#i may seem concerning but i’m harmless | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

obsessivevoidkitten · 1 year ago

Text

Your Boyfriend Owen

Yandere Male x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Noncon/dubcon, stalking, drugging, kidnapping, chaining, general yandere behavior, social awkwardness, creepy staring, mild scent kink.) Word Count: 2.5k (This was supposed to be a small couple hundred word drabble... oopsiedoodles...)

It was the first day of your last year in college.

At the end of class there was a student lingering at his desk. He was your age and of average build, maybe a bit on the skinny side, with disheveled medium length black hair that was a bit wet with sweat and glasses that were a bit crooked.

He seemed really distraught and panicky as he typed on his laptop.

You introduced yourself and asked him if he needed help with something.

He went silent and awkwardly stared at you for a moment before speaking.

“Uh… hi, I’m Owen.”

He was obviously not used to people approaching and talking to him.

I-I don’t know how to get assignments and submit them on this updated online portal we have this year! I just cannot figure it out!”

You leaned over his desk and took a look at his laptop, you happily showed him how to navigate the new system. You didn’t blame Owen for being so high strung, the classes were tough and this new portal was pretty confusing.

What you didn’t realize was that in this simple act of helping him you had made the biggest mistake of your life.

Owen was stunned that you were helping him. You must have liked him! No one was this nice to a random stranger.

As you leaned over his desk to use his laptop he noticed you smelled so nice.

If he hadn’t already been sweating from his previous issues with the student portal you may have noticed the blush that crept across his face.

When you finished he thanked you nervously before you left for your dorm.

There was plenty of foot traffic to and from the dorms, classes, and the food places on campus. It was very easy for Owen to go unseen as he followed you to your dorm.

He… just wanted to make sure you got there safely. And also wanted to see where you lived.

Over the course of the next few weeks Owen you constantly caught Owen staring at you in class and he never failed to greet you when you sat down or try to talk to you when you left. You were always polite but… it was a little creepy to be honest, but you ignored it because it was pretty harmless. He just had a crush on you.

It was far from harmless though, during the time of day that you had classes and he didn’t he would sneak into your dorm and take little “treasures” that he was sure you wouldn’t miss.

A used pair of underwear that still had your scent from the day before. Maybe a shirt if it wasn’t one of your favorites, he knew which ones you wore most often.

As far as he was concerned he was your boyfriend, even if you didn’t know it yet, and good boyfriends noticed small details like favorite clothes.

He also took note of super important information like what food seemed to be your favorite, wherever you ate lunch he was sure to be in the crowd watching you.

Things probably would have continued on like that for a lot longer, just a creepy stalker pining for you, but then one day you helped someone else in class.

They didn’t deserve to even breathe the same air as you! He was fuming, he clenched his hands so hard that his nails bruised his palms. To grace such a nobody with your assistance drove him beyond jealousy.

But that did not even compare to when he saw you the next day eating lunch with the slime ball.

Why would you do that to him? Surely you liked him, not this piece of shit. He must have forced himself into your space and you were just too sweet to push him away.

Owen had to do something before things escalated too far. And he didn’t have to wait too much longer to have his opportunity.

There was a huge Halloween party coming up and he knew for a fact you would be going.

He went with a masquerade ball costume, complete with an intricately decorated Venetian mask.

When you were at the party he waited for the perfect moment to make his move. He stared at you the entire time, not taking his eyes off of you for a moment. Even if he hadn’t been planning something he wouldn’t have been able to take his eyes off you. You had decided to go as a pale faced vampire, it made him wonder what your teeth on his neck would feel like.

When you were all alone, and after your judgment was a bit off from a few drinks Owen came over and introduced himself and started chatting you up before offering you a drink.

He was a bit of an oddball, but he was always nice right? What was the harm?

You accepted the drink and soon everything was a blur. You weren’t rendered entirely unconscious, just helpless, compliant, and a touch clingy.

Owen escorted you out of the party with you leaning on him heavily, his face was red beneath his mask, his darling was relying on him for support! Just how it should always be~

Not many people at the party knew you, and even if they had they wouldn’t have thought much of you leaving in this manner, you just appeared to be a little drunk and leaving with someone who you trusted.

Owen stroked your cheek gently and guided you gently into the passenger seat of his car.

It was really happening, he was taking his love home.

He lived with his parents, in the large basement of their house. He was the true epitome of a basement dwelling freak.

You clung to him and nuzzled into his neck as he brought you inside. You didn’t know why, but you felt so needy.

He sat you down softly on the bed, he had changed the color of the sheets to match yours. He wanted you to feel at home and get adjusted to being here as quickly as possible and thought it may make the transition easier.

