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halfvalid · 1 year ago

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Hiii! If its no trouble could I have a zoro and reader fic with the one bed trope? The others know about their crushes on each other so they force each other to share a room? Anyway they end up cuddling and its all cute (the others will tease them forever about it lol)?? Thankss

intertwined ribbons

ABOUT

alternate title: opla zoro makes my hated tropes less hated

rating: general audiences/teen & up

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!nami | live action!straw hats ensemble

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 4.9k

description: unbeknownst to you, your crush on zoro is reciprocated. the rest of the straw hats take it upon themselves to get you together by locking you in his bedroom overnight.

tags: strawhat!reader, only one bed, forced proximity, confessions, no use of 'y/n', nami is a true instigator, cuddling, soft zoro, humor

author's note: thank you so much for the request and i hope it meets your expectations!! fun fact i actually used to hate the 'only one bed' trope, so i decided to challenge myself in writing this. and i think it's one of my fave tropes now lol

(you have an inner spirit that helps you make decisions except it’s just nami.)

“I just think that maybe you should stop avoiding him,” Nami started. You bit your cheek, ignoring her as you tied up the last of the ship’s rigging into a careful knot. Nami had been going on for the past few minutes, and you’d zoned out exactly three seconds in, when the name Zoro had first been spoken. Because of this reason you weren’t really listening, so you blinked up at her in confusion.

“Sorry? Who am I avoiding?”

“You’re impossible,” Nami grumbled. “And you know exactly who I’m talking about.” Which, well, fair. The math added up: you heard the word Zoro, you stopped listening, Nami continued talking until she realized you’d stopped listening. “Especially since you’re, you know—” she gave you another look, eyes rolling over to stare dead into yours— “Avoiding him.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said innocently. Nami sighed, leaning over to tug the rope dangling from your hands out of your grip. You tried to reach back for it, but she didn’t let you. “Hey!”

“Yes, you do. Face it. You’re avoiding Zoro.”

You made a face at her. “I think there are ropes on the foredeck that I can attend to.”

“No, there aren’t,” Nami answered. “Now stop changing the subject. There’s this wild concept called communication. It works wonders.”

“Says you,” you muttered, though your arms crossed defensively across your chest. You noticed the action after a split-second and unwound your arms with a scowl. “Look, I just don’t see the point. And I haven’t been avoiding him.”

You were, in fact, avoiding him. Ever since that dreadful night a week ago when Nami had gotten you tipsy and stuck her hand in your chest cavity fishing for secrets, you’d been avoiding him. The other girl was ridiculously good at prying truths out of you, and during the conversation, you’d accidentally spilled your crush on the Straw Hat crew’s resident swordsman.

You’d managed to keep the secret for the months you’d been together, wherein the unfortunate feelings had developed, and you should’ve figured once somebody knew they wouldn’t leave you alone about it. Because Nami refused to talk about literally anything else. You’d expected this sort of behavior from Luffy, or maybe Sanji, but Nami? The world was more amatonormative than you'd thought.

Nami cast you a look. “You’re blushing.”

“Am not.”

“Are too. What’s the harm in talking to him?” Nami demanded, one hand on her hip as she stared you down. You gaped at her.

“Um, literally everything? One, Zoro can’t talk about feelings or emotions for shit, so when he rejects me it’ll be in the most excruciating, offhand manner that will probably leave me at the bottom of a barrel of rum, two, after being rejected I’m going to have to leave the Straw Hats, three—”

Nami rolled her eyes, looking increasingly fed up with you. “For someone so obsessed with not telling our resident grass-headed swordsman about your feelings for him, you’re talking rather loudly.”

You shut up, snapping your jaw closed with a glare. “Stop it,” you hissed.

“Besides, who knows if he actually will reject you?” Nami turned to work on the next section of rigging, glancing over her shoulder at you. “You’re catastrophizing.”

“I’m being realistic,” you snapped. “Okay, fine. He reciprocates my feelings. Then what? We date, we break up because all relationships eventually end, it becomes awkward, and—voila—I’ll have to leave the Straw Hats anyway. It’s a bad idea all around.”

Nami just let out a huff of breath, the exhale laced with irritation. “Catastrophizing,” she repeated.

“I am not—”

“Sure. Go help Sanji with dinner.”

You gave her an exasperated look, but at this point Nami wasn’t paying attention anymore, so you stormed off into the underbelly of the Going Merry. Speak of the devil, apparently, because once you entered the kitchen you spotted not only Sanji occupying it but also Zoro. He was lounging at the table, swords strapped to his waist and a bottle of something he was nursing in hand.

You averted your gaze from him, head running a million miles a minute. Had he noticed you’d been avoiding him? You’d tried to be furtive about it, but if Nami had noticed, maybe—

“Well, hello there,” Sanji called from where he was in the midst of dinner preparations. “Come to help?”

“Nami sent me,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I think she’s appointed herself queen of the Going Merry.”

“Oh, she did that long ago,” Sanji chided. “You’re only noticing it now. Pick up a knife, then. I’d like some help dicing the carrots.”

You stiffly moved over to the counter, ignoring Zoro as you went even as you felt his gaze following your figure. You picked up the first knife you found, positioning yourself in front of the cutting board to start dicing the vegetables already laid out for you. Abruptly, Zoro stood up.

“Heading out,” he muttered. “Call me when dinner’s ready.”

With that, he left the room, leaving you and Sanji to exchange looks. “He’s moody today,” you said.

“Probably ‘cause you’ve been avoiding him.”

You felt the familiar pinprick of a blush starting to warm your cheeks. “You too?”

“You’re rather obvious about it,” Sanji said with a raised eyebrow. “But enough of that.” Weirdly enough, he didn’t seem to question why. There was no way Nami had told him, so you were left confused, but no matter. The point was that for now, you were safe.

The hour dipped to evening, and soon the moon was glowing in the sky, a shining beacon of white amidst the ocean of stars and shimmering sea. You suppressed a yawn, busing the dishes from dinner as the rest of the crew got up from their respective seats to dissolve to their own rooms. Zoro had already retired for the night—if you were avoiding him, he seemed to be doing the exact same—so at least you didn’t have that to worry about.

“Ah, wait,” Nami said, after you’d finished washing the dishes and was ready to head out. “Zoro wants to talk to you.”

You jolted, glancing nervously around you before grabbing her wrist. “What did you do?” you hissed. Nami just laughed.

“Calm down. I didn’t do anything.” Off your glare, she relented. “I promise. And I swear it’s not about feelings or emotions or whatever. Even though it’s obvious you’re avoiding him, you know Zoro wouldn’t say anything.”

You were still suspicious, but you dropped your hand. “What, then?”

Nami shrugged, tilting her chin up just so. “I guess you’re going to have to find out.”

“I don’t trust you,” you muttered. There was that look in her eye, the one she got whenever she was thinking of something truly devious. Still, you couldn’t figure out what she was up to, so— “Fine, I’ll go to his room. Walk me.”

Nami rolled her eyes, but she fell into step with you as you made your way across the ship. “You should bring it up to him, you know,” she started, but silenced after your sharp glare. “Okay, okay. I get the point. I’ll stop bothering you about it.”

You stopped by the mouth of Zoro’s door. “Wait, really?”

“Yes, really,” Nami said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. She leaned against the wall beside the door, arms crossing over her chest. “I’ll leave you alone about Mr. Prince Charming over there. Knock.”

“You can't call him Mr. Prince Charming,” you said, though you did knock. “Prince’ is already a title.”

Nami gave you a look. “Okay, smart-ass.”

The door creaked open before you could give your response, and you turned, heart pounding in your throat as Zoro stared down at you. His arm was propped up by the open doorway, the other hand still clutching the doorknob. “What.”

“Um, Nami said that you wanted to talk—” you swiveled your head towards the other girl, but before you could finish your sentence, Nami was raising up your arm and unceremoniously shoving you into the room.

You shrieked in surprise as you fell into Zoro’s figure, stumbling into him and causing him to lose his balance. Your head shot up in offense, only to see the gleam of a golden padlock in Nami’s hand before she was yanking the door closed.

A dull click echoed through the room. The only thing you could hear for a few seconds was your own heavy breathing and the sound of Zoro gathering himself.

“Did she just—” You gaped at the closed door. “Lock us in?”

Zoro swiftly pushed past you, jiggling the doorknob for a few moments before giving up. Sure enough, Nami had sealed it with the padlock from the outside, so there was no possibility of either of you getting out of the room. You could vaguely hear sounds from the outside—dull thuds and scrapes—and watched as Zoro started banging on the door.

“Nami,” he called, voice dangerously low. “Let us out.”

“Sorry, Zoro!” Your jaw practically unhinged from your skull once you heard your captain’s familiar voice, all bright and cheerful like always. “We’re putting barrels in front of the door, so don’t even try breaking it down. Have a good night!”

“Luffy? What are you—” Zoro’s knocking quickened in pace, his voice getting increasingly louder. There was no response from outside, though you could hear snickers that sounded suspiciously like Usopp. What was going on?

You kicked into action, joining Zoro by the door and trying the door handle again. “Nami!” you yelled.

Nami’s soft laugh came from outside. “Sorry!” she called. “We’ll let you out in the morning.”

You gaped at the door, only aware of Zoro’s gaze sliding down to you as you dropped your hand from the doorknob. There were some more tigers from outside, and then receding footsteps. Zoro tried knocking one last time, but it was evident that the rest of the crew had all but abandoned you.

“Okay,” Zoro muttered, moving away from the door. “I need a drink.”

You watched him move across the room, picking up a glass from his bedside table that was only slightly full. He knocked it back in one swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. “Um, what now?” you asked uncomfortably.

“Nothing. Whatever,” Zoro said, turning to glance over at you. After a moment’s thought, you noticed that he refused to look you in his eye—his gaze was firmly trained at a spot beside your head. He turned away, stripping off his sword scabbard and setting them on the floor.

You glanced around nervously. Zoro’s room wasn’t that different from yours, really—less decorated, but the constitution was the same. There was the bed, a wardrobe, a desk with various paraphernalia across it, and a little couch in the corner too. “You can look through the closet for something to sleep in. I’ll take the chair.”

The words didn’t register at first, and you were left standing there, staring as Zoro kicked off his shoes and assumedly started getting ready to sleep. “Um, what?”

Zoro glanced over his shoulder. He still wouldn’t look you in the eye. “They’re not letting us out until morning,” he said slowly. “You can take the bed. Might as well sleep.”

“It’s your room,” you started, crossing your arms. “I can sleep in the chair. I’m smaller than you, anyway, so I’ll fit it better.”

Zoro regarded you with such a reproachful look you almost wanted to laugh. “That’s ridiculous. Change.” With that, he turned around, leaving no room for discussion. You stared at him for a second before giving up, moving to his wardrobe and opening it up to search for something to sleep in.

“So, uh, any ideas on why they stuck us in here?” You asked, although you already knew the answer. Whatever Nami thought locking you in a room with Zoro would achieve, you were stubbornly not going to let her be right. God, you were so going to kill her once you got out of there.

“Nope,” Zoro said, with such a degree of finality you figured it wouldn’t be safe to question him further. “They’re just stupid.”

“I mean, I feel like they would have a motive?” You rifled through his clothes, trying very hard to detach them from their owner. Wearing Zoro’s clothes was not something you wanted your mind to linger upon. Eventually you found a shirt of his that would undoubtedly be oversized on you, and you hastily changed into it, satisfied to find it draped well to your knees so you weren’t exposing too much skin.

You stole a glance over your shoulder at Zoro, only to catch him in the action of peeling his shirt off. The stretch of the muscles in his back gleamed in the dim light of the room, and you tore your gaze away, heat rushing to your face. “Um. Anything?”

“Nope,” Zoro repeated. Carefully, you closed the wardrobe door, lingering in one spot with your hands clenched together. Once you heard him start moving again, you deemed it safe enough to turn towards the rest of the room. He’d changed into a loose tan shirt, and had settled back into the chair.

“I said I’d take the chair,” you told him hotly.

“Yeah, and I said no,” Zoro said, tone dismissive. He had his eyes closed, and you stared at him in disbelief.

“I’m not sleeping in your bed,” you said, and then, just to emphasize your point, plopped down on the floor. Zoro cracked an eye open and stared down at you. He sighed.

“Get up. Don’t be stupid.”

“I’m not being stupid,” you said. “It’s your room. It’s your bed. You will sleep on it. If you’re not giving me the chair, I’ll sleep on the floor.”

Zoro let out a long sigh, closing both his eyes as if he was contemplating all his life decisions. “I’m not sleeping in the bed, you know,” he said.

“Okay, so neither of us do.”

Zoro’s brows creased, and he opened his eyes to glare down at you. “Seriously? At least take the chair, then. I’ll sleep on the flo—”

You gave him a sharp look. “Zoro.”

“This conversation isn’t getting anywhere,” Zoro muttered, and finally got up from his chair. You glanced up at him expectantly. “What can I do to convince you to take the bed?”

“Uh, nothing.”

“We can work out a compromise,” Zoro said with a sigh. “I want you on it, and you want me on it, and neither of us are willing to take it ourselves.” He paused, brow creasing as an idea seemed to form in his head—one he didn’t seem to be a giant fan of, but an idea nonetheless. “How about.” His lips pursed, before he parted them again to finish his sentence. “How about we both take it?”

It felt like someone had hit you square in the chest, air kicking out of your lungs and leaving you gasping for breath. Your windpipe was all raw, and you had to fight to tear any words out from your throat. “Ex—excuse me?”

“It’s big enough,” Zoro said stiffly, though his hands were clenched at his sides. “I can take one side and you can take the other. Since you’re so dead-set on me sleeping on it.”

