#consideration of her feelings. like die lol

[muichirous]

everytime i think about kowloon generic romance and its latest chapters i get so upset 😔

[widevibratobitch]

.

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

hiii <33

first i want to say that i absolutely ADORE your page on here, your writing is just wow, perfection!! i really liked your sirius story (even tho i strayed off a bit and started liking rabastan too ahahahah-) it's amazing omg

and i was wondering would you be up for writing for barty? anything with him honestly lol, but if you don't have any ideas feel free to ignore this!

SAY LESSSSSSS (I've been dying for someone to request Barty or rosekiller pls send all the requests). Also! so glad you enjoyed that fic! (I played myself and kinda fell for Rab too 😬)

I Wanna Be Yours | BCJ

feat. Barty Crouch Jr. x blackcat!reader

SUMMARY: Barty is determined to win your affection, but due to his larger-than-life personality and your aloof nature, you find it difficult to trust his intentions.

CW: MDNI 18+, smut, pov switches once, a little angst and a little fluff, blackcat!reader, artist!Barty, only soft for each other, mentions of drinking and drug use, strong language, sort of insecure!reader, Barty is a giant simp

AN: i'm having my scene music renaissance, and something about that era is so Barty-coded. I have a few other songs that suit him in my mind, but I'd love to hear any ideas you guys might have!

masterlist

“Honestly, I don't know what Slughorn’s problem is. If I want to make a love potion that makes Xeno hard for four days, I can—”

“Four days and I would die of deprivation,” Xenophilius chuckled, his arm draped over Pandora's shoulders.

“Sure, but what a way to go.”

You walked beside them, half-listening to their sugar-dipped conversation, equal parts disgusted and deeply jealous. You'd never admit it, but you so badly wanted what your best friend had. Devotion, affection, complete and total acceptance. But you walked through life like a spring-loaded trap, biting the fingers off anyone that dared come close.

“Should we grab dinner before heading to the library? I'm starved,” Pandora said, turning her attention to you.

“Sure, it's probably quiet this early anyways—”

“Going to dinner, are we?” Evan bound up between Xeno and Pandora, throwing his arms over their shoulders. “I'm fucking ravenous.”

Two arms looped around your waist, hauling you back into a solid chest. The familiar scent of clove cigarettes and paint enveloped you, as if you needed any clues to know exactly who had the audacity to handle you so boldy.

“As am I,” Barty purred against the shell of your ear.

You wriggled in his hold, slapping at his forearms until he released you. “Not in the mood, Junior,” you warned, ignoring the way your stomach flipped when you met his dark eyes, eyeliner smudged along his lashes.

“Aw, don't be cross, gorgeous. You looked like you needed a hug,” he teased, falling into step between you and Pandora, slowing his natural gait considerably. He snatched your books from your arms, ignoring your protest and cradling them against his chest. He was dressed in a white dress shirt and a Slytherin vest, his tie loose and sleeves pushed up, hand-poked tattoos sprawling and dark against his forearms.

“I'm fairly certain she needs a hug as much as she needs your dumbass in her space,” Pandora said, rolling her eyes. “Which is not at all.”

“Oh, she needs me.” Barty grinned. “She just doesn't know it yet.”

“Give it a rest, Crouch,” Xeno cut in. “Keep pushing her and you'll end up on the bottom of the Black Lake.”

“Oh, how exciting! How will you do it, treasure? Stabbing? Maiming? Choking? Oh Merlin’s fuck, please say choking—”

“Maiming sounds about right,” you bit, attempting to get your books back, but he was far too tall, holding them way above your head. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction of jumping for it, and crossed your arms over your chest with a huff.

“You can maim me whenever you like,” he said, a cheeky smirk on his stupid, handsome face. “Will you do it now if I ask nicely?”

You ignored him, looking forward again.

Barty Crouch Jr. loved nothing more than fucking with you, finding the gaps in your armor and trying to pry them open. But no matter how attractive you found him, because saints was he attractive, or how endearing he could be in the in-between moments, you refused to play his game.

You would not be made a fool of, not like every other person he set his sights on and got bored with a week later.

“So are we eating or what?” Evan asked, walking backwards at the front of the group. Any student unfortunate enough to be in his path quickly scurried out of it, cowed by the Slytherin's reputation for retaliation.

You watched them shrink away from Barty too, who clearly got some sick sense of pleasure from it. He even bared his teeth at a Gryffindor that veered to close to you, flipping your bodies around so he was on the outside and you were next to Pandora again.

“I'm actually going to head back to the dorm,” you said, slowing so you fell out of line with them. “See you later?” You said to Pandora, who gave you a tight frown.

“Are you sure?” She asked, tilting her head like an avian.

“Yeah, you guys enjoy,” you said, pretending you didn't see the disappointment flash across Barty’s face as you turned on your heel, letting the opposite flow of students sweep you up and away from your friends.

The truth was, Barty scared the shit out of you. He was everything you weren't: outgoing, bold, rebellious, and just charming enough to get himself out of whatever mess he and Evan made. And for whatever reason, he was obsessed with pushing your buttons. And he did, with infuriating efficiency.

Pandora insisted it was all in good fun, that he was harmless, but you knew better. You saw the way he manipulated others to get what he wanted, the way he masked his calculation with charisma.

Barty Crouch Jr. was far from harmless, and even if he had his friends fooled, he would not fool you.

Barty's POV

Barty watched your head bob away through the crowded corridor, your books still heavy in his arms and guilt gnawing a hole in his chest.

Why couldn't he just fucking control himself? He felt like a noxious ball of energy, filling whatever available space he could, unable to contain his own impulses, a slave to his own existence.

He just wanted you so badly. You occupied every part of his mind, owned every thump of his wretched, ruined heart. He was irrevocably, intrinsically yours, but you couldn't stand him, and it was largely his own damn fault.

Because he was broken. Couldn't hold a normal conversation. Couldn't flirt in a way that wasn't deeply vulnerable, or obscene and intense. For Merlin’s sake, he'd begged you to choke him just now.

You were a fix he couldn't get, so he was suffering withdrawals from a drug he never had. He was going mad with it, the desperation for your attention. He would do anything to hear you say his name, to occupy an ounce of space in that beautiful brain, even if meant looking like an idiot. Like a psycho.

It was worth it just to have you look.

After dinner, the four of them returned to the Slytherin common room, Barty still carrying your books with a wrapped bundle on top. Every step towards your shared dorm with Pandora made his heart beat faster, a nervous sweat collecting along his spine.

Nothing made him nervous like you did.

Barty walked into the room last, his eyes immediately drifting towards your bed even though he tried to resist. You were curled up against a pile of pillows, surrounded by parchment and open books, your quill scribbling furiously across the page in your lap.

You glanced up when they entered, meeting his eyes for a split second, low-lidded and disinterested, per usual, and turned your attention back to your work.

The dismissal itched like a bug under his skin, his blood going hot and tingly. He needed you to look at him again.

He set your books on your desk and kicked off his shoes, flopping onto your bed before he really thought about it. It was softer than his, covered with quilts and pillows, and he noticed a little stuffed cat tucked away under your covers. He could smell you all around him, so sweet and warm, and whatever rationality he had left dissolved into goo.

“Who invited you?” You snapped, shoving at his shoulder with little success. A swell of affection at your pitiful attempt made his heart beat quicken, you were just so fucking cute.

He set the paper bundle on your chest. “Thought you might be hungry, sweetness,” he said, hugging one of your pillows to his chest.

Merlin, you were so beautiful when you glared at him like that. He filed the image away for later, mentally sifting through his paint collection for the perfect shade to match your pout.

You looked a bit perplexed at the package, almost angry, and his anxiety returned, fighting through the haze caused by your proximity. “You brought me food?”

He nodded, biting back ‘and dessert too’. He wanted you to actually eat the food, not throw it at his head.

Hesitantly, you unfolded the bundle, as if he'd given you something rotten, or was pulling a prank. It made his lungs squeeze with guilt. He was shitty to a lot of people, most people. But not to you, never you.

Your brow softened with relief when you realized it was just a sandwich, before quickly furrowing again. He wanted to smooth it with his lips, kiss you until it never creased with worry again.

“I'm not hungry,” you said, setting the bag on the side table. A twinge of hurt stabbed between his ribs, but didn't let his smile falter. He knew that's what you would say. And he also knew you would eat it later, when no one was around to see you accept a small gesture of kindness.

That was good enough for him.

You slid out of your bed, leaving his side cold, and he stretched out against your sheets, wallowing in your residual warmth like a niffler in a pile of gold.

The others chatted around you, Xeno lighting up a joint by the cracked window, but you sat down at your desk, turning back to your work and tuning them out.

Barty sighed, letting his eyes flutter closed so he could pretend he was wrapped in you body instead of your sheets, his nose buried into your hair instead of your pillow.

Reader's POV

You and Pandora walked arm in arm into the library, chatting about the idiots in your Transfiguration class. You were headed to your usual spot at the back of library, a collection of over stuffed chairs by a stained glass window overlooking the Forbidden Forest, and stopped short when you saw Regulus, Evan, and Barty already there.

Barty was reclined in the window, his long legs propped up against the other side, a sketchbook in his lap, quill between his teeth.

“Excuse the hell out of me,” Pandora said, startling them all from their abnormal quiet.

Barty's head snapped up, his eyes immediately landing on you, and he about fell out of the window.

“What? Like you own this table?” Evan drawled, not looking up from his book,his expensive loafers propped up on the table.

“Yes,” Pandora shot back, dropping down beside him and pulling out her books with clear agitation. "So if you're staying, keep your mouth shut."

Evan mimed zipping his lips and crossed his heart. Barty just turned back to his sketchbook instead of sauntering over to you with some cheeky quip on his tongue.

A prickle of uncertainty climbed your neck. Perhaps you really had upset him about that sandwich. You wish you hadn't said you were hungry as soon as it came out of your mouth, but you were too proud to apologize. You were so stunned by the gesture, so overwhelmed by his body pressed against you, his warmth mixing with yours, that you clammed up. Shut him down.

But even now, you couldn't bring yourself to approach him and apologize. Thank him. So, you sat down beside Regulus, the only other member of the group you found tolerable most of the time, and he greeted you with a dip of his chin.

You pulled out your work, determined to pretend Barty wasn't there at all.

Of course, you failed. Your eye kept wandering back to him, his sharp jaw silhouetted by the light, his pierced brow furrowed in concentration as his hand moved across the page, silver rings adorning ink stained fingers. He was dressed down today, jeans and Slytherin sweater, the collar of his shirt underneath it crooked.

After an hour or so of quiet, he dozed off, his head lolled against the window, quill dangling loosely in his fingers. Barty did that a lot, slept in unusual places at unusual times when the quiet dragged on a little too long. Evan mentioned once that Barty struggled to sleep at night, insomnia or something, and even the draughts Madam Pomfry made him only worked sometimes.

Unable to quell your curiosity, you got up to retrieve another book, brushing past him and sparing a glance down at his sketchbook. Your own face stared back at you, framed with rough sketches of your hands, your eyes, the bow of your lips.

Your heart gave a painful lurch, a burst of affection making your bones soften, and you nearly stumbled over the carpet, catching yourself on the bookshelf at the last second.

You hurried down another row, praying none of your friends saw you, and braced yourself against the shelf.

Did Barty like you? Like, actually like you? You couldn't fathom it. It didn't make sense. You weren't kind to him, or outgoing, or special. He was all of those things and more, the most fascinating, maddening, all-consuming person you'd ever met in your life.

Surely, he didn't see all of those things in you? But why would he draw you if he didn't see something of interest? Something he liked?

Fuck, you couldn't breathe in this stuffy library. You needed air.

You steeled yourself and walked back to the table, collecting your things.

“Something wrong, y/n?” Regulus asked, always too perceptive, and Barty stirred, picking his head up from the wall to peer at you through drowsy eyes.

“Nothing, I—”

Barty slid off the window and you lost your train of thought, heat scorching your cheeks. “Rushing off to hang out with your more interesting friends?” Barty asked, his voice a little gruff from his brief nap.

“More interesting friends? Not at Hogwarts,” Evan chuckled. “We're as interesting as it gets.”

“If you're bored, babygirl, all you had to was say so,” Barty hummed, striding up to you.

You placed a hand on his sternum to stop him from coming any closer, ignoring the flare of heat that accompanied the contact. “You were asleep five seconds ago,” you argued.

“Asleep and dreaming of all the ways I could keep you entertained.” He grinned, wicked and sharp, and the simmering heat spread to your lower belly, your heart beating fast.

“What are you, a fucking court jester?” You bit, unable to stop your arm bending as he pushed closer, the smell of ink and his cologne making your mouth water.

“I'm whatever you want me to be,” he flirted, and Regulus and Pandora groaned in unison.

“Will you leave her the fuck alone?” Regulus snapped, tugging Barty back by a belt loop. “She's not interested in your act, Junior.”

“Act?” Barty quirked a brow. “I’m dead serious.”

“Don't talk about his brother that way!” Evan shouted, far too excited to make the over-used joke once again, and you rolled your eyes. Apparently, the rare quiet time had come to an end.

“I don't give a fuck about his brother!”

“I don't give a fuck about you!”

“Oh, so you're a bitch and a liar?”

“I'm not a bitch, you cunt!”

“I'll see you guys at the party later,” you said, using their bickering as your window of escape. You all but fled the library, desperate for some fresh air and clarity.

If Barty sincerely liked you…did that change anything? Was there a way to know for sure how he felt? You didn't even know how you felt, not really. You'd never let yourself really consider it for fear of inevitable disappointment.

Sure, you found him attractive, everyone did. And yes, despite yourself you thought he was funny and sweet, in his own, odd way. And he was especially sweet to you. He never brought your other friends food, or waited for them after class, or snuggled in their beds. Well, besides Evan.

He didn't really touch anyone else either. But if you were close enough, as he often ensured you were, he was touching you whenever he could. Knocked together knees in the Great Hall, leaning on you during class no matter how many times you shoved him off, throwing his arms over your shoulder when it was cold, wrapping his pinky around yours in a particularly crowded hall.

Yes, his words were often obnoxious and bordering on insane, but his actions…his actions were sincere, thoughtful, almost tender.

Was that the real Barty?

Maybe you had been fooled just like everyone else into thinking he was nothing more than a joker, a rowdy troublemaker, when the reality was so much deeper.

Had you been all wrong about him?

By the time you and Pandora left your dorm room to join the party, the common room was a madhouse. Green lights flashed in time with the thumping bass, bodies dancing and mingling in every available spot on the dancefloor, a haze of smoke and glitter over their heads.

You were wearing a black mini dress and heels, held together by string and a prayer. Your hair hung in loose waves down your back, your eyeliner sharp and lips painted. You knew you looked good, lethal in the best way, but all you could think about was Barty's reaction.

Would he like it? Hate it? Or even worse, not even notice?

Together, you and Pandora moved through the crowd towards your friends usual place at the far side of the common room.

Of course, you spotted Barty first. He was leaning against the bar, dressed in all black, tailored trousers and a sleeveless undershirt. Apparently he ditched his actual shirt before you arrived in favor of displaying his countless tattoos, most of them done by his own hand. His hair was dark with pomade and pushed off of his face, glitter clinging to the sweat along his lean chest and shoulders.

He looked like a wet fucking dream.

Xeno let out a low whistle when you and Pandora stepped out from the crowd, drawing Barty's attention from Evan and Dorcas.