To that end he had also hung copies of the same posters you had hanging in your dorm, had the bookshelf filled with every book that he had ever seen you reading, and while everyone else was at the party he had even managed to snag a few things from your room.

Most notably your Nintendo switch and your blankets. They were drenched in your scent~

In your drugged state you couldn’t quite make sense of your surroundings… it looked kinda similar to your room… but not…

“Wh-wherrre aare w-w-weee?” You couldn’t speak without slurring your words.

“We’re home! Th-this is where you live now!

That didn’t seem right… did it? It felt a bit off… But why would this nice man lie to you? He gave you a drink and a ride… home.

“You’ll live here with me and I will take good care of you!”

“That’sss sooo n-nice of you”

Owen smiled, he knew you may feel differently once the drugs wore off, but he had taken precautions just in case. What mattered was that you were here, you weren’t leaving, and you’d eventually admit that you liked him and wanted to be here with him.

He sat down beside you on the bed and wiped the pale makeup from your face gently, you leaned into his touch with a cute sigh that made his heart swell and his cock twitch.

You were so perfect. Eventually you would be like this without the drugs, he just needed to be patient and train you until you saw that you needed him as much as he needed you. He had wanted to wait until that point to make love with you.

But… you were acting so sweet and needy. So malleable. And he could tell that you really needed it, your face was flushed and you kept grinding your crotch slowly against your arm that you had between your legs.

You stared up at him in confusion as he began to peel away his clothing, his cock bouncing free. You couldn’t take your eyes off of it. Then he carefully took off what you were wearing, slowly. He wanted to savor the moment. The person he loved more than anything else in the entire world was about to be revealed completely to him.

“So p-perfect~”

“Whaaaa are you doooinnng?” You looked up at him while not even noticing you were already grinding into your arm again.

He rubbed your thighs gently before replying.

“I’m g-going to help you with this,” he said as he caressed your crotch.

You blushed and smiled, in that moment all you could think that Owen was just so nice. He had already taken you home and now he was going to help you with your arousal too!

You spread your legs to allow for easier access as he fumbled with the lube.

He was considerably more nervous than before.

“I-it’s my first time, I hope I’m okay~ I-if I’m not we can pr-practice until I get it right!”

Owen applied the slick fluid liberally to his cock, where it mixed with the precum that his cock was practically drooling, then he scooted you to the edge of the bed and knelt between your legs, using his tongue to get you nice and stimulated.

The scent and flavor of you was almost enough to make Owen cum almost immediately, he was more drugged by your smell than you were on actual drugs. He moaned loud, taking it all in.

Before he caused either of you to orgasm before the main event he managed to pry himself away and apply lube to your entrance, sliding in a couple of fingers and twirling them around inside you.

You bucked and moaned, desperate to have more inside you as the lube mixed with all the saliva he had deposited inside you.

“Neeed morrrre,” You started crying a bit, you were just so desperate. You were like a bitch in heat and nothing would take care of it except Owen’s cock.”

“S-so needy! Don’t cry honey bun, I will take care of you!”

You tried to get your sobbing under control as he kissed you deeply.

“Gosh, y-you’re pretty even when you’re crying…

Then he stood beside the bed and propped your legs up on his shoulders. He rubbed the tip around your hole a bit, wanting to ingrain this moment into his memory for the rest of his life, before grabbing your hips and plunging his entire length inside of you in one movement.

The two of you gasped in unison, finally you felt that yearning void in you start to fill and he was inside of you.

It was much better than he had imagined in the fantasies he had so fervently jerked off to.

The heat, the tightness, your insides were enveloping his cock in pure bliss. And the smell of your sweat mingled with his and the scent of sex was just indescribable.

He slid in and out rhythmically, bending down and biting your neck as he did so. Claiming it as he sped up faster and faster.

Owen couldn’t help not lasting too long, and luckily for him you couldn’t either in your drugged state.

You cried out as you came hard, the force of your climax shaking through your body, pushing Owen over the edge. He filled you with plenty of cum before wrapping his arms around you lovingly.

“I love you so much!”

Your intoxicated mind felt the perfect response to this was, “I looo-love youuu toooo.”

When you woke up you were clothed and all cleaned up, and you could scarcely remember a single thing after the party. You had an awful headache and it took you a few moments to realize that this was certainly not your bedroom.

You felt someone spooning you from behind.

Owen. Owen was spooning you!

You must have gotten black out drunk and hooked up with him.

The thought made you feel sick to your stomach.

You immediately jumped out of bed and went to put your shoes on when you finally saw it.

A long thick chain that led to a shackle around your ankle.

You screamed.