“I—” You cut yourself off, suddenly far too aware of Zoro’s eyes fixed on you. Watching your every move. Oh, Nami was in for it now. How were you supposed to survive sleeping in the same bed as—you didn’t even want to think about it.

“Well?” Zoro prompted.

“Fine,” you agreed hastily, ducking your head lest Zoro catch any of the flush that was undoubtedly rising steadily up your cheeks. It was bad enough you were stuck in his bedroom and wearing his clothes—but this had quickly become your own personal circle of hell. “Good enough for me.”

“Finally.” With that, Zoro climbed into bed, settling himself on the very edge of its side. Your throat had gone dry, and you stared at him for another second before hurriedly turning away to flick the lights off. You approached the other side of the bed with an extreme lack of enthusiasm, staring at the empty sheets like they were cackling up at you. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Eventually you slid into the bed, busying yourself with arranging the blankets around your figure. Zoro’s breaths were steady and deep from beside you. You didn’t know what to do for a second, but then Zoro’s voice was cutting through the darkness. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

You jolted, then suppressed your sigh. “Have not.”

“Yes, you have, and everyone knows it, and you’re not very subtle,” Zoro said, sounding almost bored as he rattled off the words. “Why.”

“I haven’t—”

“Don’t.”

You ran your tongue along your teeth, sucking at the valleys between them in annoyance. “It’s not important.”

Zoro paused before speaking, like he was mulling over asking the question. “Did I do something?”

“What? No.” You shook your head, despite knowing he wouldn’t be able to see. The sound did well enough to indicate the action to him, though—he scoffed, a low murmur from his chest that buzzed through your nerves. “I don’t want to talk about this. You’re giving the rest of the crew what they want.”

“They definitely did not lock you in here to talk about why you’re avoiding me,” Zoro muttered. Now it was your turn to scoff, because if only he knew. “Are you sure I didn’t do anything?"

“Positive. It’s all me.”

“Okay, so why?” Zoro prompted. You swallowed hard, trying to dodge around the subject. “Are you sure—”

“Please just stop talking,” you said, one hand reaching out to grip his arm as if the physical contact would make him shut up. There was a stagnant moment of silence, your breath catching as your brain caught up to your body. Your hand was on Zoro’s arm. Your hand was on Zoro’s bicep, and you were in his bed.

You cleared your throat, a panicked choke bursting from your lungs. “Um.” Your eyes skittered sideways, and then you finally turned on your side to stare at him. To stare at where your hand was still clutched around his arm.

You could just barely make out the angle of his jaw in the darkness, but you could see it was clenched, the vein along his neck protruding just slightly. Hastily, you removed your hand, the skin of your fingers tingling like you could still feel him underneath the tips. “Sorry. Why—why are you so certain that you did something for me to avoid you?”

There were a few moments of silence that ticked by, nothing but the rock of the ship interrupting it. Finally, Zoro spoke. “Because the reason they locked you in my room is because—”

“What? The reason they locked me in your room is because of me,” you said. Zoro finally moved from his position, head tilting to face yours so you were eye-to-eye. You swallowed. “Nami, um—Nami specifically forced me in here so I would… talk to you.”

There was a question evident in Zoro’s voice. “About?”

Your lips parted, and then closed again. “Um.”

“We can just sleep, if you want,” Zoro muttered.

“What if they don’t let us out in the morning because we haven’t talked, though?” you hissed. Zoro let out a low laugh.

“You realize you’re giving them exactly what they want.”

“So you’d be more comfortable if we just… fell asleep?” you asked. Zoro shrugged. Since you weren’t exactly averse to the idea of not confessing, you nodded in agreement, heart beating a million miles a second. “Okay. Fine by me.”

You settled back into your pillow, but soon came to realize that, due to the fluttering butterflies in your stomach and the fact you were very aware of the man of your affections being barely a foot to your right, you could not sleep. Evidently Zoro felt the same way, because he kept shifting around under the blankets—your hands brushed against each other a few times before he jolted away like you’d burnt him.

“Sorry,” you muttered. Zoro didn’t say anything in response. Somewhere in the back of your head, you could hear Nami hissing at you—I didn’t shove you in a room with Mr. Prince Charming just for you to not take advantage of the opportunity. You tried to get her out of your brain—it was a bad idea all around—but the words kept reverberating around in your mind until you found yourself suddenly speaking. “Zoro?”

“Hm?”

“Nami stuck me in here so I would tell you that, um—”

“You don’t have to say it,” Zoro murmured, and you shivered, his voice sounding suddenly closer. You squirmed, your hand brushing against Zoro’s again, except this time it took him a delayed moment to drift away. He had gotten closer—or maybe that was you, instinctually leaning towards the dip in the middle of the bed when you’d been lost in thought.

“The reason they locked me in here with you is so I would tell you about my feelings towards you,” you blurted, the words slurring together, consonants and syllables all in one rush. “Because I have them. Feelings, I mean.”

Zoro’s voice was very low when he spoke. “Excuse me?”

You sat straight up, the blankets previously nestled around your chin falling to your waist. “I have feelings for you and that’s why everyone locked me in here.”

“I—” Zoro coughed, and then coughed again, ridding his throat of whatever was preventing him from making full sentences. He slowly sat up, and you stared down at the blankets in your lap as you saw him rise to his full height beside you. And oh, this was it. He was about to reject you in the most excruciating, offhand manner that would probably leave you at the bottom of a barrel of rum. “That’s not possible.”

“Why is that—” you decided to shut up instead of finishing your sentence, allowing him to speak instead. There was a soft burning starting at your skin, all red hot, and your brain buzzed, regret filling up your lungs and making it hard to breathe.

Zoro didn’t say anything, but you heard his hand before you felt it. It slid across the bedsheets before finally resting beside yours, fingertips grazing against your knuckles. “Zoro?” you whispered.

“The reason they locked you in here with me is so I would tell you about my feelings towards you,” Zoro said blankly. You blinked. It took you a moment to realize that he wasn’t just quoting you—that he hadn’t switched the pronouns accordingly. Your heart dropped.

Your voice was very faint when you spoke. “What?”

“I like you,” Zoro said carefully. Languidly, the words dripping off his tongue all saccharine-sweet like molasses, or honey. You shivered, your hand accidentally knocking against his, and he took the opportunity to draw it in closer, fingers pushing up your palm, just a hair’s breadth away from interlacing with yours. “Luffy unfortunately found out. He doesn’t know how to keep a secret and told the rest of the crew.”

You gaped at him. “I like you,” you said, dumbfounded. You could feel yourself trembling, fingers sliding against Zoro’s hand with every shake. “Nami yanked it out of me. Which is why I’ve been avoiding you for the past week.”

“I thought you were avoiding me because you found out I liked you,” Zoro muttered. His fingertips brushed against the pads of your hand, and you swallowed, mouth all dry. “So.”

You tentatively lifted your gaze, finding Zoro’s eyes even amidst the darkness. They were shining, a slight glint from the moon coming in through the window reflecting along the shadows of his face. Carefully, his hand slid fully into yours, fingers lacing together, and it was like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place.

Zoro slid back down onto his back, tugging you along with him. You settled back on your pillow, using your other hand to pull the blankets back over your chest. For a full stagnant minute the two of you lay there, hands intertwined in the space between.

You were the one who made the first move, then, thumb running up and down the length of his index finger. Zoro ran with the action, tugging your hand just slightly until you were leaning into the dip of the mattress, gravity pulling you closer to his body.

He lifted your entwined hands, tugging you towards him until your back was pressed right to his chest. Then he settled your arms back down again, the back of his palm resting against your belly.

You swallowed hard, able to hear the sound of your throat in the utter silence. Zoro exhaled, his breath softly brushing against your neck. “Good night,” you whispered.

Zoro pressed a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, a ghost of something that left tingles fluttering down your spine, the drunken butterflies in your stomach swaying at the action. “Good night,” he murmured, and your breath caught.

He was warm, oh so warm, like a campfire with licks of flame that softened your hands in the dead of night. And even though you wanted to speak up, question when he’d started liking you, if he was lying or not—you were content to stay here in his arms and drift off to sleep.

So you did, settling back into his embrace with your head spinning and senses murmuring, all dizzy like you were caught in a dream. Eventually, your tiredness got the better of you, and you felt your senses fading as the world around you darkened to black.

The two of you jolted awake to the knocking and the very unpleasant hum of Nami’s voice. “Rise and shine!” she called through the door, and you blinked, bleary eyes adjusting to the light as you suppressed your yawn.

Zoro jolted up beside you, practically giving you whiplash as his arm was still comfortably around your waist. Your fingers tingled, and you realized that you’d fallen asleep with your hands laced together.

“Nami,” you grumbled, about to rise out of bed before Zoro stopped you. You turned towards him in question, only to stop short as you registered the look in his eyes. His gaze was deep, piercing; those butterflies rose up again in your stomach, apparently awake after they’d passed out from their drunken stupor. You swallowed. “Hi?”

“Hey,” he murmured. “They locked you in my room.”

“I’m going to knock Nami over the head with a rowboat oar,” you said blandly, eyes flickering towards the door, which Nami was still pounding on. You vaguely heard shuffling sounds, like the crew were working to move the barrels they’d stuck in front of the door to free you from your prison. “You can have the rest of them, if you want.”

“I’ll take you up on that offer,” Zoro agreed. “But first…”

“First?” you prompted.

Zoro brought your hands—still intertwined—to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss along your knuckles. “Good morning,” he said, voice low and awkward, like he wasn’t used to letting the words out of his mouth. He let your hands drift to his lap, leaning forward until his forehead brushed against yours.

A faint sigh escaped your lips when he finally kissed you. It wasn’t rough or hard; it was a soft press, like your hands had been just a few hours ago. There was a degree of finality to it; a held-in breath that’d exhaled from your lungs, one you hadn’t realized was building up that much pressure until you finally let it all go.

The door flung open, and you jolted away, but Zoro tilted your head back towards him before you could. At the mouth of the room, Luffy had started screaming. “Aww,” Nami cooed. Behind her, Usopp and Sanji were gripping onto each other like they were watching a particularly engaging fight.

A steady blush rose along your cheeks, but Zoro was absolutely shameless, the hand not held in yours raising up to give them the finger. “Get out of my room.”

“Told you it’d be okay,” Nami sing-songed, and then you really did break away from Zoro, picking up the object nearest to you and barrelling towards her. She shrieked, dodging out of the doorway as Zoro laughed from behind you.

“Wait!” she stopped you from whacking your pillow against her head, raising up her arms in defense. “I was right. I saw you two—”

“Nami,” you started, dangerously low. “You locked me in his room.”

“Yeah, to help you!” she cried defensively, slowly taking backwards steps as you gained on her. “Come on. We can talk about this.”

“Good luck,” Zoro called out from behind you—you turned around, catching his gaze. He had gotten up, leaning against the doorway and watching you with a sparkle of fondness in his eye. “You’ll need it.”

You blew him a kiss, ignoring the long groan it pulled out of Luffy from beside Zoro in the hallway. And then you turned around. Nami had darted off, taking the time you’d been distracted to run off. “Oh no you don’t!” you yelled, and then lunged after her with Zoro laughing all the while.

Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad thing, you thought. But you were still going to beat Nami’s ass.

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merrysithmas · 2 months ago

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Charles' line "There's so much more to you than you know" has always struck me because it's SO easy for Charles to come off unlikeable-

"There's so much more to you than you know" (But I do)

"What do you know about me? - Everything." (Whether you like it or not)

"I know what this means to you but you have to let go!" (Stop this nonsense)

"There's a mutant here already! [Exposing Hank]"

"I don't want your pain. They sent back the wrong man [To Logan]"

"I've seen what Shaw did to you"

"I feel your agony [After Nina died]"

"[Jean expresses no one knows how it feels to be tormented telepathically] Oh but I do."

Like on a base level what he communicates is such an invasion of privacy and instantly gets the hackles up because it's not natural. He can sound, at first glance, self-important and even dismissive (Erik at one point calls him 'arrogant'). Charles' telepathy gift is so alienating. He knows people's most personal thoughts, feelings, dreams, and nightmares. Seeing into someone's soul is as simple as breathing and second nature to him -- and he knows how repulsive this must be (see: how profusely he apologized for outting Hank. This speaks to a past/youth where he clearly unintentionally shared the secrets of others or caused trouble with his abilities and disturbed the people around him or endangered himself/others).

But Charles can't help his powers in the same way that Rogue can't - actually, Charles' abilities could easily been seen in some regards as the psychic equivalent to Rogue's physical gift. She can't touch ANYONE without hurting them in some manner, she is dangerous in some regard. And it's the same thing with Charles -- wherever his mind goes he exposes and hurts people. It's a side effect of his powers.

But unlike Rogue, Charles can't wear gloves. He can try to keep up psychic shields (which hurt HIM), or he can promise Raven he'll never read her mind, but he can't ever lessen his gift. He can't be perfect but he has to try. He can't or he'll be hated, despised, and feared. Rogue and he share a similar distress. Rogue suffers from touch-starvation but has to deal or she'll be seen as a monster. Charles suffers from the same kind of thing is a psychic way - he has to block his abilities or be seen as arrogant, invasive, and holier-than-thou. He has to starve his mind and powers.

So that's why it's sooooo touching that he tries SO hard to do good with it despite all that. Especially as he grows as a person and sees how powerful he can be with appendages like Cerebro. He ALWAYS makes an effort to clarify his knowledge of someone's mind with encouragement, love, understanding, and hope.

He can't help reading someone's mind but he CAN help how they react to it or how they feel about what's been exposed and the constant effort he exerts to express empathy, kindness, and aid is a testament to how hard he works to do good with his mutation. He frankly just doesn't have to do that. He could be like Emma Frost or Jean Grey or Psylocke. They know your thoughts, they use telepathy, and it's as simple as that.

