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saltstarzz · 4 months ago

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“ 𝐋𝐚𝐩𝐝𝐨𝐠. ”

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: cultleader!geto x AMAB reader, SFW + NSFW. SFW: dark themes + stalking + manipulation + brainwashing + extremist ideology + cult activities + violence + mentions of violence + minor gore + possessiveness. NSFW: cock warming + leashes + extreme edging + BDSM + brief spit play + slapping + bondage + riding (power bottom!geto) 𝐚/𝐧: this one is hella freaky, and god bless bottom!geto.

・❥・ 𝐒𝐅𝐖

it starts off normal at first.

let’s say you’re like a grade two sorcerer who’s never even heard of cultleader!geto. you’re strong enough to be considered a sorcerer, but not strong enough to be respected by your peers. people don’t outright call you weak, but the suggestions to consider becoming an assistant manager are hard to ignore. you fight curses non-stop, and still can’t get any respect…

now imagine this handsome young man with the prettiest black hair and sharp golden eyes comes to you one day, singing your praises. you’re so distracted by his smile and the way he carries himself that you don’t even notice the groups of strangers that have been tailing you for close to an hour now.

“you’d be better off with me, where your talents would truly be appreciated.” and just like that, he’s got you hook like and sinker.

cultleader!geto has a way of making you feel special. hushed little whispers and tasks he entrusts specifically to you. quick smiles and sweet praises. you’re feeling so appreciated that you hardly even notice how he’s begun calling you “lapdog”.

and about those tasks… oh boy. you find very quickly that cultleader!geto has no interest in peace when it comes to “monkeys”, or non-sorcerers. one minute he’s preaching to a crowd, and the next there’s a room full of corpses aside from the three or four sorcerers who might have been able to fight him off. they’re usually indoctrinated and cultleader!geto tasks you the job of cleaning up his mess.

it’s okay though, it’s cultleader!geto. your talents are needed here. why else he keep you around?

soon enough, you’re his most devoted follower. you’re not the strongest, nor the fastest, nor the smartest, but you’re his and cultleader!geto protects what’s his. soon you’re his shadow, always by his side.

the only time you ever have second thoughts is only when cultleader!geto leaves a village near the coast of Japan is ruins. hundreds of people deceased in absolutely vicious states. men, women and horrifyingly, children. he barely bats an eye, and it keeps you up at night.

you confront cultleader!geto one evening. probably not the smartest thing, you know he could kill you easily for this kind of insubordination. but he doesn’t. when you rant and tell him how jealous you are, he smiles. the same exact smile he gave you all those months ago.

“they’re meaningless insects, you know that." he’d say. you know he’s telling you what you want to hear. you should leave, but he’s pulling you in.

“they mean nothing to you or i. you’re my champion. i need you, and you want to leave me?"

WARNING: NSFW AHEAD: MINORS DNI, Thank you.

・❥・𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖

unsurprisingly, being cultleader!geto’s number one follower inevitably gets you into his bed. Such devotion should be rewarded, and cultleader!geto is an absolute freak.

absolute bondage warrior. red or black ropes, i don’t make the rules. cultleader!geto’s got you tied down, hands and feet to each bedpost, absolutely naked.

and all that praise cultleader!geto gives you during the day? gone. you go from his little ‘champion’ to ‘lapdog’ real quick.

“how pitiful, even in bed you’re nothing but a lapdog. aren’t you ashamed of yourself?"

and I feel like cultleader!geto is no stranger to roleplay, I mean this dude is freaky as hell, are we surprised 😭😭? he’s got this expensive black leather collar for you, equipped with a silver nametag with your name on it and an expensive matching leash. he tugs on the leash to hear you bark, whine and gasp for air like the lapdog you are.

and the edging… lord save you, he is a nightmare when it comes to edging.

cultleader!geto’s not the kinda guy to edge you with foreplay. sure, he’s got a cute little bullet vibrator nestled inside of you, but that’s not even close to enough.

no, this man is evil through and through. sat nestled on your cock, all the way to the hilt, and cockwarming you for hours at a time. cutleader!geto soft and warm and he knows he’s fucking tight and he takes advantage of that.

“oh, poor thing. look at you tearing up. you want to fuck me so bad, but you can’t. what a dilemma…”

and when you do get to cum, cultleader!geto makes a game out of it. in the hours that he’s sat on your throbbing cock, he’ll pound himself onto it, babbling hushed nonsense while you’re practically melting into the bed. just as you’re about to cum, cultleader!geto will slam himself down and look back at you as tears trickle down your cheeks.

absolute menace. life without parole!!

and finally, when a shred of mercy enters cultleader!geto’s heart, he finally lets you cum. facing you, riding your cock so hard the bed is creaking, he lets you cum. of course not inside him. never inside of him, you’re not worthy of that. no, he pulls off just as you’re about to cum and lets you paint your own stomach white. a mess.

“to think you’d last longer. a shame.” he’ll say, his own cock throbbing. such a liar.

there’s no aftercare. cultleader!geto is a busy man and these few hours together should be treasured. he’ll put his clothes back on, undo your bindings and leave you there like he’d never been there in the first place, fucking you silly.

“Please…”

You can hear the blood thrumming in your ears, and your bodies strung tight like a spring. How much longer is he going to toy with you like this? Bouncing on your cock, fucking himself down onto you like a toy, keeping you hard enough to touch every spot he fucking loves. While you’re suffering, Geto’s got his hands on your chest, mewling at how your cock stretches him, his hips moving on instinct, fucking himself onto you.

“Please, Geto, please—”

YANK!

The air in your lungs is forced out of you, your head lurching forward with a sharp tug as Geto pulls the leash back, sharp golden eyes trained on you like an insect crossing his path.

“Who said you could speak, dog?” he laughs, incredulous.

“No one,” you breathe. Anything to get this man to go faster. To let you cum deep inside of him like you’ve been dreaming of. If only your hands weren’t bound and getting bruised, you’d grab his hips and fuck him down onto you. Maybe fuck the cruelty out of him if you were lucky.

“Open your mouth.”

Your fingernails dig into the red ropes binding your wrists, and you peer up at him. He’s sparkly with sweat, just like you, his cheeks flushed and his lips bruised and raw from biting at them. Fucking sexy. If you could commit him to memory, you would in a heartbeat.

You open your mouth, watching him lean forward. And with little warning, he spits into your mouth, his fingers digging deep crescent marks into your cheeks, his other hand holding your leash.

And you cum like you never have before. Rope after rope leaves you, burying each pulse of his cum into him. Geto jumps, his eyes wild and alert. He pulls himself up just as you paint your stomach and his ass with your cum. You’re so dizzy from the heat, you don’t even realize he’s speaking to you.

“Consider yourself fortunate, Lapdog."

His hand slaps against your cheek, leaving a stinging blow that brings you back to the moment.

“Next time you cum inside me, we won’t be having a conversation…”

#jjk x reader #jjk x male reader #jjk smut #geto suguru #geto x male reader #jujutsu kaisen #tw: dark content #tw: cults

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archonsbane · 1 year ago

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AND I TRY TO TALK REFINED

The one time Il Dottore speaks to you in another language, the one time he speaks to someone else in another language, and the one time you give him a taste of his own medicine.

pairing. dottore x reader

tags & content warnings. gn!reader. reader is the tsaritsa's child. reader is referred to by they/them. there's one (1) mildly suggestive sentence (and it's in a different language lol).

word count. 2.9k

author's note. so. i'm back from the dead. i have two fics for pantalone and one for diluc, around 8k+ words. (none of them are finished LMFAO) but of course i drop everything for this stupid ass man. the reader here is my tsaritsa’schild!reader, though this takes place before beauty is terror. this is set in the early days of their relationship and the start of dottore’s involvement in the fatui. reader's backstory is also implied here, but not outright stated. also i got inspiration from @fatuismooches lovely headcanons, though i strayed a bit far HAHA. thank you for letting me write this! and thank you to my two lovely delulu friends (you know who you are) bc i suddenly got into the mood to write because of them. also, what is heavily implied to be the script of khaenri'ah in-game is based on latin, so i headcanon that latin is the language of khaenri'ah. also i had to sneak in a tsh reference lmfao it was too perfect not to. i promise i don't include it in all my fics it just so happens to be perfect for certain situations huhu. also i hope you guys catch all the little details i put in! reader and dottore have always been like this lol the title is from 'talk' by hozier.

You are undoubtedly the worst teacher Dottore has ever had, bar none.

Flighty, distracted, and prone to seamlessly maneuvering to an entirely different topic without blinking an eye, leaving him dumbfounded. Your teaching sessions, if they could be called that, are filled with constant interrogations of his life and large infusions of food. Half the time you aren’t even teaching him, you’re simply rambling about whatever it is you ramble about (he’s learned to tune you out, partly because he doesn’t care and partly because he can’t understand what you’re saying). He is truly reconsidering forgoing learning Snezhnayan — at the pace you're going, he might as well take his chances and learn by himself.

“But Mother said,” you remind him, petulantly, like a small child. Yes, the Tsaritsa commanded him to learn Snezhnayan, and commanded you to teach him, but he is greatly tempted to ask her to send another teacher. It has only been two weeks since your lessons begun and he might truly go mad. Sometimes he thinks this might be the worst thing a divine being has ever inflicted on him.

In truth, he already knows Snezhnayan, but only enough to hold a polite conversation. It is his least favorite of the languages he learned from his teachers in the Akademiya, and anyway, he never quite had a deftness for tongues. He is always most at home working with his hands, destroying and creating physical matter, covered in dust and soot, cracking open the world’s secrets like an egg. But the Tsartisa willed him to learn, and he is nothing if not a scholar.

“But Mother said,” he mocks, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. He’s learned that you have no convictions about his personality. If anything, you seemed to embrace it. Whereas he dons a respectful — as respectful as he can conjure, anyways — mask with the Jester and the Tsaritsa, it’s… looser, with you. Still, he is careful not to cross the line. He is only allowed this because he amuses you. You've been treating him like some sort of pet to be played with whenever you desire since his coming here. “Your mother also said to teach me how to speak Snezhnayan, but this is the third time you’ve called for snacks in three hours.”

You flash a lazy glare at him and go back to eating your beloved pastilas. “You require a tremendous amount of effort to teach.” You’ve switched back to speaking the common tongue, obviously for his sake. “You’re a horrible student.”

“You’re a horrible teacher!”

You sniff and take another bite of your pastry. “You’re just really bad at learning.”

For that, you get a glance heavenward. He is tempted to simply throttle you and be done with it. Treason seems like a fair price to pay for shutting you up. But he considers his options and decides that he would rather not be on the receiving end of your mother’s wrath — it’s too fucking cold here already. Still, greatly offended by this statement, he vents out his anger by cursing at you.

In the language of Sumeru.

He does not really think of it; his use of his mother tongue has greatly decreased since coming here, but even then, it simply rolls off his tongue as naturally as water flows from a river's mouth.

Your brows shoot up. You open your mouth, pause, and for a moment he fears he is in danger of being exiled or thrown in the dungeon. But then you cock your head to the side. “What does that mean?” You ask.

An idea unravels in his mind, sparkling with mischief. “It means you’re bad at teaching.”

You frown. “For some reason, I feel like you’re lying.”

He curses at you again. Your frown deepens. There is something so satisfying about the way those frustrated lines burrow into your face. When he does it a third time, you actually put down the pastila.

“What does it mean?” You demand. “You aren’t saying anything bad, are you?”

It means you’re an insufferable little bastard of mean intelligence and he hopes you fall into a ditch, so yes, he definitely is saying something bad. “It means you’re the most gorgeous, most wonderful person in the world,” he says, sarcasm dripping from the syllables. When you look genuinely taken aback, he lets out a cruel, derisive scoff. “It means you should trust me more.”

“That seems like a horrible idea.”

He shrugs and reaches over to take one of the pastilas, light pink with a white, foamy top, vaguely aware that another one of your language lessons has gone considerably off course. Perhaps that was too light a description. It shot in one direction and came speeding back the other way. “Suit yourself, Your Imperial Highness.”

You smack his hand away, gently. Almost too gently. “Those are mine.”

He eats it, anyway, and learns many new colorful Snezhnayan curses for it, though he detects no real annoyance in your voice. You ring for another batch of desserts. He counts it as a successful lesson.

He continues speaking in Sumerian when you're near. It’s the greatest of treasures, seeing you frown and demand to know what he had just uttered in your presence. Sometimes he just says the first phrase that enters his head, most times he insults you and relishes in your clueless blinking. You can't do the same to him — he's been picking up on Snezhnayan at an exponential pace, and he's made sure to memorize all of the insults and swears first. Obviously. It’s his talent for machinations that he prides himself on, but lately, he’s been deriving vicious pleasure from the fact he can speak twenty languages, though it never mattered much to him before. It’s a good, safe outlet for his annoyance whenever you’re near, which you seem to always be, nowadays.

Even outside the language ‘lessons’ (the word lessons being used extremely lightly) you seem to trail him wherever he goes. Ambushing him in the halls, materializing in the laboratory, and in general trailing him like some attention-starved puppy. He resents it, resents the stars that float through your eyes whenever he enters your view, resents the way you immediately disengage from whatever it was that you were doing to attach yourself to him, all smiles.

He actively avoids you, but somehow you keep running into him. On purpose or accidentally, he has no idea. He suspects it is the former.

Today is one of those days. You’re by his side, again, chatting happily about… something. He’s trying to tune you out, focusing on the long walk back to his laboratories after a meeting with the Tsaritsa. He needs to do something about that, it’s woefully inconvenient to have to walk a mile every time she calls on him. Some sort of contraption that could go up and down easily would be of great use, and he wouldn’t have to climb so many fucking stairs.

Then — it happens. In your excitement, you bump into some government official accompanied by another, what his role is Dottore does not know and does not care to, but he must be quite high up if he allows himself to glare at you for an instant before it disappears into a cool stare. Or maybe he just has a lot of gall.

"Oh, my apologies sir," you murmur, ducking your head.

"Quite alright, Your Highness," he says smoothly, "have a good day." He turns his back and starts to mutter to his companion, their heads bent together, completely unaware that with your godly senses and his recent enhancements to his body, you both can hear every word.

"How clumsy," the first man tuts, "what does their mother teach them? She's been too soft on them."

"She lets them run amok doing whatever they please. The other day, they—"

"—yes, I heard. Look at those clothes, aren't they too plain for the heir?"

His companion makes an agreeing noise. "And the company they keep… "

Dottore doesn't particularly care about what other people think of him, and perhaps if it was only the last sentence that had been uttered he wouldn't have said a word, but the tirade of their complaints makes irritation, absurdly, flare inside him. He whips his head back to their retreating figures, and you throw him a glaring warning, so he clenches his jaw and stays where he is. He isn't one to do nothing, however.

“Kol khara,” he says to them, viciously. Eat shit. He hears you stifle a sound that might be a laugh and briefly wonders why exactly you would laugh.

The men turn back around. “Excuse me?” The first one says.

“Nothing,” he says, curtly, his eyes like sharp daggers, “go on." They throw each other confused glances but say nothing further, going further down the hall until he can no longer see their backs. You both stay in the middle of the now-empty hallway, staring silently off into the distance.

You’ve never been able to contain your curiosity for long. After a good minute of silence, you turn inquisitive eyes on him. He’s been expecting your question.

"What did you say?" You ask.

He shrugs; makes a dismissive gesture with his hand. "Nothing."

You narrow your eyes. "I know it isn't nothing. It was something bad, right? You've said it to me before.” Clever you, he thinks briefly. Nothing gets past you. When he stays enclosed in icy silence, you press on further, “I won’t be mad. It doesn’t bother me — I think it’s funny. Just tell me.” He has no idea why you would ever think it’s funny. Nonetheless, he stays silent.

You try again. “Tell me.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Tell me,” you say again, but this time you slip into the voice of the noble, unshakeable heir to Winter. The two words are a command, and they leave no room for argument. He must follow.

He sighs and runs a hand down his face. “It means I want them to eat shit.”

A moment of silence passes and Dottore wonders if he should start running. Then, you start to laugh. A small laugh, so small he almost thinks he could cup it in his hands and never let it go. But he recognizes it as different from the laughs you’ve given him before. This one is warm and sweet, conjured from the belly upwards. Summer in a sound.

He tries very hard not to smile when he says, “you aren’t mad?”

“No,” you say, still laughing, “I suppose I do deserve it.” He silently agrees. “Anyways, after coming to my defense, I forgive you.”

He snarls, that sudden irritation reviving itself. “I wasn’t coming to your defense.”

You shrug, not looking bothered at all. “Fine. Defending yourself and by extension — and complete coincidence — me.”

He decides it is best not to argue, and listens quietly as you walk with him back to his laboratory, chatting happily away once more. If you notice that over the next few days, his outbursts toward you decrease, you say nothing of it. And if you notice he is insulting other people more in other languages, seemingly for the sole purpose of making you laugh, you say nothing of it, too.