His jaw dropped instantly and with a dramatic flourish, he pretended to faint into Evan's arms, clutching at his heart. Despite yourself, you giggled, and Pandora shot you a surprised look through a gap in her boyfriends embrace.

“Are you trying to kill me?” Barty gasped, sliding out of Evan's arms and onto his knees. “Look at—baby, look at you!”

You flushed under the attention, your blood heating as it raced through your veins, but you just rolled your eyes at him, a new confidence blooming in your chest. He loved it.

You strode over to the bar, closing his mouth with a finger, and leaned against the counter. “Firewhisky?” You asked the student bartending, and they stared back at you, dumbstruck, before rushing to collect your drink.

Barty leaned against your legs, his cheek against your thigh. “What are you doing to me?” He whined up at you, feeding into your surge of confidence.

You pushed his head away, tugging at the roots of his hair before releasing him, and he groaned, a low, panty-melting sound. “I'm not doing anything. You're just insufferable,” you chastised, accepting your drink.

“And you're beautiful,” he said, sounding almost reverent, and you nearly choked on your drink.

“Fuck off and drool on someone else, yeah?” You snapped, overwhelmed by his candor, even though it was exactly what you thought you wanted.

Fuck, you didn't know what you wanted. And even when you did, it seemed your subconscious wasn't always in agreement. You had wanted him to drool over you. He was literally on his knees, but some broken part of your brain couldn’t accept it. So you pushed him away.

“C’mon, you simpering mutt,” Evan said, hauling Barty up. “I think I saw a kegger over there.”

Barty started to protest, but Evan and Regulus dragged him away.

“You should have some mercy,” Xeno said, leaning on the bar beside you.

“Oh?” You raised a brow at him, taking a sip of whisky.

“Poor prick is besotted,” Dorcas supplied.

“He's full of shit,” you bit, that panicky feeling crawling up your spine.

Pandora shook her head, and your eyes widened. “It's true, I’ve never seen him so fucked up over someone before.”

“He's not the obsessive type. Not when it comes to dating, at least. He loses interest as often as he changes his underwear. But he's been stuck on you for months,” Dorcas said.

“Yeah, he usually obsesses over like quill tips, and arson—”

“You guys are serious?” You asked, cutting off Xeno. “You think he actually likes me?”

They all stare at you, dumbfounded.

“You can't tell?” Pandora asked, grabbing your face and shaking you. “Babe, he's absolutely gone for you.”

“Like, gone gone,” Dorcas added.

“But it's Barty, I mean—he’s never serious—”

“Exactly, that's what makes it so obvious!” Pandora cried, exasperated. “I thought you knew!”

“Why would you think that!” You shouted back.

“Because he says it constantly!” Your friends yell in unison.

“He was on his knees, y/n. Like literally on his knees,” Xeno said, shaking his head. “It doesn't get much more devoted than that.”

Devoted. It clicked then, the signs you'd been brushing off, refusing to see clearly because of your own veil of distrust. Because you didn’t allow yourself to accept the truth out of fear. Barty had been showing you for months how he felt, and not just in his words, in his actions. Bringing you food when you were hungry, walking you from class to class, meeting your barbs and verbal lashes with a smile.

He’d been wearing his heart on his sleeve this entire time, and all you’d done is punish him for it.

Oh, fuck. How could you be so blind?

You set your drink on the bar and pushed through your friends, ignoring their calls as you forced your way through the crowd, searching for Barty in the sea of green. You found him standing with Evan and few other members of the Quidditch team, cheering while a fifth year shotgunned a dandelion draught.

“Barty!” You shouted over the roar, grabbing his wrist.

He turned, his eyes widening in surprise. “Y/n? Are you alr—where are we going?”

You dragged him into a shadowed alcove, slightly hidden from the party. Your heart was pounding in your ears, tears already burning behind your eyes. “Be honest with me,” you said, forcing yourself to hold his gaze.

“Always,” he said automatically, brow heavy with uncertainty.

“How do you feel about me?” You asked.

Understanding dawned, and Barty's expression melted into something painfully soft, painfully sincere. “I just wanna be yours.”

The admission stole the air from your lungs, made your heart freeze in place. "M-mine?"

“Yours,” he breathed, his hands finding your waist, grip tight as desperation filled his eyes. “Please, let me be yours.” He lowered to his knees again, his head by your navel. “I promise—I promise I’ll be good, if you’ll just give me a chance too—”

You leaned down and grabbed the silver chain around his throat like a collar, dragging his mouth to yours in a fervid, frantic kiss. He surged upwards, lifting you into the air and crushing you between his body and the wall, forcing air out of your lungs. You wrapped your legs around his narrow hips as his tongue pried open your mouth, desperate to taste you. Desire pumped through you, scalding hot and more potent than the whisky, making your head spin, your skin tingle.

You tugged at his hair, drawing him closer, and he whimpered low in his throat. Your cunt clenched at the sound, your thoughts turning singular: make him beg. Your tongue traced his lips, tasting beer and cigarette smoke, and you sucked his lower lip between your teeth, biting hard before soothing it with your tongue.

His hips canted up into your core, his hands moving down to squeeze your ass beneath your dress and grind your core against him. You gasped, breaking the kiss for a moment, and he seized the opportunity to pillage your mouth again, licking at your teeth and the roof of your mouth.

“Your dorm,” you panted, yanking his head back by the roots of his hair.

He didn’t hesitate, throwing you up and over his shoulder in a startling feat of strength.

“Barty!” you squealed, giggling and slapping at his back while he carried you to the stairs, his hand keeping your dress in place so you didn’t flash anyone. He couldn’t have made it any more obvious what was happening, and you found that you didn’t care. If you were going to be with Barty, you were going to have to get used to being loved out loud.

“Look at her ass again, see what happens!” You heard him bark, his voice a rumble through his ribcage, and you rolled your eyes, smiling to yourself as he carried you up the stairs.

A moment later, you were being tossed roughly onto his bed, the door slamming shut with a muttered alohomora. Barty crawled up your body, his dark eyes flashing with a feral hunger that made your pussy purr, and he dove into your neck with his teeth and tongue, making you gasp and arch into his body, your whole body alight with pleasure.

“Easy, baby,” you cooed, petting his hair to try and settle his frantic affection. Poor thing couldn’t seem to control himself, so worked up he was rutting against your thigh. “I’m not going anywhere, darling, relax.”

He whined into your neck, clutching at the fat of your lovehandles. “Need you so bad,” he groaned. “M’sorry, can’t help myself.”

You rolled over him, straddling his hips with yours. “I know, love. Just sit still and be good for me, yeah?”

He nodded vigorously, watching you kiss down his body with heavy-lidded eyes. You pushed up the hem of his undershirt, licking a stripe between the valley of his abdomen muscles, admiring the tattoos you’d only gotten glimpses of.

“So pretty, Bat,” you purred, and felt his cock twitch against your chest, his head falling back against the pillows. “Been wanting me this whole time?”

“Yes, so badly—fuck, treasure, please—” he moaned when you grazed your teeth along his hipbone, sucking the skin into your mouth to leave a mark. His hand tangled in your hair, rings cool against your scalp, and you released his skin with a pop, admiring the plum-colored bruise left behind. “I’m getting that tattooed,” he panted, dragging a thumb over your spit slick lips. “Swear to Salazar.”

You giggled, shifting further down to undo his trousers and finding that he apparently skipped boxers. His cock sprung out to slap against this stomach, rigid and flushed, a bead of pearly precum dripping down to his navel. Gently, you traced a finger over the protruding veins along his shaft, admiring him.

Barty hissed through his teeth, his muscles tensing to keep still.

“Good boy,” you praised, wrapping your hand loosely around him, pumping once, twice without any real pressure. He was long and slightly curved, gorgeous, and you couldn’t resist dragging your tongue up the root of him, feeling the velvety texture against your lips.

“Fucking shit, you’re going to kill me.” His fingers tightened in your hair as you lapped at the head, savoring the salty taste of him.

You looked up at him through your lashes, his head thrown back, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths, every muscle flexed tight. Fighting for his life to hold still.

“Baby,” he whined when you stopped, picking up his head to look down at you.

“Say your mine,” you ordered, hovering just over his cock, holding his wild-eyed gaze.

“I’m yours. I’m so fucking yours.”

You smiled and wrapped your lips around him, swallowing down as much of him as you could manage and he cried out, rough and breathless with relief. You bobbed up and down on his length, tongue pressing against the root of his cock and using your hand to stroke what you couldn’t reach, and you watched his soul leave his body.

“Baby, baby, baby,” he chanted, using your hair to lift and lower you a little faster, his control starting to falter as you pulled him apart. “Bloody hell, you’re way too good at this. What the fuck—oh saints. Your mouth feels like fucking heaven.”

You hummed in response, letting him push you further down, gagging on his length before he released you and you pulled off of him to catch your breath, a trail of drool connecting your lips and his head.

Barty groaned. “Never mind, I’m getting that tattooed. Right on my fucking forehead so every time I look in the mirror—”

You climbed back up his body and draped yourself over him, silencing him with a sloppy kiss, his tongue laving across your lips to taste himself. “Do you ever stop talking?” you teased, kissing the corner of his mouth, his cheekbone, his temple.

In a quick movement, he flipped you beneath him. “There’s one sure-fire way to shut me up,” he purred against your ear before kissing and licking down your neck and chest. Every pass of his lips was electric, a bolt of pleasure straight your weeping pussy, swollen against your panties and desperate for attention. “This dress,” he murmured, tracing the swell of your breast with his tongue. “Wear it for anyone in particular?”

“I wanted to see your reaction,” you admitted, gasping when his big hand came up to knead your tit, fingertips still a little stained from sketching. His rings were harsh against your skin, and you arched into him, relishing in his greedy touch.

“Sent me to my knees, sweetheart. Damn near killed me.” He pulled the top of you dress down, your tits spilling free, and he took one pert nipple into his mouth, lashing it with his tongue while he teased the other with his hand.

You keened, hands flying into his shaggy hair. Every pull of his mouth went straight to your cunt, making your hips buck against his thigh. He shifted to press his leg harder against you, letting you chase your pleasure, and hummed in approval against your chest.

The friction was amazing, buzzy heat spilling under your skin and making you moan and cling tighter to him, trembling with unspent energy. “Fuck, Barty—please.” You weren’t sure what you were begging for, but he seemed to understand you perfectly.

“Say your mine, treasure,” he said, biting at the side of your breast, and you yelped.

“Yes, Barty! All yours! Just please—”

He pushed two fingers into your mouth, silencing you while he shifted down your body. Without warning, he buried his face between your legs, licking and sucking at your pussy through your panties with an eagerness that made your eyes cross, your teeth sink down on his digits.

“So fucking sweet, baby. Melting like sugar f’me.” He yanked your panties down your legs and returned to his feasting, laving his long tongue through you before sucking hard at you clit. He slipped his fingers from your mouth, needing both hands to spread you open for his consumption.

Your mind was wiped clean, erased completely by all-consuming bliss as he practically mauled your pussy, vicious in his pursuit of your pleasure. His tongue fucked into you, the slurping loud and lewd, while he massaged your clit with his thumb. You dug your nails into his sheets, trying to stifle your screams into his pillow.

"So responsive, baby. Ready for more?" He asked, easing his middle finger inside of your clenching channel, curling against the gooey spot behind your pelvic bone that made you melt into the mattress. Adding a second finger, he started nursing your clit again, letting his dexterous artist’s fingers coax you open.

Once you were moaning, loose and languid against the mattress, he ramped back up, working your g-spot like it stole something from him he was hellbent on getting back. He dragged his teeth against your clit, soothing the flare of pain with his tongue, and you felt yourself draw tight, teetering on the edge of oblivion.

“Barty—oh God, I’m going to come—oh fuck, oh fuck!” You lifted almost completely off the bed as your orgasm slammed into you, ripping through sinnew and bone to consume your heart, devour you entirely.

Barty slowed his ministrations, dragging his tongue through your spasming pussy with long, lush licks, his hold tight on your thighs when you started to inch away from him, your body twitching and shaking as you came down from your high.

“That’s my treasure, so fucking gorgeous when you come for me,” he hummed, smiling against your skin, and nuzzled his nose against your clit while he withdrew his fingers, making you jump and whine. “Not so mean now, are you, sweetness?”

You shook your head, trembling and weak, completely boneless beneath him.

"So soft for me, hm?" He dragged you down the bed, throwing one of your calves over his shoulder while he swiped the head of his cock through your messy slit. “Better hold onto something, darling. You've got me at the end of my leash.”

You wrapped your hands around the bars of his headboard and he grinned, a wicked slash across his handsome face.

“Fuck, I knew you were perfect for me.” He notched his cock at your entrance and with a smooth roll of his hips, buried himself to the hilt. You both cried out, the fullness, the stretch more intense than anything you’d felt before. “I was fucking made for you, baby,” he groaned, dragging his hips back before snapping them forward, your pussy fluttering around him.

“Fuck, B, feels so good,” you mewled, rocking your hips to meet his thrust for thrust, the bed creaking loudly beneath you.

He used his hold on your elevated leg to lift your hips off the bed, ratcheting up to a punishing pace, making you scream and thrash on the bed while he fucked you with every ounce of desperation and determination he’d harbored over the last few months. His teeth sunk into your calf, hard enough to send a bolt of pain down your leg and make you cry out, heightening the pleasure radiating from your core until you were teetering on the edge again, every graze of his cockhead against your cervix winding you tighter, higher—

“Shit, baby, I’m gonna come soon,” he grunted, his thrusts growing sloppy, erratic and rough, and you could only nod. “Can feel it, tres. C’mon, babygirl, come with me. Please, need to feel you come around me, m’dying for it, please, please—”

You came with a scream, your vision whiting out as sunlight blazed through you, eviscerating every ounce of tension, trepidation, fear, and leaving you a beacon of light, nothing but giddy, delirious stardust.

“Fuck, yes, that’s it—fuck!” Barty came a heartbeat after you, the swelling and throbbing of his cock as he painted your inside white prolonging your release, wringing every drop of pleasure from you until you both collapsed onto the bed, chests heaving and sticky with sweat, the glitter from his skin decorating yours.

You reached for him, trembling and raw, and he gathered you into his chest, kissing your cheeks and forehead with a dizzying gentleness. “Barty,” you breathed, hands curling against his chest, too overwhelmed with feeling to say anything else.

“I’m yours,” he whispered, cradling your face to bring your gaze to his. “I’m yours.”

You nodded, leaning forward to kiss him, taste him again, letting the warmth of his body, the heavy beat of his heart, ground you in the reality of this moment. Barty was yours, and you were his. And you were safe. He wanted you despite your attitude, your armor, your callousness. He wanted you exactly as you were, more than happy to lay in the shadows with you, or draw you out into his light to dance.

“And I’m yours,” you breathed against his lips, and he smiled.

“I'll be right back,” he murmured, pressing a delicate kiss to your head before flying out of bed and wrenching open the door, his cock barely stuffed back into his pants. “SHE’S FUCKING MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNEEEEEEE!” He screamed down the stairs to the party.

A chorus of cheers rang out, reaching you from the common room. You buried your face into his pillow, laughter bubbling up despite the embarrassment scorching your cheeks.

Barty whirled around, a maniac’s grin on his face, and he dove back into bed, determined to stake his claim as many times as possible before sunrise.

Thank you for reading!