Charles feels people's pain so ardently, sees their struggles so clearly, that it literally torments him not to help. How can he see that and just walk away? Innermost pain and secrets are revealed to him by nature -- he could ignore it, exploit it, or use it maliciously. Instead he takes the information and tries to help (surely in part to make up for how sensitive the invasion is).

"There's so much more to you than you know" (But one day you'll be more powerful than me. Don't get lost, keep going, you have so much more to remember and you aren't just made up of this pain that is so so heavy for you. This is not all that you are, I've seen what you forgot, I promise it's still there. You're still a person. Hold on).

"What do you know about me? - Everything" (I have seen your whole mind - the good and the bad - and still I came out here to ask you to stay. Because nothing in there scares me and in fact it gives me hope. I need you. We could do something great together.)

"I know what this means to you but you have to let go!" (They'll succeed in killing you if you let them. You deserve better)

"There's a mutant already here!" (Thank god! And you're incredible!)

"I don't want your pain. They sent back the wrong man." (Proceeds to cry at Logan's life and is amazed at his strength, you poor poor man. Is inspired to keep going from Logan's strength).

"I've seen what Shaw did to you." (Shaw did it to you. It's not a shameful secret and you aren't Frankenstein's Monster. It won't stop me from seeing who you really are. You're free).

"I feel your agony." (Come back to us. I can help you. You're not alone. You never had to leave. You still have a family. Grieve with us.)

"Oh but I do" (I survived. So will you. I didn't have help and I also had parents who didn't love me. I won't let that happen to you or leave you alone. I promise. You can sleep. You're safe. I'll protect you.)

#charles xavier #cherik #he def grows as a person and telepth too as time goes on he learns how to better communicate his empathy

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mariasont · 5 months ago

Note

I'm so glad you love writing for bimbo reader x Hotch because i love READING them so much 💕

What about reader getting jealous a witness or unsub is flirting with Hotch? Kinda like how the prostitutes are always flirting with Reid but this time it's Hotch getting all awkward and reader misreading it and thinking he's interested back?

Love your stuff!

JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY - A.H

a/n: hi so im so glad you love bimbo reader 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 that literally makes me so happy, thank you sm for requesting i hope you like that <3

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

warnings: reader being jelly, kind of out of character for bimbo reader honestly, she’s also a little flustered in this fic which also feels out of character but i kind of like it idk lmk what yall think

wc: 1.2k

The space between her hand and Hotch's bicep was dangerously narrow. She was saying something--something that was way flirtier than the situation required. Matter of fact than any situation required. Your pink nails, the same shade as your favorite bubblegum lip gloss, dug into the flesh of your palm, your lips forming a tight line as you fought the green jealousy that bubbled up like champagne.

It was fine. You were fine.

Until it wasn't.

She flashed a smile at Hotch, one that was undeniably pretty which only served to make your blood boil a degree hotter.

She was stunning, black hair, red lips, perfect skin. You loved yourself, obviously, but it was not in your character to deny that this woman was gorgeous by nature and she was edgeding her chair closer to him.

"Thank you so much for your help today, Agent Hotchner." Her voice had climbed a few pitches in comparison than when she was talking privately with you. "Is it okay if I give you my number, just in case I think of anything else?"

"Of course." Hotch was smiling-- no beaming--at the woman, reaching into his pocket to grab his business card.

Your lashes fluttered up and down is disbelief, jealously rolling off of you in category nine waves. You folded your hands on top of your skirt, cleaning and unclenching until you started to lose feeling in your fingertips.

You're fine, just take a deep breath. Hotch was simply being polite. That's it. But the rationalized thoughts in your head did not match the quicksand feeling in your stomach.

Unfortunately for you, showing and expressing your feelings in an appropriate manner had always been a struggle. Articulating when things were bothering you was a foreign language to you. The other side to this was you had no logical reason to feel the way you did. He was your boss, and you were his assistant. He wasn't your boyfriend. But that fine distinction did nothing to dampen the primal impulse to reach across the desk and drag the woman by her hair.

That was dramatic, really. It was unfair to project your ugly feelings onto her when in all honestly, in her position, you’d be doing the exact same.

As much as you loved your job and adored your boss, sometimes you wished you didn’t work for him so you could push the boundaries just a little bit when it came to flirting with him.

Thankfully, for the sake of your career, the woman gone before your rash instincts could manifest into action. You needed to get a grip and possibly go reapply your lipstick.

You spent the majority of the day, from that point, avoiding Hotch like the plague. You weren't quite equipped to sift through the emotional chaos brewing inside you, especially when your focus needed to be on getting your tasks done, not on who Hotch might be interested in. It didn't matter if he liked that woman. You could cope. Maybe.

When you did have to come into contact with him, you found yourself acting like a wounded animal. The sight of his face only served to replay that stupid smile he flashed at her. He was probably already in love, daydreaming about their shared life ahead. Their three kids, the white picket fence, maybe even a dog.

You flipped open your makeup mirror, dabbing powder on to your nose and forehead while mentally reminding yourself to pull it together and behave like the grown-up you were supposed to be.

No sooner had you left the bathroom had you crashed into something, legs betraying you as you lurched forward, nearly spiraling to the floor. Your hands shot out, closing around the nearest object which felt to be the lapels of a suit.

Your gaze snapped into sharp focus. Yes, definitely the lapels of a suit, and not just any suit--It was Hotch's.

Fantastic.

You quickly retracted your hands, letting them hang limply by your sides as you took a cautious step backward.

His brows furrowed, lips tipping downward as he absently adjusted his watch. "You okay?"

"Peachy!”

That was too much.

You attempted to sidestep him, but he anticipated the move. His arm reached out with surprising speed, fastening around your wrist to keep you in place.

"Hey." It was funny how a single word in that deep voice of his was enough to make your heart beat a little faster. "You've been avoiding me all day. I don't want to pry, but if there's something I've done to upset you, I'd like to know so we can clear the air."

"What?" you responded too quickly, avoiding his gaze as your hand went to your neck. "Oh, no, no, it's not you, sir. I just... I think I might be catching a cold or something. Just feeling a bit woozy."

You were definitely coming down with something—it was a green, nasty disease that had your judgement in a clouded haze.

He smiled, making your heart go into overdrive. "You're a terrible liar."

"No idea what you mean." Your voice went up an octave too high. "But, um, there's a bunch of witnesses I need to follow up with. There's this one who was... really eager. Maybe she'd respond better to you?"

There was a pause before Hotch spoke, his voice low and certain. "I've seen many reactions from you, but jealousy? Is that what's happening here?"

You blinked rapidly, heat rising to your cheeks. "Jealous? That's... that's ridiculous."

"I'd like to think I know you better than that." He gave you a deadpan look. "You've been avoiding eye contact, you've been unusually quiet, and I didn't necessarily miss that look you gave her."

You swallowed hard, proving him right and looking anywhere but him as you fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve.

"It's not... it's just, you know... I don't know, the smile you gave her, it seemed a bit unprofessional to me."

Your words tumbled out in a flustered rush, not capable of taking them back as you realized the absurdity of it all.

Hotch's eyes crinkled as he smiled. "Unprofessional? Did it look like I was flirting? Because that would be a first."

"No, I don't think you were flirting, not exactly." You should stop yourself while you're ahead. "But she was, and you didn't exactly shut it down."

Hotch's face was unreadable. "Honestly, I didn't even realize she was flirting with me. Even so, I'm curious—why would that bother you?"

"Well, I mean, I... It doesn't, not really. I just think we should all be focused, that's all," you managed, voice faltering as you tried to be convincing.

"I assure you, my focus is on all the right places," Hotch said, taking a step closer that almost felt invasive. His gaze dropped to your lips momentarily before snapping back up to your eyes.

"O-okay."

The closeness of him was sending your body into overdrive, the room suddenly feeling too small, his presence way too intense.

"And just for the record," Hotch said over his shoulder as he turned to leave. "If I were to flirt, trust me, it would be with someone who already had all my attention."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @freyy253 @broadwaytraaaaash

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cheqorb · 8 days ago

Text

More Between Us.

You’ve always been just friends, but they can’t ignore how their heart races whenever you’re near.

FEAT. Isagi, Bachira

NOTES. probably my most tooth-rotting post yet! annnd I totally forgot I had this in my drafts Bring this duo back to me though pleasj

ISAGI is easygoing, and mild-mannered by nature (though perhaps his rivals disagree on that). It’s literally harder to not be friends with him. Your relationship was equally good, nothing particularly special and not abysmal. The type of friends who might talk on the way to class if you spot each other, but never go out of their way to do so either.

If asked, you wouldn’t even say best friends; he’s too busy with his teammates, and you have your own friend group.

See, Isagi enjoys thinking about stuff in a logical sense, using reason and evidence to support his ‘theory’. Both in real life and in football.

So before he even comes to the conclusion of a crush, firstly, there’s the small details he picks up about you.

Your eyes shift colour slightly if the sun hits them right. But, he reckons that happens with everyone’s eyes. Your eyes crinkle upwards when you smile, and maybe even dimples form on your cheeks as you do so. He likes seeing people smile, and yours is… in a way, cuter than anyone else’s? If he had to rank smiles, he’d put yours near the top. All hypothetical, obviously!

He’s always been observant, even as a kid, so Isagi figured he was just feeling a little more insightful as of late but it doesn’t stop there.

Suddenly, Isagi finds himself unconsciously lingering in places he knows you'll be. He tells himself it's just coincidence, but deep down, he has a feeling that he’s seeking you out more often.

Practicing with his team becomes a lot more strategic, with him making sure he's near your usual route home (not in a stalker way, at least, he hopes not), and just on time so that he can ‘bump into you’ and walk together.

And he lives in the complete opposite direction, so, while you don’t mind his presence, you find it a little odd.

Isagi begins to remember every little thing you mention, even the small stuff, like your favorite snack or the song you've been listening to on repeat. Next thing you know, he’s casually surprising you with them, acting like it’s no big deal but loves it when you get visibly excited about it.

He fumbles with his words a little more around you now, overthinking simple things that never used to bother him. It’s not like he’s shy (actually one of the best communicators out of everyone), he just doesn’t want to mess up or make you think he’s weird!

If he says something that could be interpreted as mildly creepy, he’s actually the first one to call it out and apologise over and over again. Beats himself up about it at home, even if you thought it was mildly funny that he knew what you were doing last week Tuesday at around 5:06PM…

When his teammates joke about him having a crush, he laughs it off, but there’s always a little pink in his cheeks that he hopes you don’t notice.

He'll start texting you first more often, just to share something funny or ask for your opinion on something trivial. It’s an excuse, really, just to have another reason to talk to you.

Also catches himself smiling whenever he sees a notification from you pop up on his phone, and his heart does a little flip when he reads your replies, no matter how mundane they are. Literally a “hey, I’m bored. Wanna hang out” is enough for him to lose sleep over it.

When you two do eventually go to said hang out, he pays extra attention to you: whether it's making sure you’re comfortable, or that you’ve got enough to eat, he’s always subtly looking out for you.

Despite all these signs, Isagi convinces himself it’s better this way — giving you small hints for you to understand rather than straight-up confessing. If you notice them and accept, great! If you notice and don’t accept, that’s fine too, he hopes you can remain friends though!

If you’re completely oblivious, well… he’ll muster up the courage to say it outright.

You and BACHIRA are like two peas in a pod together! Where there’s one, the other’s probably lurking nearby somewhere. Every second of every day seems to be spent with each other (and to anybody with common sense, you two already look like you’re dating).

When the crush starts, he thinks about you more than he already did, if that were even possible. Every little thing you do seems to make his heart race, but he sorta brushes it off as just excitement from being with his best friend.

Kind of a trickier situation than Isagi’s one this way though, because now you’re so close, Bachira doesn’t even feel that different about you. He might not even realise it’s romantic until his mother points it out in the midst of another one of his rambling sessions. About you, that is.

I won’t sugarcoat it; he’s nervous if anything. You’re one of the few friends he has and genuinely seem to care and like about him and if he ruins your friendship over his feelings, he’d be devastated.

But he’s back to his usual self and gains a little confidence after some encouragement from others!

Bachira’s clinginess ramps up a notch, but it’s so typical of him that you might not even notice. He’s constantly draping an arm around you, leaning on you, or just being in your personal space as much as possible.

Willing to share anything and everything with you. For example, if it’s snacks he’s got, he’s always picking out the best pieces just for you and handing them over with a cute smile.

Bachira finds himself staring at you a lot more now. Sometimes you’ll catch him and he’ll just laugh it off with a playful comment, but on the inside, his mind is racing with thoughts he can’t quite put into words.

When you talk, he listens with full attention, his usual playful demeanor softening into something more tender. He hangs onto your every word like it’s the most important thing he’s ever heard — and you could literally be talking about a bug you saw on the sidewalk this morning.

If you ever need anything, Bachira’s the first one to jump in and help, no questions asked. He’d go out of his way just to make you smile, even if it means a truckload of extra effort on his part.

Sometimes, he hints at deeper feelings in his usual roundabout way — in little jokes that might just have a hint of truth behind them. But he always plays it off as just that, a joke.

If you’re feeling down, he’s the first to notice, offering comfort in the form of goofy antics or just sitting with you in silence if that’s what you want.

If you ever confront him directly and ask if he feels something more than just being friends, Bachira might just spill everything in a rush of words; unable to keep his feelings hidden any longer. But until then, he’s content simply being by your side, even if it means he isn’t being entirely honest to himself.

#cheq. writes #cheq. bllk #isagi x reader #bachira x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock imagines #bllk imagines #blue lock headcanons #blue lock x gender neutral reader #bllk x reader #isagi x you #bachira x you #bllk fluff

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legendofmorons · 3 months ago

Note

Your honor, I humbly submit an idea that has not left me alone for a solid few months. Seriously. I can’t escape it.