You’re speaking Sumerian.

Fluent Sumerian. Rapid-fire Sumerian, without blinking or stumbling over your words. Clean, pure Sumerian, speaking everything with the perfect enunciation of a noble. You don’t notice him behind you, utterly bemused, as you speak to a foreign dignitary from his homeland. The First drags him out of the underground labs from time to time in order to socialize and familiarize himself with the political atmosphere, but Dottore lets you do all the work for him. You engage in polite small talk, though delivered with much more enthusiasm than necessary. But the words are barely intelligible in his head. It isn’t possible that you’ve learned how to speak fluent Sumerian in such a short about of time. He will begrudgingly admit your brightness, small as it is, but even he cannot master a language within a few months. Which means there must only be one conclusion.

When you notice him, your face morphs into one of surprised panic. Oh. He’s sure his fury is plain to see. It’s at that precise moment the dignitary — Dottore does not see the point in blessings but, Archons bless her — chooses to excuse herself, leaving you open and without a proper excuse to escape with.

“You can speak Sumerian,” he says, plainly, having immediately taken the empty spot at your side. You take cautious, half-step backwards.

You look both amused and slightly abashed.

He grits his teeth. “For how long?”

“... since I was five." A pause. You look thoughtful. "Actually, it was your Greater Lord Rukkhadevata who first taught me."

This new piece of information surprises him so much that the flames of his anger are snuffed out, if only for a second. Then they come back raging, and he cannot contain it.

"You knew what I was saying this entire time!" He rages, jabbing an accusing finger at you. You cringe away. "You could understand all of it!"

"Not all of it—" When you see the exasperation that crosses his face, you smile. "Alright. Most of it."

You begin to walk away, but he furiously follows you. "You lied to me!"

"You were cursing me to my face. I think it's a fair exchange." You shrug with one shoulder, eyes sparkling with mischief. "It was funny, anyway. Your cluelessness, that is." And then, "you should know, now that you know — I can speak the main languages of each nation."

"I can too," he says haughtily, raising his chin up at you.

"Really?" You laugh. "Cubitum eamus?"

"What?"

"Nothing."

"What does that mean?" He demands, only half aware he's repeating the interaction you once had over a plate of pink and white sweets. He's never heard a language sounding quite like that. Perhaps it could be a dialect, but it doesn't sound similar to any currently existing language. "What language is that?"

You deliver your coup de grâce with such smooth smugness on your face. "It's Khaenri'ahn." The dead language.

He blinks. Opens his mouth dumbly. And lunges.

As he chases you through the halls, your laughter floats warm and clear in the frigid winter air. You easily outpace him, but perhaps out of pity, you let him catch you and drag you to — well, he doesn't exactly know where he's going, only that he does not want to let you escape his rage. You thrash in his arms like a trapped animal, still controlled by a laughing fit all the while.

"I hate you," he grumbles later, when you've calmed him with a slice of strawberry cheesecake from the kitchens. He's still quite angry, but not angry enough to not accept your peace offering. "You're horrible."

"So are you."

A pause, then, "Teach me Khaenri'ahn," he says, leaning forward, a bright idea sparking in his chest. "There's so many texts I have yet to decipher — you have no idea the knowledge I can grasp if you teach me." He thinks of the old Ruin Golems in Sumeru. How hard it was to learn how to control them! But with your help, with your knowledge, he could crack the world open like an egg and watch its secrets spill like yolk.

"I thought I was a bad teacher."

"Bad is better than none at all."

The utterly offended look that flashes on your face teases a grin from his mouth. "You're horrible."

"So are you."

He thinks he sees the corner of your mouth involuntarily curl upward. You twirl your fork in your fingers, humming thoughtfully. "Why should I?"

"... For the pleasure of contributing to my research?" The look you give him tells him you're not at all convinced. He continues, "My research that is so very essential to the success of this nation?"

You scoff, but you cannot deny it. He would not be alive if he wasn't useful to Snezhnaya.

"You'll owe me," you tell him.

He shrugs. "There's worse things in the world. Let's start."

It startles you somewhat. "What, now?"

"Yes, now. Unless you have other things to do?"

You don't. Your language lessons with him already ended when he reached an acceptable mastery over Snezhnayan according to your mother, and he knows that though you have a schedule (mysterious and utterly incomprehensible though it is — not even he has been able to figure it out), you'd drop everything in an instant if something else interests you. Your other engagements are often boring things, too, and the only duty you ever truly commit to are the strange missions your mother sends you on, ones that could go for months on end. He's fairly certain you'll acquiesce to his request.

You pretend to consider it, before shrugging with hardwon carelessness and saying, "Fine."

You're exactly the same. Flighty, distracted, and prone to seamlessly maneuvering to an entirely different topic without blinking an eye. Half the cheesecake is eaten before you even start on the alphabet, and the journey to that is filled with endless detours that consist of bickering, fighting over the (large) cake, and kicking each other like children under his work table. His intelligence is insulted more times in half an hour than in his entire years of study at the Akademiya.

Dottore decides, with solid determination, after eating the last slice of cake, finally learning the pronunciation of the vowels and consonants, and being on the receiving end of an onslaught of Khaeri’ahn curses he truly cannot understand — which is horribly ironic considering the past few weeks — that he might as well beg the Jester for lessons instead, and no one can do a damn thing about it. He tells this to you, chin up, resolute and unwavering in his declaration.

He never does get around to doing that.

#— ficlets.#genshin imapct #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #dottore #il dottore #dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #fatui x reader #the cubitum eamus question is a reference to the secret history for those who don't know #reader is asking dottore to sleep with them lmfao #also the full lyric for the title is #'so I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how i'm imaginin' you'#so that's something :))

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yuurei20 · 1 year ago

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Hi! I've seen some posts going around about Epel's accent and Vil correcting him. From what I gathered Epel has a pretty farmland accent that can be basically indecipherable so Vil being hard on him for it is both 'this is kind of casual' and 'i have no idea what you're saying' but could still be kind of elitist/classist. But I see some people saying Vil is just correcting Epel because he's swearing a lot?

Thank you so much for this question! Reading through just the EN adaptation of Book 5, I think I can understand why people might be annoyed by Vil’s wording: in English, he says outright that Epel should “speak properly,” as if his natural dialect is somehow improper and objectively “wrong.”

But his original line is closer to, “Speak more politely”! (The translations in these images are just more literal rewordings of the original dialogue, not meant to be corrections or improvements over EN’s localization)

I think the game was aware of the risk it was taking by having Vil give such an order, which is why it has Epel immediately jump to that assumption himself, so that Vil can explain it is not Epel’s hometown pride he has an issue with, but rather the outdated mindset that comes with it.

While softened on EN, Epel is quite misogynistic in the original game. He also repeats the same insult three times, possibly as an example of his limited vocabulary, which is another of Vil’s projects.

While Epel does say that Vil has told him not to use the accent specifically, Vil explains that he just wants him to consider the time, place and occasion for it.

Question: But then why does Vil order him to drop the accent entirely if the only problem is that he’s speaking rudely? Surely he can just speak politely while keeping his accent?

Answer: There is another layer to this that is more difficult to explain in English, but I shall try!

The Japanese language has multiple verb forms that change depending upon who you’re talking to at the time. “Meshiagaru,” “taberu” and “kuu” are three different ways to say “eat,” for example, depending on how polite you want to be.

In the beach scene (and anywhere we get his Harveston dialect), Epel immediately shifts into casual/impolite verb forms.

I searched for the most formal interaction involving characters speaking in the Harveston dialect that I could find (where the mayor is apologizing to Marja), and even there, the character was using casual/informal verb forms.

So that is what Vil is actually getting at: he wants Epel to use polite speech around his senpai and teachers, but Epel’s original dialect might just not adhere to that system.

The Harveston dialect clearly has its own ways to denote politeness, which must make sense when you’re there, but outside of Harveston what is a harmless and natural way of speaking becomes offensive from the perspective of everyone else (when Marja adapts her speaking patterns so that the visiting NRC students can understand her, she uses polite forms).

Not able to have a student from his dorm obliviously insulting everyone around him through his verb forms, Vil bans Epel’s accent entirely, presumably so that Epel can grow more accustomed to interacting with people from other countries and then learn to judge for himself the times, places and occasions outside of Harveston where that degree of informality is appropriate :>

(Omake: I conferred with an American friend who told me it sounds like this is the opposite of how things are in the US, where sometimes it is assumed that people from more rural communities use more polite speech (using "sir" and ma'am") than people in cities, so they visit cities and are surprised by forms are expression that are considered rude where they come from. This is the same, but backwards! Epel is going from a laidback rural village to a more populated location where polite speech is expected of everyone, and is experiencing culture shock as a result.)

#anon #twisted wonderland #Epel Felmier #Vil Schoenheit

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saintsenara · 1 year ago

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You mentioned fanon turning barty crouch jr. into an uninteresting character. I don't know much about what the new fanon characterisation has really done with him, but I'm curious for your thoughts on why he's a canonically interesting character. I agree that he is, but it sounds like you might have some interesting thoughts on it that are already fleshed out.

thank you for the ask, @jamesunderwater, and i'm sorry for taking so long to drag myself around to answering this.

as you may have gathered if you’ve read my views on jegulus or wolfstar, the common fanon interpretation of marauders-era characters and i don’t really get on.

this is not a new development - me and goofy fanon sirius have been beefing for over a decade at this point, i fear - but our enmity has taken on a new form since [roughly] 2020, when the emergence of what we might call the modern marauders subfandom brought with it a whole series of expectations about characters, ships, personalities, and appearances in first war stories which - let me state my position immediately - have absolutely nothing to do with the characters as they are in canon.

i could talk about sirius or regulus or james or snape or lupin until the cows come home - as, i’m sure, could many of us - but i also dislike the expectations the marauders subfandom has around its supporting cast. these characters - who largely fall under the categories of women, slytherins, or both - have names that we might recognise from canon, but they are - to all intents and purposes - original characters.

to do some marauders fan defending, i do understand the rationale behind this. hogwarts is a school, and it needs to be filled with the sort of incidental characters that lightning-era writers can pull from the canon text [shoutout to ernie macmillan, the mvp]. if you’re writing about lily, then she needs friends - why not have them be alice, marlene, dorcas, emmeline, pandora etc.?

[well, because dumbledore isn’t running a child army. it makes no sense for the entire order of the phoenix to be in the same school year - and the idea that alice is probably around ten years older than lily, that pandora is around the same age as narcissa malfoy and isn’t a pureblood, and that marlene, dorcas, and emmeline are hard-nosed ministry bitches in their fifties who can have mad-eye moody quaking with just a look is something which can be prised from my cold, dead hands.]

and if you’re writing about the epic highs and lows of high-school football going to school during a sectarian conflict, then you need some antagonists. which is to say, you need some slytherins.

the issue i have is that the three key slytherins who seem to have been elevated to principal cast in the marauders pantheon - regulus black, barty crouch jr., and evan rosier - get what can only be called the smol bean treatment. that is, that three teenagers who all canonically join a terror organisation are turned into soft and tiny babies who thought lord voldemort was just feeling silly when he said, "my aim is the eradication of the muggleborn population through violent means."

and even fics which do acknowledge that the three willingly become terrorists often go out of their way to provide justifications for this which don’t contextualise their decision [something which is important - you can’t write about snape becoming a death eater without acknowledging the way that poverty, loneliness, and a sense of hopelessness make someone an easy target of radicalisation] but which minimise it. sometimes, their violence is turned into romantic vengeance - i’ve seen a fair amount of suggestions that barty goes to torture the longbottoms because frank was the auror who killed evan. sometimes, authors imply - or even outright state - that there’s no need to see these boys as aspiring villains: voldemort is right; the class system is good and should be maintained; and purebloods [usually james, sirius, regulus, barty, evan and maybe a token woman or two] should stick together while the half-breeds and the mudbloods go hang.

this - like all aristocracy wank in this fandom - annoys me enough with regulus and evan. but it’s particularly grating when it comes to barty crouch jr. because - unlike evan, who is literally just a name in the text, and regulus, who isn’t much more - he actually has a canon personality.

and it’s fascinating. indeed, i would even go so far as to say that barty crouch jr. is the greatest villain in the harry potter series.

[my apologies to lord voldemort.]

after all, even though he’s been imprisoned under the imperius curse for over a decade, barty is still so lucid and powerful that he is able to:

produce magic capable of tricking the goblet of fire, which is treated by all the adult characters involved as unprecedented.

pull off a year-long impersonation of a man whom dumbledore evidently knows extremely well without being clocked until his mission has been successful, even though his opportunities to observe the real moody can have been virtually non-existent. he is in character within seconds of his ambush on moody’s home - after the intruder-alert dustbins are set off - and is able to persuade ministry personnel who can be presumed to have met moody personally [including both amos diggory and arthur weasley, who appear to know him not only personally, but well] that he is the real deal. he maintains his performance even under close scrutiny from the teaching colleagues he has to interact with daily at hogwarts, despite the fact that he presumably can’t get a great deal out of the real moody, since he’s having to be kept deliberately weak and docile under the imperius curse.

manipulate multiple people into become accessories to his crimes, without ever being suspected of doing so. with the hindsight of knowing who he is, the first defence against the dark arts lesson in goblet of fire, in which "moody" deliberately distresses neville by using the cruciatus curse directly in front of him, before swooping in to be the person to cheer him up so that he can plant information which will help harry win the triwizard tournament and deliver him to voldemort, is chilling. he just gets unlucky that harry has the biggest martyr complex in human history.

commit murder on hogwarts’ grounds without ever being suspected of wrongdoing.

execute lord voldemort’s plan to kidnap harry and use him in his resurrection ritual flawlessly. the plan itself may be convoluted - but dark lords are allowed to have a flair for the dramatic, as a treat - but, crucially, it works, and barty succeeds in every respect.

but, i concede, we’re talking about the adult barty here. perhaps he was once a sweetheart who went unfortunately off the rails after his father sent him to prison and then - in effect - drugged him for years. that wouldn’t be a ridiculous suggestion.

except for the fact that - canonically - the teen barty was just as clever, sly, manipulative, and - above all - ardent in his support for voldemort as his adult self.

at his trial in the early 1980s, young barty gives the performance of a lifetime. he screams, he shakes, he looks terrified of the dementors, he is pale and weak and harmless-looking, he begs his mother to help him, he pleads with his father for mercy, he maintains his innocence as he's dragged off to his cell. he gives off the impression of simply having been in the wrong place at the wrong time so well that harry is almost certain that his conviction is illegitimate. so too, it is implied, is dumbledore.

indeed, barty plays the part of the wrongfully imprisoned so well that - as canon tells us - he not only influences public opinion to be broadly in favour of his probable innocence [or, at least, his diminished culpability - sirius suggests that the widespread view was that he was probably there, but that he only ended up involved in what was clearly bellatrix’s idea because of his father’s failure to relate to him properly], but also changes public opinion against the government’s anti-death-eater strategy entirely.

following his imprisonment, his father - a man who never met an extrajudicial punishment he didn’t like, and whose ruthless approach to dealing with the death eaters in the first war [such as his use of internment for suspected terrorists and his order to aurors to shoot to kill] was, we are told, enormously popular with the wizarding public - is forced to resign in disgrace from his role as head of the department of magical law enforcement. crouch sr. is quietly shuffled off into a boring bureaucratic position, his ambitions to be minister in tatters, and his only way forward to free his son from the prison cell where he is languishing for the crime he very literally did.

[as an aside, i do think that we are supposed to read bellatrix as the ringleader of the torture of the longbottoms. but, all too often, that gets reduced to her doing everything while rodolphus, rabastan, and barty just stand there gormlessly. they were clearly performing the curses too!]

now, barty’s unusual cunning can - of course - be explained by narrative reasons. the text needs to conceal that he’s the villain [since, as with philosopher’s stone, it wants to imply that the dark lord’s faithful servant at hogwarts is snape] until the very end - and this naturally requires dumbledore to not think too hard about whether his good judy alastor is behaving even more strangely than usual.

the text also needs to suggest that he's innocent in order to properly stick the landing on the narrative role of his father - barty crouch sr. as with dolores umbridge in order of the phoenix, crouch sr. exists to show harry [and the reader] that the rot in the wizarding world was not caused by - and will not stop with the defeat of - voldemort. his ruthlessness and inflexibility, his lack of respect for due process, his astonishingly cruel treatment of winky [brutal beyond even the standard way in which wizards abuse their enslaved elves] all serve to teach harry that the anti-voldemort cause can become just as easily corrupted as the disillusioned young men in voldemort’s orbit. the suggestion that crouch sent his own son to azkaban without good reason, simply because he would not deviate from his beliefs, is an important lesson to harry about what "justice" actually means.

but, despite this, barty is also able to pull off his deception because he’s spectacularly talented. it’s not all just narrative.

and his talents are caused by characteristics which aren’t good or bad in and of themselves. he’s clearly very intelligent [he got twelve owls, the series’ benchmark for genius]. he’s hyper-observant, creative, adaptable, good under pressure, and possessed of nerves of steel. he shares these traits with other villains in the series - voldemort above all - but he also shares them with plenty of the heroes. harry, for one.

which is to say that all of his personality traits could be put to non-criminal uses. but - as with harry, who is capable of being quite sinister when he wants to be [for example, when he manipulates slughorn into giving up the horcrux memory] - they would give a non-criminal barty an edge. and this doesn’t seem to be present in his standard fanon persona - as sweet and goofy as all marauders-era men - to any great extent.

finally, there is another aspect of barty’s character which is absent from his fanon version - that he clearly has some sort of childhood trauma, but that this does not excuse any of what he does.

even though crouch sr. is right to send him to azkaban, he was clearly also a cold and distant father, who had absolutely no idea how to relate to his son.