[lucysarah-c]

Mounting Spring Ch. 3

Summary: Paradis has opened its doors to the world, and the Rumbling has not yet occurred. The military board insists, "We need more Ackermans!" to avoid ruining Mikasa's life. Levi agrees. Arranged marriage, explicit consent, Omegaverse. Alpha! Levi x Omega! Y/N. Mentions of underage marriage but it doesn't happen, the reader is over 21.Age gap but they are both adults. (I would say enemys to lover but they don't even know eachother to be enemys lol.) Author note: I've had this idea for so long… Omegaverse is my guilty pleasure, and I decided to treat myself with it. From the creator of "Not in season?" I bring to you "Mounting Spring" lmao haha sorry it's just that my first omegaverse was rather a success… so I decided to do another. Masterlist to the previous parts! Ao3 link in case you prefer to read there!

The raindrops fell over the cobblestones, and, in particular, those falling from the gable were heavy against the small porch of the chapel where she waited. She breathed into her hands, seeking warmth as she tilted her head to the side. Now alone, she felt her curiosity begin to spark, like a cat finally let out of its carrier. 

The narrow side streets hinted at the town’s size and social standing, with only one main road that, incidentally, was the only paved one. She guessed that if the weather hadn’t been so dreary, she could have seen the end of it. Her more optimistic side blamed the weather, but the town struck her as dreadful. In the distance, her attention was drawn to the farmer who had been inside with them. 

He was talking to someone she assumed was his wife or another townsperson, with his horse beside him and a border collie patiently waiting against his leg. Eventually, both of them turned to look at her, and she stiffened under their scrutiny. 

‘Should I... wave at them? Don’t small towns know everyone? Should I start getting to know everyone?’ 

But as her mind filled with these thoughts, they turned back to talk to each other. She pressed her lips together, feeling time drag painfully. The coat over her head made her uneasy. Almost involuntarily, she took a few deep breaths, catching a faint scent in the air, and then another, more focused sniff. It felt like cheating somehow, though it wasn’t, as her nose itched from his scent, and her body seemed to process it more deeply. 

‘It’s deeper than Die...’ she thought melancholically. Perhaps it was because she hadn’t encountered many unmated alphas in her life, or at least hadn’t gotten close enough to catch their scent. ‘Well… isn’t he humanity’s strength? ...something like that. I guess it takes some strong genes to be called that.’ 

“All right.” Levi’s voice startled her, and she tensed, turning to see him. He was drenched from his search for horses but seemed to handle it with a calmness, like sheep who don’t mind the sky falling on them. His hand held the reins of two horses, and, if her mind hadn’t been elsewhere, she might have chuckled. 

The black horse was absurdly tall and elegant, while the other was a dirty white with grayish spots, shorter and with bulkier legs. 

“You can have the one I rented if you prefer,” Levi offered, handing her the reins. But she didn’t take them right away. 

“Um…” She hesitated. “Sorry. I’ve never ridden alone,” she explained. Then, feeling the need to clarify, she added, “I usually just take carts.” 

Levi quickly grasped the issue. After a brief consideration, he reached back and switched the reins. "Take mine," he said, extending the reins of the black mare instead. "She’s calm and obedient.”  Levi said, nodding toward the mare. “Scout-trained.”  

She looked at the tall, sleek horse in front of her, nerves clear on her face. He jerked his thumb at the other smaller, stocky white one. “This one, I don’t know.” 

Her hand tentatively moved forward to touch the mare’s nose. At her touch, the horse nudged forward, her dark eyes focused intently on her. The mare’s imposing size made her hesitate. “Can’t we just ride together?” 

Levi, double-checking the saddle, looked back and replied firmly, “No. Too much mud on the way. I don’t want to put extra weight on her.” 

When he finished adjusting the saddle, he held out his arm, gesturing for her to step closer. He gave her a once-over and instructed, “Take the cloak underneath. No point in wearing it now that it’s soaked.” 

‘Well… he does enjoy giving orders,’ she thought. 

Feeling self-conscious under his observant gaze, she removed his coat, then unfastened her cloak, which was heavy and sodden. Her cheeks flushed as she noticed the white dress beneath was now damp and clung uncomfortably. She quickly ran her hands over her arms, trying to cover up, but Levi moved smoothly, placing his coat back over her shoulders before tossing the soaked cloak over the mare’s back. 

She took her position beside the mare, gripping the saddle, though her uncertainty was plain. “But… with my dress and that saddle, it’ll be difficult to ride with my legs on the side.” 

“Ride with your legs apart.” 

She looked over her shoulder at him as he moved to help her up. Despite his short height, he hoisted her up smoothly onto the mare. She was perched high above him now, gripping the reins and feeling the unfamiliar weight of control. Levi stepped back and gave her a once-over, as though to make sure she was seated safely. 

“This isn’t very ladylike,” she murmured, her voice carrying a note of unease as the powerful animal shifted beneath her. 

Levi raised an eyebrow, still maintaining his stoic look but with a glint of dry humor breaking through. “Well,” he said, his voice calm and low, “I’m the husband now, and I don’t mind it.” 

But the silence that followed told him all he needed to know: she didn’t find it funny. 

“Just hold steady,” he advised, placing a hand on the mare’s neck in an almost fatherly pat. “She’s been through rougher trips than this.” 

The mare, as if responding to his touch, lowered her head, brushing her soft nose against his hair and disheveling it slightly, so that her dark fur mingled with his equally raven locks. 

With that, he took the reins and knotted them to the other horse and swung himself up with practiced ease, barely flinching at the wet leather. It struck her that he was completely in his element, as if he belonged here in this bleak weather and muddy roads, as if he barely noticed the discomfort. 

The rain pattered steadily, its soft murmur filling the quiet as Levi guided his horse through the thickening gloom of the forest. Her soaked white cloak hung limply from the horse’s saddle. The water on it was counterproductive to keep the warmth, so she took it off. The green trench coat pulled over her head helped more, but it was far from miraculous. Despite the rain, a thick fog was rising as they left the small countryside town and ventured deeper into the forest. Soon, the cobblestones ended, leaving the horses to trudge through thick mud. The road became nearly invisible just a few steps ahead, and she cast a nervous glance at the forest, which seemed to stretch on endlessly. 

“Captain… shouldn’t we wait? It’s getting dark, and it could be dangerous,” she murmured, eyeing the shifting shadows between the trees. 

Levi’s response was firm, almost cutting. “I told you to call me Levi, and don’t worry.” His tone was as sharp as his gaze ahead. She wasn’t convinced, her brows knitting together in silent protest. Y/N clung tightly to the saddle of the black mare Levi had called his own. His raven hair stuck to his forehead as the rain poured mercilessly on him without his trench coat. When she pressed again, “But—” he cut her off. 

“I wouldn’t do anything dangerous,” he declared, his tone allowing no debate. “If I say it’s safe, it’s safe. Understood?” 

She murmured a reluctant hum, clearly displeased, but he glanced back over his shoulder, eyes piercing. “I didn’t hear you.” 

She swallowed, muttering low, “Understood.” The word fell with barely concealed disdain, and under her breath, she added with a hint of defiance, “…sir.” 

‘He said it wasn’t that far...’ but as they continued, it became clear that the headquarters weren’t close by. 

Each step the horse took forward felt like moving deeper into an enclosure, further away from family and friends. Eventually, the rocky forest path opened onto the scouts' rustic facility—a large training field of neatly trimmed grass and a main building looming in the darkness, with smaller buildings in the back. She squinted, barely able to make them out through the thick fog but guessed they might be the barracks, possibly separated by gender. 

She thought they would stop at the main doors, but Levi guided the horses further. The place overwhelmed her—she didn’t know where to look, and the quietness, at least from the outside, only made her more curious. 

“Where is everyone?” she asked. 

Levi looked around the quiet training grounds. “It’s late. Most of the soldiers are in the mess hall for dinner or getting ready for curfew,” he explained, his eyes sweeping the area with practiced vigilance. “Especially in this shitty weather.” 

He dismounted near a back entrance, which seemed to be a service area littered with discarded training materials. When the horses stopped, she moved to dismount, glancing down to gauge the distance to the ground. 

“Need help?” he asked, already striding over with firm steps, his boots far better equipped for the weather than hers. He positioned himself behind her and said, “Let go, I got you.” 

With his hands under her arms, he lifted her down with surprising ease. She turned quickly to face him, but he just said, “Stay here. I’ll put the horses away.” before she could protest. 

Though Levi’s presence didn’t exactly warm the atmosphere, his absence made the cold settle in even deeper. She shifted uncomfortably, her gaze darting around hectic —taking in the swaying trees under t the gusting wind, the flashes of lightning splitting the clouds. While the rain had momentarily stopped on the way back, it was obvious it wasn’t over. The forest sounds felt ominous in the dark, with only dim light illuminating the semi-open area at the back of the building. 

‘I feel like a doe... in the middle of a meadow.’ 

Ignoring Levi’s instruction, she opened the door and stepped inside. She glanced down both ends of the corridor, where yellowish candlelight cast a warm glow. The hum of distant voices filled the air, and she wrinkled her nose in distaste. ‘It stinks.’ 

It reeked of alphas—too many of them. Down the corridor to her left, she saw two young women, a brunette and a dark-haired one, passing by. The brunette noticed her standing in the hallway and looked back with a puzzled expression. 

‘Alright, maybe this time I should actually introduce myself.’ 

She raised a hand slightly, giving a tentative wave, but the brunette turned, calling out to someone— 

“I thought I told you to stay there.” Levi’s voice cut in from behind, firm with a trace of irritation as he locked the back door. Without further comment, he led her up a nearby staircase, his movements swift and purposeful. 

“But—” she started to object, glancing to the side, but he was already nudging her forward. His hand hovered at her back, as if nudging her without physically touching her, more a mental command than a physical push. 

As they ascended the stairs, Sasha, a brunette at the far end of the corridor, tugged on Jean and Connie’s arms. “See, she’s there!” she exclaimed. But when the three of them looked down the hall, no one was there—only a trail of muddy footprints. 

“...She was there,” Sasha insisted. 

Jean shot her a skeptical look. “Sasha, are you that hungry you’re seeing things... again?” 

Sasha frowned, clearly annoyed. “I saw her! I might be hungry, but I’m not imagining things.” 

“Well, she’s not there now, that’s for sure,” Connie said, stretching his arms behind his head. “Maybe a ghost?” 

“A suicidal one,” Jean added dryly. “Only higher-ups use the back door. And if Captain Levi sees that mud, he’d probably drag out a Ouija board just to kick that ghost’s ass for dirtying his floors.” 

Sasha and Connie started to walk away, but Jean paused, wrinkling his nose and sniffing the air with a puzzled expression. “...I do smell something strange, though.” 

Sasha and Connie shrugged, both of them betas, unable to pick up on any scent. But Mikasa, overhearing, joined them, her dark eyes narrowing. “Jasmine, berries, and coconut milk.” 

Jean shot her a smirk. “Well, I did switch to a new cologne…” 

But Mikasa ignored him, already walking ahead with a thoughtful expression, leaving Jean to trail off, his attempt at humor forgotten. 

As they moved through the winding corridors, she struggled to keep pace. Levi’s stride was steady and brisk, his attention fixed forward, but after a few glances back, he seemed to notice her struggle. With a subtle sigh, he slowed his pace focusing on her feet to match her pace.  

As he did so, he couldn’t help but notice the trail of mud they were leaving behind. Each footprint was a smear of damp earth and grime on the clean floor. His jaw tightened, and he clicked his tongue in irritation. ‘Focus on the important shit,’ he reminded himself. 

Reaching the door to his chambers, he patted his trousers absently, then checked the pockets of his uniform jacket. His brow creased in mild annoyance before he remembered: ‘The keys are in my coat.’ 

He moved closer to her, his face showing a rare hint of apology. “Sorry,” he murmured, reaching into the pockets of the coat she wore. She held still as he fished around, finally pulling out the key with a subtle nod. 

Before turning the key in the lock, he looked down at her shoes, now caked in mud. 

“Wait,” he muttered, holding a hand up. He gestured to her shoes with a short nod. “Shoes off,” he instructed, bending to remove his own boots first, leaving them by the doorway. She followed suit, slipping off her mud-caked shoes, which felt heavier with every step. 

She hesitated, glancing at the mud-covered shoes, but then leaned against the wall to remove her shoes. He did the same, tugging off his own boots and setting them neatly to the side. Once they were both ready, he unlocked the door and pushed it open, holding it for her to step inside. 

To be honest, she couldn’t say she was disappointed—her journey to his office had shown her this wasn’t the marriage she’d imagined. She’d heard the Scouts were… humble people. ‘A sweet way to call them low class,’ she thought wryly, fiddling with her loose ring, trying to keep it from slipping off her finger. Part of her almost wished the room would stay dark so she wouldn’t have to face reality, while another part hoped for a glimmer of candlelight to surprise her for the better. 

Levi shut the door behind him with a subtle sigh, closing his eyes briefly, as if gathering strength from somewhere unknown. ‘One task down,’ he reminded himself, as if safely getting her to the Scout headquarters unnoticed was his toughest mission yet. He shrugged off his uniform jacket and hung it on the coat rack by the door. 

She stood, frozen in place, as he walked past her, lighting a few candles he’d set up earlier. He busied himself lighting more, methodically checking off tasks from his mental to-do list. “Why don’t you take a shower? The water should be warm,” he suggested. 

‘And... here it is,’ she thought, her pupils darting around the room as though afraid to turn her head, scanning the place as the light started to fill it. She tried to hide her discomfort, not so much from a lack of hygiene as from a lack of warmth. Catching his eyes on her, she forced a thin smile. “Very... modest.” 

‘…Empty and rustic, but the last thing I want to find out is what he’s like when he’s mad.’ 

The room had only two doors: one, she guessed, led to a small bathroom, and the other to the bedroom. The main space was an office with a single shelf filled with books and not much else. ‘Doesn’t he have paintings or decorations?’ She found herself searching for anything that might make the space feel less austere and more homely, something to give her a glimpse of who he was. The office seemed to be the most furnished part of the quarters, with a set of sofas, a coffee table by the fireplace, and a desk. The large arched window was probably his only indulgence, a feature suggesting he spent most of his time here. 

“Shower?” Levi insisted, “Don’t take it personally, but I’d like to shower too.” 

That snapped her out of her trance. “Oh—sure,” in a small voice. “Um... where did you put my luggage?” 

Levi’s brow furrowed, and after a moment, he realized he hadn’t noticed her lack of belongings. “Was I supposed to have it?” he replied, answering her question with another—not a habit of his. 

“I sent it ahead, two days ago,” she explained, “They told me it would be best.” 

His eyes flicked to the window and the rain still pouring down outside. ‘Well… I think it’s pretty clear why that didn’t arrive yet.’ 

With a weary sigh, Levi leaned against his desk, one hand running over his damp hair. He looked worn out, both physically and emotionally. “This is a rural area,” he said, “and with this rain, it could take a few more days. A cart wouldn’t make it through the forest right now.” 

Levi stepped over to his bedroom, opened a few drawers, and, without moving from her spot, she couldn’t resist sneaking a look. She leaned forward, trying to get a glimpse over the door frame. 

She couldn’t see much, but curiosity stretched her mouth open as she craned her neck. A chest of drawers held neatly folded clothes, a couple of books stacked on top, and a wardrobe nearby had boxes on top that reached the ceiling (probably he used it as storage) with boots lined up beneath it. There was a standing mirror in one corner and she could only see the wood footboard of a small bed against the wall. 