Reader is a hero. Well, kinda. They are a hero in their dreams in the most literal sense of the phrase.

When they were younger, they had this incredibly strong love for the Legend of Zelda and Mario and all manner of games where you could simply help people for the sake of doing good. They weren’t too shocked when their dreams took a more realistic turn. As they slept, they felt like they were living a second life where they were the hero. They would go around solving problems, collecting items, and generally saving the day. Some nights, the dreams would be from different times, based on different adventures, or fighting different people.

Those dreams had always felt extremely real to Reader, yet they knew they were just dreams. When morning came, they moved on.

That was the norm until a strange portal appeared in front of them. The summer was coming and they had no better plans, so they threw caution to the wind and stepped through. When they came to, they found themselves clad in the same clothes they wore in every dream, surrounded by the items they had grown so familiar with adventure after adventure.

They had gathered their things, realizing they instinctively knew how to fight, similar to what had happened on that first night. They wandered the area, heroic persona seemingly taking control, heading towards a town and immediately solving problems.

In fact, that was how they found the chain, while attempting to solve another problem. Something told them to keep their name close to their chest and they weren’t in the business of going against their gut, so they listened. They used a nickname in a group full of nicknames.

A long while of traveling and growing trust (and one particularly heated story rendition where the reader just plain forgot to censor their name) and Reader had shared their name with the group. They were met with stunned silence which was, admittedly, not the reaction they were expecting.

As it turned out, each of those dreams became stories to these heroes, acting as a guide on how to act, what to try. In their eyes, Reader was a hero of story and legend, someone kids played at being.

How do you think the boys would move forward from this?

-VS Anon

Dreamscape

Pairing: Chain & reader

Rating: G

Notes: (Y/n/n) - Ypur nick name. I wrote the opening and then skipped the middle, I hope it's okay. I just really wanted to write the meeting.

Summary: You find yourself in the world of the dreams you played hero in, but apparently those dreams were more real than you thought.

Warnings: none.

Other: I saw you submitted something along these lines more recently. VS, do you want a second take on this? I am willing to do another take, haha. As always, if I missed anything, please let me know

-------

You have always had a vivid imagination, at least according to those around you. But you can't really argue. After all, your dreams used to feel like a whole other world. A second life of sorts.

You'd loved games where you played a hero. Legend of Zelda? Amazing. Mario games? Absolutely.

Over the course of your life, you built what would have been quite the legacy in your dreams. You had countless items and had even been blessed by a sages.

Summer hangs in the breezes, due to start any day.

So, when a strange purple portal with a spooky energy opens up before you, you go through it. You don't have much else going on, and don't imagine anything too weird coming of it.

A shield, that was gained from a forest. Wooden with metal enforced ages and a beautiful swirling design carved into it.

You emerge in a small clearing with birds song cheerily overhead.

In front of you is a pile of items. Items that you know, because you collected them in your dreams.

A sword, gifted by the ruler of a fairy kingdom. The blade is enchanted to never break and to absorb any malice.

A small stachel that clips to a belt that is a bottomless bag. Anything you put in there appears in your hand once you reach in and think

A small cluster of potions. One that heals, one that provides stamina, and one that protects from fire.

Even the small flute from your travels.

"What the hell?" You murmur, looking at your hands.

You realize then, belatedly, that you are in the same outfit from your dreams. The leather armor on your limbs and the breathable fabric comfortable.

This is officially Weird, with a capital 'W'. This- doesn't seem like a dream. Not at all.

Ypu gather your items, securing them as you have many times before. You brush yourself off and look around for more details.

The clearing you're in is nice. Wild flowers are scattered about and there's a rabbit at the edge.

A river runs through it.

Well, your best bet is to find a town or something, and you heard once that towns are often near rivers. So, in theory, if you follow the river, you'll be okay.

You head off, following the river downstream and hoping for the best.

-------

After two days of travel you have come to a few more conclusions.

First of all, you can fight. Like- really well. You fought of monsters that included a lynel, some lizards, and several bokoblins.

Second of all, walking for two days straight sucks but also you aren't as exhausted as you probably should be.

And third of all, this is definitely not a dream.

You're starting to wonder if this second life was ever a dream.

The third day you find a small town, but a town nonetheless. Thank whatever it is that looks out for you.

You make your way towards the store, hoping to stock up on arrows and food. You've accepted this is your life for the moment, might as well be prepared.

Unfortunately, while lost in thought you trip and stumble into someone. You are both sent sprawling to the ground.

With a groan, you rollout of them. You sit up and say, "I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, are you okay?" A male voice asks.

You turn to look at him and nearly chokes. You find yourself staring at the Link from Skyward Sword.

Okay, this is a lot.

"Uh-" You manage eloquently. Blinking as you try to formulate some kind of response.

"Did you hit your head?" Another male asks, he has pink hair. That's another Link, the one from Link to the past and s several other games.

"I think I might have." You frown, pushing to your feet.

You look around the group and find it made up entirely of Links from different games.

"That's no good, you need a potion?" Asks Twilight Princess Link.

"No... Just a little dazed." You wave him off, "Ever since I walked through a portal it's been a little weird."

"You walked through a portal too?" Asks Wind Waker Link.

"Yeah... Why?"

"I guess you're supposed to help defeat the shadow." Muses what is probably an older version of Majoras mask Link.

"Maybe."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, I'm Twilight." The Link in a wolf pelt says.

"I'm Time."

"Legend."

"Hi, I'm Wind!"

"Wild."

"I'm Warriors."

"Hyrule!"

"I'm Sky."

"Four."

You know these are all nicknames, so you decide to give your own nick name. You have a feeling your real name will cause- a scene.

"I'm (Y/n/n)."

-------

Time can't stop thinking about the connections between you, (Y/n/n) and the hero (Y/n). You both have the same items, the same personality, and even the same appearances.

The hero you remind him of is legendary, chosen not by Hylia but by a deity before any remembered. A hero chosen Fierce Deity.

He comes back to the conversation in time to catch the tail end of your story.

"Ams then my friend was like "Stop hiding from them, they don't remember ypu tripping two years ago, (Y/n)."

"What?" Hyrule chokes.

"You're name is (Y/n)?"

About time. Fierce purrs from the void inside Time's mind.

"Uh- yeah?"

"You're The (Y/n)?!" Wind demands.

"Oh stars." Time mutters.

"I mean, maybe?"

"You're The one who slayed the hydra of Catan?" Wild blinks.

"Oh. I mean, yeah. That wasn't a big deal." You shrug, "It needed to be done."

"You rode a tornado!" Legend accuses.

"What? No I got swept up in a tornado."

"You knew the original sages before Skyloft even exsisted!" Sky gasps.

"Yeah?"

"You're the biggest hero ever." Warriors manages, sounding awed, "How are you unaware?"

"Uh...I didn't think that stuff mattered?"

"Are you kidding? Kids play games where they pretend to be you." Four says, looking horrified at your unawareness of your importance.

"Oh. Neat?" You say shakily.

This makes no sense, your dreams - if they were ever that - never seemed like you would be a hero of legend important enough to be known millenia later across different timeliness.

"You really don't know." Legend muses wryly.

"Glad I helped?"

"You are telling us all about your adventures." Wind informs you.

#lu #linkeduniverse #misty writes #linked universe x reader #lu four #lu hyrule #lu legend #lu sky #lu time #lu twilight #lu warriors #lu wild #lu wind #Dreamscapes au

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pupmkincake2000 · 10 months ago

Text

Characters study?

Since I play as Gale, I wanted to look at relationships from his side and from my own, since I think that Gale and I have very similar beliefs regarding relationships.

Don't get me wrong, I love Halsin,

he's an incredibly kind and caring teddy bear, but being in a relationship with him is not for everyone. And there are moments in the conversation with him that were very unpleasant for me. But I’m glad that he warned me in advance how he perceives a relationship with someone.

Yes, there are many people who are into polyamorous relationships, but I don’t think Gale is one of them, despite the opportunity to sleep with Halsin even when playing as Gale (I think that in this case some lines should not be available at all as it was with the Dark Urge, when you cannot resist your nature, even when playing a good character).

Now I will explain why.

Halsin honestly admits that monogamy is not for him. He considers us someone special, in fact, declares his love, but immediately says that we are not that special at all and he, even having entered into a relationship with us, will still be free to sleep with other people.

His words are not a lie, but they seem to contradict each other.

That is... there are more people who want to be something special, who want exclusivity from those they are dating than those who would prefer polyamory, I believe. In the case of Halsin, you will simply be just one of his huge number of lovers, and, perhaps, in another couple of decades, he will say those words about love and specialness to someone else, as he spoke to us. It's not mine cup of tea, to be honest. I am a selfish person, and I would like to be special for someone I love. And I really didn’t like that Halsin, without even knowing whether such a relationship suits me, says he hopes to sleep with the person I am dating too. This remark made me understand that although Halsin is still my type of men in appearance and character, he absolutely does not fit into my understanding of relationships, love and specialness. Let me remind you, I play Gale's origin and I am sure that Gale would also refuse and be disappointed.

Just like Astarion. And I will now explain why.

Literally Gale's entire problem and trauma is based on the fact that he wants to be loved,

he wants to be cared for, seen, considered special (which in the case of Halsin will be impossible), he wants to be visible and significant. I know that playing his origin you are still able to choose any lines but... if you play Tav and romance him, Gale does not agree to share his love with someone else and does not agree to be shared too. I believe that Gail is monogamous, and not just monogamous, but he won't allow the thought that his loved one could be with someone else or that he himself could be with someone else while already being in a relationship. Such people rarely fall in love, they are like the wolves Halsin spoke about, who choose a lover for the rest of their lives. And no, I don’t think Mystra was such a lover. I'm sure Gale wants in a relationship not so much exclusivity, but to have something of his own. Something that no one can take away from him. Someone only his.

The same story with Astarion.

He hasn’t had anything of his own for 200 years, and despite his mannerisms and flirting with everyone, he also wants to have something of his own, something that no one will take away from him, and something that will belong to him and to no one else. He is also desperately looking for someone who will be his. Only his. Yes, he agrees to a threesome, he agrees to share his lover with Halsin, but he clearly does not want this and agrees only because he is afraid of losing his love. He refuses to have sex with the drow twins, and if you agree, he will most likely end the romance with you. He is very afraid of not satisfying his lover; he wants to be desired and loved. He and Gale are very much alike when it comes to the relationship, although their reactions are different. Both want exclusivity. One speaks about it directly, the second one shouts about it with his behavior and body language.

I think that's why I love the ship so much.

They both want the same thing, they just express their desires differently.

#bg3 halsin #halsin #bg3 #bg3 gale #bg3 astarion #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #astarion ancunin #astarion x gale #bloodweave #baldur's gate 3 #astarion

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officialdaydreamer00 · 1 year ago

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Good Old-fashioned Lover boy

in which he pines for you in his unique ways

format: song lyrics drabbles

characters: cater, jade, floyd, malleus

content: pining; no thoughts, head empty, only fluff; irene's favourite love languages: singing, dancing, physical touch and quality time; severe brainrot for queen's GOFLB

reader is not yuu, reader is gender neutral

song used:

"I can dim the lights and sing you songs full of sad things

We can do the tango, just for two"

cater would take you to the light music club room an hour or two before the official meeting time. he would strum his guitar in a more gentle manner than his usual upbeat style, and he would sing songs that he thought you would love, keeping your song preference in mind. there were times he would play songs you both knew by heart, and he would extend his hand to you, as you both dance away in the empty club room. just the two of you.

he might not say it out loud, but he adored those moments. they were short but sweet, and he cherished them with his entire heart so long as it is still beating. because those moments are the ones he shares with you.

"I can serenade and gently play on your heartstrings

Be your Valentino, just for you"

jade leech is a busy man. besides his schoolwork, his role as the vice housewarden, and his own club, he barely has much time to be with you. and oh how he hates it.

the next time he sees you, he would invite you to his club room, keeping you close to him as you both take care of the mushrooms. he would even hum the merfolks' entrancing melodies that he learned before his venture on land. oh how he adores that cute little blush you adorn every time his gloved hand brushes yours, or when you sneak glances at him thinking that he wouldn't notice. it puts a silly smile on his face, knowing one day you would sing with him a perfectly harmonised melody of your own.

he doesn't mind waiting for you, he is a patient man after all. he doesn't mind, as long as you choose him in the end.

"Hey, boy, where'd you get it from?

Hey, boy, where did you go?

I learned my passion in the good old-fashioned school of lover boys"

there are many words people would use to describe floyd. spontaneous, unpredictable, bat-shit crazy. but never in his life has he heard someone calling him "passionate", and that dumb brave soul being you.

so naturally, he was intrigued. the little shrimpy wasn't afraid of him? but you were so tiny and fragile and cute, he could just eat you up! he decided to stick with you for a few days, just to make sure :)

you really weren't afraid of him or his infamous squeezes, you even reciprocated most of them! floyd was ecstatic, he ultimately decided to greet you every day with squeezes and hugs reserved just for you shrimpy!

you wouldn't refuse his growing affections for you right, shrimpy? after all, he has binded his heart with yours, he likes you too much to let you go <3

"I'd like for you and I to go romancing

Say the words, your wish is my command"

malleus is THE textbook definition of a good old-fashioned lover boy.

a literal crowned prince, the future ruler of a land, and one of the most powerful mages in all of twisted wonderland. that's who he is. to say you have someone of such status falling for you, people would brush it off as a joke due to how utterly ridiculous that claim sounded.

of course, outsiders wouldn't know the entire details. your late night rendezvous are something malleus looks forward to the most in his years long time being alive. you are the first ever friend he made, and the only friend he had, it is only natural he grew emotionally attached to you. his affections were more and more obvious with each night you spent together, talking and dancing the night away, how his eyes were on you, and you only, and how he gave your hand a tender kiss at the end of each meeting before he (regretfully) had to return to his dorm.

he hoped you could reciprocate his love one day, and he would wait for you, until the end of time.

taglist🏷️ @azulashengrottospiano @aqua-beam @identity-theft-101 @shyhaya @ceruleancattail @dove-da-birb @moonlit-midnight @hisui-dreamer @cecilebutcher @leonistic @ang33333333l @siren-serenity @krenenbaker @twistwonderlanddevotee @axvwriter @minimallyminnie @iseethatimicy @siphoklansan @bun-lapin @red-viewe @thehollowwriter @jaylleoo14 @wordycheeseblob

reblogs are appreciated!