[as another aside, this emotional negligence is bad enough without it needing to be written as having been accompanied by extreme physical and/or sexual abuse. there seems to be a real tendency in fanfiction - not only in marauders-era stuff, although the exaggeration of orion and walburga black into despotic villains is one example of this - to make childhood misery "worse", in order to justify a character’s later actions.]

voldemort demonstrably uses barty’s terrible relationship with crouch sr. [and his absolutely flagrant daddy kink] to groom him into taking the dark mark [not least because there’s otherwise no explanation for why he cheerfully informs him that he too is named after his dad], which he may very well end up taking when he’s still at school. my reading is that he’s recruited to inform on his father - since voldemort would undoubtedly wish to keep the head of the department of magical law enforcement under constant surveillance - and that this is why the dark lord pays him the attention he is so obviously lacking.

but, as with snape and regulus and draco malfoy and all the other young death eaters, barty also colludes in his own radicalisation. voldemort is a master at ensnaring recruits, sure, but he’s also a busy man. he only bothers to make the effort because the clever, creative, cunning, manipulative young man - who wishes to avenge himself on the father who never paid him attention [sound familiar?] - he finds before him is very much determined to become a spectacular part of his terrorist organisation. and stories which feature him owe it to him to give him that dark complexity of character

show the series’ best villain some respect.

#asks answered #asenora meta #barty crouch jr

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mixelation · 1 year ago

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oh no reborn au au (this time it's sillier) ate my brain

kakashi and tori meeting goes the same as reborn au. read that if you haven't yet for context

****

ANBU Mantis was dead, and his body was being slowly eaten by his kikaichu. The little black insects swarmed over him, a fuzzy black cloud of clicking wings moving over his form, and they were not the least bit bothered as Tori experimentally stuck her forceps into the mass. They only parted for her, revealing pink, partially chewed skin.

So that was… she didn’t want to say “gross.” Kakashi was across from her, clearly upset, and it would be polite of her to remember Mantis was his teammate. A real person.

It still made her stomach roll. She’d seen worse– done worse– but that didn’t mean she was having fun.

There was a sudden shift in the room, eerily familiar. A cold breeze passed over her back. Kakashi looked up, and his shoulders slumped with sudden relief.

“Took you long enough,” Kakashi said, even as Tori’s stomach dropped all the way.

Obito was standing not three feet from her. The glimmer of kamui closing distorted the tent wall behind him.

“I have things to do,” Obito replied. “Not my fault you’re a perpetual damsel in distress, Bakashi.”

Obito looked… he looked good, Tori thought. His face was whole and unblemished. He had both eyes, explaining why Kakashi had no sharingan, and both were blood red. He wore a standard Konoha flak jacket unzipped over an Uchiha-style black shirt and black pants. His posture was completely at ease, his hands shoved into his pockets.

He did look kind of annoyed, with a little crease between his brows. He turned his vaguely irritated gaze on Tori, and she watched as his sharingan relaxed from a mangekyou to three tomoe. She clutched her forceps tightly in front of her, like that might protect her if Obito decided she needed to die.

She didn’t need protection. She watched, millisecond by millisecond, as Obito flicked his eyes over her face, took a detour to study her hair, and then slowly widened with recognition. A grin spread across his face, centimeter by centimeter.

“Bakashi,” Obito said slowly, not taking his eyes off Tori’s. He sounded like he could burst into maniacal laughter at any moment. “Who is this?”

“She’s… helping me,” Kakashi said, blandly. “ANBU Mantis is dead–”

Obito obviously didn’t give a shit about ANBU Mantis.

“Does she have a name?” Obito asked, borderline hysterical. HIs grin hadn’t slipped an inch.

“I’m Tori,” Tori said quickly. “Um, you’re– Konoha…?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Obito agreed, stepping up beside her to survey Mantis’s body. “Don’t worry, strange child I’ve never met before, my name is Uchiha Obito and I’m here to rescue you!”

Kakashi twitched.

“Ah, so this is…” Obito started, raising his face to meet Kakashi’s.

“He was my teammate,” Kakashi stressed, voice cracking. “Keep it together, Obito.”

“Right, right,” Obito said. “Uuuuh, what are we doing with him…?”

Obito was still an asshole, but he helped them find the queen without complaint. Once it was safely in a test tube and Tori had stored the body in a black scroll, Kakashi outright sagged into Obito’s side. Obito’s face turned downright smug as he supported him.

“Can I pass out now?” Kakashi asked. “Or are you going to make me get us out of here myself?”

Obito snorted. “Pass out if you need to, Bakashi. I’ll only make fun of you for a couple weeks this time.”

“Asshole,” Kakashi muttered, and then indeed passed out.

“Um,” Tori said, watching as Obito flipped Kakashi over into a fireman’s carry. “So, I, uh.”

“Are you a fucking ninja now?” Obito asked, and then laughed so hard he nearly dropped Kakashi.

Outside, there was another explosion, followed by some screams. Deidara was getting closer. Would it be better for Deidara to meet Obito, or would it be better to delay this inevitability…?

“Wait, so you stayed in Konoha?” Tori asked. The Fourth was still alive. Clearly Obito had made some alternative decisions.

“Mm-hm,” Obito answered, eyes glinting. “I didn’t realize you could be reincarnated, Tori-chan. Where were you hiding?”

“Otogakure, obviously,” Tori replied, and confusion flashed briefly in Obito’s eyes.

“Man,” he said. “Guess I should have been keeping better tabs on Orochimaru… hey, you should come back with me to Konoha. Way better than Oto.”

“I think I’ll pass,” Tori replied. “I don’t really want to stay in the ninja game.”

“Come oooon,” Obito whined. “It’ll be like old times!”

“Exactly,” Tori said.

“But it’d be hilarious,” Obito pressed. “You’ll give Itachi so much anxiety.”

“Is Itachi–” Tori started, but then there was an explosion directly outside their room. Welp. She guessed Deidara and Obito were meeting whether she wanted to or not. “I’ve been hanging out with Deidara.”

“No way,” Obito exhaled, suddenly outright giddy. He was across the room and pushing open the flat in half a second. “DEIDARA-SEMPAI~!”

A lot of screaming followed. Several Kusa-nin died in the process. Tori followed Obito out to find him sitting on Deidara, Kakashi still limp over his shoulders.

“You’re both so cute,” Obito cooed. “Hey, watch Bakashi while I go burn down Kusa, would you?”

“NO,” Deidara protested immediately. “GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME, YEAH!”

“Do you want to help?” Obito asked, comically serious as he stared down at Deidara. “I do have to kill everyone for touching my teammate, but I’m not picky about how it gets done.”

Oh good, he’s still insane, Tori thought.

“Did your Hokage order that?” Tori asked out loud. Surely Minato wasn’t just letting Obito be all… all… Obito-y.

Obito looked up at her, face frank. “Obviously not,” he said. “But… eh, it’s Kakashi. He probably secretly wants me to.”

Oh my god, Tori thought. How did anyone survive the Third War?

How much did she actually care about Obito not slaughtering a whole village? She could probably pitch a fit and make him stop, or she could otherwise distract him, but it would be a lot of work, and also it would be… humiliating.

“There’s an Uzumaki family here,” she said instead. “You should probably, like, not murder them.”

Obito cocked his head to the side. “How do you know?”

“They were here… before,” Tori said slowly. “And Kusa used Uzushio seals on us, so they’re probably here again.”

“Neat,” Obito said, hopping to his feet like Kakashi weighed nothing. Deidara immediately rolled over and aimed a kick at his ass, which made Obito yelp but not even stumble.

“Okay,” Obito said. “Redheads off limits, then.” His eyes shifted back into the mangekyou. “But I’m still burning down the village. Hold Kakashi, would you?”

He dumped Kakashi’s unconscious body on her, knocking Tori right off her feet. Tori wanted to protest that she was in no position to defend anyone from anything, but by the time she’d rolled Kakashi off of her, everyone else in the tent was dead. It was eerily silent.

Deidara shoved her shoulder. “Hurry up and take this seal off, yeah,” he said. “I want to blow up the village first.”

How is this my life? Tori wondered, even as she searched her weapons pack for one of the scalpels she’d stolen.

#my writing #reborn au #reborn au au: it's gotten sillier

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heyidkyay · 2 years ago

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Who can say no to bridezilla? |

Part one

I had to write another after seeing the love the last one got, thank you btw! I've actually missed writing a fair bit so I'm glad you enjoyed it.

> With this one, I started and just couldn't stop, so I might make it into a couple of parts? Maybe? Idk, let me know if that's something anyone would want:)

Summary: With no date to your sister's wedding, what are you to do? No worries though, she's already got it covered, well, sort of...

Masterlist

"It's just annoying. I mean- don't get me wrong, I'm proper chuffed you're finally tying the knot and all, but it's just a shitty situation.” I huffed defeatedly as I leant up against the cabinet, watching as a grey sky crept by my kitchen window.

“I know,” I heard my sister sigh, her voice soft even through the phone’s tinny speaker. “And I’m sorry, but you know what mum’s like, y/n/n. She’ll be devastated when she finds out you’re coming alone! That, and the fact that if you don’t end up bringing a plus one, all of my wedding photos will turn out uneven… And I really, really need this day to be perfect! I want you to think its perfect! To enjoy it! Not just be sat there on the sidelines, watching.”

I closed my eyes for a long moment as I ran a hand through my hair. It was in dire need of a good wash, but between my job and the stress of having recently moved, I hadn’t found the time to even sit down. Still, I could understand where my sister was coming from, and I really wanted her to have the picture perfect day she’d always dreamt of too. But, we both knew that she was laying it on thick now, and with me being the eldest, we both also knew I’d do just about anything to make her happy. This though, was a big ask.

“Listen, yes things ended badly between Alex and I, but now that it’s all finally over, I just don’t think I have it in me to try and force myself to find someone else to replace him. Not yet, anyway.”

Alex, being my most recent ex. We’d parted ways about three months ago now- though ‘parted’ definitely wasn’t the term I preferred to use. But how else was I supposed to describe him cheating and me having to walk in on it happening? With my best mate of all people, too.

Yeah, that hadn’t been the easiest of transitions, especially since I’d also been flat-sharing with the pair of them.

But my sister knew all of this already.

“Mum will just have to worry about me being lonely a little longer, y/s/n, and I'll just have to prepare myself to deal with her constant fussing over me for the entire evening.” I attempted to cajole, not wanting to outright deny her. “As well as the rest of my life, I suppose.” I added unhelpfully under my breath.

It wasn’t that I didn’t love my mum, God, she was just about the only person who truly understood me. That, and she’d done absolutely everything within her power to make sure that her kids had gotten everything she'd never had. She was an utter saint. But saying that, she could also tend to be a tad bit… overbearing.

“Ah come on, she won’t be that bad!” My sister fired back before she then paused, as though she’d only just understood the words she’d spoken. I couldn’t not let out an airy chuckle when she sighed, “Alright, fair enough, she will be. But! If you just ask someone along, you won’t have to spend my entire wedding day avoiding her!”

I groaned, rubbing at my face.

“It’s been months since I ended things with Al- mum knows that, babe. I’ve had her on the phone almost every day since, hassling and FaceTiming me constantly to make sure I’m still alive. She even sends down little care packages in the post! Care. Packages. Y/s/n.”

I actually looked over towards the most recent arrival which had awoken me early the previous morning. It was still where I’d left it, chucked beside the foot of the sofa, barely opened.

Again, I adored the woman, but she tended to be a fair bit dramatic. I could really see where my sister got it all from.

“Besides, how am I supposed to convince her I'm perfectly fine with someone I've only just met hanging off my arm?” I added, puttering on over to the sink to fill the kettle. I think I could feel another migraine coming on.

“I get it, y/n, I do. And I’m also sorry for suggesting it, but if I knew of an easier solution that would magically solve all our problems, then I would. But I don’t, and even though I want the biggest day of my life to go perfectly, I also want you happy.”

I could hear the sincerity in her voice and as I picked up my mug and tossed a teabag inside, I could also picture her sat at the dinning table back home, foot anxiously tapping away in an attempt to conjure up a better idea. She was a nitpicker, right down to the very bone, and I could only guess the amount of stress she was putting herself under in order to make sure that her wedding went off without a hitch for all those involved.

After a few moments of shared silence, she spoke again, “To be honest, I can’t believe you stuck around as long as you did.”

My mind wandered back to all the time I’d wasted on Alex. We’d met growing up, he’d been our next door neighbour. We went through all of primary school despising one another, only to end up in the same friendship group come secondary. It didn’t take much more than that for us to suddenly become joined at the hip. He’d been my best mate, and when we finally got together, I’d pictured the rest of our lives spent with one another.

He’d honestly really fucked me over in the end. I hadn’t just lost my boyfriend that day, but both of my closest friends, as well as a few others who’d taken his side in the awkward aftermath that came when most relationships ended. But that being said, I felt more at peace now than I had in a long while. With every relationship came troubles, and by the end of ours, I guessed we had more than most. That wasn’t me making excuses for him though- nah, he was still a massive prick.

“Yeah, me either.” I admitted, a breathy chuckle slipping from my lips as I softly shook away the rest of my thoughts.

“I am proud of you though, for moving on as well as you have. Always knew he was an arse.” Came my sister’s voice and I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me.

I grinned, so very thankful for her.

“God, was he!” I agreed instantly, listening to her giggle as I laughed, “A right tit.”

“Oh!”

I blinked at the sudden exclamation heard from down the phone and furrowed my brow slightly as the last of my laughter tittered out, “You alright there?”

“Uh, yes! I’ve just had the most perfect idea!” My sister declared, not even giving me the chance to question her before she was off on a tangent. “Forget about having to chat anyone up, or having some godawful colleague of yours to pose as a fake date- I’ve already got the perfect person for you!”

I felt my mouth part slightly in confusion and was just about to speak up when she beat me to the punch, seemingly excited about whatever plan she’d formulated in her head.

“Right, okay, just listen. I know this guy, a friend of Adam’s, yeah? He’s been off of relationships for a little while now, not really looking for anything at the moment ‘cause he’s been away for a bit. Busy, and what not. But y/n, he’s a right charmer, proper looker, too! He also happens to owe Ad a big favour!”

I closed my eyes for a moment, frowning. “What are you getting at here, y/s/n?”

The huff that sounded then, all but echoed in my ear and I couldn’t not roll my eyes at her dramatics.

“He can be your date, y/n! I know he’d be well up for helping us out if I give him free-rein to do what he pleases, always up for a laugh, and he'll be able to keep mum off your back about finding someone new. Plus, I can guarantee you a good time because I just know that the two of you will instantly hit it off.”

“What?” I squawk, far beyond perplexed. “You can’t just ask some randomer to pretend to be my date to your wedding, y/s/n! Are you actually insane?”

“He’s not some randomer though! I know him through Adam, and Adam’s known him since school!” My sister pestered, and I could practically feel her excitement bubbling up from down the phone. “He’s well lovely, nothing like He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named— Plus! When we were first introduced, I’d had the thought of setting him up with you, but well, you know, you were still with What’s-his-face and you seemed happy enough.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, to be frank. And went to say as much, when she cut me off again.

“Come on, y/n/n! It’ll be so great! And besides, who would it hurt? You’re both single, not looking for any sort of commitment, and both without dates to my wedding. Mum’ll be over the moon about it, too, once I let her know! And this way, I won’t have to fork out God knows how much on another two plus ones.”

“I’m really not sure about- hang on, he’s already going?” I questioned, confusedly.

“He’s Adam’s best mate, of course he’s coming!”

“I thought Ad’s best mate was George?”