“Here, you can—” Levi turned back toward her, catching her in the act of peeking. She straightened up quickly, feigning innocence. He raised an eyebrow at her obvious interest. “It’s not as if it’s off-limits. Walk in if you want.” 

‘Like a dog caught digging through the trash,’ he thought, mildly amused by her guilty expression. 

“Anyway, here.” He handed her some clothes. “The rest is in the bathroom.” 

She took them with a distracted nod, disappearing behind the bathroom door. 

“Ah...” He let out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding as he let himself collapse, boneless, into his desk chair. His hair was soaked, as was the rest of him, but he didn’t care. “A moment of silence.” 

Though she hadn’t said much, her silence was somehow louder than any words. Covering his eyes with his forearm, he felt drained—he’d been through expeditions to retake Wall Maria, yet this felt just as exhausting. But as always, Levi quickly pushed himself back up, pressing the bridge of his nose to calm the headache beginning to throb behind his eyes, and moved on. 

“I don’t have time to slack off,” he grunted to himself. He didn’t have much firewood left—it had been an unusually warm spring until today, and firewood was a luxury he was used to being frugal with, like nearly everything else in his life. 

'She should probably dry her hair before bed,' he thought, setting a kettle of water on in case she wanted tea. He considered making himself a cup but, as “going to bed” crossed his mind, the idea shifted to the liquor he had stashed in a cabinet. He poured himself a small glass, not intending to get drunk, but needing something that soothed him better than his usual caffeine. 

The fire began warming the room, and he placed his coat and jacket near it. He stepped outside briefly to bring in their shoes, cleaning them off and setting them to dry. The kettle’s whistle echoed in the quiet room, and he took it off the heat. That’s when a thought began to bother him. 

‘Should I check?’ He found himself near the bathroom door, ear pressed against it, straining to hear any sign of life. ‘What if she passed out in there?... or maybe she’s just constipated and can’t take a shit’ 

Knocking softly, he asked, “You okay in there?” 

“Yes, sorry.” 

Relieved but mildly exasperated, he shook his head. She’s using up all the water in the place, he thought, realizing she’d definitely not adapted to the military’s five-minute shower rule. 

Inside the bathroom, she was struggling to detangle her hair, but there was no conditioner, no hair mask, or anything remotely helpful. Her skin felt dry without any lotion, slightly raw from the harsh soap he had. Her hair smelled vaguely like cucumber, a tangled mess that only worsened under her frustrated attempts. 

“We are not going to cry, we are not going to cry,” she kept whispering to herself in front of the mirror. 

‘This was supposed to be my wedding night,’ 

For as long as she could remember, she had dreamed of her fiancé slowly, reverently helping her out of her wedding dress—a dress chosen just for him. She’d imagined him finally seeing her, her skin soft, her scent sweet enough to eat, a blend of lotion, perfume, everything. 

Instead, here she was, struggling with tangled hair and an uncooperative brush, her mascara still on because there was no makeup remover, wearing a baggy T-shirt and gray sweatpants, smelling like some generic soap, with her wedding dress stuffed in a dirty laundry basket. 

A million questions rushed through her mind. ‘What do I do?… Should I just lay there and let him do whatever he wants?’ ‘Is it going to hurt?’ ‘Would he force me to do something?’ 

“I could lock myself in here forever,” she reasoned, gripping the doorknob. ‘…Or could I?’ 

But eventually, she stepped out cautiously, slowly opening the door. He was sitting with his back to her, watching the fire from one of the couches. When he sensed her presence, he glanced over his shoulder. “Finally. For a moment, I thought you drowned in there.” 

Eyes downcast, she muttered, “Sorry.” 

Levi clicked his tongue. “It was a joke,” he grunted, feeling like nothing he said made the situation any less awkward. 

Levi noticed her standing there, looking unsure and uncomfortable, and with a small sigh, he gestured toward the couch. "Sit down," he said, his tone a bit softer than usual. "Dry up. It's cold in here." 

She hesitated but finally obeyed, slowly lowering herself onto the couch, her hands still clinging to her damp hair. Levi awkwardly stood for a moment, unsure of what to do next, before clearing his throat before speaking again. 

"Do you want something to eat? I can go see if there’s anything left from dinner," he asked awkwardly, already knowing she hadn’t eaten since the long journey. 

She didn’t reply immediately, only giving a soft hum as her response. Levi looked over his shoulder, brow furrowed.  

"That’s a no, then?" he muttered, then shifted his weight and walked to the desk. He leaned against it, sipping from his glass.  

"Fine," he muttered, “but I prefer when people actually answer me with words.” 

She didn’t respond. He glanced over at her, then added, “You sure? I can bring something. I don’t mind.” 

"No, thank you," she replied, her voice quiet but clear. 

Levi let out a small grunt of acknowledgment, not wanting to push her. He felt an odd tension in the air as he took another sip from his drink. “Alright then.” He paused before offering, "Tea, maybe?” 

"No, thank you." Her voice was quiet, distant. 

Levi exhaled a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his wet hair as he tried to focus on the fire.  

The tension lingered in the air, and after a moment, she spoke again, breaking the silence.  

"When do you think my things will arrive?" she asked, a note of uncertainty in her voice. 

Levi glanced at her, "Could take a while. The roads are bad, especially with this weather." He paused, his eyes meeting hers for a moment before continuing. "But if you need anything urgently, just tell me." 

She hesitated, her eyes darting away. Levi frowned slightly, sensing she was holding something back. He was starting to feel a little impatient. 

"Are you still on the rags?" he asked bluntly, unable to ignore the subtle discomfort in the way she fidgeted. "Need something for that?" 

Her eyes widened, a blush creeping across her face as she looked away, clearly embarrassed by the question. She seemed to shrink under his gaze, her shoulders stiffening.  

"I-I’m fine," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Levi raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced by her answer. He didn’t know her well enough to be sure, but he was certain that something was off. He wasn’t about to let her go without offering help, though. 

"Look, if you need anything, just say it." He rubbed the back of his neck, his voice softening slightly, “I can be named humanity’s strongest and all that bullshit but I’m not a mind reader,” 

She didn’t meet his eyes, still hesitant, but Levi stood still, waiting for her to speak. ‘There’s no point dragging this out any longer,’ she decided. 

“No, uh—” she chose her words carefully, “I’m over it.” 

Levi still seemed confused, so she clarified, her face growing redder by the second. “I’m... ready for you… whenever you tell me.” 

Her words dropped into the room like the cannonballs once used to break titans’ necks. Levi’s first thought, admittedly, wasn’t his most noble: ‘So... she thinks people don’t fuck when women are bleeding or?’ 

Lost in his thoughts and the awkwardness of the moment, he didn’t notice how she bit her lip, glancing up at him shyly. “Just—please, don’t be too rough on me.” 

Captain Levi always had a comeback, a retort, a dry response. But now, he only pressed his fingers against his glass, eyes locked with hers, lips parted as if to speak but words caught in the back of his throat. Across his life, he’d seen people look at him in many ways—admiration, anger, pity, fear—but hers was different. Her eyes, reflective and tinged red, stared up at him with something close to terror. A terror filled with pure resignation, pleading him.  

His jaw tightened, and he felt a knot form in his throat. ‘I’m going to make those bastards pay for this,’ He broke eye contact, turning his head and squeezing his eyes shut.

It was painful, painful for him to think someone could look at him like that. To see him as someone who might treat her as an object, begging him that at least, if he was going to do that, not to be a brute about it. But the worst part, the thought that clenched his throat even more was: ‘Like my mother…’ 

The room felt silent except for the branches scratching against the window in the storm outside and the flickering firelight. He forced his voice to sound steady. “Just go to bed.” 

“Huh?” she asked, confused. “...Should I...wait for you there?” 

Levi shook his head. “I can’t do it. Just go to bed. You look like shit.” 

He wasn’t known for being the best communicator, and his words often got lost in translation.  She blinked, panic rising in her eyes. “I’m...not pretty enough? I tried to look my best—I didn’t mean to disappoint. Please, don’t call this off…” 

The thought of being sent back as a failure made her stomach turn. Her family, her younger sisters, her grandmother—they all depended on her. 

Levi raised his hand, stopping her mid-sentence. “Oi, oi, relax. I didn’t mean that—damn it! I meant you look tired.” 

“But—” she hesitated, moving a step toward him but keeping her distance. 

“Shit,” he muttered, his cheeks warming slightly. “It has nothing to do with that.” 

Her confusion was clear, so he forced himself to say it: “You’re...pretty, alright? That’s not the issue.” 

She still looked uncertain. “If you don’t…claim me…what will people say?” she asked. “People will look down on you as a soldier, as a man...as an alpha.” 

Levi chuckled, though he didn’t mean it. “Well, one good thing about who I am is that everyone’s too scared to say anything to my face,” he replied, almost gently. “I just can’t—not while you’re this scared.” 

The truth hung in the air, and she resumed fidgeting with her ring, frowning as she looked at the carpet and her voice grew quieter. “What if…I never want to?” 

Levi shrugged, too tired to pretend. “Then I guess we’ll wait until next spring when we’re both so damn drunk on hormones, you’ll be begging for it, and neither of us will remember it.” 

"Spring?" she echoed, her caution mixed with disbelief. "But that’s a long wait..." 

“Oh, well,” he said, with a dry humor, “we’ll just have to try not to kill each other in the meantime.” He gestured to the room. “Go to bed.” 

"Where will you sleep?" she asked, then added, almost disappointed, "Do you... have someone else?" 

Not that she was jealous, but she’d heard that “a good wife always knows.” 

This time, the question made Levi scoff, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. “Good one. No, I don’t. I don’t even use the bed—I sleep at my desk.” 

‘That can’t be healthy,’ she thought, grimacing. But, like a mouse just freed by a cat, she walked cautiously toward the bedroom, unsure if this escape was real. That can’t be healthy, she thought with a grimace of disapproval. But with hesitant steps, like a mouse released from a cat’s grip, she headed toward the room, still unsure how real this escape was. 

Levi finished his drink, then readied himself to take his own shower, thinking, ‘It’s going to be a long, tense wait until next spring.’ 

A wait filled with mounting anxiety. 

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hannieslovebot @flxrartsstuff @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @searriously @blackdxggr @storiesofsung @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-angel @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[demonic0angel]

(for the dpxdc city spirits)

so im not really familiar with the places in gotham, but i had a couple ideas for ellies place when u said maybe the batmobile could work

so she likes travel right? so the batmobiles actually a good idea but what if she was like gotham underground or something?? like all the trains and travel systems--

though, im not sure if thats even a thing lmfao so i also thought what are the main places i DO know are in gotham? theres arkham, crime alley but then also the place where jason died-- that uhhh funhouse place. and i thought maybe thats cool? bc shes the childish/fun one. and then i got a bit sad cuz maybe jason would wonder why ellie didnt save him but i realised shes the youngest so that explains it? but maybe she also attached herself onto the hope that he lost when he died-- like all that emotion stayed in his death place and so shes still able to embody hope like that one ask mentioned lol

sorry this got super lol but yeh just ideas -w-""

Ooh okay, okay, I’m glad you see my vision with Dani as the Batmobile spirit XD

I’m not too sure on the Funhouse place, since I’m pretty sure that Jason died in Ethiopia? Or at least, that’s the canon that I use, not too sure bc sometimes, he doesn’t even die.

I also like the trains and travel systems idea, but the problem I have is that I want it to be a place where she can interact with the Bats if necessary (like how Danny is all of Gotham and Jazz is all of Crime Alley), so I want it to be a place/object that they frequently see and tbh, I haven’t seen them use the subway a lot. I do like the idea of her being part of a big system that can take her a lot of places tho! (But probably not the sewers bc I think she’d hate it.)

I feel like I’m liking the idea of the Batmobile more and more bc it’s considerably smaller than Gotham City and Crime Alley (kinda showing that she’s a weaker spirit), travels a lot, was a big help to many people (in getting Batman places to help), and was also how Batman first met Jason. I think something fast and freeing like the Batmobile is kinda fun for Dani, since the Batsignal is taken by Duke.

Ty to your suggestions tho, I appreciate it so tysm!! :DD

[queenie-avenue]

Ok hear me out👉👈

Katie finding out (in this case she got friendzoned LOL) that Reader is in a relationship with someone else?? How do u think she takes it??

I've been such a lurker for quite some time and i love ur content sm 🥺🥺🥺🥺 *sending kisses*

Rejection is never the End.

💌 ⤻ THE CHEERLEADER, KATIE WILLIAMS

—> she won't ever give up on you.

⤻ reader is gender neutral, reader has a girlfriend, no cheating, manipulation, possessiveness, obsession, typical yandere behaviour, gaslighting, reader gets drunk and katie takes advantage of her

notes: thank you so much for the ask, I'm so sorry it's taken so long for me to get to this!! no proof-reading, we die.

🦋⤻ archives.

If you have a significant other, Katie will no doubt be furious, especially if you reveal it to her just when she decided to confess to you, of all things. She will be pissed off, but will just smile at you and pretend that everything is a-okay. You wouldn't even suspect a thing.

Sure, at first it'd be awkward with you and her drifting just a bit — which causes her to almost have a meltdown and abandon her cheer captain duties for a while — but eventually after a month of two, you both would go back to normal.

The difference would be that now she had access to your relationship status.

And boy, would she make use of it.

Out of consideration for her feelings, you'd of course not talk much about your significant other but Katie, Katie wanted to know.

It started small, she liked to visit your dorm normally so it was a usual day of her coming to see you after cheer practice in her short shorts and pink t-shirts.

“Oh, those flowers are so cute, did your girlfriend get them for you?” Katie asked, lounging on your desk as she stroked the petals of the bouquet filled with your favourite flowers. “They are so pretty!” She squealed, grinning at you as you sat on your bed.

“Yeah, my girlfriend came over just the other day. It was fun.” You smiled back, wanting to keep details of your beau brief out of respect and love for Katie.

“Does she get you flowers often?” Katie inquired, eyes fixated on the flowers, back turned to you now.

“Not really. It was just a special occasion yesterday, our one year anniversary.” You exclaimed, clearly giddy about the fact you had been together with your girlfriend for a year.

“Fun.” She replied, tutting her plump lips. “So, why didn't I know about her? I mean, you showed me pictures once but you don't really tall about her that much.” Katie commented as she leaned towards you.

“We don't talk about our relationship much…” You mumbled. “I mean- she's like secretive about it. So not a lot of people know.” You shrugged your shoulders awkwardly. Oh, [y/n], you really were such a horrible liar. Katie could tell in an instant that the idea of you relationship being kept secret made you antsy, uncomfortable. If it were *her* that was your girlfriend, she'd be parading you around proudly. Why couldn't you see that?

“Huh.” She huffed, eyeing you up and down.

That was how it started.

She made use of your insecurities about your relationship with your girlfriend and weaponised them against you. Slowly, you grew more worried about whether the reason your girlfriend didn't want to reveal your relationship was because she wasn't proud to be with you, or she wasn't committed to being with you or worst, that she was being unfaithful towards you. Katie didn't help matters, subtly showing you those stupid YouTube shorts with reddit stories that talked about how people who didn't make their relationships known typically cheated on their partners.

You slowly spiralled into madness, growing resentful of your girlfriend and more appreciative of Katie. Eventually, you would break it off with your girlfriend when things became too hard for the both of you.