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briarandhissecretgarden · 2 months ago

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A Minecraft Movie Trailer Dive

Alright!! I have a hard time talking about things in a more real? manner like this but I feel like it's important to be honest and share thoughts.

So the Minecraft movie trailer is a trailer that exists and it's incredibly upsetting to say the least. i had always had hopes of it being entirely animated and be a sort fo film version of Minecraft: Story Mode but it's clearly not that at all. It's a shame too, it's incredibly disappointing to know it's live action as I am a HUGE advocate for animated movies and blockbusters and such. I think Minecraft is a game that is so fantastical and developed and normalized within it's own plane of existence that trying to translate it as anything other than an animated movie fundamentally goes against what the game is supposed to be.

Minecraft is creativity incarnate. It is a canvas for you to do quite literally anything with. And i think turning it into a pathetic cash grab live action movie is about as hard away as you can get from it's core values. You lazily slap real people to into the game to mock and laugh at and disrupt the flow of it's own universe. Treating this game as if it is nothing but a child' plaything despite the fact that people of any age can play it and find joy and excitement. I think the jokes and the overall childish view of the game is disgusting I think it belittles it, I think Minecraft as a whole, encourages all ages and helps develop personal understanding of the world around us and our own ideals. Maybe we'd like to build a large house, go on, here are hundreds of blocks to choose from! Loads of colors, be free!!! Perhaps you'd like to calm down and play with friends or even challenge yourselves, go on with multiplayer! There's servers and achievements!!! There's plenty of things to do. And I think one of the most important things is that, none of this is wrong or weird. None of this is an incorrect way of playing, nothing you do is bad. This isn't supposed to be humbling this isn't supposed to be stressful or something to laugh at. Your desires and plans are valid.

Perhaps as an autistic individual myself, I find that so comforting. I understand it's just a movie, but it's a movie that fundamentally gets everything wrong about this lovely game. I don't understand how these trailers and jokes and plot points are treated as if it's okay to be bad if it's for children. It's saddening.

Either way, moving onto a different subject that I have much more knowledge about and care too much of, the Piglins.

This trailer shows off that Piglins are meant to be the main antagonists, as well as the The Seer having a role in the plot. I have many problems with this, and I will be discussing this through the lens of my own experiences, especially as it comes to my race. (I am latino for those who don't know)

First things first, no, the Piglins aren't evil by any means. I know a lot of media has a very black and white view of them but honestly, take a moment to think about this.

Piglins are minding their business, having fun, living their lives, when a bunch of explorers come barging into their home, exploiting them for their willingness to barter, stealing their valuables right from their houses, and on top of that, being killed and hurt because they dare fight back and attempt to protect one another.

To me, it's incredibly disheartening to see Piglins being portrayed as some kind of aggressors, savages and barbaric monsters all because they want to protect their way of life. I don't understand how emotionless people seem to act toward them. They aren't even physically accurate to the game models. They wear clothes, they use tools, they talk amongst themselves. It's very disgusting to see how this group that is CLEARLY INTELLIGENT BTW (they make music, tools, clothes, armor, buildings, homes and have a complex social system) being drawn and shown in less clothes, more violent tendencies, a more destroyed home and life, even showing violence among themselves to portray them as anything other than the interesting and complex species they are.

I'm just tired of the racist undertones that most Piglin plots seem to have. I find it insulting to them, i find it concerning regarding the language used. 'barbaric' 'crude' 'savage'

Just makes me angry.

#minecraft #a minecraft movie #the minecraft movie #minecraft movie #press t to talk

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toomanywatchers · 7 months ago

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My Thoughts on WatcherTV

Hi, I am here to put away my meme-making skills to express my genuine thoughts on Watcher’s announcement; WatcherTV. Before I get into it, this is for any of those at Team Watcher who might be seeing this message: Just know we love and support everything you do for us. Y’all truly do not get the credit you rightfully deserve. I hope with this change to a separate streaming platform you guys can create the content you want to make, pull in creators that you’ve always wanted to work with, and share voices/topics that may have not had the chance to shine because of YouTube’s heinous algorithm. I know myself, and many others, are excited to see what WatcherTV brings. For instance, I already watched Road Files and the trailer for Travel Season on the new platform. And guess what? I love it! I just love BTS-centric shows and seeing the vibes established on Travel Season. Along with more Lizzie/possibly-more-sightings-of-other-Team-Watcher-peeps content?!? If this is what holds for the future of WatcherTV- oh boy, do you already have me more on board than I already was.

I also send my sincerest regards too. We all know that the internet can be a negative space with many sharing their uncensored thoughts, and I hope none of you take the hate to heart. I also hope you can take the weekend to breathe, drink some water, spend time with loved ones, and celebrate this huge step you all are embarking on. I am truly excited to see what is to come on WatcherTV will be there with each step to support.

Now to my fellow fans of Watcher. I understand the concern and it is okay to have concerns. It shows that you truly care for Watcher as a company and don’t want anything negative to come about with this decision. BUT on the other hand, spreading hateful messages? Not. Fucking. Cool. It is quite simple to express concern in an appropriate/respectful manner. Remember, this is a company full of living and breathing human beings. Trying to justify “who is to blame” and pointing fingers is just childish. Guess what? No one is to blame, it was a company-wide decision that they all made and spent months upon months to create.

Yes, it does suck to see content that was free for years be moved to a paywall, but remember they are independent artists that have to pay employees, freelancers, locations, and themselves! Have we not been advocating for fair pay among creative individuals when it comes to WGA/SAG-AFTRA strikes and then AI art taking jobs away from artists? If this is what the company needs to do to survive while not sacrificing the high-quality content they make for us, then we should give it a shot! Plus with the current discount available, the subscription is not that pricey for the amount of shows they produce! Literally for January and a bit of February, they were uploading 2 podcasts and 2 separate shows… that’s a lot of content! If you have never sat down to produce, direct, write, perform, edit, and all other aspects it takes to make a fine-polished YouTube video, it takes a lot of work!

To add to this, Watcher already makes content that far expands past what is recognized as normal for YouTube. They build individual sets for each show that is produced, and they travel all over the place for Ghost Files and soon-to-be Travel Season. It costs money to produce content and YouTube?- It’s just not how it was years and years ago. Views on long-form content have been dipping and with the over-saturation of sponsorships, I am assuming they are not making enough profit to sustain the business on the current platform. Also, monetization on YouTube has been a killer for many channels because of vulgar language issues and just being demonetized for no rhyme or reason. By moving over to a streaming platform of their own they can continue to create what they want to create, and make it without any restrictions or rules holding them back. Too pricey? Find some friends who also like the content and split the pricing evenly. Only want to watch certain shows? Then make a monthly subscription for the time that show airs. There are many solutions that you guys see as a huge problem, and don’t get me wrong I have my concerns. I shared those concerns briefly in my theory post about them still being a young channel, but I’m also unaware of the actual analytics and revenue that is currently being brought in currently to the company from YouTube alone.

It’s a huge step that has garnered negative feedback from those spreading hateful messages about the company and to other individuals for supporting the boys *cough cough I see your messages and comments cough cough* is truly uncalled for. I will be taking a bit of a break from my socials as I wait out the storm though if I have the energy, I might stream on Twitch again and talk through this with y’all if you can sit down and have a civil discussion. As for now, it’s your choice if you continue to support. My goal is to continue to make funny little memes, and if I am allowed to I will be working on a crack video pt.2 after Travel Season premieres. Remember to be kind and to put yourselves in their shows. Just the boys even though they are receiving the brunt of the hate, but for everyone at the company.

Your local memester watcherina - Fritz.

#watcher #watcher entertainment #ryan bergara #shane madej #steven lim #watcher tv #my thoughts

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nukaberries · 7 months ago

Note

How do you think your top three New Vegas companions (or all if you want to) react to a courier admitting that they have chronic migraines from their head injury that chems can’t dull? (Arcade ready with a whole lecture on chem addiction and courier’s like ‘I just want my brain to stop screaming at me… Both kinds of literally :( )

I FEEL LIKE MY TOP 3 ARE SO BORING but they're also safe choices i think?? rex is definitely top 3 but i don't think he'd be a particularly interesting option, so i hope you don't mind arcade, boone and cass <3

New Vegas Companions React to a Courier with Chronic Migraines (Contains: Arcade Gannon, Boone and Cass)

Arcade Gannon We already know he's gonna be giving the courier a lecture on the effects of chem addiction, that goes without saying. He's been in Freeside long enough to see how addiction has affected others around him and he's actually grown to like the courier, so there's no way he's going to watch the same thing happen to them. He knows he can't stop the migraines altogether, but he's willing to be patient with the courier when they do come around and make sure his friend gets the best care possible. He'll likely suggest that the courier lets the Followers try and treat them, since that's probably the best medical care they could get, but if they don't want to go with that option, he won't push.

Craig Boone While his own issues with head pain are nothing compared to the courier's, Boone's suffered from his fair share of stress migraines, with everything that's happened in the past few years. He can sympathise better than the courier may expect and surprisingly enough, he's actually very understanding if Six needs more time to rest up or can't do something on a day where their migraines are worse than usual. He knows the pain and the idea of having to deal with that consistently is a terrifying thought to him, so he can't begin to imagine how the courier managed to keep it together for so long. Boon knows his presence alone can't stop the migraines, but he hopes that it's at least a comfort for the courier.

Cass Any headaches she's suffered from have always been cured by a bottle of whiskey to knock her out for the night, which is the first thing she suggests to Six. Although, when they explain that it's not just your average headache and not even chems are helping anymore, she realises it might take more than alcohol to ease the courier's pain. She finds it quit frustrating at first, when she wants to get back on the road and the courier can hardly lift their head off the ground, but she'd never voice her irritation - it's not like Six can help it. Over time, she becomes more understanding and used to the idea that some days, it's easier on the courier to take a break and try to rest up, she doesn't have the best bedside manner, but she tries to do what she can and it's the thought that counts.

#fallout #fallout headcanons #fallout imagines #fallout x reader #fallout new vegas #arcade gannon #craig boone #rose of sharon cassidy

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popjunkie42 · 1 month ago

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Chains Chapter Four

Read on AO3

Lucien steals Feyre away from the safety of the Night Court as she and Rhys train in the Illyrian Steppes. Winnowing her to the Spring Court and Tamlin, Feyre must contend with the consequences of leaving while held against her will.

An ACOMAF Chapter 47 divergence.

Chapter Four: Stand Before in Judgement

Feyre and Rhys decide to find out what's waiting for them beyond her bedroom in Spring. Feyre makes an interesting proposal to avoid bloodshed and what's sure to be a very interesting High Lord's meeting.

Literally all my love to @witch-and-her-witcher and @foundress0fnothing for helping me with this one! I have been struggling with the middle and they are pulling me through like heroes.

Hope you enjoy this one, the drama continues...

With a deep breath, I opened the door to find Lucien alone in the hallway.

To his credit, there was no change in his russet eye as it flickered from my face to the scowling High Lord behind me.

I hated all the rush of emotions that rose up within me now, staring at him. Anger, betrayal, and nervousness.

The last time I had been here, my powers had been a hindrance. Little tricks and blunders that I had begged for help handling.

He hadn’t feared me then. They had thought me something hapless to lock in a cage. To shackle and move through Courts.

Now with Rhys here, they were ready to listen.

He was here to rescue me, but I was angry he had to. The chains still chafed at my wrists and jangled around my ankles.

It annoyed me that Lucien couldn’t take his eyes off of Rhys, his mechanical one clicking and whirring as if assessing. As if Rhys was the only true predator in the room.

Something twisted in me wanted Lucien to look at me like that - to remember my teeth and claws, so he would think twice before coming after me again.

“Something important you wanted to discuss, Lucien?” Rhysand’s sonorous, taunting voice sounded out from behind me. Even in the midst of my annoyance at being dismissed, it was impossible to disregard the fierce being standing behind me, the roil of volatile, angry power at my back, a sharp contrast to his mocking words.

Finally, Lucien’s eye was back on me.

His face was cold and reserved, but I knew him well enough. Sadness and ache and anger were there too. Mirrored back at me, as I still tried to reconcile the past few hours.

Lucien had been my friend. And not thoughtlessly, or out of duty, but hard-won, across the differences of species and our bloody shared history. Even now a small part - all right, a large part of me - ached to see his familiar sharp gaze and strong brow and shining red hair, even with the knowledge that he was capable of such betrayal.

He somehow still looked impossibly put together even in the loose green sleep pants and half unbuttoned flowing white shirt, a reminder of the late hour. Not to be wholly unprepared, a jeweled sword was strapped to his belt and his hair was pulled back out of his face.

Looking over us, Lucien relaxed his stance, bracing an elbow on the pommel in an arrogant manner. “You were sent a message, High Lord. A summons for one day’s time. It looks like you arrived early, and came in uninvited. Trespassing on another High Lord’s territory without an invitation is against our laws.” He cocked his hip to the side. “Not to mention, just poor manners.”