Her eye roll was implied when she retorted. “You can have more than one best mate, y/n. Look, you worry too much. I’ll have Ad phone him now and ask, yeah? If he agrees, I’ll get him to message you.” I was still beyond fucking baffled and could hear the obvious delight which lined my sister’s tone. “That settles it, I’ll do it right now. So talk to you later, yeah? God, I'm so excited! Love you lots!”

Then she was gone.

I let the phone fall away from my ear and stared down at the blank screen with vacant eyes.

What the fuck.

“What the actual fuck?” I found myself asking my empty flat aloud. I rubbed at my forehead tiredly before I ultimately tossed the device onto the pile of cushions perched on the nearest armchair, leaving it there to hopefully die, or something.

Didn’t quite turn out that way though. I ended up fishing it out about an hour later when I’d started running a bath, needing it for it’s musical capabilities.

It was then, after the tub had filled and I’d slipped into its mountain of bubbles, that a notification disturbed the perfect playlist I’d curated.

I grumbled as I pulled myself up and out of the water.

It was a text from an unknown number, I frowned as I unlocked the device.

“Oh, for fucks sake!”

I hadn’t actually believed that she would do it. Ask someone to be her sister’s fake date to her own wedding! But I really, really, really should’ve known better.

And so I tossed the phone back on the side, submerging my body in its entirety back under the soapy water in hopes that I might just drown. She was so dead.

—

Maybe I’d been a tad bit hasty in scheduling the perfectly timed event of my sister’s impending death.

Listen, I could admit when I was being a total drama queen, but my sister had well and truly pushed her luck this time around, and so I’d been quick in my judgement of the situation. Perhaps a little too quick.

Several weeks had passed since that day and in the time leading up to my sister’s wedding, I had spent a good portion of it texting Matty back and forth.

That was his name, by the way- the poor bloke my sister had roped into accompanying me on her big day. And if I was being honest, I was rather grateful for the fact that she’d chosen to stick her big nose in where it wasn’t wanted and set the whole thing up. Though, I might have been better inclined to admit so if she’d been a whole lot more normal and just introduced the two of us in a much more conventional way.

When Matty had texted me that first night- rather delighted by the fact that he’d been gifted the privilege of a front row ticket to the shit-show I was still calling my life- I’d been dreading the entire thing.

He had taken the utter piss out of me in all truth, and had then proceeded to rinse the shit out of the entire situation for all it was worth. But, strangely enough, he’d done so in the very best way.

I can honestly admit that I don’t think I’ve ever laughed as hard as I have than when I’m messaging Matty. He was everything my sister had described and more.

He knew how to have a good laugh, when to flirt or to tease, and he was pretty open about the things that mattered most to him once you’d bartered your way past that overzealous ego of his. He also appeared to love music almost as much as me, which was honestly saying something. And he spoke highly of his family and friends, in length too when they had come up here and there in conversation.

I really hadn’t expected to have grown so close to him in the time we’d spent texting back and forth, but there was just something about him, in his nature maybe, that just made things feel so easy.

It was so, so strange, because I hadn’t even seen a picture of the bloke, and I’d only ever heard a few short snippets of his voice through the odd voicenote we'd shared here and there, but I’d openly call him a close friend to any one who now asked. It was as though we’d known each other for years.

And I really wasn’t one to let many people in, I liked the small family I had created for myself, one full of friends I’d known for eons, and relatives that meant the world to me. So to have Matty slip by all of my defences so effortlessly, was something I thought a lot about.

“Oi,” Jamie suddenly prompted with a bright grin, a jabbing finger to my side untangled me from my thoughts. "You ready for the big day?

I’d been stood a little way a way from the chapel’s entrance, waiting for everyone else to arrive, and was seemingly a little lost in my own head. Apprehensive, maybe. Jamie had startled me slightly as I’d not even heard his approach, but I allowed myself to relax somewhat as I gave him the once over.

“Just about.” I replied with a teasing smile, “Clean up nice, Jim. Loving the suit.”

Jamie was my cousin, but we were so close in age I practically saw him as another brother. We’d grown up together, which also meant that he’d been close with Alex too.

Though, he’d actually been one of the few people who had taken my side after everything that happened, even with the two boys having been rather close since they were kids. I was glad to still have him, so glad, even if it did mean that I still felt a little guilty about the whole thing from time to time.

“Don’t look too surprised.” Jamie laughed at my light jab as he pulled me in for a short hug. “Though, you are looking good too, I suppose.”

I swatted at his shoulder when we parted. “Don’t be a twat, you know I’m the best dressed here.”

“Oh yeah…” He dragged out sarcastically, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Definitely ready to upstage the bride.”

I just rolled my eyes as I laughed. “Where is bridezilla anyway?”

“Just saw her with your mum, actually. They were fussing about something or other, but I reckon they ended up sorting it out.” Jamie replied with a small shrug as he pulled on his lapels.

I let my eyes roam around the surrounding area again for a brief moment as he did, skirting over the mass of maple trees, which were now in full bloom, and the familiar faces that crowded the gravel drive.

“Exactly why I can never see myself going through with any of this.” I commented offhandedly, too preoccupied with the anxiety of finally meeting my so called date.

My gaze found Jamie’s again when he wearily voiced, “What- even when you were with…?” His voice held a hint of genuine curiosity.

I shrugged, in truth, I’d never really given it much thought, my wedding day. Even after having been with Alex all that time. I could just never see it happening for myself.

“Not really.” I said, “How about you though? Can you picture yourself all kitted out and waiting at the end of that aisle?”

Jamie laughed, his eyes squinted. “Not too sure about that. I mean I like the sound of it, spending forever with someone and all, but I dunno who’d be brave enough to have me.”

I snorted as I clapped my cousin’s shoulder in condolence. “They’d have to be a tad bit mental, Jim. But they’d also be fucking lucky too. You’re a gooden.”

“Love you.” Jamie smiled as he enveloped me in another hug. He was a lot taller than me now so he all but squished me into his side, but I couldn’t bring myself to mind even as I jokingly shoved him away.

“Stop, you’ll ruin my hair and makeup.” I scolded lightly, wrinkling my nose.

Jamie just chuckled, “Since when have you cared about any of that crap?”

“Never.” I grinned back at him in retort, “Just didn’t want you sliming all over me, snail-face.”

“You’re a right fucking weirdo, you know that?”

“I do, Jim, I do.”

I fixed the side of my dress whilst my cousin just rolled his eyes, seemingly content with waiting beside me now.

When I’d made sure that I was still somewhat presentable, mostly for both my mother and sister’s sake, I allowed myself to reevaluate the rest of the oncoming arrivers. Still no sign of that date of mine.

I sighed quietly, checking the time on my phone again to make sure I hadn’t missed a text.

“You all good there?” Jamie questioned quietly after a few minutes, I looked up to find him staring down at me with a concerned frown.

I hummed, “Fine, why?”

“Just seem a bit nervous, not like you that.”

I huffed a light laugh before shooting my cousin a somewhat strained smile. “Yeah, maybe a bit. It’s just I’m waiting for my date to arrive and-”

As I uttered that sentence Jamie’s eyes all but boggled out of his head, “You never said nowt about a date!”

I gave him a sheepish grin, I hadn’t really mentioned Matty to anyone. Only having allowed my sister to pass on the message that I wasn’t turning up completely alone to my mum. I’d not given much thought to anyone else’s reaction.

“Um, yeah.” I replied, feeling a little uncomfortable upon having to mentally decide whether I should let Jamie in on the truth or not. The kid had always been a massive blabbermouth though, he just couldn’t seem to help it, but I knew he’d understand wholeheartedly. “It's new, but it’s going good…”

Jamie’s smile was wide enough that I could practically see either side of his molars, a megawatt sort of thing.

Immediately I felt my stomach churn. There was that guilt again.

“I’m well chuffed for you, y/n/n! Can’t wait to meet the lucky fella- when’s he set to get here? Didn’t you come together? Where’d you even meet him, anyhow? Does y/s/n know you’re bringing him along?”

Fucking hell, what was with the twenty-one questions?

I swallowed thickly. I hadn’t realise how hard this was all going to be. Was the rest of the day going to be like this? All consuming guilt?

“Er, should be here soon enough, I think.” I found myself saying, playing with one of the rings on my left hand. “Something came up last minute- his mum needed him. Urgent, you know how it is… and he’s a right mummy’s boy that one! So I suggested he just meet me here, and well, he was grateful. Felt really bad though. Promised he wouldn’t be late and all that.”

Jamie seemed to be eating it up and just kept nodding along, making me feel as though I had to continue on.

“We actually met through y/s/n, weirdly enough. She introduced us when I’d popped round to surprise her a while back. He’s close with Adam, best mates and that. We just hit it off I guess.”

I silently cursed myself and my ability to not know when to stop. fucking. rambling. But I was too nervous to think up a believable enough lie and so I’d decided to just tangent off from the truth. It was close enough, I figured.

“Awh, I’m so happy for you, cuz. Congrats!” Jamie said, obviously thrilled for me, as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder and squeezed. “Know why you’re so wound up now, your mum will be on your case all night!”

We shared a laugh. Because wasn’t that the fucking truth.

I tried my hardest to hide my slight grimace though as I allowed my cousin to congratulate me. During a few shared conversations with Matty, we had thought up a convincing enough plan, but now that it was time to put it all into action I wasn’t sure we’d actually be able to pull it off. Especially with the reminder that we’d be lying to my mum of all people.

“Oh shit, there’s Laura! Best head on over.” Jamie suddenly announced, his eyes focused on a brunette in the distance, far enough that I had to squint to even make out who he was referring to.

But before I could comment or question Jamie’s twenty/twenty vision, my cousin was already bouncing on the balls of his feet, all but ready to run off.

He turned to me before he did though, squeezing my shoulder slightly. “Make sure you come find me with this date of yours, yeah? Gotta make sure he meets the mark.” I smiled, a little touched. “But I truly am buzzing for you, y/n. After everything, you deserve someone good.”

My chest ached and as my cousin gave me one final grin I couldn’t help but feel a little like the grinch, my heart had to have shrunk to half its size at the very thought of having just lied to Jamie.

I couldn’t linger too long on the regret I felt though as my phone buzzed in my hand. Immediately I peered down at it, chewing on my lower lip.

As the screen lit up, I frowned. What the fuck had I gotten myself into?

Matty had just messaged, but before I could even think up a reply I heard a few of the other guests around me start to whisper. I glanced up and over to where I then heard a muffled squeal. I pulled a face as I watched one of my younger cousins, Arielle who’d just turned fifteen, jump behind Jordan, her older brother.

I shook my head and pivoted slightly, eyes scanning over the rest of the guests who had yet to make their way into the chapel. A few of the women were openly staring down the gravel drive, gossiping amongst themselves, and I couldn’t not follow their gaze.

I was really confused, everyone’s attention seemed to be drawn towards the figure who was wandering closer. He was decent looking, I supposed, clad in a fitted tuxedo he'd paired with a black bowtie and an uncaring expression, but he was no James Dean. So I couldn’t quite get my head round why they were all so bothered.

As he grew nearer, I took in what I could. The dark narrowed eyes hidden beneath a pair of furrowed brows, the cropped cut of the hair he’d greased back, the handful of silver rings which cluttered his fingers. What caused me to pause though was the cigarette, which hung effortlessly from his bottom lip. Because, shit.

Instantly my focus moved back down to where my phone screen was now dimming and I quickly tapped at the home screen to view the last message I’d been sent.

Keep an eye out for the oncoming smoker, alright x

My heartbeat quickened, and my gaze flitted back and forth between the approaching figure and the text. Surely it couldn’t have been anyone else.

“Sweetheart?” A voice called out with a sure northern twang, erupting goosebumps up both of my arms. I glanced up.

Sure enough it was him, he’d been the only one to ever call me that.

My throat grew dry, “Fuck me.”

“Little early for that, I reckon. Heard about there being an open bar though, buy me a drink and we can talk again later, yeah?” The man ribbed, smirking as he plucked the fag from his lip. He drew closer and I was taken back a bit from how confident he appeared, almost identical to the way he seemed over the phone. But now in tenfold.

"God, sorry.” I laughed, covering my face with the back of my hand as I shook my head to try and cover my reddening cheeks. “Didn’t expect, well- this.” I added, only furthering my embarrassment by vaguely gesturing towards him.

Matty’s grin dimmed almost immediately then, and I frowned.

“Hang on, you are Matty, right? The same Matty I’ve been messaging for weeks. The guy who texts me at all hours of the night going on about how ripe a banana has to be before you can eat it… and who sends me little voice memos of theme tunes he’s rewritten so that they sound aesthetically more pleasing?”

The man looked confused for a moment, and his brown eyes surveyed me before he ultimately chuckled. I blinked at the sudden change in behaviour.

“Guess you could put it like that.” Matty laughed once more, this time a little more airily. And God, did I want to listen to it on repeat. I’d thought about it once or twice, what it would be like to hear him laugh, to listen to him talk. “Hope you weren’t half-expecting some model to come waltzing in here. I mean, I’m fit but I can only do so much, babe.”

It was said jokingly and though Matty was probably one of the most vainest people I’d had the pleasure of meeting, I also knew that there was some genuine apprehension in his eyes. Almost like he’d been both dreading and craving this moment as much as I had.

“Fuck off! Model.” I scoffed, and laughed alongside him as I shook my head. But then I peered around at the few who were still staring and was now suddenly hyperaware of them all. I didn’t really think too much about it as I stepped in closer to shield him somewhat. “Christ, Matty. Feels like you’ve just walked off an album cover or something, with the way you’ve got everyone leering at you.”

And wow. I watched in slight disbelief as Matty scratched at the back his neck with a small, almost bashful smile. I took note of the small hoop he had cuffed around his lobe.

“Piss off.” The man chuckled, finding his feet again as he realised the proximity we now held. “Reckon they’re all looking at you though.” He commented, looking me over with a sly smile. “Hann painted a good picture, but you’ve exceeded all expectations, darling.”

I couldn’t help but smirk, regaining my usual confidence. “Spent a lot of time thinking about me, have you Healy?”

Matty’s tongue darted out to wet his lower lip, his unlit cigarette dangling between his fingers in the small space that separated our bodies.

“You’d know all about that, babe. Your first words, if I do recall, were 'fuck me'. And though I’d be happy to comply with your reasonable request, I don’t think Adam, or your sister, would very much approve of me taking you in front of all these lovely people.”

I hummed mischievously, eyeing him. Yeah, this was my Matty alright.

“Can’t say I’ll come to regret those words.” Then, before Matty could even think up another retort, I wound my arm around his and started leading us in towards the chapel. “Best play the part, yeah?”

And I had to dampen my grin when I heard the man’s joyous laughter sound beside me. Ignoring all of the other onlookers to sneak a peak over at him, I found myself loving the squinted grin he made as he tucked his cigarette behind his ear.

This night would definitely be memorable.

Part two >

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your-local-hoemie · 1 year ago

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ꕥ Genshin Impact ꕥ boyfriend headcanons, Inazuma edition~ part one.

This is a two part one cuz there’s a lot of characters and my brain only lets me write so many in one go >_<

I’m currently in the process of preparing to move in the next few months and hopefully starting a mortician apprenticeship so I’m exciteeddddd

Summary: Just head-canons about the Inazuma hotties :p

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, maybe a tiny bit suggestive, Gn!Reader, established relationship, not proof-read.

Characters: Heizou, Kazuha, Thoma.

Heizou~

Oh no. Suddenly I’m a criminal.

I sure hope no hot, flirty, pretty detectives come looking for me >:)

We all know how, um, Suggestive this man is.

He’s absolutely not subtle about his feelings towards you.

Always giving you little compliments followed by a wink.

He somehow manages to know exactly how to turn you into a giggling puddle within the first 20 minutes of hanging out.

Takes you on surprisingly? Very romantic dates!

His favourite is to bring you on a picnic under the Sakura’s or a quiet night with you both wrapped up in a blanket reading crime novels or cases he wants to share with you!

He doesn’t get jealous often.

Man has a EGO.

But on the rare occasion that he does, you can bet your ass that he’s going to be snarky as all fuck.

Not to you of course.

No no-

He’ll probably be overly clingy and flirty with you!

More than usual-

But the offending person will quickly get the idea that they’re on the receiving side of his wrath.

Might outright call them stupid hfkvjfod.

He’s into fishnets.

I’m sorry (I’m not) but he wears them too much for me to not believe this man would break the second he see’s you wearing them~

Also handcuffs ;)

I don’t think he’s the type to be overly protective of you.

Don’t get him wrong, he does worry!

He just know you’re capable of handling yourself in fights!

If you come back hurt, it’ll depend on the severity of how much he’ll worry.

If it’s just a few scrapes a bruises, he’ll likely patch you up while scolding you to be more careful!

“Man alive Y/N? *sigh* my occupation is ‘detective’ you know. Not doctor. Let’s try and keep it that way, hmm?”