Owen woke up instantly and tried to console you. He had been worried this may be your reaction.

“C-calm down honey b-bun. Just let me expla-”

“Don’t call me honey bun you sick freak!” You shouted the words with as much venom as you could muster, with tears threatening to roll down your face at any moment.

“HELP! HELP PLEASE!! SOMEON-”

Owen grabbed you from behind and put his hand over your mouth, using his other hand to hold you close to his shirtless form.

You still yelled, but it was pretty muffled. You could only hope someone had heard your initial outburst.

“Shh baby, calm down, it will be okay I promise~”

He kissed the top of your head and you tried to shake him off but you were still weak from last night, and he was stronger than you had anticipated. You finally went still and silently cried, your voice too strained now to say much of anything.

Then you heard footsteps coming from above you, they got louder as they approached. Did he have roommates? Had they heard your plea for help? You allowed a spark of hope to ignite inside of you.

You couldn’t see it, but Owen was blushing deeply.

“O-oh jeez, I didn’t want you to meet my parents y-yet. Not until you felt b-better.”

A man and a woman came down the steps. They both had features that reminded you of Owen.

The woman spoke while the man stood behind her, “Just what the HELL is going on at this early hour!? The sun is barely out and I have to work later tod-”

She met your eyes, only just now realizing that her son had someone in his arms. You could see her gaze follow the chain that bound your leg to the wall.

Seeing your tear streaked face, red and puffy from crying, shaking from fear, she gave a look of sympathy. Your hope grew. Would she help you escape her loony son? Your sore throat strained to form words, but they only came out muted and garbled through Owen’s hand.

“Owen! You didn’t tell us you were dating! Honestly, with how awkward you are, I was a bit afraid you’d never take a liking to someone.”

Then she looked at you again.

“You’ll be okay, I know it’s hard at first, but you’ll settle right in.”

“I-i made sure the shackle was lined with something s-soft so it doesn’t hurt them. J-just like you told me how you did when y-you started dating dad!”

You saw the man bite his lip and gaze down sheepishly.

Owen was in his mid 20s, if his age was any indication… if he was conceived when his parents first met… then you were going to be here for a very long time.

#yandere x reader #yandere boyfriend #yandere scenario #male yandere #yandere male x reader #yandere x gender neutral reader #My OCs #My OC Owen #yandere imagine

3K notes · View notes

signedeclipse · 2 years ago

Note

Hello there :) I’m so glad to see you again :) please could I request headcanons for the hashira men where their normally shy crush is affected by an aphrodisiac from a fight with a demon and suddenly becomes very touchy and flirty with them (please could it be as nsfw as possible) 😉

Giyuu

Another mission with you was another he knew would be a breeze

You didn't bother him in the slightest, minded your own business and completed your objectives without much struggle

Of course mistakes happen, but this one was just downright cruel

The demon was now dealt with, but when he found you, you seemed out of it

His first concern was poison- not that he seemed incorrect but you didn't seem hurt

Just really REALLY clingy all of a sudden

Of course you had unfortunately been affected by this demon, and Giyuu wanted to help you but all you asked for was-

Okay, he may or may have not used his haori to tie you against a tree, making sure your arms were stuck around it too

He didn't have the heart to restrain you physically or give in to something that might be against your will

But boy was he rock hard about it

Gyomei

You were never all that great at dodging projectiles, let alone something as small as a pin while already caught mid air

The stone hashira thought he had deflected them all, but when you started speaking sluggishly and he went to grab your hand, he felt something stuck in your skin

Of course, there was no doubt about it, you were poisoned and hadn't realized

First he scolded himself for not being more careful, you were the last person he would have wanted to see hurt

Then he lifted you up into your arms and made it back to Shinobu as fast as he could, hoping it was nothing too terrible, but you seemed to be thrashing quite wildly and it was fortunate he was able to hold you still

He even had to restrain you in Shinobu's office, right on his lap as she checked out your blood and made sure everything was okay

"I am happy to say she does not seem to be in any danger, and any effects it might have will wear off soon! How fortunate."

"Is that so?"

He was mumbling as Shinobu left, though he didn't move an inch

The entire time you had been squirming your ass into his crotch and unfortunately standing up now might show off a little too much to the world

At least he had an idea on what was going on with you

"Please y/n, if you can just stay still till we get home I am sure we can relieve you of your problems."

Kyojuro

He is the type to see you were poisoned and then decide to get himself hit too so he can instruct you on how to stop the poison the best

Will literally ask the demon to inject him and then cut its head off a second later

Except as he feels the effects start to draw on him too, he realizes the exact scenario you are both in

Harmless, of course, but also...

"I must confess! I really like you and would like to court you this instant!"

