ect)
If he's undiagnosed but having the problems it could be interesting to see sort of an inversion of the "character must learn to accept their disability" storyline wherein he's more connecting certain events & symptoms and we get to see him adapting to accommodations and letting himself try different approaches moreso than to having new symptoms (though we as the audience may see these symptoms more or behaviors contextualized as symptoms where they weren't necessarily before).
Idk either way I just think it would be cool (and I've probably put away more analysis into this than will ever pay off lol)
also to everyone who draws him as a disabled mobility device user: ILY please draw more of it it feeds my soul
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sy-on-boy · 10 months ago
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Real talk: the fact that Anya expects to read Demetrius’ mind but sees nothing is kind of sad because Demetrius saw his 6yo brother approach and congratulate him, and had zero thoughts in his brain. But that doesn’t mean Demetrius doesn’t care about him. When Damian stutters, Demetrius initiates conversation by talking about Damian’s grades, showing that he indeed pays attention.
Demetrius seems almost resentful by Damian’s insistence to impress Donovan, giving out a snarky, passive aggressive, teen appropriate response: “How would I know? It’s not as if I’m in regular contact with him.” This is like the passive aggressive version of whatever is going on with Melinda. Damian is a relatively innocent 6yo kid seeking his father’s approval, but both his mother and his brother appear to be seriously affected (in a bad way) by Donovan, and they avoid talking about Donovan even as Damian repeatedly mentions him. Demetrius doesn’t understand Damian’s desire for their father’s approval. He also doesn’t understand his father, hinting at some sort of disconnect between them.
What also saddens me a bit is how Demetrius barely acknowledged Damian’s friends talking to him. Like, they’re six year old kids trying to make a good impression. Still, Demetrius didn’t completely ignore them, just gave a meaningless “oh” and decided to stop thinking about people. It’s very much giving “stressed (and depressed) to the point of apathy”. When facing the innocence (ignorance?) and optimism of 6yo kids, Demetrius doesn’t understand. (And maybe he doesn’t understand friendship, which is what Damian has?)
I mentioned before that characters Anya met are probably “good” characters on the side of Forgers or at least are sympathetic to readers. Because if Anya met a “bad” character and read their mind, she would be too OP and the plot could be quickly solved. It’s like how we all thought Melinda was suspicious when she met Yor, but then Anya met Melinda and read her mind to reveal that she cares about Damian (even if it’s in a twisted way). Demetrius is interesting because he subverts what I said above by thinking very little, so Anya cannot really read him. But so far, I think his portrayal is that of a typical middle schooler with middle school angst, and he cares about Damian even if he has zero thoughts on his brain (and doesn’t like the way Damian craves fatherly approval). He is still a child and presumably a victim of his father’s parenting.
The framing is also interesting. Damian telling his friends to go on without him while he waits for Demetrius. The panel of Demetrius towering over a stuttering Damian. Demetrius going away, showing a panel of him as a small figure in an otherwise blank background. That panel when Anya thinks Damian’s relatives are weird has her looking at Damian while he’s some distance away from her (and the rest of his friends). The brothers feel disconnected. Damian is both eager and nervous to talk to Demetrius. Demetrius is nonchalant and apathetic, but not impolite or outwardly wholly dismissive.
Given Damian’s wacky family situation, I’m glad he has friends at Eden. Ewen and Emile of course are steadfast and loyal companions, always eager to back up their beloved boss man. Anya can read his mind and she knows about his insecurities (and also his weird family).
Becky is also good as a friend because she doesn’t care about sucking up to Damian, she often calls him out, but she also supports Damian when he deserves it. A sweet scene here is Damian saying he’s a Desmond so he’s expected to get a star, and Becky adding “it’s still a great achievement. Congrats!”. Becky is validating his success and telling Damian it’s okay to be proud and happy for himself. Even though she’s usually judgemental towards Damian, she’s still kind to him because that’s who she is as a character.
In the end, Damian still wants his father’s attention. He had no idea Demetrius wasn’t that close to their father… I would assume Demetrius spent most of his time at Eden and this is Damian’s first year at Eden, so he actually gets to interact with his brother instead of hearing things about him?
So far, Demetrius seems like a very jaded character in contrast to Damian who feels like a beam of sunshine now. He’s the heir so he’s got more troubles. But it’s nice that he’s finally debuted and no longer in mystery. Can’t wait to see what Endo has in store for him :)
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