Rhysand smirked, no sign of my friend left on his face, just the contemptuous, cruel High Lord of Night. The face he wore to the world. The face he had let me see through.

“‘Against our laws’? What do the hallowed laws of Prythian say about kidnapping one of my emissaries and holding her hostage? One could argue I’m merely performing a reasonable rescue service. One might argue that the Spring Court are the ones that should be held accountable for misdeeds.”

Lucien sniffed. “Well, when the other High Lords arrive tomorrow, I’m sure you’ll have an easy time convincing them.”

“Do you think I’m a male who relies on convincing arguments, emissary?”

“Are you threatening the High Lords after breaking into the territory of another court, Rhysand?”

The air simmered between them, Rhysand’s smirk and Lucien’s tilted head.

“Lucien,” I interrupted. The two of them could probably banter all night if no one was around to stop them. “What do you want from me? I’m needed back at the Night Court and I’m choosing to leave. Do you intend to stop me?”

That unflappable expression of his finally faltered, just for a moment. His bronze eye whirred and I wondered how he had convinced Tamlin to leave; if he was waiting just around the corner, claws out.

“There are conversations to be had, Feyre. Questions that we need answered.” Lucien kept his eyes locked with mine, even if it was impossible to ignore the endless abyss of night-kissed power whirling just at my shoulder. “One minute you were betrothed and living in Spring, the next our sentries were knocked out cold and you’re in an enemy court. At the very least you owe us an explanation, straight from your own lips.”

“She doesn’t owe you, or him, anything,” Rhysand snarled, darkness beginning to seep past my body and into the hall like a frozen fog. “Unless giving her life wasn’t enough for him? Does she owe him her freedom and free will as well?”

My cheeks burned. Inside I was torn between anger, the panic of being trapped, and mortification. All my mistakes, my uncertainties, played out here on a stage with High Lords and the threat of war. My past love and its stunning implosion, a spark blazing through dried tinder and forests threatening everything in its wake.

Darkness was growing, the manor hall behind us fading into nothing, stars shooting past like snow. The temperature was dropping every second. Rhys’s hand came to my lower back and I could feel his frozen skin even through my leathers.

Lucien swallowed. Took half a step back.

I turned to Rhys behind me. His eyes were full black, his power and the threat of cold destruction leaking from his pores.

That darkness became heavier, thick as paint, and when I turned around Lucien had all but disappeared from view. The walls groaned as if under great pressure, and I heard worried murmurs in the distance, the rattling of glass.

“Feyre?” Lucien’s voice was close, but muffled as if through a storm. It was freezing, my breath coming out as puffs of mist.

But I still felt those cold fingers on my back, the presence of death and endless nightmares at my shoulder. I turned back towards him, finding only the dark.

“Rhys,” I said quietly. With the chains still obstructing my power, I couldn’t feel him, send anything down the bond. But I didn’t need to. Not to feel his wrath and anger filling this place. Protecting me, shrouding me in darkness. His mind lost to his power…ready to tear this manor in two and open up the sky to us. His magic a weapon, in this same place where mine had curled around me as a shield. When he felt me and had torn the wards apart to get to me.

Gently, I placed a hand on Rhysand’s chest. I felt his frozen skin, barely a heartbeat to detect under the fine silk of his shirt.

Even if a part of me was still afraid, unsettled by this place and the High Lord within it, I could not be responsible for more bloodshed, or for Rhys’s territory to suffer. I imagined Cassian and the ruthless Illyrians wreathed in shadow on the border, the destruction they would wreak on this place, the scar it would leave on Prythian. And after so many were still raw after Amarantha…

“It’s all right, Rhys. We can talk.”

Dark feline eyes shifted to me in the shadows, but I wasn’t frightened, even when I saw the depthless power within. He blinked as he took in my face. Muscles relaxed imperceptibly, a deep breath into his lungs. Slowly the darkness ebbed from the hallway, the face lights and candles flickering back to life.

When I turned back, Lucien’s eyes were wide. Rhysand stepped closer to me, my back against his chest, his familiar scent a comfort even if his body still ebbed with frozen rage.

I hadn’t noticed how exhausted Lucien looked. Such tense times and danger simmering under the roof of this manor, filled with memories of bliss and horrors, new ones about to be made.

“Feyre,” Lucien said, nearly a whisper. His eyes flickered from Rhysand and back to me. “We just need to know that you’re safe. I need to know. Tamlin brought you here to Prythian, he feels responsible for you…please,” he said. “Don’t leave without at least having a conversation. If you really are safe, help put it all to rest.”

Rhys had been right - I didn’t owe the Spring Court anything. I had barely escaped this place the first time with my life, my mind intact. Tamlin would continue to rage, would mourn - and I was happy to let him do it while I was nestled in Velaris, far, far away.

But I heard the words Lucien was saying to me. He’ll never rest, he’ll never give up. I would live my immortal life looking over my shoulder, or responsible for his death by Rhys’s hands, or my own, or a war with Prythian divided…an impossible situation.

And some small part of my heart still ached at Lucien’s words. Maybe just for him, the fae who was once my friend…Maybe I could still believe this could be healed with words, that my friend was still within my reach.

An idea was forming in my mind, perhaps too simple, too straightforward to be believed but maybe -

I looked to Rhys again. Even without his mind at the edge of mine, he must have read what was in my face. His expression fell, but his eyes were soft as he

watched me.

Do you trust me? I wanted to ask.

This male had thrown me at the Weaver, dragged me underground to the Bone Carver, and sent me on quests below the waves. He could follow one of my reckless ideas for once.

Besides, I already knew the answer.

I turned again to Lucien, red hair gleaming in the candlelight, the manor quiet even with the coming confrontation.

“Where is he?”

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

Tamlin was waiting for us in the foyer as we descended the stairs, Lucien leading the way.

That beautiful, stern face was filled with concentrated rage.

I still remembered him soft, those green eyes loving once. I wondered if all of that was destroyed forever, my heart still aching and mourning somewhere deep under my anger.

No one will lay a hand on you without your permission, Rhys had said.

I knew he meant it, and I knew he had the power to ensure it. But it was still impossible not to tremble against that raging anger in front of me, so volatile it seemed to pull from the land itself.

Lucien stepped aside at the foot of the stairs, perhaps unwilling to stand between Tamlin and me. But he turned to watch the meeting. A witnessing, Rhys had said. Would Lucien’s presence force both the High Lords to think twice before lashing out at each other? Would mine?

As we came to the bottom of the stairs, Tamlin’s eyes went to Rhys’s hand on the small of my back, a snarl erupting from his lips. His eyes traveled upward and he met Rhysand’s face.

He didn’t even look at me. As if he couldn’t bear to see me, even after dragging me all this way.

“Tamlin.”

It was a hard moment before he pulled his eyes away from Rhysand to look at me. A moment more before they softened on my face.

“I’m here to tell you that I’m safe. That I’m choosing to leave this place. I left, Tamlin. You can’t do this to me.”

“Feyre…” He shook his head, a well of pain behind his eyes. “He’s a monster. I know you think you know him, but you truly can’t know all that he is capable of.”

“I will decide,” I said, my voice surprising me with its strength. Tamlin shook his head, almost pitying. “I will decide where I live, how I live my life. I swore no fealty to you, Tamlin. And you will have to listen to what I say.”

His voice was low and laced with violence as he spoke, turning to Rhys behind me.

“Look what you’ve done to her. You are truly past saving,” he said. “A whoring, murdering villain as vile as the Court you rule over. And I will not let you keep your claws in her much longer.”

I burned in anger at his words.

Rhysand’s answering snarl was irritated, annoyed. “Such savage words from a savage beast.” Claws were sharpened, fangs gleaming. “As far as I’m aware, there’s only one person in this room who has kidnapped, imprisoned, and chained Feyre.” Rhys said.

Tamlin’s self control was ebbing with every moment.

“You will destroy her, Rhysand. Are you so lost that you’d take the innocent who saved us all and corrupt her to your own will?” I felt a flush at the word, my shame still hot within me. That he would think that of me… “Do you think somehow you have a claim to her? That you could ever deserve her, after what you did to her, to all of us?” Tamlin spat.

“I think no such thing,” Rhys said. His voice was tired. He stepped away from me and took a rallying breath, and when he spoke again his tone had changed, back to the bored politician. “I am here because a member of my Court has been taken unlawfully and against her will from spies and intruders in my territory. I am here to see such a grave insult answered. How kind of you to summon us an audience to your swift and sorely needed correction.”

The air between them was charged like a vicious spring storm.

I thought of the first time I had watched the two of them together - when Rhys was the terrible dagger of Amarantha, when I still didn’t know the true horrors buried underground. The new pieces of their history that I had learned fell in place as I watched the building rage and anger crackle between them. A few small years of friendship dwarfed by a lifetime of betrayal and blood.

Lucien risked another step back, fingers twitching as if for his weapon.

I reached out to squeeze Rhys’s frozen hand in my own.

The chains on my wrists clinked and he blinked, head darting towards the sound like a spooked animal. Blinking once, twice. A single finger extending to touch the cursed shackles, as if he had forgotten them.

“Let’s get these off of you, darling.”

“My Lord!” cried a sentry, rather breathlessly. We all turned to see him stumbling into the manor through the front doors, looking panicked.

Behind him was Ianthe, dressed in white.

She slowly entered the room behind us, her contained shuffle a stark contrast to how she usually swayed into any space. Her eyes were blank, distant, as if she were dreaming.

As she moved closer towards us I saw she was in a simple silk white shift, a nightgown almost. The bottoms were caked in dirt. Her feet were bare, covered in mud and grass and small flecks of red blood, as if she had strode through rocks and thorns to get here. While her face was blank, a small sheen of sweat was upon her brow.

Tamlin’s rage was forged anew.

“Rhysand,” he warned.

Rhys ignored him entirely as Ianthe shuffled past Tamlin and stopped in front of me.

She fell to her knees. She held forth a small key in her palm as if in supplication.

Rhys plucked it from her hand and moved toward me, reaching for the chains around my wrists.

“You come here to prove you are not controlling my bride, and then you take the mind of my priestess?” Tamlin snarled from the doorway.

Still, Rhys did not respond. He was focused on his work as he unlocked the shackles from around my left wrist, then my right, letting them fall to the ground with a loud clank.

I sighed as the pain left me instantly and I rubbed at the raw red marks that had formed where they cut into my wrists.

And then Rhysand got down on his knees before me and unlocked the chains around my ankles.

The shackles fell from me.

I was free.

I felt my powers return like a wave. It brushed against my bones, under my skin.

Rhys remained on his knees in front of me, looking up to meet my eyes.

“There,” he said.

I swallowed hard to contain the tightness in my throat, the tears threatening to form. I didn’t care where I was, I wanted to reach for him, to run my fingers through his silky hair.

My friend through many dangers.

“Thank you,” I said quietly.

The quick rush of power back into my body was like a powerful inhale, like snow falling into hot water. My skin burned - not as if under the chains, but a flush, bright feeling of life.

Vases and frames on the walls rattled as my power expanded beyond me, just a little bit wild. It reared up inside me like a cat rushing between my legs, ready to play.

So strange - this power, this illicit and accidental gift that was now so much a part of me. I hadn’t realized how much I relied on it until it was gone, hadn’t understood how much it felt like me.

I felt the soft scrape of gentle talons against my mental shields. Asking. I opened a sliver to let him in, strengthening the walls as I rebuilt them around him.

There you are. His voice was a gentle purr in my mind. An embrace. I had missed it, missed him. I sent the feeling towards him and his eyes gleamed.

I was different - and once, in this very room, it had felt frightening and lonely and mysterious. But it had blossomed under training - under Rhys, his attention, as he didn’t fear what I was capable of, but fed it, taught it, honed it until it was as secondary as breathing.

The glass chandelier rumbled as I breathed deep.

I wondered if Tamlin remembered what I had told him so long ago - wondered if he remembered promising to love me, thorns and all. Because there was something dark and not quite so innocent inside of me that relished the wide eyes of Tamlin and Lucien at my display of magic. Maybe there were two High Lords and another’s son in the room, but I would let them know I was a force to be reckoned with as well.

And now, my head was clear.

I had things to do.

“Tamlin,” My firm voice surprised even me. Silence filled the echoing foyer.

I took a breath, feeling all the powerful fae in the room and all the attention on me again. “There’s only one question between us, isn’t there? Only one thing you need to know for certain.”

Tamlin lifted his chin, Lucien’s golden eye whirred at me, and I knew Rhys was watching me as tense as a snare line.

“If you knew beyond a doubt that Rhysand wasn’t controlling my mind, if I could prove to you that his magic hasn’t made my decisions for me, you would let me go. Surely you wouldn’t keep me here as a prisoner if you knew I chose to be elsewhere, my mind my own.”

-Feyre…Rhys was in my head, a warning grumble.

Tamlin’s jaw was tight, and I almost felt the grinding of his teeth in my skull. I continued: “You believe I’m in danger. You believe Rhysand is controlling my mind, to get back at you, to hurt me, or for some other scheme. And if I’m not - if I’m safe, and I made my decision to leave you and the Spring Court of my own free will, you would have to let me go.”

“What are you proposing?”

-Yes, Feyre, what?

“What if we made a bargain? To tell the truth. You, me and Rhysand. A limited number of questions, a limited amount of time. We agree to be truthful, and we can determine what to do next without involving all the High Lords.”

Lucien and Tamlin shared a look, something active and interested that twisted my stomach.

I knew it was risky, I knew the High Lords had many, many secrets and even more feelings between them that neither would want to reveal.

But a High Lord’s council, war, Hybern - these things were more important.

-Feyre…

-Tell me Rhys. Tell me how else to convince him. He’ll never stop this unless he knows the truth.