It was just the thing he needed to get that confession out

Once he got enthusiastic consent he was lifting you up and bringing you back to where you'd been staying for the mission and making sure you get a real good impression of how good he'll treat you from then on

Muichiro

He was far more focused on himself and the mission to notice you had changed

One thing at a time, please!

But once the demon was dead, it at least helped the aphrodisiac nullify before he even started to notice your predicament

Sure, sometimes he was clueless to things, but sometimes Muichiro would play dumb on purpose, especially with you

With anyone else he would blurt out that they seemed heated, but he knew his words might be harsher than he intends and kept it to himself

"God, it's getting really hot out here-"

"Is it?"

Oh he knows what's going on the longer you walk together, and steadily his face is getting as pink as yours from the very insinuation that maybe- just MAYBE you were thinking of him

When you mentioned going to see Shinobu, he asks why you'd ever need to do that

Okay, maybe that attempt at playing dumb was a bit too obvious

"We can just wait it out."

He would take you to his estate partially so no one else sees you like this, but also so he can savor how much you stuck near him

Muichiro both wasn't one for PDA but also not one to tell you he even enjoyed being next to you

But god, did he, you were clinging to his sleeve and following him everywhere he want, and speaking to him often

Not that he stood for you being poisoned but...part of him wished he had taken some of that venom before he killed the demon

Obanai

Would likely think that the way you are acting is a joke, to try and test him or distract him from his duties as a slayer

Until the demon is dumb enough to reveal why you were so shaky and having a hard time breathing correctly to use your techniques

If anyone has an antidote for poison, especially with Kaburamaru, it’s him

Even knowing this, Obanai decides he should keep the fact he carries it to himself

The fact is that the demon is dealt with in half the time he expected it to take

Partially because he resents it even more for touching you, partially because he wants to get to you before everything wears off

The more hot and bothered you get it's almost like he mirrors you, and he will take you then and there in the forest next to the decaying demon corpse

If you ever find out about the fact he always carried antidote and ask he will simply lie and say he forgot he carried it, though I'm sure you'd see straight through the lie

Sanemi

Honestly the first thing he does when you start acting all weak and struggle to fight the demon is yell at you to get up and stop being a crybaby

But you can visibly notice he is tensing up and fighting a lot harder to protect you and end the fight before you get involved again

He does prevail and finishes things off, but by then you are just trembling on the floor and avoiding his gaze

If you wont move after he nudges you the first few times he'll pick you up and dangle you over his shoulder

"If you keep acting like this I'll show you who runs shit around here!"

His vague threats likely only make your situation worse, but once he's got it all figured out he gets a lot more flustered

He wouldn't leave his favourite girl trembling and struggling there all by herself, though

Once you are all held down with both wrists pinned to the bed by one of his hands, he'll make sure the other one gives you all the attention you need until satisfied

Uzui

It isn't unlike you both to get a little heated after a mission together, but you seemed way more impatient than usual after this one

Way sooner too, right after the demon had scratched you you became a little dizzy so he had to finish things off first

Honestly, Uzui didn't care why, the moment he inspected you to make sure you weren't poisoned or worse, he was more than happy to respond to your touchy hands

Thank goodness this demon was far away from any towns, because it was about to get loud

Authors Note - AND HERE WE ARE! I sat on this a while because of some characters and decided to just do my best <3 Thank you for requesting, I hope its something you'll enjoy!

Disclaimer - All characters within have been aged up to at least 18 or older, and have been altered to reflect such change as needed.

2K notes · View notes

imsosleepyofyourbull · 1 month ago

Text

Trey Clover Playlist + Analysis

Okay, so first and foremost; this playlist is a WORK IN PROGRESS that I will be slowly adding to as I find more neat songs and further develop my understanding of Trey as a character. He’s a very neat little dude who has rather unexpectedly become my #1 favorite (skating right past Ruggie who had been my #1 since I first found the game) and I wish more people talked about him. This is me trying to get people to talk about him, and also me making up an excuse to yap some more.

Here’s the playlist on YouTube Music!

Here it is again on Spotify!

And if you listen to it while you read, you may notice that a lot of these songs have some vaguely conflicting themes. That’s because I’m insane and LOVE exploring the way Trey’s ingrained instinct to watch out for the people around him gets in the way of his personal desire to be perceived as an unremarkable person, and how that meshes with his unexpectedly sly nature. Many of the songs I included are clearly sung from the perspective of a caretaker trying to do their best to hold their loved one together. The Rockrose and The Thistle and Welly Boots are the most obvious examples of this, but it’s also in Achilles Come Down and Coraline (once you translate Coraline’s lyrics.)