But if it’s more serious then prepared to be babied hdhsjd

You won’t be allowed to do anything until he’s satisfied that you’ve recovered!

He’ll bring you the best food he can get his hands on in Inazuma along with cute plushies and will even work from your teapot instead of the office which makes him surprisingly more efficient-

If you ever get insecure about yourself then buckle up-

He’s prepared to give you his entire analysis on how he thinks you’re better than Celestia herself.

My guy has facts, evidence and probably a bulletin board to prove that to you!

He might be a little scared to say the special three words (aka “I love you”) at first but it doesn’t stay that way for long!

All it took was him seeing you, face first in a case file looking all disgruntled and frustrated with your nose scrunched up and his mouth spoke faster than what his brain could think.

He won’t say it all the time but he tells you at least once a day <333

He can’t bare the thought of you not knowing how much you mean to him, no matter how stubborn he is!

Kazuha~

I think I’ve made it obvious in my previous posts how pretty I think this boy is.

Like??????? Hello?????

God he would cHERISH YOU!!!

Definitely a little awkward at first but I head-canon that he’s actually really flirty!

He’s just super good at keeping it subtle enough that no one else notices shdufufuejjrifkAAAAAA

When he first started getting feelings for you Beidou referred to him as a literal love sick puppy.

He’s often sit on the end of the Crux (idk what ship parts are called) and write poems and haikus while looking up at the stars and blushing violently while thinking about you.

He definitely didn’t escape the crew’s teasing whenever he’d follow you around and seemed more giggly than usual!

Beidou was actually the one who got kinda tired of watching him run in circles so she set ya’ll up on a date without telling either of you-

Definitely said some cute poem when confessing!

“Like captured water, You hold me in your cupped hands. I flow on your palm.”

Haikus are confusing man wtf.

He definitely isn’t one for being kept in one place but it’s impossible not to notice how much longer he seems to stay around you!

And when feels the time is right for travelling again, he’ll often ask you to accompany him!

He’ll always bring you back a souvenir if you’re too busy to go with him!

Always tells you how it reminds him of you too!

Like he’ll bring back a red/pink sea shell and explain how the colour reminds him of when you blush or laugh so much your cheeks turn red.

He is protective of you but not overly.

He’ll voice his concerns about any dangerous commissions or quests you take on but if you’re insistent then instead of stopping you, he’ll accompany you!

He’s such a sweet, quiet boy so it comes to a big surprise the first time he protects you.

Actually raises his voice and shouts for you to get to safety (like when he shouted for that one dude to stop hiding)

Obviously he apologises after and explains he just wanted you to move so you didn’t get hurt :(

Completely random but I head-canon that he’s close to Yoimiya and every year for your birthday, he’ll bring you to Inazuma and take you to a really beautiful spot then set off fireworks that he planned with her!

And if you don’t like fireworks then he’ll still take you to a beautiful spot with a picnic and just watch the sunset with you~

Thoma~

Pretty boy, good boy.

House wife, even.

He doesn’t believe he deserves you :(

Reassure this boyo.

He fell head over heels from the very first moment!

Every time you talked he’d get so flustered and stutter on every other word hdjjddjd!

Ayaka obviously knew what was going on and you did as well!

The both of you made out a plan on how you would confess to him and when you did-

Oh boy-

He almost started crying ududieifjck

Hugged you so tight for like a solid 3 minutes!

Ever since then, he always picks a flower from the tea house where you both made it official and brings it home to you!!

He’s a good cook so you can bet your lucky ass that you’ll have breakfast in bed on his days off!!

He’d also help fix your clothes if they get ripped during fights!

Ayato would definitely find the situation amusing so don’t be surprised when thoma suddenly gets the day off~

He does get very easily flustered so pda would probably be kept to the minimum unless you want the poor boy melting into a blushing puddle.

He’s not overly protective of you but he does worry himself into a stupor!

Like he won’t stop you going out on commissions but the second he see’s a scratch or a bruise, it’s out with the first aid and a stern lesson on how to patch yourself up!

He’s even made a personal travel first aid bag for you!!

At night when you’re laying in bed, there’s absolutely nothing he loves more than telling you about his day or listen to your stories while you play with his hair!

You’ve both become somewhat unintentionally popular!

Not to mention the people who are just a tiiiiny bit jealous that you’re the lucky one and not them.

Which you totally don’t relish in, just a little~

He can’t help it!!

He just loves talking about you and how happy you make him! Obviously people are gonna talk about how cute y’all are :p

He’s banned you from playing the pot game.

No one really knows how but you managed to give everyone who played it a stomach ache for a solid week.

Boy also insisted on teaching you how to play chess!!

He totally hasn’t let you win a handful of times just because he couldn’t bare to see how sad you looked when you lost

he also just wanted the table to stay in one piece-

This man refuses to go to work or to bed without giving you a good morning or goodnight kiss!

He adores how cute you are when he reminds you that he loves you even if it’s in a simple gesture!!

Ya’ll, I haven’t slept for three days and the hat man is starting to morph into cyno.

Yes I’m totally fine :3

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voxasks · 7 months ago

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– G U I D E L I N E S .

⭑ BLOG INFO.

this is an independent roleplay ask blog (wow that’s a mouthful) .

i close my inbox when it gets to 30 asks so i can get through them quicker and reopen asks quicker.

vox has an editor (me) who manages half of the blog and writes out his responses to send out. vox knows he’s speaking with the living world but doesn’t know he’s in the show called ‘hazbin hotel.’

⭑ CRITICISM.

i answer a lot of asks in the day meaning i’ll likely make typos so do be kind if you spot them! i will only be taking constructive criticism into consideration. this blog is my very first shot at roleplaying so apologies if there are any issues!

⭑ PORTRAYAL.

vox will be portrayed as i see fit. he can be professional, compliant and even kind to asks that don’t provoke him. inversely, he can be crass, loud and outright evil to those who do, but please remember to separate me from the character.

⭑ ASK RULES.

NSFW is okay on my blog, seeing as vox is also quite open to the idea. excessively troll / low effort asks (e.g. i have had TONS of asks just saying ‘bald’) will be ignored as it does take time and energy out of me to tap into the character’s voice when i answer these.

this one’s specific and it is actually the reason i had to do a heavy update on my guidelines, but; i have had people come into my inbox saying they take pleasure in indulging in the following : dr*gs, m*rder, ab*se, s*icide, sh, and more along these lines. asks like these aren’t allowed unless you’re clearly joking or using it as an expression. however, merely mentioning these topics IS allowed. i understand some people will still not be comfortable seeing it being used as such, but as someone who’s had experience in the last three topics listed, i’m not easily fazed and do not wish to censor this blog too much. here are some examples of what i do not allow :

asks with harmful phrases such as ‘k*ll yourself’ will be deleted, same goes with other phrases of a similar vein.

if you are stickler for canon, in all technicality, vox probably wouldn’t condone asks like these either to keep him and his brand highly professional / lighthearted to put others at ease.

the rest is only the obvious : i will not condone homophobia and racism, and will not be entertaining asks over political views.

however, if you are suffering from s*icidal thoughts or sh and you cannot refrain from sending me an ask about it, please at the very least provide me a way to contact you in private so as to not trouble others viewing this blog.

⭑ RESPONSE TIME.

to those who have been here since the beginning, i am so sorry i am no longer able to get through asks as quickly. i have a real life as well as my main blog to attend to so you ask might take a while to get to! i should not take more than a week to get to your ask, but apologies if i still do.

⭑ ART.

any art on this blog (as scarce as it may be) is drawn by the editor, me. please do not repost without my permission!

⭑ OOC.

some of my personal thoughts or comments to your asks will be in the tags labelled as ‘ooc’. sometimes i may also make announcements on this blog without using vox’s voice so do take not of that!

⭑ WARNINGS.

as mentioned above, this blog may contain mentions of m*rder, ab*se (probably because of val asks) nsfw, manipulation, gore, body horror, immoral views, etc.

⭑ UPDATE LOG.

03.04.24 — more clear guidelines hehe

03.07.24 — inbox closes at 30 asks .

#i used hellishradio’s rules as a guideline hahaha #.voxasks nav

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shadamyheadcanons · 1 year ago

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It’s kinda cute to see that Bark has a canonical crush on Amy (in the newest comic if you haven’t seen). She’s such a magnet for the stoic, hardy, initially antagonistic types lol. How do you think Shadow would feel to know that Bark was crushing on Amy before anyone else?

In reference to this interaction in IDW’s recent comic for her 30th anniversary:

It was also made apparent in Sonic’s 30th anniversary comic:

Looks like IDW took a cue from Archie and re-canonized Amy’s tendency to get cold easily. Sonic never took the hint...

...but it’s free real estate for other Amy ships. A+.

The bigger question is why a polar bear needs a scarf in the first place. Maybe I’m not supposed to ask that.

Anyway, I wouldn’t say it’s 100% confirmed that it’s a crush. No one ever says it is. He might just think she’s a sweet little girl. Panels like these make it seem like he just thinks she’s a nice kid, like a little sister. You could easily substitute Knuckles in for Bark here:

Blushing is usually used to indicate a crush, but not always. It can also be used to show embarrassment. I personally think he’s just shy because he’s not used to being hugged and hearing things like this:

It’s not surprising that Bark has a soft spot for her. He’s very strong and hangs out with Fang’s group, so a lot of people assume the worst. On top of that, he’s nonverbal, so he can’t really argue against it. She’s the only one who gives him a chance off the bat.

It’s also more appropriate if it’s not romantic, given their implied age gap. I’m glad Sega removed the official ages, but even without exact numbers, I’d be very surprised if an official Sonic publication made an older teenager have a crush on a child. If they did, I think Shadow would hunt him down, lol. I have a headcanon about him going after Storm about it, but Storm actively makes himself a problem. Bark isn’t like that.

Even if a different stoic and quiet character developed a crush on Amy, though, I don’t think Shadow would be jealous. I usually imagine Shadow hiding his feelings for Amy, and this is the same situation. He doesn’t act on it. At most, I could see them exchanging a subtle nod of acknowledgement.

They’d just both have good taste. Shadow might have to get used to it, but after that, I doubt he would see a character like that as a “problem.”

Shadow also might just flat-out appreciate Bark. It’s always a relief to have someone else who makes her safety a priority. Even when Bark and Amy “fight,” he outright refuses to hurt her:

(In case anyone needs more evidence that blushing isn’t always romantic in this comic, Amy’s blushing right there in panel three. Something tells me she probably doesn’t see this as a romantic situation.)

And when they’re on the same team, he keeps an eye on her to make sure she doesn’t rush into danger and get out of her depth:

I made a post recently pointing out that Shadow might have helped Amy out in Cryptic Castle because he also notices she rushes into situations she can’t handle alone. She’s a danger magnet whose first ever appearance was getting kidnapped, and it was a long time before that stopped happening. We need more characters who’ll keep an eye on her. I can imagine Shadow and Bark pointing to situations like these and looking at each other as if to say, “Ah, so you’re the reason she made it to adulthood unscathed.” They’d see each other as allies, not competition.

#ask #Anonymous #not a headcanon #bark the polar bear #amy rose #meta analysis

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glitterrosesnzz · 1 year ago

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Swirl

after. MONTHS. i have finally completed this Wanderer fic everybody clap

word count: 5k

Of all the people that Aether had been expecting to see as a participant at the Interdarshan Championship, the Wanderer was not one of them.

The Hat Guy name was completely unexpected as well, and it had honestly taken everything in Aether’s power to not burst out laughing the instant that the other was introduced on stage by that name. The fact nobody else seemed to think of it as strange made Aether outright think he was hallucinating for a moment, but a simple glance at Paimon’s equally as confuzzled expression dismissed that idea.

After briefly talking to the other contestants, Aether tracked down the Wanderer to the side of the stage-

Turning the corner, he caught sight of the Wanderer ducking his head into his hand, once- twice- three times, his hat giving off a faint jingling sound with each movement. Aether raised an eyebrow, but was cut off by Paimon before he could even begin to form a sentence. He remained in silence, watching as Paimon and the Wanderer snarked at each other, taking his time to analyze the Wanderer’s appearance.

Nothing seemed… obviously wrong, but Aether just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was just ever so slightly… off. He just couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He… somehow looked slightly paler, maybe? Or maybe not, he was a puppet after all- could his skin even get paler?

Aether probably shouldn’t ask him that.

Learning that Nahida was the reason the Wanderer was in the Akademia, and was going by Hat Guy no less, wasn’t much of a surprise. Still, Aether took the small lull in conversation that followed to ask his more pressing question.

“Are… you doing alright?” He asked, slowly, rolling his eyes when, as expected, the Wanderer glared at him.

“Tsk, I’m doing fine. There’s no need to concern yourself over me- hey- hey! What are you doing!?!” The Wanderer hissed as he attempted to back up as Aether strode forwards, only for his back to end up hitting the boxes behind him, practically trapping him as Aether tilted his hat back slightly, and leaned down to lightly press their foreheads together. Aether hummed as the Wanderer went completely still- staring at the Traveler with something in between confusion and anger. Even Paimon was floating off to the side, silent in shock at Aether’s seemingly spontaneous movement.

“Checking you for a fever.” Aether quietly explained, as it was, Aether didn’t feel any heat- in fact, if he had to guess, he’d say that the Wanderer was running slightly colder than most people. “Something just felt… off. Figured you might be sick.”

“I don’t get sick.” The Wanderer huffed, “I’m not some kind of weak mortal, remember? Now get off me.”

The Wanderer forcibly shoved Aether back, Aether stumbling slightly with the motion, bumping his head against the Wanderer’s hat, knocking it further askew. With Aether out of the way, and his hat no longer shading his face, the Wanderer ended up getting hit in the eyes with a stray ray of sunshine. He let out a high pitched gasp- and Aether watched with slight concern as he turned to the side, stifling four sneezes into complete silence.

“Bless you.”

“Snf, unnecessary…” The Wanderer muttered under his breath, readjusting his hat so that the sunshine could no longer hit his face as he wiped his nose with the back of his hand- which had Paimon grimacing in disgust. Aether tilted his head to the side.

“Unnecessary since you were nearly a god, and are as close to blessed as can be, or…?” He trailed off, smirking a bit as the Wanderer re-centered his glare on him. “Either way, you might want to take things easy-”

“Enough idle chit-chat- you’re better off wasting your time with the other contestants.” The Wanderer interrupted, crossing his arms. He maintained his glare for a minute, before his expression shifted to a small, slightly evil looking smirk. “Someone’s about to get very unlucky, can you guess who?”

“Ugh, how is anyone meant to relax with you around?!” Paimon groaned, floating along beside Aether as he turned and walked away. “We’re going to need to keep an eye on this one…”

Aether couldn’t help but to agree, albeit, it was for a slightly different reason than Paimon thought. He still couldn’t help but feel like something was up with the Wanderer, and given that little… display he had given, Aether wasn’t going to drop this subject so soon- he hated to say it, but he genuinely was concerned for the other. There was a point to the fact that the Wanderer couldn’t get sick, he was a puppet afterall, he likely wasn’t susceptible to the same things that people were. But still, there was something off, and if it wasn’t a normal illness, then, well, what was it?

Past-enemy that he was, Aether still didn’t want the guy to end up passing out in the middle of a competition because of some mystery condition.

There was going to be a lot to keep an eye on during this competition, but it shouldn’t be too hard to pay a little bit extra attention to the Wanderer’s actions, would it?

Aether was just about ready to strangle the Wanderer.

He was astoundingly hard to keep track of. It had only been 20 minutes since the first round of the competition had started, and he had already lost track of the Wanderer’s position no less than 3 times. His only saving grace had been the trackers given to each participant to trace their movements during the game- and even then, it had taken him five minutes to find the Wanderer’s exact location again.

Mainly because he hadn’t expected the Wanderer to be sitting at a table in the corner of a cafe’s terrace.

Aether walked over to him with as much false-calm as he could muster. He’d left Paimon behind to keep an eye on the other contestants- someone needed to record the rest of the competition while Aether investigated the one participant who was not participating.

“What. Are you doing.” Aether deadpanned, coming to a stop in front of the table as the Wanderer lifted his head to acknowledge his presence.

“What does it look like?” He said, lifting his cup of tea to his lips to take a small sip. “You were the one who said something about me ‘taking it easy’, right? I’m just taking your advice. Not that it’s necessary, but it sure beats running around like a clown in a circus. I’m no clown.”

Aether let out a tired sigh, pulling out a chair to sit down across from him.