You kept starting arguments with your girlfriend over why she wanted to keep the relationship a secret, you became too needy for her validation and she was annoyed with you constantly picking fights with her and also your budding relationship with Katie who seemed to find a way to antagonise your girlfriend every single time. Katie egged you on, overanalysing each word your girlfriend said or texted to you and reporting what she thought back to you. Most of which just made you view your girlfriend in a horrible light.

Eventually, you broke up with your girlfriend.

Just like Katie wanted.

She would soon swoop in to comfort you, tell you that it wasn't your fault that the relationship didn't work. Your girlfriend was the red flag, you didn't do anything wrong!

“Come on, pom-pom. Cheer up, you'll find someone much better than her. You were too good for her ass anyway.” Smiled Katie as she dragged you for a night of partying at a fraternity.

You got wasted, of course; attempting to drown out the sorrow of your freshly opened wounds.

Katie's hand snaked around your waist as you danced to the beat of the music, the loud thumps banging loudly in your ear as you drunkenly relied on the cheerleader for support. Before you knew it, the dancing morphed into Katie pulling you into the bathroom, your legs wrapped around her waist as she leaned closer into you, both sat on the counter of the toilet. The vague sounds of people banging the door outside as you both gazed into each others’ eyes. “You feeling better?” She asked, dark eyes looking into yours intensely.

“I… I still miss her.” You slurred, slumping your body into Katie's neck, letting out a dry sob. The cheerleader hummed as she placed a hand on your waist, another under your chin.

“You don't need to think about her anymore, okay? I'm here for you.” She pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

Katie knew that you loved her, everyone did. It's just that your girlfriend was in the way. Now that she's not, you can be devoted to loving her, and only her.

[noramthe]

Book 7 thoughts(spoilers ofc👀)

God i finally caught up with this book i have been putting it off because lilia is one of my favorite characters I couldn’t handle seeing the implication that he’s going to die and the diasomnia family's reaction to it

But i finally recovered and steeled myself to be able to continue this chapter

God poor silver he definitely was going through it this whole book please give this man a break.

I teared up (and even cried) at all the moments he was crying on🥹 PLS NO MORE I HAVE NO MORE TEARS TO GIVE

gotta say i enjoyed knowing more about silver and sebek and how they get to know each other and how their relationship is like

They feel like such opposite but have a little of similarities? If this makes sense lol

I loved sebek's confrontation to silver when silver discovered the truth! It shows how much he cared. And honestly it was kinda funny silver crying and saying that lilia must have hated him and then sebek just goes

“…

…

BAKA MONOOOOOOOOOOO”

I was so emotional and then when sebek screamed it cracked me up LMAOO😭😭 never change sebek lol

Also someone said this and it always makes me cry that what set off malleus to overblot is when silver cried on front of him. That’s when he thought to let everyone sleep and make them dream of their ideal life. Just how much everyone in this dorm cares about each other💔💔 it hurts sm aghh

Gotta say tho diasomnia fans winning we get to know SO MUCH about them. I especially enjoyed getting all these chapters about lilia's past I’m so glad we get to see the things he went through!! The fact that he was involved in everyone's (from diasomnia) childhood and how he grew and changed his mindset on certain things🥺 i want to hug him he didn’t deserve all the hardships😔😔

I cried sm here holy shi-

I can’t. Way to break my heart💔💔

It’s so intense that this is the moment he was the most happiest after everything holy hell🫠 (don’t get me started that he gave him some of his magic AND lifespan to hatch and how malleus got pissed when he knew about it AGHH)

That reminded me when lilia screamed malleus’s name right before he overbloted. That gave me the chills god I can’t get over it. It’s the fact that he couldn’t do anything about it..💔

I’m so excited for the next part and what they’re cooking up. Seeing lilia, malleus and baby silver intreaction were so precious🥹🥹 the fact that the accessory we see in lilia's room in the beginning was amade by silver when he was young??? And how much lilia treasured it?? JDJSJJSJDSJKSDJJDSJ

Even though i cried multiple times i still enjoyed these parts of the book a lot and it showed me that there is still hope that things will get better. Looking forward for the next part(which will release this month) to see ignihyde's involvement on this book? Maybe?

Things I screenshoted

ACE AND DEUCE BEING SO CONSIDERATE AND CARING FOR YUU AGAHAHHAH I CANNOT☹️☹️ EVERY DAY MY LOVE FOR HEARTSLABYUL GROWS STRONGER

💔💔💔🥺

God please stop hurting me🥺🥺

The voice actor did a good job here i still can’t get his scream out of my mind omg

Maleanor casually makes me cry on her first appearance. Thanks queen🫠

Do i even need to talk🥺🥺🥺

Silver deserves all the hugs🫂🫂 babyy i feel so bad for him🥹

And that’s it!

I am sure I probably have more to say but forgot lol

[aluria-sevhex]

THE KING FUCKING ONE-SHOT ME

notes:

-why am i being so anxious lol. if i die i can loop again it's fine

-i love this game's music

-wtf is the stuff all over the place and the gate

-i love how when Sif forgets terms for stuff like the kiln the others will remind him

-a mirror...

-"everyone say fromage!" F R O N C H

-Siffrin has a lot of pocket space

-aw, Odile's eyes light up when she's learning things

-woah this Sadness is just giant hands

-I FOUND MIRA'S ROOM

-ooo Mirabelle likes horror

-the barrels. are EVERYWHERE

-discussion of crafting your body has led to the wonderful sentence "High heels hurt my feetsies..." thanks Isabeau

-woah Sif's cloak is magic

-Isabeau's so considerate of the fact that Sif doesn't like being touched :]

-ok where the fuck is Siffrin from and how did they get the cloak

-FUCK. LOOP KNOWLEDGE BLUNDER

--aw that's kinda cute how Odile will ask questions about stuff she already knows to get the emotional component

-huh. this gate has weird writing that they can't read. and the gate looks like... stars... hmmmmmmmm

-CREST TIME

-i picked the wrong way :( WELP TIME TO EXPLORE THIS ROOM

-ah yes the "handsome young men falling into beautiful heartbreaking madness" horror anthology

-THE SCHADENFREUDE!!!!!!!!!

-openphrase123

lol

-aight i'm looping now

-um. Loop. what would happen if you saw the others

-what's up with that book Bonnie was reading...

-WAIT FUCK I MEANT TO CHECK THE LOCKED HOUSES I'M GONNA HAVE TO LOOP AGAIN

-the world would be inside of the universe...

-yeah i can't be assed to search the entire House for the book rn that's like 2 floors i've cleared. i'm looping forward.

-the little nodding Siffrin when he zones out is cute

-woah. observatory...

-hmmmm Mira can't remember who studied in the observatory. maybe this is tied to Loop? or the starry gate? or the disappearing island?

-trying to read the books gives you a headache

-istg this is some Gaster shit

-COLOR? WAIT THE WORLD IS MONOCHROME. HOW IS THERE A BOOK ON COLOR THEORY

-Siffrin where the fuck are you from

-welp. looping time

-lol the crying key is in the super duper cool notebook

WAIT THAT'S A MEAN THING TO DO. THE GAME IS BEING MEAN LMAO

-loop-de-doop-de-doop

-might as well go do some things in Dormont if i'm looping anyway

-ok time to loop forward to floor 2

-uh-oh. Sif is having a crisis over not being good at their job. :(

-looping forwards. round and round and round we go...

-"if you hadn't picked up the key wouldn't we be stuck?"

Live Siffrin reaction: (Yes.)

-lol bathroom break. fictional characters NEVER go to the bathroom

-Sif whaddya need to do alone?

-lol

-Sif is SO glad to have the loops

-:0 intact Change God statue

-KEYKNIFE

-what the- they got teleported! this is sus...

-feel like the bit where Sif laments the loss of the keyknife and thinks they could've found another use for it might be foreshadowing...

-FUCK FUCK FUCK MIRA IS KO

-fml Odile is the only one left standing

-first game over damn

-jesus fucking christ this is a bleak game over screen

-is he gonna finish himself off

-fuck that's bleak

-ok he finished the Sadness off

-WAIT DO I HAVE TO GO THRU FLOOR 3 *AGAIN*??? THIS IS BULLSHIT

-grinding for exp

-had to go to dinner. back

-it's nice when Bonnie gets to deal the final blow :]

-time to try again!

-I DID IT :D

-uh-oh. Mira is freaking out at the sight of another frozen person :(

-oh her roommate :(

-Mirabelle you're not useless :(

-HOLD UP. THE *HEAD HOUSEMAIDEN* GAVE MIRABELLE THE ABILITY TO NOT GET FROZEN?

-hehe Odile is hungry. SNACK TIME... maybe *i* should eat more.

-love how crab is used like a swear word

-Siffrin's like "i"m fine!" and i'm like "ARE you?"

-hey King why do you have stars on your gauntlets

-THE KING JUST REFERENCED SIF SPECIFICALLY?

-...what does he need to remember...

-Siffrin is sus

-DID HE JUST FUCKING 1-HIT US?

-this is one hell of a game over

[mah-t-wordblog]

Demon Slayers HEADCANONS

~ Kamaboko Squad ~

This headcanon is originally in Portuguese, my English is translated using an automatic translator, if there are any big errors you can tell me so I can fix them 💛💛

Tanjiro Kamado ☀️💦☀️💦☀️💦☀️💦☀️💦

80% ler / 20% lee

Ler:

- Tanjiro often tickles people to make them happy and feel better, like that's obvious

- He loves to emphasize how beautiful someone's smile is

- Never tickle too hard because he don't have enough thought for it and feel sorry for everyone

- Love to provoke others so that they blush

- His big brother instinct makes him ruthless when he has to chase someone or arrest them

- Favorites lees: Nezuko, Kanao, Zenitsu and Inosuke obviously (I feel like he would tickle Tokito too because he deserves to smile)

- “What a beautiful smile~ I didn’t know you could do it”

Lee:

- Tanjiro feels considerable ticklishness. Sensitive 80/100

- And he likes to feel ticklish skksksks

- Sometimes he asks Nezuko to tickle him a little just to make him feel better

- Several people know that he likes to be tickled and like to tickle him

- Normally during his missions

- Weakest points: sides

- Teasing that catches him: “imagine if an oni discovered that you were so ticklish? You would die”

Nezuko Kamado 🌸🌺🌸🌺🌸🌺 🌸🌺🌸

20% ler / 80% lee

Ler:

- Nezuko loves to tickle others when she thinks they are annoying her brother, or when they are sad

- Her claws hurt a little, but she learned to please her brother without hurting him

- When she was human, she loved tickling her little brothers to punish them or just to please them

- His claws have a great effect on Tanjiro as the gentle tickles are the worst for him

- Your favorite lee is just Tanjiro

- Don't tease, she kind of doesn't talk lol

Lee:

- Nezuko is just a cute little baby, 80/100

- She loves when her brother tickles her and she laughs and squirms on the floor

- Another person who finds her super cute when she's tickled is Mitsuri, the hashira loves to make her laugh and see her smile

- Zenitsu also attacks her and she obviously loves it, but he's a bit exaggerated lol

- Weakest points: belly and neck

- Teasing that gets her: “you’re the cutest, Nezuko”

Zenitsu Agatsuma ⚡️😭⚡️😭⚡️😭 ⚡️😭

50% ler / 50% lee

Ler:

- Somehow good at tickling

- When I look at his face I think it's clear that he likes to come up behind people and attack them

- He's not that strong, but he uses everything he has to get on top of someone and leaves them immobilized

- Often attacks others to punish them, especially when he finds Tanjiro or Inosuke annoying

- Doesn't know how to provoke lsksksksks

- Favorite Lees: Tanjiro, Inosuke and Nezuko-chaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan

- “I would say I got you”

Lee:

- It is very sensitive, 90/100

- He doesn't love being tickled, even though he doesn't hate it

- But he just can't handle teasing, they make him blush a lot

- I like the idea of ​​imagining Zenitsu being super broken by Tanjiro and Inosuke

- It's obvious that he squeals during the tickling

- Weakest points: feet and knees and ears, right?

- Teasing that gets him: “Oh my God, Zenitsu, you look like a tomato”

Inosuke Hashibira 🐗💥🐗💥🐗💥 🐗💥

70% ler / 30% lee

Ler:

- man, it's pretty obvious that Inosuke RUNS AROUND AND JUMPS ON SOMEONE AND MAKES THEM DIE, right?

- Inosuke is ruthless, he will not leave his prey alive

- Tanjiro or Zenitsu have to jump on top of him so he can release his Lee

- He's going to scream and attack you because you said he feels ticklish, and he doesn't, right?

- He will provoke you, in fact his provocations are more insults saying that you are weak

- Favorite Lees: Gompajiro and Monitsu

- “You are my prey”

Lee:

- It's also clear that Inosuke is ticklish and won't admit it

- He gets really angry when you say that to him

- he doesn't feel that ticklish, but it's enough to be broken 70/100

- He hates this so much, looking weak

- Like, when I look at his face I can see someone being cruelly tortured but resisting a lot just to prove that he’s a man

- Weak points: armpits and sides

- Teases that catch’s him: “was the wild animal that sensitive?”

Kanao Tsuyuri 🪙🦋🪙🦋🪙🦋🪙🦋🪙🦋

30% ler / 70% lee

Ler:

- Kanao doesn't usually tickle anyone

- But when she started having a relationship with Tanjiro, she developed the courage to surprise her boyfriend hehe

- Only when she started to have more courage was she able to tickle Aoi when she needed to

– She stays completely silent while tickling someone

- Only sometimes laugh with the person

- Favorite Lees: Tanjiro and Aoi

Lee:

- Kanao is very sensitive 85/100

- But people never used to tickle her

- Apart from Kanae, who liked to make her laugh in times of tension

- One of the first things Tanjiro discovered was that she was very sensitive

- AND LOVED IT

- Running your fingers over her palms makes her shiver

- Her laugh is silent

- She blushes a lot, and hides her face when she laughs

- Tanjiro dies of love hehehehhehehe

- Let's remember that this really cute and beautiful couple exists guys

- Weak points: hands and sides

- Teasing that catches her: “where’s your laugh, Kanao?”

Genya Shinazugawa 🔫🦷🔫🦷🔫🦷🔫🦷

60% ler / 40% lee

Ler:

- Genya tickles people to punish them

- Especially when Muichiro is being annoying

- He looks angry and tough, but he feels like laughing with his lee

- Always uses the excuse that he is hungry and his victim is an oni so he can blow raspberries and use his mouth to tickle

- He loves to attack Muichiro because he thinks that he’s extremely cute

- Favorites lees: Muichiro and rarely Sanemi

- "I am hungry"

Lee:

- now my friends

- Very sensitive 95/100

- Sanemi LOVES TO MAKE THIS BOY'S LIFE HARD

- Muichiro also knows his weaknesses, but Sanemi

- Genya blushes a lot when attacked

- And goes crazy when provoked

- He won't deny that he’s ticklish, he’ll just answer “maybe”

- Always runs away at the right time

- He loves, of course he doesn't admit it, raspberries

- Weak points: scars and armpits

-Teases that get him: “Now I’m the one who’s hungry~”

Thanks for reading 💛💛

[theragethatisdesire]

much ado about nothing chapter 5 - plug!eren x reader - 18+!!!