This is a pretty obvious reference to the way that Trey plays the peace maker and reliable right hand within the structure of Heartslabyul, as well as his complex dynamic with Riddle as the result of his childhood guilt. At the same time, however, there are songs like The Harpy and the Hare and And the Hound, which create an image of a caretaker who is (unintentionally or deliberately) smothering their wards. This is in reference to the way that multiple characters call out how dangerous it can be for Trey to cover up for everyone’s mistakes and concerns, as it can lead to them being unable to take care of themselves and messing up really badly when Trey isn’t there. Further, there are songs like Over&Over or Timekeeper’s Heartbeat where I play with Trey’s exhaustion and burnout.

These pieces all contribute to the mystery of Trey’s character, and who he is as a person.

His care for the people around him is undeniably sincere, especially for Riddle, but it also seems to be a learned response from his position as both the oldest son in his family and vice housewarden of Heartslabyul. The reliable older brother to much more interesting and energetic younger siblings. The steady but unremarkable right hand to the rose red prodigy tyrant. And that’s just the image he wants to cultivate, isn’t it? That’s how he wants people to look at him, right? He’s repeatedly told everyone around him that he prefers to not draw any more attention than he has to, because he’s a perfectly normal guy who isn’t worth it.

But how much of that comes from a place of genuine wanting, and how much of it is the result of his experience as “the guardian?” When he says that his care for the people around him isn’t as kind as people believe it is, I wonder if that means he’s aware of the box he’s built around himself in an effort to keep being everyone else’s safety net. It even plays into his unique magic and how it’s revealed to us! He doesn’t go to any effort to hide what it does, and willingly uses it to change the flavor of their dessert when Cater asks him. As far as anyone else is aware, Doodle Suit is a harmless trick incapable of causing any real harm.

But then he uses it to overwrite the spells of one of the most prodigious and powerful mages that attends their school.

He clearly knew what it was capable of for quite a while before he used it like this too, given the ease with which he deploys it in action. He’s a total wolf in sheep’s clothing; but for whom he chooses to play the harmless woolen prey, the sharp-toothed predator under the moon, and the protector of the pack changes from moment to moment. It seems to depend on whether it’s his own personal desire or his built in response to put the people around him above himself that takes precedence. But the vast majority of people he interacts with don’t end up ever realizing this about him because of how his motivations manifest. He doesn’t want trouble, so he prevents trouble from being able to occur in the first place by getting in the way to solve it.

His image is his mask, and his cage.

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twst trey #trey clover #character analysis #character playlist #playlist #music

51 notes · View notes

hazbinhazmeinachokehold · 11 months ago

Note

Sorry if I’m a bother, if that’s the case feel free to skip over this one.

I freaking loved it! I’m now inspired to draw Sam with the overlords now! If it’s not too much trouble could I ask for Zestial, Charlie and the rest of the hotel’s reactions to Sam?

(Ooo!😳 what if for Angel’s it’s Valentino who tries to hurt him?! That could get messy!)

A/n: Nah dude you're fine! Though I don't write for Zestial (not that that's your fault I keep forgetting to put that in the rules.)

Warnings (?): nothing major happens but Val's here so warning for abuse. Also, Alastor is hurt in Husk's part and Val is hurt in Angel's part, it's nothing graphic but if you don't want to read about that skip those parts.

!!!not proofread!!!

Charlie: Just as cuddly as you! Gladly accepts any candy from you. She ends up getting candy from the hotel for you. Let's you tag along if it's safe (or at least what she assumes you can handle.) Despite being the princess of Hell it's a known fact that she's a pushover and usually refuses to use her powers. So it's not that much of a surprise when someone attacks her. What is a surprise is how you react. I'm going to be honest, she is at least a little scared of you now. Though she's pretty sure you'd only attack people when they hurt your friends. We’re about 80% sure they're harmless.

Vaggie: She ain't too keen on cuddles, but isn't totally against it. She's not great with kids when they're just chilling so she doesn't know what to do. Also, she isn't one for sweets but appreciates the gesture. You remind her of Charlie in a weird way (but like platonic obviously.) Vaggie got some crayons for today's bonding activity when some random sinner attacked Vaggie. Before Vaggie could defend herself the sinner was ripped off of her. She just stared dumbfounded as you took care of the sinner. Well, there goes her thinking you're like Charlie. I mean sure you seemed sweet when somebody attacked a person you liked. You became terrifying and did anything to defend them- wait never mind you're more like Charlie now.