“Says the one going by the name ‘Hat Guy’. Why are you drinking tea anyways? It’s like, a million degrees outside right now- wouldn’t you be better off drinking something cold? They do make cold teas, you know.” Aether watched as the Wanderer stiffened almost imperceptibly at his question, something he wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been looking for anything to give an indication of what was up with the Wanderer. “Is your throat-”

“I’m fine.” The Wanderer hissed, setting his cup down on the table with an audible clack- Aether was concerned for a moment that the cup would actually crack from the force of it, but it thankfully seemed to be undamaged. The Wanderer leaned forwards, resting his elbow on the table, holding up his face with one hand. “Really, I don’t understand what in the world has you so concerned anyways-”

Aether reached across the table, and snapped his fingers in front of the Wanderer’s face, summoning a small flash of light with the motion. It wasn’t an ability he used often, his few remaining powers from before landing in Teyvat reduced to nothing more than small, harmless sparkles and flashes, but in this case it served it’s needed purpose.

The Wanderer’s face twisted in a way that Aether was starting to rather easily recognize, as he leaned back and away from the table.

“Oh- fu-hH... fuck y-hIHH-” The Wanderer’s head snapped forwards into three completely silent stifled sneezes, followed by another short, hitching gasp, the final stifle escaping his forced silence into something more vocal. “Hh’nNxti!”

“That, is why I’m concerned.” Aether said, “I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen you sneeze before.”

“What, so I’m not allowed to sneeze now?” The Wanderer leaned forwards again, gripping the edge of his hat with his hand- possibly to be ready to shade his eyes from any future flashes of light. “I didn’t take you to be so controlling, Traveler.”

“No, no, it’s not that.” Aether rolled his eyes. “Of course you can sneeze, you’re clearly photic after all-”

“I am not-” The Wanderer paused- practically biting his own tongue as Aether held his hand out again, fingers poised to snap. He tugged the edge of his hat further down. “...So what?”

“I’m just saying, being photic doesn’t explain why you were sneezing even before me and Paimon started talking to you-”

“Paimon and I.”

“You have no right to try and ‘proper-grammar’ me right now. I expect that kind of stuff from Nahida, not you.”

The Wanderer’s only response to that was a cocky smirk as he picked his tea up again. Aether sighed.

“Don’t think you can distract me that easily. I know there is something up with you today.” He said, maintaining pointed eye-contact with the Wanderer.

“And I think that you’ve finally gone paranoid. Tell me, do I really frighten you that much?” The Wanderer said, laughing a little- cutting himself off with a barely restrained series of coughs that had Aether’s face switching from irritated back to concerned in an instant.

“I knew it. You’re sick.”

“I am not- Like I said earlier, I can’t get sick. …The tea just went down the wrong way.” The Wanderer avoided eye-contact, staring off to the side. They were both well aware that that excuse was complete bullshit- despite having picked his cup back up, the Wanderer had yet to sip any of his tea again, there had been no tea in his mouth to have gone the wrong way. Aether was about to call him out on it-

His communicator went off.

“Aether, you need to come see this!” Paimon’s voice rang out, and Aether let out a sigh.

“I’ll be right there.” He said, waiting for the click indicating that Paimon had hung up, pulling out the device to check the other contestant’s locations as he stood up before glancing back at the Wanderer. “Don’t think I’m going to drop this. We will be talking about this later. I’m not afraid to drag Nahida into this if I must.”

The Wanderer scoffed.

“Be my guest.”

It was only after the first round of the competition had wrapped up, that Aether realized that, with all the contestants' trackers turned off for the day, he no longer had any way of finding the Wanderer. He searched around the main stage- not surprised to find absolutely nothing, not even the slightest trace of the other.

The only other place he could think of to check was the Sanctuary, which meant, of course, getting Nahida involved. To be completely honest, Aether hadn’t truly planned to bring Nahida into this so early, he was kinda hoping that the Wanderer would cave in first, but there was no chance of that happening if he couldn’t even find him.

“...Nahida?” Aether called out, letting the doors of the Sanctuary softly close behind him. He stepped in, glancing around. There was nobody in the main room, which meant that Nahida- and the Wanderer, if he was here, were off in one of the side rooms. Sighing, Aether decided that he would check the library first- outside of the small garden that had been installed, the mini-library was the most common place where Nahida could be found.

He gently knocked on the door before entering, letting out a small sigh of relief upon hearing Nahida’s voice call out “Come in!”. Aether stepped into the room, taking a moment to take in the room before focusing on where Nahida was seated on top of a chair covered in pillows, multiple books open on the table in front of her.

“Oh- Traveler! I hadn’t been expecting you!” Nahida hopped down out of her chair, walking over to greet him. “I’d been kinda hoping that you were the Wanderer- he hasn’t come home yet.”

“He hasn’t?” Well, that got rid of the possibility of finding him here. “Do you… have any idea of where he could be?”

“Hmm…Nope! I can tell he’s in Sumeru, but his exact location is beyond me. …Why? Did something happen?”

“Well… There’s something just, a little off about him?” Aether tilted his head to the side, wondering how best to explain the vague feeling he had, before deciding to just settle on presenting his main theory to her. “I think he might have come down with something- like a cold.”

“That…shouldn’t be possible.” Nahida’s brows furrowed as she thought. “Being a puppet, he shouldn’t be able to get sick.”

“That’s what he said too…”

“But-” Nahida glanced up, like some kind of realization had just struck her. “I did think there was something a little off about him too, the last time I saw him. I just thought that I was imagining things.”

“Considering that I’m also sensing something off? Unless two people can have the same hallucination, something is definitely up.” Aether said, “When was the last time you saw him, by the way?”

“...About 2 days ago, actually.” Nahida hummed, glancing off to the side. “I didn’t think much of it- he’s spent a week in the forest without coming back before, but now that you also think there’s something up… Hm. Maybe I should try and find some way to check in on him…”

“I mean, he’ll… probably show up for tomorrow’s round of the competition, right?” Aether asked, “You could always come to see-”

“Ah- no. Unfortunately, I can’t go, there are some… other things I must take care of.” Nahida let out a forlorn sigh. “But… you’ll be there, won’t you, since you’re a commentator and all? You’ll continue to keep a close eye on him, right?”

“...Well, he can be rather hard to find sometimes, but… I’ll do my best, Nahida.”

Aether couldn’t help but feel worried when he couldn’t immediately spot the Wanderer at the competition’s main venue in the desert. What if something had happened to him- what if he’d passed out in the woods somewhere?

He had informed Paimon of his suspicions about the Wanderer’s condition last night, so he wasn’t all that surprised when she shot up into the air to get a better vantage point to look around, only to sink back down to float beside him with a small shake of her head. No luck on that front then.

There was a small beep from their devices as the second round of the competition began, and Aether quickly flipped to the section displaying the trackers on the participants.

The Wanderer’s title of “Hat Guy” flickered on the screen.

Huh. So he was in the desert- within the competition grounds even, just like everyone else.

Why hadn’t he been at the venue, then?

Highly suspicious (and also worried), Aether decided to check in on him, first.

…Only to be severely side-tracked by stumbling upon a half-passed out Tighnari.

He’d been just about to run back to the main venue, for both water and possibly a medic team- when he very nearly ran into the guy he had been initially searching for. The Wanderer looked no different than he had the day prior, but something was setting off even more alarm bells in the Traveler’s mind then there’d been yesterday.

“Here- give him this.” The Wanderer held out a completely full water bottle- but that was not the first thing that Aether took note of.

“Your voice is… a lot rougher today.” He noted, “Is your throat okay?”

“I’m fine.” Somehow, this sentence sounded weaker than it had the day before. “My voice is the same as always, the stress of the competition is just making your poor little mortal body hear things. That’s not important though- just give him this.”

The water bottle was practically shoved into Aether’s hands. Paimon clicked her tongue.

“Are you sure it’s okay to give Tighnari this? What if you’re contagious?” She asked. Aether had to admit, it was a good point. Whatever was up with the Wanderer, he didn’t want to be giving it to Tighnari. The Wanderer tsked.

“I’m not contagious, I don’t even get si-....sick…” He trailed off, a dazed expression on his face- and Aether knew instantly what was about to happen. There was a brief silence- the Wanderer’s face twisting as he seemed to be trying to resist the inevitable, before his eyes fluttered shut with a hitching breath. “Hihh…hIH- hEH’xNtiu! Hh- hH’nxt! HN’xTii! Heh- hiH’IsHKiu!”

It seemed he wasn’t capable of stifling into silence anymore- not to mention the one that had completely gotten away from him at the end, complete with a small gust of anemo that surged forth- shockingly cold, for a desert wind. Aether barely suppressed a shiver.

The Wanderer, for his part, recovered fast, straightening himself back up and readjusting his hat as he sniffled.

“Not sick, huh?” Paimon said, prompting a glare.

“...I just got some sand up my nose, that’s all.” Okay, his voice definitely sounded a bit hoarser than before, there was no way the Traveler was imagining that. “...I didn’t even drink out of the bottle though, if you’re going to be that paranoid about it. Barely even touched it outside of handing it to you just now.”

Aether… supposed he could believe that- not the sand part, there was no way that was true, but the water bottle being fine was probably true- and speaking of which, how on Teyvat had he completely forgotten about the half-passed out person behind him-

He only took his gaze off of the Wanderer for a mere second, but by the time Cyno arrived, and the Traveler finally felt like he had a moment to turn around… He was gone. Again.

As Cyno helped Tighnari to his feet, Aether flicked open his device- thankfully, it seemed like the Wanderer hadn’t left the area, as his name was still flickering on the screen. Still though- possibly sick-and-in-denial puppet or not, Tighnari currently took priority- Aether could only hope that the Wanderer didn’t vanish into nowhere again while he was helping Tighnari back to the venue.

…Except he did.

Sure enough, after making sure Tighnari was safe and sound, Aether opened his device again- only to find that ‘Hat Guy’ had seemingly vanished. A brief round of asking around revealed that he had also withdrawn from today’s competition- but that didn’t ease Aether’s worries in the slightest.

The Wanderer could’ve gone anywhere. He could be fighting in the forest, or walking through the desert- and he could collapse out there, and no-one would be any the wiser.

Hearing that the Wanderer had fought some guys, before vanishing again, was at the same time both relieving and concerning. At the very least, whatever was going on with him, he didn’t end up passing out mid-battle.

Kaveh took up most of Aether’s attention shortly after, however- he did make note that the Wanderer seemed a lot more quiet than usual.

This was doubly affirmed when Nahida showed up- the Wanderer in tow… and every single response the Wanderer gave was in nothing but a whisper.

It seemed like, for some reason, he expected that none of them would notice.

One shared look with Nahida and Paimon confirmed that all three of them did, in fact, notice.

“Alright, Mister.” Nahida put her hands on her hips, looking up at the Wanderer with a serious expression on her face. “Now that all the other stuff is out of the way- what’s up with you? And don’t think you’re going to get out of this by just vanishing like you did last night.”

Nahida had found the Wanderer last night? Huh. Looks like there’d been some interactions Aether had missed out on.

“Heh, and what do you plan on doing about it?” Wanderer whispered- leaning down slightly with a smirk on his face- how he could act so confident when something was clearly wrong, Aether had no idea. “You can’t keep me here.”

Nahida’s eyes flashed with green light.

Without any other pre-warning, vines sprung out of the ground, wrapping tightly around the Wanderer’s ankles. The Wanderer let out a curse- his voice breaking halfway through in a way that sounded outright painful, as he immediately tried to fly up out of the vine’s grip.

Only to be pulled right back down to the ground- with enough force to make his hat fall off. Aether reached out and caught it before it could hit the ground, but-

“HN’xTii!” There was no pre-warning as the Wanderer snapped forwards with a sneeze, only just barely stifling it into his hand. Aether had only a second to realize that it must’ve been in response to the sun, before the Wanderer was sneezing again, thrown into a small fit. “HH-hH’nXtiu! hEH’xNtiu!! HihH-hH’NXt!!”

“You know stifling isn’t good for you, right?” Nahida commented, even as a stray gust of cold wind made her shiver. Aether had to agree- those stifles had sounded desperate and almost painful. The Wanderer didn’t respond, one hand hovering over his nose, as though he wasn’t sure whether or not he was going to sneeze again, while his other hand went up to shield his eyes from the sun by covering them entirely.

“...Give me my hat back.” He eventually sniffled, and he sounded so terrible that Aether genuinely considered giving in for a second.

But only for a second.

“No. Not until you tell us what’s going on.” Aether said, crossing his arms, the hat in his grip jingling as he did so. “Nahida confirmed that you shouldn’t be able to get sick, so don’t even try that argument again, we’ve already been over it. But, there’s clearly something wrong, and we’re not going to let you leave until you tell us what it is.”

The Wanderer, still gave no response, instead standing there silently, vines wrapped around his ankles and hand over his eyes.

After another minute of a silent stand off, Nahida gave a tired sigh.

“Well… we did give you ample time…” She muttered, “Paimon, could you come here for a moment? I need your help with something.”

Wanderer’s whisper of “what do you think you’re planning?” was outright ignored by all three of them, as Nahida brought her hands together, summoning a small flower- considering Aether couldn’t immediately recognize it, it was likely one native to Sumeru. Nahida carefully crushed it up, until it was nothing more than petals and pollen in her hands.

With nothing more than a short and simple telepathic message, she dumped the pile into Paimon’s waiting hands, and Paimon was off on her little mission. Slowly, being careful not to make any sound, she floated up, until she was above the Wanderer’s head-

And then she dropped the pile of petals directly on top of him.

“Wha-” The Wanderer’s breathy exclamation of confusion was cut off as his breath instantly caught on a hitch. “Hehh-hiIH- hiH’IsHKiu!!! Hh’shKiu! Hih-heH’inKshiu!!”

The sudden gust of ice cold wind blew the petals and pollen away, and both Paimon and Nahida found themselves fleeing to hide behind Aether’s back to escape the biting cold that came with it. Aether noted, faintly, that the lines on the Wanderer’s body were glowing an icy blue, instead of their usual anemo teal- and that, when the Wanderer’s eyes cracked open with small tears, they were glowing the same colour.

“B-Bu’er, wh-hh…why would y-you…Hh…” The sunlight landed directly in the Wanderer’s eyes, and he ducked his head, clearly fighting against another fit, if the tense way he was holding his shoulders was any indication. Was he holding his breath? Aether was pretty sure he was.

Finally taking slight pity on him, Aether walked forwards and gently placed the Wanderer’s hat back onto his head. The Wanderer’s hands immediately went up to pull the brim of the hat down, shielding his face from any more beams of light.

“Uh, where did the ice come from?” Paimon questioned, and Aether turned to look at her in confusion, before following her eyes down and- yep, sure enough, that was ice on the ground. In the desert. In the middle of the day. Yeah. Okay.

“Wanderer?” Nahida slowly moved forwards, still shivering a little, clearly unused to being exposed to any kind of colder temperature. “This is extremely abnormal. You have to tell us what’s going on.”

The Wanderer shook his head, still looking down, shoulders tense. Aether leaned down to Nahida and whispered to her conspiratorially;

“I think he’s holding his breath so that he doesn’t sneeze again.” Considering for a moment, he then added on, “Probably embarrassed by the fact he sounds like a kitten-”

“I do no-hH-hIH’ksh!! H’nXti!! Hh’NxTiu!!! N’xTt!! Heh-hHiKshiu!!!” The Wanderer’s protest was cut off by yet another kittenish fit- as well as another gust of ice cold air, his hat getting knocked slightly askew. Aether watched in slight fascination as the patch of ice on the desert floor grew slightly wider. Fit finished, the Wanderer gasped slightly for breath. Nahida, despite shivering, walked forwards, grabbing one of his hands and pulling him down slightly so that she could fix him fully with her expression of concern.

“Wanderer. Please.” She said, “Tell us what’s wrong.”

Silence.

And then the Wanderer tsked, pulling his hands out of Nahida’s grip, readjusting his hat again.

“You’re all worried over nothing.” He hissed, “I just… got hit by a Fatui member's attack. Ice shot, y’know.”

“That’s not nothing!” Nahida gasped, “Are you hurt?!”

“Of course not!” The Wanderer’s voice broke again, and he coughed, before continuing. “I’m fine. It’s just… a little elemental residue. It’ll go away in a bit.”

“It doesn’t seem to be going away.” Aether noted, ignoring the glare the Wanderer shot at him. “In fact, you’ve seemed to be getting worse.”

Nahida snapped her fingers, before pointing at the Wanderer accusingly.

“I told you stifling was bad for you!” She said, “You’re just keeping the remaining elemental energy inside of you!”

The Wanderer tsked again- not confirming but also very obviously not denying her observation. Nahida put her hands on her hips, staring up at the Wanderer with an unimpressed expression.

“So, then… how do we fix this?” Paimon asked. Nahida’s expression did a complete 180 as she turned to smile at Paimon.

“It’s simple, really, he just needs to kitten-sneeze it out!”

“Not a kitten sneeze.” Wanderer muttered, but was steadfastly ignored, even as he continued. “I can’t just turn Sumeru into a winter wonderland. Besides, it’s not like I can just sneeze on command-”

The vines that had been gripping his ankles let go, only to move shoot upwards to wrap around his wrists instead.