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. minors and ageless blogs, please do not read below the cut.

i have successfully kicked my writer's block to the curb and am ready to pick back up on plug!eren!!!! woohoo!! this is the part of the story where it gets really plot heavy and there's a lot of moving parts, so it's been a fun exercise to write and brainstorm. if anything is confusing or u have any theories/questions PLEASE hit my inbox i'm so down bad for plug eren i could talk about him for days.

get ready to meet a new character who is......not the best lol. this is also the first chapter written in eren's pov :o things are about to get interesting!

still haven't caught up? series masterlist HERE <3

specific cws: mentions of smut but nothing outright, alcohol use, swearing, u know the drill

-

“If music be the food of love, play on. / Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, / The appetite may sicken and so die.” - Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare (Act I, Scene 1)

Eren is, admittedly, a romantic person, especially given his occupation. Not romantic in the cheesy, buying-flowers and kissing-in-the-rain sense, but he appreciates the little details of life. He loves autumn, when the leaves catch on fire with the changing of the season. He loves the little crook of a woman’s neck, that slope where it goes from tendon to shoulder to collarbone. He can appreciate a good bourbon; after years of raiding his dad’s stash, he developed a palate for it early on. Eren’s romantic nature leads him to believe in signs. When the universe tells him something, he listens.

The text still sat in his inbox unopened, marinating in its own bizarre, heartbreaking nature.

> heyyyy lover boy! i’m back from austria! missed u, let’s catch up ;)

Eren knows that Breeze knows him, knows him well enough to understand that his three-week radio silence isn’t a no, it’s a maybe. He hates himself for not immediately texting her back and telling her to fuck off, but after his conversation with you, he thinks it might be the universe telling him it’s safe this time, that he won’t end up a shell of himself. Maybe.

You had been firm in your assertion that you and Eren were better off as friends, and as much as he wanted to fight it, Eren respects women. As much as he can when he’s prone to wrenching their jaws open and spitting in their mouths while he’s balls deep inside them, at least. He’s disappointed, but he respects it, and if he’s honest, he likes you.

He likes your sharp humor, likes the way you tend to keep your hair up off of your neck, likes the way your eyes light up when someone gives you an excuse to talk about your studies. He hasn’t been “just friends” with a woman in a long time, but it’s refreshing, an excuse to go grab a coffee and shoot the shit like a normal person instead of lurking in the corner of a frat party handing out pills like a perverse ice cream truck.

The last three weeks of “friends” have been the best Eren’s had in a long time. You’re easy, that’s what he likes about you. He can drop the cold mask he wears so often, giggle over a stupid meme, listen intently as you prattle on about some long-dead 18th-century author that was “so ahead of her time!”, smirk when you chastise him for doodling little hearts and flowers all over your coursework.

Sure, he still steals a glance down your shirt when he can, and he’d never admit it, but he thinks about you late at night. He thinks about you when he’s in the shower, when he’s got himself in his hand, panting and swearing under his breath, but he manages to feel enough guilt over it to still consider you a friend. You’re caring and considerate and easy, wholesome fun, unlike someone that’s made a sudden reappearance into his life.

After that first night, just when he was starting to entertain the thought of promoting you from one night stand to official fuck buddy, the closest thing to commitment Eren allows himself to maintain these days, Breeze swept back into his life, and you hit the brakes on him. While it may not have been the sign he wanted to receive, Eren’s a romantic, and he listens to the universe, especially when it goes so far out of its way to tell him something.

He’s decided to let Breeze stew for a little while longer. Campus will be clearing out for Thanksgiving break soon, along with most of his business, and he’s going to wait until his hands are empty of work and you before answering her. Plus, she had flitted off to Europe after college like their entire relationship had been nothing more than a passing phase; Eren’s owed at least a little bit of pettiness, right?

> paradise ath 1130! see uthere ;)

Eren snorts at your text. Being as uptight as you are about grammar (you’re constantly hounding him about his texting style, and he’s been making them even more incorrect just to hear you berate him), he knows you’re not just texting quickly, you’re drunk.

“Yo, ‘min!” Eren calls into the kitchen, an excited flutter already rising in his chest beneath his hoodie.

“Yeah?” Armin’s head pops around the doorframe, a dab of ketchup on the corner of his mouth.

“Wanna go to Paradise later?”

“The club?” Armin’s nose wrinkles. Connie’s head appears right beside Armin, a wide grin splitting his face.

“Oh, hell yeah,” Connie answers for both of them before Armin has the chance to shoot the idea down, “who’s going?”

“Like you don’t know the answer to that,” Armin scoffs, ducking back into the kitchen with a roll of his eyes.

“I never took her for a ‘club’ type of girl,” Connie adds air-quotes to emphasize his confusion.

Eren mulls that over for a moment; he doesn’t really take you for a club type of girl either, but from the sound of it, Historia and Sasha have already done the job of getting you good and drunk and talking you into a night on the town. Eren’s always wanted to see what you’re like when you’re well and truly fucked up; every time you indulge him with a story from college, he ends up laughing so hard he’s clutching his stomach and gasping for breath.

Supposedly, when you go all out, you drop the mom-friend act and become a little less tame; is this Eren’s opportunity to get an eyeful for himself? He’s not waiting around to find out.

Eren shrugs. “Come help me make these runs and we’ll go. Armin, you’re driving.”

The drop-offs are uneventful, and as soon as Eren steps foot inside the club, his nose scrunches with distaste. Ironically, he’s never been into the partying scene, much preferring a quiet beer at Scout’s or a blunt on the couch to a club. The music’s horribly loud, bass thudding through the fabric of his hoodie and beating against his chest, and as he looks for you, he can barely see through the mass of bodies and the fog machines. You’re here? It’s difficult for Eren to imagine you, in your favorite flannel and those cute little Vans he likes, tucked against the bar throwing back your signature craft beer. As Connie urges him and Armin in the direction of the bar, calling for green tea shots, Eren nearly regrets his decision, until fingernails dig into his shoulder, spinning him on his heels.

“Hey, you.”

Eren blinks stupidly as you grin up at him through thick, black lashes. He’s never even dared to imagine you like you are now, piercing eyes gazing up at him through a heavy dusting of makeup and the shortest, tightest dress Eren’s ever seen hugging every inch of your curves. You look sinful in a way he’s never seen you before, not even when he was holding you tight to him and wrenching out orgasm after orgasm from your body. He gulps.

“Holy shit– hey,” he lets you pull him in for an overexcited hug, bites down on the inside of his cheek to distract himself from the bulge already swelling in his pants.

“I missed you!” You pinch his cheeks, much to Eren’s dismay.

“Just saw you yesterday– quit pinchin’ me. What are you even doing here? Didn’t think this was your scene.” Eren has to actively keep his eyes trained on your face; there’s a little bead of sweat traveling down the expanse of skin between your breasts that’s making his mouth water. Friends, he scoffs in his mind. Are you trying to kill him?

“Well, it’s not, but Sasha says I need to be more fun, and Stor says I need to find a boyfriend.” You gesture around like it’s obvious. Eren cocks an eyebrow, ignoring the inappropriate envy that twists in his stomach at the mention of the word ‘boyfriend’.

Boyfriends never like the guy friends, it’s practically a law of nature. If you’re dating around, it’s only a matter of time before some square in a button-down steals you away from your coffee dates and movie nights with Eren, but he can’t get too caught up in that now, not when you’re looking up at him all dizzy and sexy and bursting at the seams.

“Don’t know if this is the place for that.”

“That’s what I said!” Oh, you’re drunk drunk, all of your movements overexaggerated and shaky. It makes him want to laugh seeing you like this; his little book nerd, trashed and mere inches away from having her ass out at a club. Well, either laugh or drag you into the bathroom to bend you over the sink. He can’t be sure.

“Hey mama!” Connie shouts over at you, handing you a shot. Eren has half a mind to snatch it out of his hand after catching the slurring in your voice, but he’s too late; you throw it back without so much as a shudder, grinning all wide and wet and pretty when you swallow.

“I didn’t think you’d actually show up,” you tell him, pulling him down by his collar so you can speak into his ear. Eren has to bite back a groan at the feel of your hot lips against his ear. Friends, he reminds himself urgently, pushing you back from him but keeping his hands firm on your hips, relishing in the way your flesh gives under his grip.

“You know the rules. You call, I come.”

“That’s what she said,” you snicker, pinching his cheek again.

“Cut that out!”

“Make me.” Oh fuck, Eren’s going to die. He’s going to die if you keep looking at him like that, bottom lip tucked between your teeth and fuck-me eyes on him.

“You’re not being very friendly,” he manages to choke out, trying his hardest to give you a suspicious look through the dizzying wave of images that flash through his brain. You with your mouth full of him. You spread out on his bed, back arched and fingers twisted in his hair. The little “o” your mouth made when you rode him for the first time. Eren wants to smack himself, jump in a cold shower, something. Get a grip, dude.

“Maybe not,” you shrug, eyes darting over to the bar. “Hurry up and grab a drink, I wanna dance.”

“Not much of a dancer,” Eren admits, taking the beer that Connie hands him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll do all the work.”

Eren isn’t sure if he likes or loves the sound of that, powerless against that stupid little dress you’ve got on as you drag him behind you to the mass of bodies he had so disdainfully eyed on his way in. He’s greeted by a loud round of shrieking, one more pinch to the cheek by Historia and a slap on the ass from Sasha. You make a show of teasing him for how pink his face gets, but luckily, your friends are instantly distracted by Armin and Connie’s arrival right behind him. You pull him back down, glossy lips pressed right against his ear.

“I really like this song.” You’re barely audible over the pounding music, but even if Eren hadn’t heard what you said, he’d get the gist from the way you grind against his thigh, slow and sensual. Maybe you are actually trying to kill him.

“Yeah?” He’s breathless, irreparably and embarrassingly caught in the little web you’ve woven.

“Yeah.” You’re moving harder against him now, throwing your arms around his neck and grinding your hips into his. Eren’s only thought is to let his hands fly back to your hips, let you use him like a stripper pole to show off.

He can feel eyes on him, not the eyes of friends, but of other men around him, wondering who the lucky asshole is that’s getting the royal treatment from a girl as hot as you. If he were to be truthful, it’s getting him off, how every eye is on you and, by proxy, him, holding you like a lifeline as you let the beat rock through your body.

So this, this is the party girl you claim to have living deep inside you. This seductive, electric creature moving tantalizing against his body, this is the source of the stories Historia tells him that make you blush? How you could ever be embarrassed of this is beyond him; you’re like a little devil, sent straight from hell just to torture him, and Eren’s mouth is watering.

Song after song goes by, and you don’t let up, don’t let him catch his breath for a moment, moving from facing him to pressing your ass into his crotch and then back again, arms above your head or wrapped around his neck. Eren wishes he was mentally sound enough at the moment to feel ashamed that you can absolutely feel how hard he is through his pants right now, but he’s drunk on you, letting you press into him so insistently he has to tug your dress down for you, letting you drive him so crazy that he’s grateful for the loud music now. He’d die if Connie or Armin could hear the way he’s grunting and groaning low under his breath, powerless underneath you.

Suddenly, as if you haven’t just been riling him up for the last half hour, you back away enough to face him, shaking your empty cup and him and mouthing something that Eren’s still too dizzy to make out.

“Huh?”

“Get me another drink!” you shout over the bass, laughing at him.

Eren nods stupidly, darting away from you before he can grab your jaw, pull your lips to his like he so desperately wants to. Finally out of the throng of bodies, he can feel his head clearing, some semblance of sanity crashing over him. What the fuck has gotten into him? It was just one night, and you’ve kept him at arm’s length ever since, only seeing each other under the guise of coffee, or a beer, or Eren insisting you need to continue your education in the wonders of horror films. You’re drunk, that’s the only explanation; drunk and teasing him like you aren’t going to wake up and throw him right back into the friendzone. He rests both elbows on the bar, shaking his head like he’ll be able to knock some sense into himself if he rattles his brain around a little.

Eren orders your vodka soda and a beer and a shot for himself, something to clear his head and keep his blood pressure manageable. Hopefully, at least.

When he turns around, drinks in hand, that plan flies out the door. There you are, center of the dance floor, hands above your head and hips moving like you’re intentionally trying to make him lose his fucking mind. He tilts his head in interest when a man approaches you, grazes his hands over your hips like he means to start grinding against you. Eren can feel his own hands tightening around the bottle and the plastic cup in his hand, but he holds himself back; he’s got no claim on you, and if you’re willing to entertain the man (who, if you ask Eren, is way below your standards), who is Eren to stop you?

You surprise him in the best way: when the man touches you lightly, you whip around, brows furrowed and a little glitter in your eyes so mean that even Eren nearly flinches. He can’t read your lips in the low light, but he snorts to himself anyway as the man puts his hands up and backs away from you, eyes wide. As if nothing had happened, you spin back on your heel, facing a cackling Sasha with a shrug.

Eren feels a wide, proud smile blooming on his face. As much as he feels an unwarranted protectiveness towards you, he likes watching you get your teeth out and stand up for yourself. Before he can make his way back over to tease you, a voice from his left makes his blood run cold.

“Rennie?!”

Two thin arms are tossed around his neck before Eren can even respond, the familiar scent of vanilla and coconut enveloping him.

“Breeze?” Eren chokes out, too shocked to keep his composure. She pulls away from him and grins, a little diamond glittering from her right canine tooth.

“You didn’t text me back, you tease,” she swats at his chest, snags the vodka soda he’d bought for you right out of his hand, taking a sip. Eren takes the opportunity to swallow hard around the lump in his throat, one last tentative glance towards you before he turns his gaze back to Breeze.

She’s cut her hair, something short and choppy that swings around her ears, and fuck, she’s still just as pretty as he remembers, little freckles on her button nose visible in the darkness of the club.

“Didn’t think you wanted to see me,” Eren shrugs, forcing his face to remain schooled into one of cold apathy. She had left him, like he was nothing to her. He hates her, he realizes, god, he hates her so much it burns in his veins. Breeze cocks her head, frowning.

“Why would you think that?”

“You fucking left me, Breeze, don’t be stupid,” Eren makes a move to steal the drink back from her, but she holds it close enough to her chest that he’d have to practically grope her to take it, and his fingers recoil at the realization.

“Are you double-fisting, or did you buy this for someone special?” She teases, brushing right over Eren’s bristly demeanor. When he doesn’t answer, she raises her eyebrows. “It’s for someone. Well, point her out! Is she cute?”

Breeze turns on her heel, standing on her tiptoes to glance through the crowd. Before he can stop himself, Eren’s grabbing her upper arm, spinning her back to face him with anger blazing in his eyes. When he meets her gaze, her baby blues are alight with mischief, and he knows that no matter which direction he moves, he’s losing whatever little game she has him trapped in. That was the thing about Breeze; Eren was always losing her games.

“Fuck, just…just stop it, Breeze. What are you even doing here?”

“I’m back in town, didn’t you see my text?” Breeze shrugs innocently, sipping your drink.

“Okay, well, welcome back,” Eren deadpans, leaving her question hanging in the air between them. He turns back to the bar to order another cocktail for you, having given up hope of getting the first one back from Breeze, but she’s relentless, has always been that way. She slides up to the bar beside him, smiling demurely up at him.

“I missed you, you know.”

“Wouldn’t have guessed,” Eren scoffs, rolling his eyes. Breeze flinches, but Eren knows her better than that. It’s all an act, it always is.

“I never realized how much I hurt you,” her fingers grazing over his cheek nearly burn with how cold they are in contrast to the heavy, thick air around them, “‘m sorry, Rennie.”