Angel Dust: Kinda creeped out by you before you do anything tbh. You follow him around nearly everywhere and keep offering him candy, despite barely knowing each other. But he understands you're a kid and may have a hard time showing you care, but he sets a ground rule: NEVER follow him to work. It's not a place for kids to be, and you followed that! Valentino just couldn't keep his hands off Angel even out of the studio. You too were just at a park, it was night so no one was really around. Until Valentino spotted Angel, you didn't hear any of the words that were said between them. But you did see Valentino hit Angel and that was the end of that. Seeing you almost kill Valentino was horrifying but also very cathartic. After the initial shock wears off you get about 20 bags of candy and however much cuddle time you want.

Husk: He's pretty blunt about finding you off-putting. But you don't seem to care and still follow him around like a lost puppy. The fact that him insulting you didn't sour your opinion of him even a little bit concerns him. So he starts to look after you. Not because he cares about you! Just because it'd be messed up to let a kid get manipulated no matter who they are. He totally cares about you. He gives chocolate milk or any sweet drink you like at the bar. One day Husk decided to stand up to Alastor which seemed to be a huge mistake on Husk's part. It would have been if it wasn't for you walking in on the scene. The threats were made good on. Just towards Alastor instead of him doing them. Husk is a little shaken up but hey he's probably free now. Gets you any candy you want and shows you a shit ton of card tricks.

Niffty: Tbh I don't have much to say about her. She finds you interesting but doesn't give you much thought. Though eventually when you protect her she returns your affection. Because you are scary and small which are both things she is.

Sir Pentious: (this is while he's in hell btw) Not great with kids. Like I don't think the egg bois are kids but even if they are the only experience he has with kids is his minions. But he does try! He does care for kids. He'll get you candy and cuddle if you want. He used to try to take over territories a lot. He always failed but he still made a lot of enemies that way. So when one of them finds him and tries to hurt him while you're around? I mean if he still wants that territory he can definitely take it now. To be honest I think he'd find you cool, even if you're more than a little scary.

#hazbin hotel x reader #husk x reader #angel dust x husk #angel dust x reader #charlie x reader #vaggie x reader #sir pentious x reader #niffty x reader #child reader #platonic

188 notes · View notes

cosmos-hime · 5 months ago

Note

Hi! Wanted to clarify some things in regard to your post about Moo Deng always opening her mouth around her keeper, as a Thai person who lives near the zoo (and has visited the zoo many times) and has access to local information, that Moo Deng isn’t actually being abused like many posts with misinformation may have claimed.

Firstly, I’d like to start by stating that Moo Deng is not the first hippo who has been taken care of by this keeper. The keeper actually took care of Moo Deng’s older siblings for the past 8 years, and is still taking care of all of them even though they’re all adults now. And they all like playing with him.

As for how he’s handling Moo Deng, the process is simply what trained professionals here in Thailand believe is important for baby animals’ safety as well as the keepers’. It’s not just to cause her stress for cute and funny videos, it’s so that she gets used to being handled, because she’s going to be touched and handled throughout her life (by trained professionals, of course) when she gets her regular health checkups.

If he never handled her as a baby, she would only grow up to be an aggressive hippo who attacked the first time a keeper manhandled her. And an attack from an adult hippo can certainly be fatal.

He handled all of her older siblings, and they have all grown up to be friendly towards him. As for Moo Deng, her showing signs of stress is actually her being feisty, which is her unique personality (the main reason she goes viral).

Also worth mentioning that Moo Deng’s mom was with her the entire time her keeper handled her. If her mom actually thought her baby was harmed, she would have attacked the keeper long ago.

I’d also like to add that the keeper isn’t handling her all the time. He’s only with her when he feeds her mom and stays there to make sure the roaming moneys in the zoo can’t steal her food. All of the videos we see of her is from her keeper filming her during the time he feeds her mom, because that’s the only time he spends with them (Moo Deng and her mom)

There is also a live stream where you can watch Moo Deng from her enclosure 24/7, which proves Moo Deng spends most of her time relaxing with her mom.

The only issue is that some visitors have in the past thrown things at her to wake her up, but the zoo has threatened legal action against them and has since made sure no other visitors can bother her again, and so far there has been no reports of other incidents.

I’d also like to say that I understand why some people find the way her keeper plays with her and her other siblings to be “too rough”, as he sometimes (playfully) sprays water at them. Though I’d like to say that I genuinely believe that’s just how they play. It can seem rough in the videos, but as someone who’s seen them live, I can genuinely confirm it’s harmless and more like “how siblings play with each other”. And that they (Moo Deng’s siblings) all like him (the keeper) and are very clearly comfortable around him.

Lastly, please allow me to say that the misinformation about the zoo abusing animals is untrue; the zoo’s known among Thai people to have rescued injured animals, as well as taking in animals from abusive backgrounds whom they rescued. As we, Thai folks, would have been the first to know and call them out if they really were abusive towards their animals.