“What are you-”

“So that you don’t stifle!” Nahida explained, simply; “And besides, we can always get rid of the ice afterwards. Now, Traveler?”

Both Nahida and Paimon moved to hide behind Aether once more, and the Wanderer didn’t even have a second to protest this development before Aether was snapping his fingers in front of his face, summoning a bright flash of light.

The Wanderer’s breath hitched immediately, unable to get out a single complaint before he was pitching forwards into another fit of kittenish sneezes, his hat falling off from the force of them.

“HhiH’IsHKiu!! Heh’Shkii!!! HahH…heH’ishiu!!! ‘Kshi!! H’inKshiiu!!” The swirling burst of anemo and cyro was almost enough to make Aether stumble back as he summoned a geo shield to protect both him, Nahida, and Paimon. The ice spread across the ground, steadily increasing and covering an eight foot radius. A few snowflakes appeared, and the Wanderer’s next hitching breath was visible in the cold air. “HiihH- Ishhiu!! HihH’inkshii!! H’eshii!! ‘Kshiu! Hh’iKShiu!!!”

The Wanderer gasped for breath, and it was only after a minute passed with no further sneezes and accompanying burst of freezing anemo that Aether slowly lowered the geo shield. Carefully, to avoid slipping on the sudden layer of ice surrounding them, Aether strode forwards, picking the Wanderer’s hat up off the ground and placing it back on the others head for him, yet again.

“Are you okay?” He asked, slightly adjusting the hat as the Wanderer’s hands were still tied. The Wanderer’s eyes blinked open, hazy with tears, and Aether noted that the fading glow was back to it’s usual teal.

“Was th-” The Wanderer’s voice, which quite frankly sounded painful, gave out on him. Aether figured that, with how vocal his little fit had been, that only made sense.

“Here, here, let Paimon say it for you!!” Paimon floated up beside him, slipping into her ‘best’ impression of him. “‘Was that really necessary?’ That’s what you were gonna say, right?”

Based on the Wanderer’s pissed off scowl, yes, that was exactly what he had been going to say.

“It was very necessary, in fact.” Nahida shivered, and Aether reached down and picked her up so that her bare feet weren’t touching the cool ice. “It would’ve taken a week at the rate you were going, and you would’ve only gotten worse over that time.”

She snapped her fingers, the vines disappearing, and the Wanderer instantly crossed his arms, looking away from them.

Nahida let out a sigh. Aether, after a brief moment, sighed as well.

“C’mon.” He said, adjusting Nahida slightly and turning around. “Lets head back to the Sanctuary and get the both of you warmed up- I’ll even make that bitter tea that you like so much. At the very least, drinking something hot will help your throat.”

A small, cool breeze hit the back of Aether’s neck, and he just barely kept himself from yelping, turning slightly to see the evil smirk on the Wanderer’s face.

Aether’s only response was to roll his eyes.

#Gen/shin Im/pact #snz #snz fic #my writing

95 notes · View notes

majoliish · 2 years ago

Note

Ok… so here me out…

The main cast x royal reader.

Omg yes I love this idea!! I imagine the Devildom is smaller than the human world in terms of sheer numbers (think millions vs billions) so the demons kind of assume you’re more widely known/a bigger deal than you actually are.

I had a lot of fun working with this prompt (especially for Diavolo, there's just something about the idea of him connecting with someone else who is royalty that charms me)

Main cast x royal!reader (gender neutral, referred to as ‘you’) !!

Lucifer - He employs a pretty decent amount of respect towards you, though won’t hesitate to make it known that you shouldn’t expect to have the same luxuries in the Devildom that you did back in the human world. He may ask the occasional polite question regarding it all, but won’t go out of his way to question you. He acts with a mild distaste if you try to pull rank or do anything that normally wouldn’t be acceptable within polite society - he won’t hesitate to scold you or remind you of how he thinks royalty ‘should’ act.

Mammon - He mostly cares about the money, jewels, and your previous lavish lifestyle. He’ll ask a million questions, but all of them somehow circle back to those three things. He takes it upon himself to become a ‘butler’ of sorts, but in reality that’s just him making up excuses to give others orders that he’s come up with and demand things that he wants under the guise of it being for you. He does think it’s pretty cool though, and secretly sort of looks up to you because of it. He may also kick up quite a fuss if anyone dares to look down on you in any way.

Leviathan - Totally freaks out upon finding out. Kind of trips up over himself a lot and uses a bunch of weird (and a lot of irrelevant or out of date) titles for you, bows and natters away at you until he catches himself and gets super flustered. His self deprecation is kind of bumped up a notch thanks to this - he’s always saying things about how he’s not worthy of being in your presence and so on. You’ll also get compared to just about every royal fictional character he knows whenever you so much as breathe.

Satan - He’s kind of weird about the idea at first, almost to the point of being outright rude to you - he’s unsure of how to act and covers that up with his usual surly demeanour. It takes some time and work to break his hard outer shell, but once he’s got it through his thick skull that you’re not at all as bad as he assumed you’d be, his interest is piqued. He has lots of questions about the inner workings of royalty in the human world, and wants to know all about the intricacies of your family and their various dealings.

Asmodeus - He thinks it’s a super attractive quality in a person, and is immediately all over you, asking all sorts of questions about what kind of luxuries you experienced back home, how strict the rules were, that kind of thing. He’s just fascinated to know about the lavish life you must’ve lived back home, and also really wants to hear about any deep family gossip. His outfit and accessory choices when he’s shopping for you will also be tailored especially with your status in mind.

Beelzebub - It’s all pretty much the same to him, really. His only real interest might be in what kinds of food you got to eat, the big meals you must’ve had, being royalty and all. He doesn’t treat you any differently than he would if you weren’t royalty, he’s a pretty straightforward demon for the most part.

Belphegor - He’s a little apprehensive of it at first - he expects you to be stuck up, full of yourself and not willing to listen to others (much like a certain someone else he knows), so he keeps his distance at first. It’s a pleasant surprise for him to realise that you’re far more down-to-earth than he expected. He’s pretty quiet and shy around you at first, but as time goes on he seems to open up and may even ask you questions about your rank and lifestyle.

Diavolo - He feels a special kind of connection with you from day one - he takes solace in the fact that you must’ve been through a lot of the same struggles he has and seeks to have you as one of his best friends/confidants. Though the vast population difference between the human realm and the Devildom isn’t quite something he understands, he kind of assumes that just because you’re royalty, you must have control over a large swath of the human world, with millions of subjects under your immediate command. Regardless of that, he’s really interested to hear about every detail in which your status differs from his, and will often try to pull you aside for a conversation about it - his curiosity is insatiable.

Barbatos - He defers to you in a way that’s almost comparable to how he treats Diavolo (though of course he gets priority). He’s polite almost to the point of infuriating, always waiting on you and trying to anticipate your needs before you’ve even recognised them in the first place. He fusses and preens and may sometimes even pass light judgements on things that you wear, say or do, ‘wondering’ aloud at whether certain actions would be seen as proper for human royalty, since they’re not for demons. It comes across as passive-aggressive, but he is one hundred percent sincere about it.

Simeon - He’s sort of nonchalant about your royal status - not in a rude way, but it tends to be an aspect of you that he might playfully poke fun at every now and then. It’s a point of mild interest to him, and for the sake of knowledge he’ll ask you occasional questions about things he’s curious about, and may even ask if he might be allowed to visit you some time. Though, he may get a little snippy if he thinks that someone isn’t showing you the appropriate amount of respect.

Luke - He’s not entirely sure how he should be acting around you, and thus tends to subconsciously mimic the actions of those he looks up to. It’s almost funny, watching him cycle through the behaviours of Simeon, Lucifer, Solomon, Barbatos and Beelzebub (sometimes all in one conversation), trying to get a grasp on how best to approach and speak to you. He’ll just keep doing this until you address it with him directly. When reassured (multiple times) that he’s free to act however he likes around you, he’s closer to his normal self, with his usual sense of wonderment and excitement, asking you lots of questions to try and understand you better.

Solomon - Somehow, he knows more about your family, lineage, alliances and inner political workings than you do. It’s almost uncanny, the amount of information he seemingly just has on hand about you, and it can be very off putting when someone asks you an innocent question about an ancestor of yours, only for Solomon to come swooping in with all the answers they’re looking for and then some. He doesn’t often directly ask you any questions, unless there’s a specific gap in his knowledge that he hasn’t been able to fill, so the questions he does ask get almost freakishly specific.

Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagiarise my writing! I do not consent for my works to be translated and posted elsewhere, or used to teach bots!

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vodika-vibes · 1 year ago

Text

The Joys of Dating a Chosen One

Summary: Your sweet Captain comes to a sudden realization, and it makes him love you all the more.

Pairing: Captain Keeli x Reader

Word Count: 1195

Warnings: Suggestive at the End

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I love FFXIV, I've beaten the main story...uh...three times now? Almost four times, so anyway. I was playing that and having thoughts about Keeli (I love him, I blame @the-bad-batch-baroness) and they sort of merged together into this AU.

Divider by Saradika

“On the day when the sun and the moon-”

“Babe!” Keeli lowers his datapad and shoots you a frustrated look, “Babe, I love you, but if you make another prophecy and drag us into another life or death, divine calling, fiasco, I’m breaking up with you.”

You turn so that you’re sitting on your knees on the chair, and you sling your arms over the back, “No, you won’t.” You say smugly.

Keeli sighs and drops his head back against the couch, “No.” He agrees, “I won’t, but I will bitch about it. I was not trained to kill god. Either capital G or lower case G.”

“But you did such a good job last time!” You say with a laugh.

“Babe.”

You laugh outright, and hop out of your chair and drop on the couch next to him. You tuck your head under his chin, and he sighs and wraps his arms around you, his fingers immediately moving to the scars that line your body. Scars he knows as well as his own. You smile up at him adoringly, “I love you.”

He brushes his thumb across your lower lip, and then he ducks his head and kisses you quickly, “I love you too. But I do wish you had told me that you were the galaxy’s punching bag before we started dating.”

“Oh, but then you might have said no.” You tease as you shift so that you’re straddling his lap.

“Nah, I would have still said yes. But I would have thought about it for, like, 30 seconds.” Keeli replies with a grin as he sets his datapad to the side and grips your hips to tug you so you’re flush against him.

“Really?” You ask, disbelievingly.

“I don’t think you quite understand how insanely attractive you are.” Keeli replies with a wide grin.

You press your hands against his cheeks, “The day before I asked you out, I literally killed a Death God who was trying to destroy a planet. Asking you out was much scarier.”

“Hm…Captain Keeli, more intimidating than a Death God.” He muses thoughtfully.

You laugh and kiss him, “Not like that. People skills aren’t exactly my strong suit, lover boy.”

“I have no complaints about any of your skills, cyar’ika.” He purrs.

“You’re a pervert.”

He shrugs one shoulder with a wide grin crossing his handsome face, “Only for you.” He says as his hands slide a little lower to rest on your thighs.

You giggle and kiss the tip of his nose, and aren’t the least bit surprised when he tilts his head back to catch your lips with his own.

Keeli kisses like he does everything else in his life. Carefully, methodically. His kisses steal the breath from your very lungs and replace it with himself. He kisses you like he needs you like air, and you love it about him.

He breaks the kiss, and you’re breathless and hazy eyed, and he grins at you. “My sweet cyar’ika,” Keeli coos, “You always react so nicely when I kiss you like that.”

You flash a dreamy smile, “You kiss me like you need me.”

“Fair, because I do need you.” Keeli murmurs, “All of the time, at every moment.” He slides one of his hands up your spine and he presses his hand against your cheek. “I wouldn’t be here, if not for you.”

You blink at him, surprised. “Keeli, you’re an excellent soldier-”

“Shh…let me talk.” Keeli murmurs.

You sigh and lean in to press your forehead against his, your eyes closing as his thumb starts rubbing soothing circles on your cheek.

“I was on Ryloth. And me and my men, as well as our general, decided to stay back, to protect the civilians from being gunned down.” His voice was low, gentle, as if he’s not talking about an event that should have killed him, “It was only a matter of time before we were run over-”

He moves and presses a light kiss against your lips, and then drags his lips across to your cheek, and down to your jaw.

“I should have died there. I was supposed to die there. And yet I didn’t.”

You hands have a distinct waver to them as you press them against his shoulders, “You got lucky…or your jedi-”

“You were there, weren’t you?”

You duck your head, “There’s no proof-”

“Cyare,” His voice is so gentle that you aren’t even able to finish the sentence.

“I was on Ryloth for something else, something that I had to do.” You admit, your voice very quiet. “I wasn’t supposed to get involved. The war…it’s not my problem. Or, it wasn’t.” You slide one hand down to rest over his heart, “But I was there, and I saw what was about to happen, and I couldn’t just walk away…so I got involved. I…removed…a portion of the opposing army, not all of them, but enough that you and your brothers would live.”

“And I appreciate it,” Keeli murmurs, “I just don’t understand why.”

You’re quiet for a long moment, trying to gather your thoughts, “When this whole thing began, I was just a wanderer.” You admit slowly, “I wanted to help people, all people. But then my adventures started getting bigger and bigger, and before I knew it I was fighting gods and demons and coming out the other side hurt, but alive. And I just…I just couldn’t leave you all to die. Not when I could do something about it.”

“Thank you,” Keeli whispered.

“You’re welcome.” You reply with a small smile, “but, um, I didn’t know that you were one of the men I’d saved until…well…just now, actually.”

He grins and bumps his nose against yours, “So, us being together is just fate then.”

“Fuck Fate.” You whisper, “I make my own choices.” You kiss him deeply, and he groans into the kiss, his hand sliding up under the hem of your shirt to allow his fingers to dance against the scarred skin of your stomach.

“Have I ever mentioned,” Keeli mumbles against your lips, “how incredibly, insanely, attractive I find you? And that I love you more than anything in this galaxy?”

“You’ve mentioned it once or twice,” You reply.

“Not nearly enough.” He stands suddenly, and you fling your arms around his neck to stabilize yourself, “I’ll just have to show you, won’t I?”

Your face burns with sudden embarrassment when you notice the way he’s looking at you.

And he laughs as he turns to carry you into your bedroom, “And then, my perfect, wonderful cyare, you can tell me all about this next god we have to kill.”

You release a breathless laugh, “I thought you weren’t interested?”

“I changed my mind.” Keeli replies as he drops you on the bed, and then peels his shirt off, “After all, watching you kill a god is probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

You blink at him, “Hotter than-?”

“Yes.”

“Even when I-?”

“Even then.”

“...huh.”

He grins at you, “Any more questions?”

“Nope.” You reach out your arms to him, “I love you.”

Keeli’s grin widens, “I love you too.”

#star wars #tcw #captain keeli x reader #keeli x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #reader could be seen as a WOL from FFXIV #or just some poor unlucky adventurer who's the galaxy's punching bag

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sitkowski · 4 months ago

Text

it's madness by design (justin morrow x ofc x ryan sitkowski for circle-with-me)

prompt request for the beloved @circle-with-me who chose violence with this one. comes from the threesome smut prompts, #1 "i see how you look at my girlfriend" and #6 "you think you could handle us at the same time?"

cw: 18+ MDNI ⚠️ threesomes, mentions of voyeurism, mentions of safewords, rough sex, oral sex (m and f receiving), orgasm delay, anal fingering (f receiving), unprotected double penetration, overstimulation, choking, spitting, aftercare.

title comes from "tailspin" by cipher sight. divider by @saradika-graphics

word count: 3.8k

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Beck arrives on a Thursday, one week before the tour is due to end, to finish out the shows with them. Justin might be a little slow on the uptake sometimes, but it doesn’t take him that long to catch on to what he sees around him. He wonders if anyone else notices, how Ryan’s eyes drift over Beck, the change in body language when they’re in the room together. Justin doesn’t think anything is going on between them, but the tension is noticeable and for some reason it doesn’t bother him. It makes him curious. Ryan’s always been objectively pretty to him, and he’d be lying to himself if he says he hasn’t thought about the idea once or twice. Ryan, Beck, the three of them.

Justin knows that he could just outright ask, but it could also just be in his head. So he decides to test a theory, while they’ve got a travel day to the next city. Everyone’s doing their own thing, the length of the tour just about wearing them all thin. When he asks Ryan if he wants to watch a movie in the back lounge with him and Beck, he sees that split second of hesitation before he agrees. If Beck senses that Justin might have ulterior motives, she doesn’t say anything about it.

She does sit next to Justin and then pat the cushion beside her for Ryan, who lingers in the doorway. “You can sit down, Ry. I don’t bite.”

��Unless you ask her to.” Justin says, almost automatically and only half joking.