“It’s fine.” Eren hates the way he twitches and nearly leans into her touch when she swipes her fingers over him. How many times has he thought about this, seeing her again after all these years? Everything he’s planned out, everything he’s ever wanted to say is lodged in his throat, a jumble of letters and words so squished out of order that they no longer hold meaning. He doesn’t love her, not anymore, but his body reacts before his brain can stop it, a conditioned response.

“Can we talk about it soon? Maybe over coffee?” Blue eyes blinking up at him earnestly.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Breeze,” Eren rolls his eyes, swallowing thick around the knot in his throat.

“There is,” she insists, “I brought this amazing espresso blend back with me from Florence, and–”

“If I say yes, will you leave me alone for tonight?” Eren can feel the exasperation in his tone, can feel the weight of his mistake weighing on his shoulders. It’s fine, he tells himself, he’ll make up some excuse and get out of it. A long conversation with Breeze about their breakup is the last thing he needs.

“Maybe,” Breeze tucks her lip in between her teeth, a little smile playing at the corner of her mouth, “unless you change your mind.”

“We can talk or whatever another time, but I’m going back to my friends, okay? Go find yours.”

“You’re my friend,” Breeze purrs, one hand stroking over Eren’s bicep, “and I haven’ seen you int–”

“Don’t push it,” Eren nearly growls, scowling down at her. He knows half of the hatred buzzing through his veins is reserved for himself, but he’ll unpack that at home with a blunt, not in the middle of the club with you waiting for him on the dance floor and Breeze staring up at him hungrily.

“Always wound so tight,” Breeze hums, reaching a hand up to squish his cheeks, “but fine. I’ll see you soon.”

She miraculously leaves him there with nothing but a wink, taking your vodka soda with her; Eren’s shoulders slump in relief. Knowing Breeze, it was a wonder she hadn’t tackled him right there. When he turns around for the second time, two drinks in hand, you’re already staring at him. Shit.

You don’t look mad– and why would you be? You’re friends, Eren reminds himself. There’s no reason for you to know who Breeze is; he’s never told you about her, and he never planned on doing so. Eren knows Historia, though, well enough to believe that she told you everything from the godforsaken moment he walked into your apartment that day. 

He doesn’t like that look you’ve got, though; again, not mad, but he can see the gears turning behind your eyes. Eren has to practically force himself to walk towards you. Your head’s cocked in confusion, something watery and hesitant glimmering in your eyes through the low lighting. If he didn’t know better, he’d say you almost look hurt, but that wouldn’t be fair, would it? You didn’t want him, you had made that abundantly clear.

“Sorry it took me a while. Long line.” Eren hands you your drink, nearly wincing at how naturally the clearly false statement rolls off his tongue.

“Mhm,” you nod, downing nearly half of your drink in one long slurp. Your movements aren’t fluid and dynamic anymore; you’re stiff as a board, bouncing back and forth on the balls of your feet along to the beat of the song. “I…I actually have to pee, do you mind holding this?”

“Now?” Eren blinks, confused. “I just got your drink.”

You offer him a tight smile. “I wanted to wait ‘til you were back, so you could watch my drink. And so you didn’t think I ran off on you or something.”

“Oh, yeah, go ahead.”

He watches you slink away into the crowd, watches the dozens of eyes follow you, surely wondering what happened to the little firecracker in the middle of the dance floor. Eren knows you get like this sometimes, suddenly pensive and nostalgic, knows that per your own admission, you like to handle it yourself. He hadn’t done this to you, had he?

A firm pinch to his cheek distracts him, pulls him down a foot below his normal standing height. Could everyone just stop pinching his fucking face? “Shit, ow!”

“Was that Breeze?” Historia yells directly into his ear. Eren, six-foot-something of hell on wheels, blushes furiously.

“Dude, was that fucking Breeze, or am I too fucked up?” Connie echoes Historia’s sentiment from over her shoulder, eyes comically wide. Armin’s peering around him, eyes flitting back and forth between Eren, Connie, and Historia as he tries to understand what’s happened.

“Who cares?” Eren snaps at Connie. Historia’s grip on his face loosens, releases entirely. If Eren didn’t like the look that you had given him, he hates the look Historia’s shooting at him right now. All daggers and disappointment. She turns on her heel without another word, making a beeline for the bathroom and dragging Sasha along behind her. Eren doesn’t miss Armin’s eyes either; stripping him to the bone without saying a word.

“Quit looking at me like that,” Eren scoffs, waves a hand in Armin’s direction.

“When did Breeze get back into town?” Armin shouts over the music.

“A few weeks ago,” Eren admits, avoiding Armin’s eyes and looking for a spot at the bar where he can escape the heavy gazes of his friends, run away to drown this conversation in a shot of whiskey.

“Did you–”

“I don’t know, man, you know how she is. She just showed up.” Eren knows he’s being unnecessarily gruff, but in his defense, the last hour or so has been a whirlwind of memory and emotion and lust that he doesn’t have the capacity to deal with.

Armin nods simply, takes a sip of his beer. Eren’s known Armin since they were kids, and he knows Armin can read him like a book. If he had a little less pride, Eren would pull Armin to the side and ask if he can make any sense of what’s going through Eren’s head right now because Eren sure as hell can’t. There’s you, with your skimpy dress and your flirty eyes, grinding on him like you’re going to take him home and fuck him stupid again, like you hadn’t demanded an honest-to-god friendship that Eren happens to very much enjoy. On the other hand, there’s Breeze, flighty and just as much of a ghost as she is a real person, popping back into his life and batting her blue eyes at him like she’d never left.

You’re his friend, and Breeze is his terrible ex. There shouldn’t be a choice here– there isn’t, it’s just the way things are, but Eren feels stuck at a crossroads for some reason.

He finally gets fed up with the music and the bumping of bodies around him and storms off to the bar again, biting back the urge to snap at Connie and Armin who he knows are hot on his heels. Eren’s just looked up from the shot of whiskey burning its way down his throat, acknowledging the dizziness that’s come with his drinks for the night, when he spots you.

You don’t look angry, that’s a small mercy you unwittingly grant him, but you’re cowering. Historia, even being shorter than you, is practically pinning you to the wall outside of the bathroom, shouting at you with her finger in your face. Sasha doesn’t look all too pleased either, arms crossed and a deep scowl written into her features. Eren gets a glimpse of your phone in Historia’s other hand that she’s waving around erratically, and wonders what the hell happens in women’s bathrooms. He’s not exactly sure what prompts it, but he checks his own phone. Nothing.

“Are they fighting?” Connie asks, nose scrunched as he peeks around Eren’s arm.

“Looks like it,” Armin nods, wincing as you try to make a grab for your phone from Historia, resulting in Sasha saving you at the last second from face-planting as Historia holds it out of your reach.

“Should we, like, do something?”

“Absolutely not,” Armin and Eren echo each other, looking at Connie as if he’d just suggested they all walk into oncoming traffic.

Eren watches as Historia grabs you by the wrist and drags you out of the bar, your feeble protests doing nothing to stop her insistent steps. Sasha follows both of you, gently pushing you along by the small of your back and shooting a regretful glance at Connie, mouthing a sorry as you all make your exit. It’s hardly been five minutes before Eren’s phone buzzes.

> had to leave. do you mind paying our tab if i venmo you? it’s under reiss.

Eren bites the inside of his cheek again, not worrying in the slightest about covering the tab, but more so the reason for your abrupt exit.

> yeah i got u everything ok?

> thanks a ton! see u next time.

It’s purposefully avoidant, especially coming from Historia, who never misses a chance to make fun of you good-naturedly. If you had been sick in the bathroom or far too drunk to stay, she would have come out and said it. Eren throws his card down, going to pay the hefty tab you and your friends racked up, but not daring to pay his own. After all of the shit that’s just gone down, he owes himself at least one more drink.

Once he’s signed, he pulls out his phone again, thumb hovering over your text thread, then Breeze’s, then yours again. Mindful of Armin’s prying eye over his shoulder, Eren sighs heftily and shuts his phone off, leaning in to order another shot. The following morning’s approaching quickly, whether he wants it to or not, and he’ll save his fucked-up emotions for the daylight.

[nexadarling]

Ohhhh I would love to hear about Reaching Out To Find Another Hand, that is a very cool title!!!

yeeessss i was hoping someone would ask, this one is my baby!! sending you a thousand kisses, Allen 🥰🥰

you've actually read parts that i have shared in the server, this is the post-trimax wolfwood lives piece where he struggles with intrusive thoughts as he adjusts to living in a more domestic setting that doesn't require the violence he is used to and trained for. just about anything angsty i have shared has been pulled from this one lol

the title comes from Tomorrow Is Closed by Nothing But Thieves, which to me is The Trimax Vashwood song. This is the part it comes from, which hopefully also explains why I picked that as a title:

So here's your last kiss Won't wanna miss this Only piece of heaven I ever had We're all sinking, you know the feeling We're all reaching out to find another hand No, I don't think it's for nothin' But I hope someday we're gonna get it back

god i love this band so fucking much.... anyway, since i haven't actually shared any snippets with the intrusive thoughts i based this whole idea on, here ya go!

(warning obviously for intrusive thoughts and the instability that comes with that, but they do also include non-explicit acts of violence towards children and very brief descriptions of blood. nothing worse than what already appears in trimax, but enough to mention, if only because there are kids involved, but it is all only in Wolfwood's head)

There are moments where he wonders if he came back right. If maybe something happened and he came back not entirely there somehow. Physically, he’s back 100%. Even more than, if he takes into consideration what a normal human is capable of. But he’s back to his 100%, just without the vials. In other words, it would take a hell of a lot longer to come back from a gunshot, but he’s pretty sure he’d still be a hard motherfucker to kill. Thankfully, they haven’t had a need to test that particular theory. But then there are times, short snippets that sneak up on him, where his mind doesn’t quite feel his own. The first time it happens is when Miss Melanie finally convinces him to play with the kids. He’s just able to tuck away that voice that tells him he’s too dirty, too bloodstained, to be trusted around life so fragile. Thinks maybe (maybe) he’s good enough. And he forgets for a moment. Just long enough to be blindsided by the image of the kids bathed in blood, bones snapping like twigs between his own hands.  It’d be so easy, he thinks, and then freezes. He forces a smile on his face, manages an excuse, and tucks himself far, far away in a corner where no one will look for him. Watches his trembling hands in the sand as he tries to steady his breath. That’s not him. That’s not him, he’s here to protect those kids. He’d rather die again than to hurt a single hair on any of their heads. But that was his voice in his head, and Legato is no longer around to invade his mind, Livio was sure of that much. So it had to be him. But it’s not. It doesn’t stop after that, but it always catches him off guard. I could kill everyone in here in less than a minute with this, as he’s helping cut vegetables in the kitchen. It’d be so easy to break her bones, as he helps patch up Sara’s hand where she fell. He would let you, when he looks at Livio one day, the two of them recounting what little childhood they had and laughing. Happy moments, shot through with the violence left in his skull. He doesn’t tell anyone. He never stops being appalled by himself, never stops freezing in horror as the thoughts punch their way in, unwelcome and unignorable. He gets better at recovering, at pulling on a mask so no one notices. He stops running away, and just tries to shut it out. I would never, never hurt them, he reminds himself. Quite literally over his dead body.

this is first draft writing, remember, so it's not as fleshed out as i want and i want to hit harder with pretty much everything, but it's a good idea of the overall tone.... my poor baby, i do so love to torture him before i let him recover

thanks for asking about this one!! ✨🖤✨

[theharmonious13]

Before we start inhales

WHY ARE SO MANY CHARACTERS TALKING TO MONOMOKO??? (I'm looking at you Ojima, Yanagi and Watari)

I'm jumping to conclusions here but why would Monomoko chase after three different students the same day?