If you’ve read it this far, thank you. We have faced a lot of racism regarding this, but I understand that there are also good people who are genuinely concerned about Moo Deng’s wellbeing, and I thought I’d clarify this as a local. Thank you for reading. I hope you have an amazing day

I’m still surprised my dumb mistake of a post made waves in the first place.

I plan on deleting the post at this point. I’d reblogged the post with a correction when it had less than 25 notes, but only the incorrect part went semi-viral.

This ask has shown me it’s still having a bit of an impact, and disabling reblogs wasn’t enough. That aside, this was very informative and well written post-I had no idea moo Deng had her own livestream. Thank you for taking the time to write all this out!

#moo deng

50 notes · View notes

ave-cave · 4 months ago

Text

In Defense/Analysis of Mahiru and Hiyoko's Relationship

Criticisms leveled at Mahiru and Hiyoko's relationship are varied; engaging with the fanbase for this long has led me to some oddly specific ones, many I’d never even thought about (and that’s saying something because I spend way too much time analyzing them lmao.) In the interest of not making this post a novel, though, I’ll be focusing on the ones I see most often: “Mahiru never called Hiyoko out on her bullying,” “Mahiru standing up for Hiyoko in 2-2 was hypocritical” and “Mahiru and Hiyoko's relationship is wasted potential because Hiyoko dies in 2-3.”

As can probably be inferred from the title, this write-up aims to counter these criticisms, but if I’m being honest, it doubles as an attempt to explain why I like Mahiru and Hiyoko's dynamic as much as I do. They’re my favorites in the series bar none, so there’s no guarantee my points will be 100% free of bias, but I’ll do my best to consider each argument in good faith.

Cool? Cool.

Turning a Blind Eye:

First thing’s first, the aspect of Mahiru and Hiyoko's relationship that I assume most earns Mahiru the “hypocrite” title: her ignoring Hiyoko’s bullying.

At a glance, I can’t say this criticism rings false. During my first playthrough, I also found myself agitated (and frankly confused) by how Hiyoko’s ill treatment (of everyone, but of Mikan in particular) kept flying under the radar. That said, upon review, I wouldn’t consider it a glaring oversight on the part of the writers the way some fans seem to; I think her behavior is handled as such for a reason – albeit a frustrating one – and that this reason is key to understanding her relationship with Mahiru.

When it comes to the class as a whole, the most straightforward explanation for why Hiyoko's behavior is ignored is that it’s rendered trivial by the killing game. In the midst of life or death, a pipsqueak tossing around juvenile insults is lucky to register as any kind of concern, let alone an urgent one – this made all the more apparent when you comb through her insult scenes and realize that most of them follow the same formula: jab → target’s reaction → another character reroutes the conversation to focus on more pressing issues → rinse and repeat.

Something similar can be said for why Teruteru’s sexual harassment and Kazuichi’s overstepping of Sonia’s boundaries are disregarded in favor of continuing class-wide discussions (and on a more inoffensive note why comic relief moments, courtesy of Ibuki or Gundham, are so fleeting): the threat of the killing game overshadows all else. Only when a threat within the group becomes synonymous with the killing game is it addressed with nearly the same exigency (think Nagito post-chapter 1). Otherwise, it might as well be non-existent.

If Hiyoko’s insults were the long and short of it, her conduct would be essentially harmless; rude at best and borderline malicious at worst, but overall inconsequential. Except that’s not the case. Why? Because two characters in particular – Mikan and Kazuichi – lack the self-esteem to brush them off as childish drivel. Through this, they become prime targets, and general unpleasantness gives way to full-on bullying…

… whiiich brings us to pitfall #2: while the other characters aren’t oblivious to Mikan and Kazuichi’s sensitivity per se, they aren’t actively mindful of it, either. Hell, in most scenes where Mikan breaks down (pre-trial 3 anyway), Hajime’s internal dialogue is something along the lines of, “She doesn’t need to cry and apologize so much” rather than, “Oh no, is she okay?” He’s concerned, just not enough to adjust his approach. The same goes for Kazuichi, particularly when his sensitivity causes him to freak out. Ironically, by choosing those two as her main targets, Hiyoko may be the only person who “acknowledges” their low self-esteem as anything worth treating them differently over (though that’s obviously not to her credit since it’s in the most twisted way possible.)