-He has to accept the truth, and that’s the harder thing. You can’t force him to do that.

-So what do you propose?

-You know what I propose. Let me scramble his mind and Beron can come pick apart the Court tomorrow. Let Prythian sort it out while we’re far away from here.

-Rhysand.

He lifted an eyebrow.

-What would Amren say about that? I thought you were supposed to be the responsible ancient High Lord, plotting three steps ahead of everyone…how does wiping out a court help us in a war?

-Did you just say I was Ancient?

-Yes, practically one foot in the grave.

A slight smile on his lips, but it was quickly gone, his shoulders sagging.

-You may be right, Feyre, but you’ll have to forgive me for being more sensitive when your safety is concerned.

-I’m not worth a war. I don’t want one in my name.

“What’s going on here?”

Tamlin’s booming voice knocked me out of our conversation, and I realized with a jolt we had been staring at each other, speaking in our heads.

“You expect us to make a bargain with you about Rhysand’s control over your mind while you’re in each other’s heads, right in front of us?” Lucien scoffed.

“I don’t recall you being a part of this agreement, Vanserra.”

“If we agree -” I cut in. “Three of us: the same number of questions. One hour. And we agree to tell the truth to every question asked.”

Everyone in the room was silent, glances exchanged. Tamlin tilted his head towards Rhysand, a challenge. “And you agree to this?”

-I know it’s unfair of me to ask you to do this. If it’s too much risk, we’ll find another way.

-I would go to war for you, Feyre. I would tear this place apart brick by brick. I can have a conversation with Tamlin for an hour. I suppose.

Rhysand took a deep, considering breath, straightened his jacket. “We agree not to consider questions that are political in nature, or would reveal sensitive information about the workings of our courts. We’ll need an intermediary, someone to make judgements, and guide the magic.”

Lucien laughed to himself. “I know who we need. I know a Hag who could help.”

“A good friend of yours to remain impartial?” Rhys drolled.

“She travels between the court borders and doesn’t belong to Spring alone. She is wholly uninterested in the comings and goings of the High Lords, as she’ll happily tell you. And she has…methods to enhance the magic. ”

“Is this what you all did to entertain yourselves for forty-nine years?”

Lucien actually rolled his eyes. I could feel Rhysand’s muscles strain.

“Who else are you going to find on such short notice? Unless you’d like to wait for the High Lords to arrive in the morning.”

“It’s fine, the Hag will be fine.” I said. “Do we have a bargain?”

“Only if I join as well,” Lucien said.

“What?”

“There’s two of you and only Tamlin to represent Spring. That’s double the questions against him. Plus if we need a witness for the High Lords, I’ll be the observer.”

“Lucien,” I cut in, “If you’re in that room, you’re subject to the same rules we are. Agreed?”

Lucien took a deep breath, looking to Tamlin once more. “Agreed.”

“We each get questions, one hour, the truth is told without political or inner court details. Whatever the Hag decides, we abide by. Are we agreed?”

Tamlin was finally watching me.

I thought about what Rhys had said. Maybe the truth wouldn’t matter. Or maybe his concerns, his anxiety about me had driven him too far to consider anything beyond the fears in his mind.

He had loved me once. I had loved him. It had been real, and true, and so powerful it drove me Under the Mountain. Its breakdown was still a fresh wound in my heart. I knew he acted out of concern for me - however frustrating and misguided he was.

But was he ready to hear me tell him I didn’t love him? In front of everyone? Could his ego even stand to hear the words?

“And one more thing,” Lucien said.

“Yes?” I asked.

“No magic during this hour. No outbursts, no daemati powers, no threats or influences. Can you handle that?” He looked to Rhys.

“Agreed.” Rhys shrugged.

Tamlin nodded. “Agreed.”

The sear of magic was quick on my skin. Lucien winced.

I twisted to see dark ink on my ankle, a young moon as sharp as a sickle, a burst of roses cradled in its curve.

Read on AO3

#feysand #acotar #rhysand #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #feyre #acomaf #lucien vanserra #acomaf divergence #just feysand being clueless mates some more #feysand fanfic

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madame-fear · 2 years ago

Note

Hi love!!

After the watching House of the Dragon so we can talk about it,

Can I have some Aemond headcanons of him with a motherly figure wife?

❤️

I love you!!!

— ☆ amira speaks : BABY YESS DJKDKDKD Totally loved thisss 🥺💘 (am so happy of having got you to watch HOTD so we can fangirl about more fandoms together hehe 🤭). I don't usually write much for Aemond even if I'd love to, so hope you enjoy this my Queen 👑 love you too much babygirl!! ❤

: ̗̀➛ Honestly, Aemond has never been the type of person to easily open up to anyone. But with you? It's a whole different thing.

: ̗̀➛ The moment you got betrothed to Aemond, despite being a loving, sweet gentleman as always, his personality was rather quiet, and reserved. Enigmatic, to put it in a way.

: ̗̀➛ But as you got to know each other better by spending some time alone, and after your wedding ceremony, there was something about you that made him feel strangely comfortable.

: ̗̀➛ You aren't like the rest of the people he's ever met on his entire life. Perhaps, it's because you have a more warming, comforting, and sweet personality. Completely non-judgamental, and you always know exactly how to respond to whatever thing he's ranting about that he dislikes, making him feel much better.

: ̗̀➛ With the passing of time, now being Husband and Wife, you've grown to be extremely close to one another. He's learned to genuinely trust you, talk to you about whatever thing bothers him, express his thoughts outloud when being in private with you, and kind of looking after you for comfort when he truly needs it, and is too worn out by all the constant political chaos surrounding him.

: ̗̀➛ I see our One Eyed prince as a very observant person, so I know that he'd see that the warming, tender, motherly way you are is not just with him, but with everyone surrounding you.

: ̗̀➛ Also, he can't help but quietly admire the way you treat the two small children of his sister Helaena when you're with her, or you are in charge of looking after them. You truly are like a second mother to them, always joyfully playing and treating them with such a special care, that warms his heart and makes him stupidly grin.

: ̗̀➛ His mother Alicent and his sister Helaena love you fr, but he loves you even more.

: ̗̀➛ Despite being already close enough to you — more than with anyone else — and sharing literally everything with you, his darling wife, sometimes Aemond can't help but keep it to himself that he's always looking for you to comfort him somehow. Whether it's by playing with strands of his hair in a daint manner, reading outloud to him, talking together and hearing his inner conflicts, etc.

: ̗̀➛ He just feels so safe around you, especially with such motherly way of being you have that he so badly craves JSKDKDLDK

: ̗̀➛ Please don't be surprised if Aemond's too overprotective with you. Literally clinging to your side no matter where you go because you are so important to him, that he can't bear the thought of something slight happening to you.

: ̗̀➛ The slightest inconvenience happens? There he is, standing in front of you in a protective manner, ready to fight anyone who tries to lay their hands on you.

: ̗̀➛ Basically you're like the only thing that gives him stability in his messy life. And will always look up after you for that. Please just love him.

♡ taglist : ♡

@capellaadara @tchatso @kyuupidwrites @dragon430 @chompchompluke

#aemond one eye targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #prince aemond x reader #hotd x reader #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #house of the dragon x reader #hotd headcanons #house of the dragon headcanons #house of the dragon imagine

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lemon-natalia · 4 months ago

Text

Nona the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 20

Oh god day 5 already. i really hope ‘the saddest girl in the whole entire world’ isn’t Nona, Nona does not deserve to be sad. also ‘Paul gets born’ … what. what the fuck does that mean is someone going to have a baby??

hello ominous portrait of Gideon’s mum, we meet again

i mean tbf Nona hasn’t had an awful lot of chances to tell them about Gideon being the one in her dream, more important stuff has been going on

Nona loves magazines :( :( once again the mere mention of magazines is making me sad

oh Nona. something’s not just wrong with her health, she’s literally dying. that’s why she wanted a six month birthday so bad, this is going to make me cry

also, presuming this is 'The Secret’™ that Nona told Hot Sauce … i can imagine that only added to the betrayal, as Hot Sauce, after seeing Nona recover from getting shot, might have thought that Nona was lying to her about it

hmm Palamedes feels pretty certain that Nona is Gideon now, but i really don’t think its going to be that simple - maybe Nona isn’t one singular person but some kind of soul jumble of Harrow, Alecto and Gideon?

‘the one who wasn’t startlingly handsome’ excuse you Palamedes Gideon is startlingly handsome. to me.

i feel bad for Hot Sauce as well as Nona, she’s gone through some serious trauma and is only fourteen. that being said, i’m nowhere near as confident as Palamedes, who seems to have a very strong moral code, that Hot Sauce will regret shooting Nona

ohhh god i desperately hope that Nona manages to survive in some shape or form. i’m so attached to her, i don’t think i can handle her dying

We Suffer’s name is very apt given how insufferably cryptic she’s being right now

oh no Corona’s going to Ianthe, isn’t she. i’m very worried about her motives, i’m not convinced that she is as on BoE’s side as she outwardly appears

‘It was Camilla trying to be Palamedes’ this largely seems to be on purpose by Camilla to get We Suffer to do what she says, but given that Palamedes and Camilla have been body sharing for a good six months now, i wonder if some of their mannerisms and bits of personality are bleeding over unconsciously. also this bit is very reminiscent of Camilla-and-Palamedes together, which i feel like has to come back at some point given how it was set up in the beginning

ahaha Ianthe puppeting Naberius’s body is so fucked up

Ianthe’s line about hoping the expert in puppeting bodies is ‘out there somewhere admiring my handiwork’ … if she’s referring to Harrow here, then she’s somehow discovered Harrow’s parents died and were being controlled by her. i can’t recall if thats something Harrow shared with her during HtN or not, but if it’s not then i’m concerned about where she got that info

oh fuck me ngl i totally forgot about the ‘Pyrrha being missing’ part of the plot. i wonder how much Ianthe knows about Pyrrha’s real identity. she’s clearly pretending to be G1deon here (i think) but unless Pyrrha’s also wearing sunglasses rn, Ianthe’s got to know something’s up, surely. even then, she was with Gideon-in-Harrow and saw Pyrrha grabbing sunglasses to cover her eyes at the end of HtN, and i feel like its unlikely Ianthe didn’t notice that?

also i’m sorry is it John that she’s calling Poppa. nobody liked that

and i think Pyrrha’s gotta be doing some kind of act/infiltration. it doesn’t really line up with her previous actions in HtN to be siding with Ianthe & John now, even if she’s not enthused about BoE

#lemon natalia reads the locked tomb #tlt #the locked tomb #the locked tomb liveblog #nona the ninth

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hxltic · 7 months ago

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Omg omg I love your writing. May i please order a cup of Ghost, König, Roach (or really any other COD character) with an s/o who randomly decides to ask them what their bodycount is and then gets upset when it’s a lot ;( like their s/o asks them about their past hookups and they’re like 16 or something and their s/o gets all pouty and teary eyed cause they don’t like the thought of someone else touching them in an intimate manner. SORRY IF THIS IS TOO DETAILED OML

I really wanted to do one of the three you named but I’m gonna do Gaz cus he’s hot and young and the least traumatized out of all of them LMAO IM SORRY (this is so late but I have motivation again and I’m back!!)

Gaz connects the silver chain around his neck, watching his reflection copy in the mirror, then he shines a smile that hides the strawberry gum he’s chewing somewhere behind his teeth. Once he’s satisfied with a simple black tee that hugs him in all the right spots, he leaves the bathroom with a spritz of his expensive, vanilla scented cologne hanging in the air.

On his few days off duty, who better to spend it with than you?

He pours himself a single shot before you stroll out of your shared bedroom. Makeup done, heels high, and dress short— you were more than ready.

“Damn, you look good. You trying to kill me?” He rubs his jaw as he scans you.

Giggling, you twirl in your skin-tight dress, “Maybe.”

“Alright, let’s go before I do something I’ll regret.”

. .

You arrive with his arm slung around your waist as you pass the foyer and into the living room. Some of his high school friends await, new faces to you. They catch sight of you first, then him, and it instantly switches the mood when they holler out happily.

“Yo, Kyle!”

“Long time no see!”

A few hugs and handshakes later, you both take a seat and sink comfortably into the couch. His arm switches to rest over your shoulders protectively.

He inquires, ��So, this is her right?”

“In the flesh,” he responds casually.

The man leans over from his spot and reaches his hand out, hoping you’ll take it. Your lips curl upwards politely when you do.

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too. He talks about you all the time, so when I saw you, I knew who you were immediately. I’m Tyler.”

“Does he now?” Your shoot a curious glance to him who’s watching the conversation unfold. “And what would he say?”

“All good things, all good things,” Kyle jests. His thumb caresses your shoulder. Tilting your head to lean into his neck, faint cologne seems to override everyone else’s in the room when his two-toned lips kiss your forehead.

“It’s good to see him finally settle down. Out of your ways, right man?”

Tyler mindlessly giggles as what he said runs over your head. Then, it takes a U-turn and comes back, dropping your expression to a blank stare at nothing in particular as the cogs turn in your brain.

Out of his ways. You repeat. What were his ways?

Unaware that he’d single-handedly ruined your night, Tyler continues talking to his friends. One of which was Kyle, someone trained to pay attention to those around him, so he notices your switch in demeanor but truthfully has no idea why.

To be completely honest, you didn’t know why either. He was a good man, one you trust with your life (literally), so why do you care about who he was? You didn’t know if this was riding a thin line of slut-shaming, but you were so curious that being lost in your train of thought negated the feeling of his hand resting on your bouncing knee.

“What’s the matter?” He tucks a strand of your hair back gingerly. “Let me fix it.”

Even if he didn’t know what it was, he always said those four words. “Let me fix it.” If it was things he couldn’t fix, he’d sure as hell try.