Beck rolls her eyes and digs her elbow into his chest as Ryan comes and sits with them, leaving a healthy amount of space between them. Which is both adorable and unneeded, given how much this band tends to cuddle with each other on a regular basis. He looks almost panicked when Beck reaches around him to grab a blanket, tossing it over the three of them.

He lets Ryan pick the movie, and waits until everyone settles before he drapes his arm around Beck’s shoulders. His fingertips trace beneath the collar of her shirt, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Ryan looking. Justin’s hand doesn’t move, as tempting as it is to see how far he could take this before one of them did something. Beside him, Beck turns a little, leaning into his chest while stretching one of her legs out across Ryan’s knee. Justin just barely contains the amused noise at the look on his face, as if he’s never seen a leg before in his life.

Eventually, Beck gets up to go to the bathroom. Ryan takes a grateful pull from his vape and Justin chooses that moment to say something.

“I see the way you look at my girlfriend.”

Predictably, Ryan chokes on the exhale. Justin doesn’t laugh, as much as he wants to. He knows it was a dick move. But, he’s kind of a dick. He reaches over and whacks Ryan on the back until he can breathe normally again.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” Ryan mutters. “And of course I’m looking at your girlfriend, you’ve seen her, right?”

He’s sure that Beck would like the compliment, but he’s only got a few more minutes before she gets back. “So, you wanna do something about that?”

“Oh my god, you are the fucking worst. You are not sitting here trying to set me up with your girlfriend right now.”

“No, I’m trying to invite you along to a threesome, dumbass.”

Ryan just stares at him, takes another hit off his vape, eyes narrowing. He’s obviously waiting for Justin to laugh or get up and leave, for him to do anything but to continue to stare at him impassively.

“I’m not blind, Ry. Also not deaf, by the way because I hear you in your bunk below mine when she’s in there with me. So, I’m extending the offer, if you want it. We have a hotel night tomorrow night.”

Before Ryan can answer him, the door is sliding open and Beck’s coming back in. She looks back and forth between the two of them, picking up on the fact that she’s missed something. “Everything okay?”

“Yep, c’mere.” Justin tugs on her wrist, pulling her down onto her lap and blowing a raspberry on her neck. Maybe it’s a little for Ryan’s benefit, especially when she tosses her head back and laughs, batting his hands away when they wander beneath the hem of her shirt. “We were just making plans for tomorrow night.”

“Oh yeah? What’s on the menu?”

“You, hopefully.”

“Fuck,” Ryan chokes again and this time Justin does laugh at him. “You dick.”

Beck doesn’t say anything at first, but she also doesn’t storm out of the room. He can tell she’s thinking about it. All she has to do is say no and they’ll pick out another movie, forget about the whole thing. Justin will let Ryan continue to jerk off in his bunk alone thinking about the two of them above him at night.

“You’re rooming with Rick tomorrow, right?” is what she says to Ryan, who just stares back at her and nods. Beck holds out her hand, wiggling her fingers so he’ll pass her his vape pen. He hands it to her, and she takes a hit, wrinkling her nose at whatever flavor it must be. “Okay, so just come over.”

Justin isn’t really surprised by her answer, but Ryan seems to be, judging by the look on his face. “Just like that? You’re okay with—”

“Why do you act like this is the first time we’ve done this with someone? God Ry, what is in this thing?” she asks, passing the pen back to him.

“Blueberry lemon…wait you guys have had a threesome before?”

Rolling her eyes, Beck slides out of Justin’s lap and moves over to Ryan. She leans in and kisses him and yeah, that’s exactly the visual that Justin thought it would be. It takes Ryan a few seconds to react, but then he’s kissing her back. His hand slides up the back of her neck, fisting in her hair and giving it a little pull.

“Hey Ryan, can I have your last pack of Pop Tarts?” Vinny yells from the hall.

From where Justin’s sitting watching, he can see when Ryan pulls back, dragging his thumb across Beck’s bottom lip before he goes to deal with whatever snacks Vinny’s trying to steal. He stops in the doorway, looking back and forth between the two of them.

“Tomorrow night then.”

Beck heads back to the hotel while the band is wrapping up at the venue. She showers, and just puts on one of Justin’s old Bills shirts instead of trying to make any kind of impression. It’s just Ryan, one of their best friends, who Justin intends to share her with. He didn’t have to convince her, not at this point in their relationship when nothing surprises her anymore and she knows that doing this with Ryan will be fun.

She skips her night time routine because she has a feeling she’s going to need another shower before the night is over. Before she knows it, the door is emitting the electronic beep for the key card being used, and Justin’s coming into the room, Ryan not far behind. They both obviously showered at the venue, but she can still see remnants of paint hiding parts of Justin’s tattoos on his arms, and bits of it along the sides of Ryan’s neck. Justin’s the one who throws himself down on the bed, leaning up to give her a kiss while Ryan leans against the table in the corner of the room, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“I don’t know how this works, exactly,” he admits. “I’ve hooked up with two girls before, but never a girl and another guy. Someone’s gotta have a plan.”

Beck looks at Justin, “This was your bright idea, and while I’m all for it, he’s right. What’s the plan?”

Justin looks from her, to Ryan, and back again. “You think you can handle us at the same time?”

The visual the suggestion provokes leaves her mouth dry, and she can only nod.

“Do you guys have any rules I should know about?” Ryan asks.

It’s a fair question, at least. And Beck doesn’t think anyone they’ve invited into their bed before has been considerate enough to ask.

“You can’t spread this shit around the tour.” Beck says, even though she doubts he will. But when they both wince, she rolls her eyes. “Christ, do I even want to know?”

“Vin overheard us on the bus and he told Chris.” Justin says.

“Chris asked if he could come watch.” Ryan adds.

She can’t even be surprised by that, and gives in to the fact that everyone and the crew will probably know about this by morning. It’s not as if she’s ashamed of it or anything. Justin doesn’t let her dwell on the thought long enough.

“You got the medical clearance before the tour just like I did, so we can forgo condoms, but you can’t come inside of her.”

He says it so casually that Beck just stares at him for a minute, before she nods. Ryan nods too, agreeing.

“You guys got a safeword?”

Her eyebrows raise, and Justin smirks. “What do you think we get up to that requires a safeword?”

“I know you’re just fucking with me. I know you're into some freaky shit, your boyfriend’s got a big mouth.”

“Yeah but not on tour, it’s too complicated to try and plan shit out like that. We keep it pretty vanilla when she comes out on the road.”

“Are we gonna need a safeword?” Beck asks finally. “If so, I mean, the traffic system is always a solid choice.”

“Less for an actual something, more for in case things get overwhelming.” Ryan says and it’s explanation enough for both Justin and Beck.

Ryan crooks a finger at her. He doesn’t move away from the table, he expects her to get up and come to him. After a few seconds, she finally moves, getting up and walking over. It had taken her a while to get used to the height difference between her and Justin, so it’s almost a surprise when she’s standing in front of Ryan and actually staring at his face, not his chest. The kiss on the bus was nothing compared to when he kisses her now, tentative for a few seconds before growing into something heated and punishing that she has to try to keep up with. She doesn’t know when the switch was flipped, but she likes it. It doesn’t take her long to catch up; he pushes and she pulls, his tongue slides along hers and she meets it with her own. When his teeth bite into her lip, her back arches, a shiver crawling up her spine.

She feels Justin’s presence behind her and he presses himself into her back, effectively pinning her between himself and Ryan. He reaches down, catching the hem of the shirt she’s wearing and pulling it up over her head, leaving her bare. The cooler air in the room makes goosebumps break out all over her already overheated skin. One of Ryan’s hands wraps around her throat, just enough for her to feel the sensation of his rings pressing into her skin, and her eyes flutter closed.

“I might have told him a few things,” Justin confesses in her ear. “Why don’t you help him feel more comfortable?”

He steps back enough to give her room, and Beck sinks down to her knees. When she looks up at Ryan, he doesn’t look as unsure as he did in the back lounge the other night, not until she hooks her fingers in the waistband of his shorts and pulls them down.

“I know I’m not as big as—”

“Finish that thought,” Beck cuts off whatever self-deprecating comment he was going to make, wrapping her fingers around him. “I dare you.”

She leans in to drag her tongue up the underside of his cock, teasing over the head before pulling him halfway into her mouth. Above her, Justin leans against Ryan’s side so that they’re both watching her. Her head bobs a few times, and she lets her teeth scrape him, just a little.

“Is she always like this?” Ryan asks, voice hitching.

“Sometimes she’s mean.” Justin laughs.

Beck pulls off and bites Ryan’s thigh as if to prove a point. Before she can do anything else, Justin’s hand slides into her hair at the nape of her neck, preventing her from taking Ryan back into her mouth. She doesn’t need to tell Ryan that Justin can be a little mean too. She watches avidly as Justin leans in and whispers something in Ryan’s ear, trying not to squirm and ignoring the way that the hotel room carpet is digging into her knees. The look on Ryan’s face turns sly, and then they’re both looking at her.

“Oh yeah?” Ryan says to whatever Justin’s told him. Justin pulls a little and Beck gets up. Ryan grabs onto her jaw, and she can’t even feel embarrassed about the rush of wetness between her thighs. “Open up.”

She wasn’t sure if she was going to murder Justin for this idea or buy him a puppy, but her mouth falls open at the request. Ryan leans in, and he doesn’t kiss her, he spits in her mouth. Before she can even close her mouth, Justin is there, his tongue sliding along hers and she moans helplessly, grabbing onto both of their shirts.

“Both of you need to be wearing less, right now.”

Pulling out of their grasp, Beck moves back and sits on the bed, moving until she’s up against the headboard, waiting patiently. It doesn’t take them long to get out of their clothes. Ryan’s still got his fang necklace on and Justin hooks his finger beneath it, in between the teeth, pulling him in close. Beck’s seen him kiss Ryan’s muzzle on stage, a goofy little thing for the fans, but it’s something else entirely to watch them kiss for real now; the way they push and pull at each other. She’s pretty sure Justin gives in first, letting Ryan fist a hand in his hair and keep him in place while he licks into his mouth. Justin mumbles something to him that Beck doesn’t hear, and then they’re separating.

Ryan climbs onto the bed with her, while Justin turns towards where their bags are piled. Beck thinks that Ryan is going to come kiss her again, but he grabs her ankle and yanks, dragging her down the bed. The sudden move draws a surprised squeak from her, and she’s dimly aware of Justin’s laugh as Ryan’s shouldering himself between her thighs. She’s got no choice but to let him pull her legs over his shoulders, and she drags one of her feet up his back as he drags his mouth along her inner thigh. Beck gasps and squirms when he nuzzles against her skin, sinking his teeth into the exact same spot she did him. She starts to grab onto him, but then Justin is there, distracting her with his mouth.

He sucks marks into her shoulder, the curve of her breast. He digs his fingers into the swell of her hips, slides them down, spreads her open for Ryan’s tongue. Beck tries for a second time to touch him, but Justin gathers both of her wrists in one hand, holding them over her head effortlessly. She tries to use her legs to get Ryan closer, rocking her hips up, but he wraps both of his arms tightly around her thighs, pinning her down to the bed.

“Always so fucking bossy,” she mutters and Justin just smirks at her, keeping his eyes on her face.

He doesn’t do anything else. He just watches her, sees the way she reacts, how she’s fighting to keep her eyes from rolling back when Ryan finally slides two fingers inside of her, moving them fast enough that she can hear his bracelets rattling, feel the edges of his rings and the rough calluses on his fingers. Beck likes that he’s not trying to be gentle with her, he’s not afraid to use a little teeth. When Justin’s fingers edge in alongside Ryan’s, Beck sobs, tossing her head back into the pillows. She’s already so close, she can feel it. But apparently they’ve been having a secret conversation without her, because they both stop. She looks down in shock, sees Ryan pulling Justin’s fingers into his mouth, licking them clean.

“If I’m so bossy, you can wait a little while longer,” Justin murmurs against her temple. He passes Ryan the bottle of lube he’d brought to the bed with him. “Here. Be fucking nice.”

Beck wants to laugh at his audacity, but instead she just turns her head more so she can kiss him. She looks for a distraction, and Justin senses that. He lets go of her wrists, curling one of those big hands of his around her hip, pulling until she’s on her side pressed up against him. Ryan moves in behind her, easing her thigh up over Justin’s leg.

She jolts a little at the first feel of Ryan pressing two fingers into her ass, nudging them apart and twisting them slowly. He presses a kiss to her shoulder, gives her a minute to adjust to the feel. Justin reaches down between them, guiding his cock inside of her and she tears her mouth away from his, trying to remember how to breathe because she can feel them both inside of her. A high pitched whine crawls from her throat when she realizes that Justin isn’t going to move, he just sinks as far into her as he can and stays there, waiting while Ryan stretches her open.

“I’m ready, I promise, Ry, c’mon,” she pleads quietly. Justin kisses her again, soft and teasing and she moves restlessly, clenching down on his cock, trying to get someone to do something. “Please…”

“You sure?” Ryan asks, twisting his fingers a little more.

This time it’s Justin who curses, “If she’s not sure, I am. You’re practically giving me a handjob from inside of her. Let’s go already.”

Beck laughs, she can’t help it. But it doesn’t last long, when she feels the pressure of Ryan pushing inside her, the overwhelming fullness that robs her of the ability to think, much less speak. He doesn’t stop moving, not until he’s fully in. If she thought that what she felt before was something, it is beyond anything she’s ever had before. Dimly, she’s aware of Justin’s hand on her face, tipping her head back by her chin. Something must show in her eyes, because he frowns a little.

“Hey, what’s your color?” he asks.

“Green as your fucking hair,” she giggles, a little delirious about how she’s feeling right now. It doesn’t hurt, it’s just a lot. “Someone needs to move right now.”

Ryan is the one who takes Beck at her word, pulling almost all the way back out and thrusting back in. Both she and Justin moan at the feeling, and the next time, Justin follows and rocks into her when Ryan pulls back. It doesn’t take them long to find the right rhythm, or to stop being careful with her. Ryan’s hand comes back up to grasp the underside of her jaw and Justin’s big enough to be able to duck down and get his mouth around one of her nipples easily. She can’t move between them, can’t do anything but take what they’re giving her. And she loves it.

“You gonna come for us?” Ryan asks in her ear. He’s not choking her exactly, she can still pull in air. But then his fingers tighten, just a little. “C’mon Beck, you were so close earlier, it can’t be that far off.”

She doesn’t have a chance to give him a verbal answer, Justin’s mouth sliding over hers again. She reaches back, digging her nails into Ryan’s thigh, trying to get him closer even though it’s impossible. Her other hand fists in Justin’s hair, keeping him where he is. They move her back and forth between them, and she feels Justin’s hand slapping down over hers, simultaneously tangling his fingers with hers and grabbing onto Ryan for more leverage.

Beck can’t articulate it when she finally comes, too caught up in the overwhelming sensations. She’s aware of Justin saying something to Ryan that sounds suspiciously like “get out of her” and then Ryan’s pulling out and she feels him spilling against her ass. He moves out of the way, just barely, as Justin rolls Beck over onto her back without even pulling out of her, hips snapping into hers hard enough to move her up the bed a few inches. She shoves her hands above her against the headboard, feeling the tension in her arms.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Ryan moving off the bed. He sits in one of the chairs, grabs his vape and takes a hit, watching the two of them. Justin grabs onto Beck’s jaw, pulling her attention back to him. He gets a little rougher, showing off, and she can’t help but smirk and turn her head a little, pulling his fingers into her mouth.

“You gonna come on my cock?” he asks, his voice a low growl. She knows Ryan still hears him anyway. “Let me come inside you?”

Beck nods, high pitched noises muffled by his fingers, and he reaches down, pulling her leg higher as he all but slams into her. She doesn’t have time to wonder what this might look like to Ryan, who’s still watching them through a cloud of smoke. Justin yanks her hips in tight, going still as he spills inside of her, and it’s enough to push her over the edge a second time. Finally, she spits out his fingers, pressing her lips to his forehead as he puts almost all of his weight on her, knowing she likes it.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Justin asks, and Beck’s brow furrows in confusion before she realizes he’s talking to Ryan. She glances over to see him grabbing his shorts to put back on. “You can’t leave.”

“I’m sure you guys are done with me by now and wanna clean up—”

“Get your ass back in this bed, Ry.” Beck says. Her voice hitches when Justin pulls out of her, only for him to spoon up behind her and wrap her in his arms, the mess between them ignored for now. “You’re staying the night.”

“But—”

“It’s another rule,” Justin informs him. “And you’re buying the coffee in the morning.”

Ryan stares at the two of them for a moment, before putting down his clothes and making his way back to the bed.

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#motionless in white fic #justin morrow fic #ryan sitkowski fic #justin morrow x ofc x ryan sitkowksi #.ficbysitkowski #tumblr prompt fills

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