Anyways ✨

~~~

285 - Mediator

I'm calling Tamba and Yanagi's duo name the Gym Bros now 😂

Paris is the next Olympics... year has to be somewhere between 2020 - 2023 unless fiction is fictioning right?

Yanagi complimenting people for mispronouncing his name is 💀

Tamba not letting anyone mispronounce her name is a power move

"How's Mai?" "Groans" Poor Yanagi lol

I love the voice acting for Yanagi explaining every reason why he's sorry towards Mai

Tamba was joking about being a princess? Girlboss moment

Yanagi calling Tamba, Ruiko FEELS SO WRONG

286 - Early Riser

Mai's making her a training regimen? Tamba can't do that and the gymnastics regimen right? Two completely different areas

Oh Mai... trying to get Tamba not to blame you for your lack of protection if something happens from here on out

Is Tamba not going to die this chapter? Or is the training arc the perfect time to kill her off? (We can tell who my least favourite is now that Okazaki is gone oof)

287 - Cryptid

Wada addressing Hasegawa because he cares 🥺

HASEGAWA SPOKE!

He sounds so depressed though oml

Hama is also an early riser? Cool beans

"Ojima isn't tired, he's just dumb' SIR- (Lowkey though bold of Hiroaki to say it WHILE Ojima is right there and he GETS AWAY WITH IT!? 😭)

God everyone is treating Hasegawa like a kicked puppy it hurts

Everybody doesn't know him... the pain

I can't explain why I intensely love the ongoing conversation about what the next motive is

Watari saying Hayashigeki is breaking up Girl Nooooo (Although if they do my rarepair [Watari x Mai] is on the up and up)

288 - Open Sky

Monomoko is oddly considerate of trying not to scare Ojima

Monomoko doesn't know what happens when they go all black, do you think we'll get to the stage where they do? Idk it could be either or

Ojima thinks he's going to die noooooo, the next Tsuno jinx 😔

Wait MONOMOKO Ojima friendship/mutual friendliness??? It's been such a slow burn ever since he and Chiba used the lettuce but "I think that it would be a grave disservice to society (if Ojima died)" HELLO??? I love it

ALL THESE COMPLIMENTS FROM MONOMOKO I can't even

What if it's not sky on the other side? Like this whole building is in a science lab

Star symbolism later on?

WHAT DID OJIMA GET GUYS!?

289 - Book Club Revisited

Ayo I've been asking/hyped for this

Hama coming straight out the gate passionate lmao

I'm starting to wonder if these three manga characters are meant to subtly parallel three of the student from this killing game? Although I couldn't tell you who I think they would be

"Her heart's stupid" 😂

290 - Resource Shipment

My reaction to Monomoko replying to Yanagi's sass when they said "No, but I'm trying to." had me like 😗

Yanagi is stocking the cafe because it made Tamba and Watari happy, aww

Omg Yanagi the people pleaser

Ayo Yanagi talking about the downsides of men like Sasaki didn't feel that way about him

What does Yanagi have against Hama? Hama is literally THE BEST WITH THE WOMEN IN HIS LIFE

Abusive father lore, especially towards his mother and sister? Oml what a character backstory moment

Monomoko apathetic as hell but is also an Ojima Stan lol

Oooo Monomoko hit a nerve, some character analysis food for thought literally coming from the killing game host

291 - Aftermath of a Sudden Death

Whose death was sudden? Tsuno's? Who would Tamba and Mai want to talk about?

Death of Tamba's body?

Mai is harsh as heck yikes

Ohhhh Tsuno mention

It feels wrong for Kamimura not to be here? Same girl 😭

Whether she deserves to live? Oh honey... survivors guilt

Mai STOP THE DEATH FLAGS OMG

292 - Patchwork

Watari is so hilarious I can't even

Patches for each dying student? THAT'S SO CUTE AND WHOLESOME I'm literally screenshotting all the patches and drawing it later this is so cute, she's defo going to survive

Dangit Watari tell me what the other patches are

Monomoko DON'T MENTION OKAZAKI THAT'S SO CRUEL

Watari sounds so broken...

293 - Final Warning

Uh what's happening? What stakes have been raised?

Shows the sky? Interesting, OH OJIMA IS GOING TO PAINT IT SO ALL THE STUDENTS HAVE A REFERENCE

Wait bro DON'T KICK MONOMOKO THE FUCK? Literally the hypocrisy they mentioned is so blatantly true and unfair

I already didn't like Dr Kan very early on but screw him man

294 - Flat Rejection

This better not be Yanagi confessing against his better judgement and Mai turning him down or I will cry

Either way this episode is going to be a sad doozy I can tell

Omg Mai being so dry toned and over it the immediate moment Yanagi appears gives me life somehow

Oh no he's scared he'll become his father

I wanted them to TALK though, bite the bullet Mai gdi

He doesn't trust Mai? 👀

295 - Young Forever

Omg that's the painting? I saw this as a YouTube preview and thought they just discovered another funky room somehow

HE'S DOING THE WHOLE SHUTTER? I thought it was just going to be a canvas omg

Is it the end of the world like all the other canon Danganronpas? Why is the sky red, the heck?

Is he hiding that Monomoko showed him that from Hiroaki?

HE'S BEEN IN THE ART INDUSTRY FOR LESS THAN A YEAR!? Ojima I need to 'borrow' your talent buddy

His parents got arrested!? WHY ARE WE GETTING SO MUCH LORE THIS CHAPTER I LOVE IT

Ojima grew up too fast, I know someone who can relate

"I'm not ready to talk/think about it" Ojima let me join the club please omg 😭

296 - Supply Room Dilemma

Oh no, no one's cleaned either place yet? Uh oh

HAMA LORE, YES!

People messed with Hama because he wasn't allowed to fight back? That's fucked up man

Him defending his sister like that is admirable despite being messed up

Nooooooo, Mai lore would've been awesome, but it makes sense why she wouldn't

[butterflydm]

Forsaken thoughts for s3

Nothing firm, nothing concrete, just thinking out some thoughts.

I am trying to keep spoilers to around A Crown of Swords or so, but I am talking about the Forsaken, so it's possible that a late-series spoiler has slipped into without me realizing it.

We have three Forsaken all-but confirmed for season 3, I would say:

Definitely getting Moghedien

Definitely getting Lanfear

Despite Reddit's constant worries that he's been cut, I genuinely have zero doubt that we will be getting Asmodean but I think the show is going to obscure his identity (just like the books did); which has already been implied by Rafe in an interview (seriously, though a. we had that guitar-holding statue in the s1 Forsaken figurines; b. we're doing a 'close' adaptation of TSR - how is that even possible without Asmo? he's the climax of Rand's storyline!; c. Asmo is PRIME material for the more complicated look at Why People Are Darkfriends that the show has been doing)

So the question is... are we going to see any of the others in s3 or will they be held for s4+.

It depends on a few factors, I think:

a. Are we going to be getting the Forsaken meetings in TAR? One of the ways that Hopper trained Perrin in the early books was secretly taking him to a Forsaken meeting (if I recall, Hopper was able make it so that Perrin not only saw the meeting but also saw Moghedien spying on the meeting). otoh, they may not want to cast actors for the other Forsaken until they have a bigger role to play.

b. How much did they shoot in Caemlyn? It sounds like Caemlyn may have been a location shoot rather than a studio set, which might mean that they only will be using it for a couple of episodes rather than going back to it over the course of the season.

c. They've name-dropped Sammael and Graendal -- does that mean that we're going to see them in s3? I do like @markantonys's idea that Graendal is taking the place of Rahvin in infiltrating Caemlyn, because her MO and Rahvin's are pretty similar (heavy heavy Compulsion). I also like the idea of Sammael maybe starting in Tear, being driven out by Rand, and fleeing to Illian and setting up shop again.

d. I do think either Moghedien or Lanfear is going to take over Mesaana's White Tower plotlines and I'm leaning towards Moghedien, because that makes her even more of an antagonist that's focused on the Wondergirls/Nynaeve.

e. If Rahvin does exist in the show, then he's likely going to be the first Forsaken to Die For Real when Rand balefires him out of existence (in s4?).

f. If Demandred exists, will we be getting the Sharan storyline or would we be getting Taimandred? I would personally find Taimandred a lot more interesting (especially since Dashiva does not exist in this version of the story, or at least doesn't exist as a Forsaken, since Aginor and Balthamel were definitely cut).

Someone on reddit did a good post about how eliminating the "men are always stronger than women in the One Power" differential would actually affect the rankings of the Forsaken and our main characters (the comments are mostly not worth reading but the post itself is good) and how that would effect the 'power rankings' but I also think that the show doesn't consider itself forcibly locked to the power ranking system either (which I feel is a good thing but reddit, of course, thinks is an abomination; how dare we not talk on-screen about how Lanfear is 1(+12) in the Power even though the books never talked about it either and it was all in supplementary material lol).

Tumblr is Weird about links to outside posts but the reddit post is here: https://www.reddit[dot]com/r/WoTshow/comments/17oc10a/ok_i_keep_seeing_people_talk_about_the_power/

So instead of Lanfear being six whole levels below Ishamael and Rand because being 'the strongest female channeler alive' still makes you considerably weaker than literally any of the male Forsaken, she's much closer to being on their level (and it's also possible that the show has made it so that Rand is flat-out actually going to be stronger than Ishamael and Ishy and Lanfear are the same, since they've referenced the Dragon being the strongest channeler ever a couple of times). It would also mean that Semirhage (if included) would be a lot closer to Rand's power level as well, making her an even greater threat.

Our final two slots remain a competition between Demandred, Rahvin, and Semirhage, I would say, and who gets what slot probably depends in part on which stories they plan to focus on. If Rahvin doesn't exist, then I'm uncertain who the first Dead For Real Forsaken is going to be in the show.

a. Asmodean, killed by one of the others?

b. Sammael?

Those two seem the most likely. The others kinda all have stories going on later in the series.

I do think that having Rahvin make it in so that he can get killed off by Rand would serve as a good reason why the other Forsaken act more wary of going near Rand in later parts of the series, so that does remain a possibility for me. Demandred and Sammael do kinda occupy the same space in the 'jealous of Lews Therin' ecosystem, so Sammael being included might mean that Demandred is bumped out, and they could then have Rahvin killed off in s4 or s5.

If Semirhage and Demandred both make it in, we might see their 'strange alliance' together, which could make an interesting contrast against the cutthroat in-fighting of the rest of the Forsaken (in the books, Mesaana is part of that alliance too, but I do think she's just straight-up cut).

[b1adie]

ur katpee raturine post is making me wonder if aventurine and ratio would even survive the hunger games ? u should become president bladie and host one

I WAS PUTTING A BUNCH OF CHARACTERS IN THAT HUNGER GAMES SIMULATOR SITE RECENTLY

here are some highlights. furthermore, i rambled (huge surprise i know)

anyways i love hunger games AUs (i love when characters suffer and die) so i will definitely spend a long time considering this. ive fully written out several with ocs. my first fandom was the hunger games ok i read all three books 11 times so now i have to ponder everything forever

i think aventurine would do really well with getting sponsorships and all that. well liked by the capitol. kind of a finnick type of guy. ratio i feel like wouldnt be as well liked, but still have a decent amount of sponsors since he’s strong and very smart so he’s got higher odds of winning.

okay wait they do kind of have peeta and katniss vibes like not THAT much but the crowd-pleasing good at acting guy and the NOT crowd-pleasing guy who is skilled in survival and not great at acting but unfortunately has to play along with blonde mans act to get ahead. i can see ratio doing that thing katniss did with shooting the arrow at the people supposed to be judging her and sarcastically bowing and going Thank You. For your Consideration. but i suppose he just throws a chalk.

i think a lot of people would want to ally with ratio but he would reject them. makes no sense if they’ll just have to kill each other later. aventurine.. hmm. well like i said he’s well-liked by the capitol which means he’s probably not as liked by the tributes, and considering he doesnt like to show his hand (haha card reference) he wouldnt have shown any skills he has, so no one would particularly have any incentive to ally with him. but. Ough. well. kakavasha. if we made them separate like in the quest and kakavasha was one of the kids that got reaped for the games. well lets not think about that too much or i’ll get sad

ultimately considering aventurine’s luck etc i think he’d make it pretty far and if he DID die it wouldn’t be an accident or a surprise, he’d have set himself up for it to either allow someone else a win, OR spare himself a more gruesome/painful death later. if ratio died i think it’d be an accident. i dont think anyone could actually kill him in a fight, but he could get caught or hit by a trap or he tried to be smart and go out to the edge of the arena but hit the barrier and got zapped. like i feel like it’d have to be somethign small, ONE thing he happened to overlook. but i think it’s obvious neither of them is winning alone. they win together or they both die OR aventurine deliberately sets himself up to die at the very end so ratio is declared the victor. i think that one is pretty likely and hurts in the best way so lets go with that one alright? aventurine eats some poisonous shit or smth in secret and ratio thinks they’re going to find a way to win together until aventurine is like. actively dying and admits what he did. Lol. 😆

[lazyypumpkin]

Vampire movies I have been watching to keep me sane until season 3 of iwtv (Part 2)

Moving on to the sapphic vampire movies I’ve watched thus far

Wir Sind Die Nacht/ We Are The Night 4/5🌟

•does this movie really deserve 4 stars? Maybe not but I love it dearly anyway

•has the same feel as those slightly shitty fantasy books one consumes as a pre teen when one grows up in the 2010’s (based on a purely hypothetical example of course, I personally obviously never did that haha ha ha)

•could be SO good if they would’ve had the balls to make the main character bi

•shitty cop character that you just have to ignore to enjoy the movie

•One of the characters (Louise) is low key a genderbent Lestat?? Blonde ✔️ Obsessive about her love interests ✔️ Also insane but in a glamorous way ✔️

And did I mention a lesbian???????

•anyhow can you tell I’m obsessed with her

•loved the other characters as well, specially Nora and Charlotte (the main character is ok too)

•loved the atmosphere& cinematography

•the first 2/3rds of this movie are fantastic

•one of my favorite vampire turning/transformation scenes

•one of my favorite vampires being vampires and messing around montages

•this could really be a cult classic imo (specially if they just would have committed to the gayness even more)

•LESBIAN VAMPIRE YEARNING!!!!

The Hunger (1983) 4/5🌟

•didn’t like this one much either on my first watch and then rewatched it and was utterly convinced I loved it until right before the ending happened lol

•starts off with a goth club scene where Bela Lugosi Is Dead is playing (it’s so iconic)

•very cool cinematography

•Bisexual Vampire Yearning& Angst

•like seriously this movie is beautifully queer

•thought all the characters were interesting but did not buy that Catherine Deneuve was a vampire from ancient Egypt lmfao

•honestly feels quite anne rice-esque in essence to me

Carmilla (2019) 3,5/5🌟

•didn’t like it the first time I watched it but appreciate it more upon rewatching it several times

•i loved the idea of this movie but am not sold on the execution

•needed more scenes to build up the romance

•actors sort of have a face that looks like it knows what an iPhone is and that took me out of it

•Miss Fontaine was low key annoying and not in an intentional way

•loved the anatomy scenes, the insects& scenes of slow decay

•loved the cinematography& visuals

•BLOODY! SAPPHIC! KISSES!!!!!

•like genuinely when the movie was good it was very good but when it wasn’t good it was kind of meh???

•it could have been such a good movie smh

I still have a lot of lesbian vampire movies from the 70’s on my list so I will expand this sapphic section considerably (and probably cringe at a lot of male gaze-y shit lol)

[starlight-bread-blog]

"Generally I'm just.. really confused? Why wouldn't she credit one of her artist? What does she have to gain? I don't get it. It takes me back to KenDraws, why wouldn't she credit her friend? This shitty repeated behavior is unacceptable. But let's accept that Viv is willing to do shitty stuff. What would be her reasoning?" I feel like all of us are wondering this lol. We can only speculate of course, but it kinda seems to come down to Viv just being a dick about it? (From what we can see.) This isn't the first time Viv has gotten in trouble for not crediting someone properly. Such as not crediting Dollcreep for JayJay's design in her infamous Die Young video, where instead of crediting Dollcreep for JayJay's design, only put Dollcreep in the Special Thanks section IIRC. (She also had some drama with Dollcreep generally, I can't recall if it aligned directly with her not giving full credit or it didn't and she just made a poor choice, but I digress...) Gathering context clues from Squid's tweets about how they WERE properly credited before, but seemingly after speaking about their experiences working for them (which, btw, as far as I've seen Squid never named names, you had to connect the dots through context clues) crediting stopped, and at some point Viv blocked them (also don't know if Squid had already blocked Viv at that point or blocked in return.) I'd also add while generally either employee or company can terminate their agreement at any time, I'm pretty sure the employee still needs to be credited for their work? At the very least if their work was used and not completely tossed? From KenDraw's testimony I got the impression much of Viv's upset came from over-protectiveness of her project/characters. The idea that someone else might "own" a piece of them got her riled up. She called KenDraw's additions "nothing of value" and refused to credit them for any of their involvement despite them contributing a lot of their time and ideas. I feel like she wanted to be free from owing anyone anything or being "held back "or "held down" by other people sharing a piece of her work. While those are valid and common feelings, you don't get to take advantage of friends OR volunteers OR employees without making it clear to them what the terms are, and when you mess up on that there are professional ways to resolve them that don't involve demeaning them or giving legal threats. Combining all that... overall VivziePop seems to give and take credit based on how she feels towards people. She might be afraid that connecting someone she gets in a fight with to her work will lead to them trying to take her down, hold something over her, or trying to "steal" her project/characters/ideas from her--and again while that's a valid fear it's not fair nor professional and she needs to educate herself on what her rights are instead of burning bridges. And I'm pretty sure cutting people out of credit is another legal issue anyway...but it's one no one seems to know how, or have the energy, to fight. But this way Vivzie ensures she holds the "power" over her work that she wants to keep. !! THIS IS ALL SPECULATION !! But reaaaally shitty if true...

Quote taken from here.

That's just me but I don't really like speculation, I don't know the people. With that being said, I appreciate that you decided to share that with me and it's a good read.

I think at some point I saw AyyLmao out of all people, cover the Dollcreep/JayJay thing. If she had beef with Dollcreep, and considering she did remember them, but put them in "Special Thanks" – then yeah it'd be kinda ignorant of me to brush it off as an accident.

Squid's page is 18+ so I didn't want to spend too long there, but in the little time that I did I found this:

"Another"? To me this confirms that Viv and Squid aren't on good terms. Taking into consideration that Squid isn't suprised, it's likely to be the motive for the lack of credit.

But great news from Squid:

Super happy they're getting the credit they deserve and the massive support💕

I don't know a lot about the relationship between VivziePop and Ken, I don't know if I should say anything. I did read the document, but they were friends. It could be protectiveness. Which makes sense to me if we accept that Viv's go-to when having beef with people is to stop creditting them.

Like you said, at the end of the day Viv's motive could be spite, protectiveness or anxiety – but she's an adult working on a serious project with a lot of people involved. She's the boss and gained a lot of power over people (just a fact yk). Non of this makes it okay to refuse to give credit to their work. That's all, thank you so much for the ask and have a nice day💗