Your eyes dart to his soft ones. He gazes at you like you’re the only person in the room; the only girl in world. “It’s nothing.”

“If you don’t want to talk about it now, I’m askin’ again later. Would you prefer me do that?”

You consider his negotiation, running the scenario of later through your head, then nod quietly. He nods back but it’s evident he isn’t completely enjoying himself the rest of the night. How can he when you aren’t?

Half-assed responses and deep sighs fall from his lips, the irritation growing despite the previous longing to hear from his old friends. He began to grow overstimulated from that point on, but not wanting to ruin the mood, he kept his mouth shut.

. .

The second you slipped through the door, fast food in hand (from his efforts to lighten your mood), the tension transferred from the majorly silent car ride to your home. Your breaths were shallow as if the thoughts circulating overwhelmed you.

Nothing matters beforehand. Your relationship was still fresh, there wasn’t even enough time for him to have a “military girlfriend”. But could that mean you’re next? You trust him, just not your judgement.

“What’s wrong, beautiful? Ya barely ate.”

He closes the door behind you, treading carefully around your emotions as to not hurt you more. As much as you wanted to curl up in a ball, unfortunately, there’s nothing to fault him for in this situation, so you can’t do anything but talk about it. The guilt eats away at your love for him as you gather the words you call shameful.

“If you had to guess, how many people did you date before me?”

His eyes widen in surprise, then fade away as he searches his brain for memories.

The deliberation of the question should let you know the status of what he did. They could have been one night stands— and the thought makes you cringe— but nothing would evoke the most culpability than it being various, genuine relationships.

“Three,” he states. There was no extra talk, even though you’re sure he had pieced together why you were asking.

“How many different people have you been intimate with? Including me?”

“Uhh…”

Answering wasn’t the problem. It’s just that if it made you this upset and you hadn’t even known the answer yet, hearing the actual reply would absolutely crush you.

He chose against saying it, just releasing a deep sigh, which is basically the same thing. It told you all you needed to know.

“Hey, look,” he begins walking toward you and his logic is warred with his heart when you don’t step away, but just stand there sadly. There was nothing to be afraid of, and you weren’t scared of him anyway. “I know this feels cliché, but you’re the one I want. Ty wasn’t lyin’ when he said I’ve settled down.”

Both of his hands gently find yours as if he were attempting to telepathically transport his sincerity to you. “I love you more than you’ll ever know.”

And he shows it, most certainly— the kiss he sweetly places to your temple nothing but evidence— yet all you can think about were your previous thoughts. What if you’re next?

“So what’s the answer?” Your focus remains to the hardwood floor, attempting to look for invisible specs of dust to avoid the tears threatening to swell in your eyes.

It shocks him because he didn’t think you’d speak, concluding you were too upset. One of his hands removes yours and drags it over his face. “Fuck, baby— I don’t even have count.”

He was right, it did upset you more, but there wasn’t anything you could blame him for. And living in uncertainty within a relationship that he promises he’s dedicated to sounds like hell. He hasn’t done anything to prove you shouldn’t, so your best option, quite literally, is to trust him. “Okay.”

“Look at me, love.” He slowly raises your chin by a few fingers, only to feel a painful throb behind his ribs at the sight. “I was young, and stupid, and wanted the wrong things from the people around me. I joined the military because of it, and thank God I did. I found the right values of life.”

There was a wetness to your cheek that he wiped away with his thumb, but you wouldn’t be able to tell why it was there. Overwhelming affection or sadness?

“In fact, there isn’t anything I can thank more than the world for the time we met. Now, I can cherish you in a way I wouldn’t have been able to before.”

You listen closely to the words, just thinking of how okay you’ll be. He was a good man, and if you unintentionally painted him out to be anything otherwise, it would show. But until then, you two would be fine (assuming he wasn’t still a man-whore, of course).

©️ hxltic

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umeoniii · 2 years ago

Text

aot men during sex

pt 1: eren, armin, jean,

!!: female bodied reader, nsfw, aggressive behaviors

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

eren: i lowkey feel like he would be more on the aggressive side during sex. slapping, grabbing, hair pulling, headboard grabbing, ALL OF IT. i feel like after a really bad day like he’d obviously be very angry, you guys would get into an argument, then you’d end up seducing him or trying to make him feel better. and he’d literally fuck his stress and anger onto you. if i’m being honest if it was a horrible day he probably won’t even let you cum. but it wouldn’t matter because you’re happy if he’s somewhat okay. he likes missionary and doggy style and he’s both a giver and reviver though he prefers to give most of the time.

☆〜

“eren” you call out to your lover as he takes off his shoes. when he turns his head and you two lock eyes you notice a distressed look all over his face.

“hey you okay baby, was today another bad day?” you ask him. his response to the question was turning his head from you and sitting on the couch. “are you ignoring me?” you ask him as he skips through the channels on the tv. it’s not my fault he was having a bad day, so why is he ignoring me? you thought to yourself.

you sit down on the couch next to him creating a little bit of distance, but not too much. when you sit down he glances at you with a cold look. “do me a favor, get up and get me a glass of water.” he says not even taking the time to look at you.

“please”, you say to him hoping he’d at least use his manners. “im not in the mood to play with you y/n” he growls still not looking at you. “or what, what are you gonna do to me huh?” you tease thinking nothing of it. “im not fucking playing, today i’ve have an abominable day and you’re making things worse, don’t think i won’t do anything to you.” he yells as he gets up from the couch and grabs your face.

it scared you, you knew he could be a little aggressive at times but to think he would stoop this low, especially over a bad day at work. it lowkey turned you on being as helpless as you were.

you stared him straight in the eyes and he returned the glance. after a few seconds, he picked you up and walked to your shared bedroom. he threw you onto the bed and started taking off his clothes. once he was fully unclothed he undressed you. he pulled of your shirt and started unclamping your bra letting your breasts free. you helped and pulled off your panties, freeing your wet, shimmering cunt.

he wasted absolutely no time to shove himself inside of you. “e-eren” you stutter, your mind going blank as he starts thrusting into you. “fuck, you feel so good babe” he grunts grabbing your cheeks, smushing them together. his green eyes meet yours, you can barley see him as your vision goes blank from so much pleasure and friction.

“i love you baby” he says somberly to you. no response. he notices you not saying anything back and stops thrusting. he grabs your hair and brings your head close to his, too close.

you can feel his heavy breathing and feel the humidity surrounding both of your skin. “i said i love you, what do you say back?” you whimper as his grip on your hair grows tighter,

“stop ‘ren, please it hurts.” you groan looking at him. he gives you an almost insulting, revolting look. he slaps the side of your thigh, leaving behind a red mark. you whimper loudly. “say it, i already had such a bad day, please just say it” he shouts looking at you exhaustedly.

“of course i love you too eren.” you say stil looking into the eyes of your boyfriend. he smiles and inserts himself back into you. he continues rutting inside of you, nothing but the sound your your skin slapping together echoing throughout the room.

you start to feel him twitch inside of you, “fuck im about to cum, let me cum inside of you babe.” he says still gripping onto your cheeks. you nod at him, with such a foggy brain. seconds later he starts twitching more and he grunts and whimpers softly to himself. after he finished he pulls out and lays down on the bed. he grabs you and pulls you closer to his chest. he chest heaving, “you can cum later on, can’t you baby?” he says rubbing your thigh that he slapped earlier on. you nod at him.

｡

armin: now i feel like armin is kind of like eren in the fact that sometimes he doesn’t care if his partner finishes or not. sure he loves them but he’d probably just manipulate and whine his way into being the one receiving. BUT he’s not like that all the time, more or less 1/4 of the times. i feel like armin likes cowgirl, he likes when his s/o is more in control over him. he likes receiving, he does like giving but he much more prefers getting than giving. he loves it when his s/o sucks his dick.

☆〜

you run into the living room to armin seeing his eyes glued on the tv screen. “hey! pause it! im still trying to fix the snacks and you’re trying to watch it without me!” you yell at armin snatching the remote from his hands.

he turns around and looks at you “you’re taking too long and i want to hurry up and watch the movie” he whines looking at you. “just help me with the snacks, i clearly can’t trust you around the remote anymore.” you sigh dragging him into the kitchen. he helps put everything into the bowls and cups and sets them onto the table in the living room.

you both sit down on the couch together his arm around your shoulder. as the movie begins you try to adjust yourself making yourself comfortable, as you try to sit up you place your hand on his thigh. he moves a little, and with that movement your hand slips and brushes on his pants, over his crotch. he tried not to make anything of it, even though it was clear it started a fire in him, burning until you, the extinguisher , puts it out.

you look at him noticing his face is flushed a crimson red. you ignore it and return giving your undivided attention to the movie. as time passes you notice armin moving around in his place, obviously not comfortable.

“you okay?” you shoot him a concerned look. “uh, yeah.” he says nervously looking back at the tv. obviously something wasn’t okay, maybe it had something to do with you accidentally touching his crotch area? you repeat your previous actions just to see if the theory was correct. he looked towards you “are you doing it on purpose?”. you look at him with a mischievous grin. “yeah.” he grabs the remote and pauses the tv.

“since you want it so bad, suck it.” he says in a serious tone. as if you were a dog following it’s owners commands, you unzipped his pants. after you pulled down his boxers you held his cock in your hand. as you held it you felt it get harder and elongate.

you start by kissing down his shaft and tip. he throws his head back onto the armrest of the couch. you start to suck his dick, shoving the whole of it down your throat trying your hardest not to choke. “fuck” he whines quietly to himself. you hollow out your cheeks and starts swirling your tongue around his sensitive pink tip. he slides his fingers into your hair and grips it, then he starts bobbing your head on his dick.

you use your hands to start jerking him using your own spit as lubricant. you look up at him with a grin and run your hands up his shirt feeling the hair from his happy trail all the way up to his chest. he looks down at you with a lazy smirk. “im gonna cum” he stutters.

he gets his thumb and uses it to extend the corner of your mouth as you continue to jerk him off above your mouth. and as quick as possible white strings of semen coats your face, hair, and tongue. as he whimpers and whines off his orgasm. he looks at you and pulls you in for a soft kiss. “let’s continue take the movie to our room” you say smiling at him.

　　　　　　　　　。

jean: i think that jean would definitely be a switch. totally. jean is more of the romantic type, he does it for everyone involved. he literally prepares every last detail. he’s the type to put a trail of rose petals leading up to the bed on the ground and he’s just laying on silk sheets with a silk robe on and a smirk LOL. he prefers giving, anything for his s/o. his favorite positions are cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, and doggy. cowgirl is his fav, he likes when his s/o rides him.

☆〜

tulips, my favorite you thought to yourself looking at the beautiful flowers jean bought for you. valentine’s day was today and jean spoiled you to death. he took you out to the mall, out for boba, to the movies, and he took you out to a super fancy restaurant. he bought you so much jewelry, clothes, makeup, and a lot of other things.

you looked at him while he was driving, his tattooed arm on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh. “i told you how beautiful you look in that red dress, right?” he said looking towards you, the streetlights illuminating his face. you chuckle “like only a million times”, you look out the window.

he pulls up to your shared apartment. you open the door of his car. “ah ah, close the door” he says, you shoot him a confused look. he gets out and walks towards the passenger side and opens the door for you. “such a gentleman” you joke, kissing your lover on the cheek. you guys walk into the building and get into the elevator to your floor. once you guys reach it he was in a rush to get inside.

he carried the various bags to your shared bedroom and dropped them on the floor. you sit onto the bed with your arms crossed. “it’s cold.” you shiver looking around.

“ i can help us both get warm” he smirks. “by turning off the air?” you question.

“no you just wait here.” he says running off to the living room. you heard him go into the bathroom rustling around.

“okay, get up” he beckons you to stand. you get up and he gets behind you covering your eyes.

“now walk forward” you follow his requests and walk towards what you’re sure is the bathroom.

“okay now open” when you open your eyes your delighted to see the bathroom filled with candles and rose petals and champagne in a bucket of ice. he had a speaker playing slow r&b songs. you look at him with a smile.

you both undress and sit in the tub together. he looks at you admirably as if you’re an earth bound angel. he started running the back of his palms up your arm and muttering sweet praises.

“c’mere” he beckons you to his lap he starts kissing at your back and nibling on your shoulder and neck. you let out a relived groan. you turn your head towards him and start making out with him, your tongues swirling around each others mouths. he grabs you and brings you as close as possible. you then pull away.

“what? did i do something” he asks concerned.

“no, no let’s just… take this somewhere else. the water is probably not the best place to do this” you smile sheepishly. he picks you up bridal style and takes you to the bedroom where he drops lays you on the bed. still wet, he continues kisses down you body.

passionate kisses marking down the valley between your breasts going all the way down to your pussy. he kisses and laps at your cunt for a few seconds before he moves to the top of the bed and leans his back against the headboard, motioning for you to ride him.

you oblige and insert his cock into your cunt. you start slow by grinding slowly while he holds your waist. he can see his bulge through your stomach. you continue to go faster as he looks up at you with the most loving look on his face. you wrap your arms around his neck and lay your head on top of his as you continue to ride him.

bouncing up and down you can feel your orgasm coming and you can feel jean twitching inside of you. “im about to cum jean.” you look raise your head and look at him. “im getting close to, let’s cum together baby” he grunts looking up at you. you grind into his lap more and feel it all crashing down a wave of please pulsing through both you and your lovers veins. he cums inside of you and holds you tight. embracing him in a tight hug you ask him, “what are we gonna do about the wet sheets?”

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

a/n: omg guys this the longest thing i’ve written. i like it a lot though, i did very well. requests are open! pt 2: is gonna be bertholdt, reiner, and levi. then im gonna do the ladies >:)

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