Of course, just off the top of my head, I can recall more instances of the pervert characters’ comments being called out than I can Hiyoko's, but I wouldn’t consider that an oversight, either. I’ve seen it argued that simply being childish is what gives Hiyoko a “pass” behavior-wise, and while I don’t think that's incorrect, I think it underestimates just how aware she is of the way she’s perceived, i.e., as younger (both physically and mentally) than her classmates. She doesn’t act the way she does and then expect her childlike image to compensate for it automatically; she’s in a constant, deliberate flip-flop between unapproachable and childish, because – while she is a paranoid individual who puts forth her assholish personality to avoid forming connections and facing betrayal – she’s also someone who likes to have her cake and eat it, too.

In Hiyoko's mind, so long as she can be simultaneously unlikable and unthreatening, she needn't fear going too far and making enemies (as opposed to just, y’know, not making friends), and to that end, she turns to her immature looks as a sort of “back-up” – a way of being avoided without being antagonized. This tactic, hinted at a few times in DR2 as well as other canon material, backfires, however, highlighting its fundamental flaw: sure, no one takes her seriously enough to get mad at her insults, but by the same token, no one takes her seriously in general �� not even when she wants them to.

That’s not to say this concept is executed perfectly, mind you. As interesting as it may be on paper, even I have trouble suspending my disbelief in scenes where she’s downright cruel and yet no one bats an eye. I think there’s just enough (both in text and subtext) to justify her in-universe perception being what it is, so I can get past this, but I understand why some fans can’t – especially since Mikan and Kazuichi get the short end of the stick regardless.

Again, though, that’s the class as a whole. What about Mahiru specifically? From what I've seen, she’s frequently singled out by the fandom as the character most to blame for Hiyoko’s behavior going unchecked, and this can probably be attributed to a few things:

Her emphasis on good manners and civility

Her friendship with Hiyoko making her a more responsible party for correcting the latter’s behavior

The opening scene of 2-2 in which she defends Hiyoko (I call it “the restaurant scene” because it takes place at the restaurant and I’m uncreative)

The second and third reasons go hand-in-hand, but I have a fair amount to say about the third, so I'll save it for the next section. The first and second I'll talk about here.

Hypocrisy is defined as not practicing what one preaches. One could argue that Mahiru employs hypocrisy when she preaches good manners and civility but a) doesn’t call Hiyoko out for being a bully, and b) ultimately becomes her friend. Does this argument hold water? In my opinion, yes and no. Let me explain.

First, how does Hiyoko’s in-universe perception carry over to her relationship with Mahiru? Well, Mahiru isn’t immune to it; like everyone else, she dismisses Hiyoko as too childish to take seriously. This might seem like a non-starter for their relationship, but I actually think it’s what allows said relationship to work at all.

In terms of personality and values, Mahiru and Hiyoko are polar opposites. You don’t have to search far for evidence of this – it’s right there in their profiles, with Mahiru’s stating that she dislikes bad manners and Hiyoko’s that she dislikes being lectured. This contrast isn’t arbitrary. Far from it; it’s deliberate groundwork for a foil. Unlike most foil characters in the series, though, Mahiru and Hiyoko get along swimmingly. Why? Well, I’ll get more into the nitty-gritty of that later, but in short, it’s because – while Mahiru may not be immune to Hiyoko’s flip-flopping – her perception isn’t quite as limited by it as her peers’.

I've seen a few people claim that Hiyoko is “fawned over” by her classmates, but IMO, that's not really true. Instances of the others offering Hiyoko comfort/sympathy are pretty much exclusive to the second trial (after her name is cleared; before that they're slinging accusations left and right) and the scene where they discover her shrine (after Chiaki sheds light on its true purpose; before that they're rallying to burn it.) In both, I think it's made fairly clear that they're doing it out of a sense of, “Wow, this killing game sucks and Hiyoko is kind of bearing the brunt of its terribleness right now,” not, “Wow, Hiyoko is so cute and precious.”

That's nothing particular to her; every character who loses a loved one to the killing game is treated with some amount of tenderness afterwards, regardless of who they are or whether the loss is a consequence of their own actions. Where her Mahiru-related suffering isn't concerned, though, Hiyoko’s classmates more or less just tolerate her existence. They go, “Hey, there's the rude little girl we for some reason share a grade with” and continue about the island.

Of course, it’s no one's responsibility to parent their peer, and Hiyoko's other classmates aren't wrong for taking her at face value. But Mahiru is different; she takes responsibility for those around her whether they want her to or not. Her desire to bring out the best in others is what allows her to perceive Hiyoko as a child not just in temperament, but in impressionability, too. In other words, she’s the only one who sees potential in Hiyoko – with a nudge in the right direction – to mature and improve as a person. This is demonstrated when Hiyoko admits the reason behind her smell at the start of 2-2.

Here, Mahiru doesn't join her peers in asking why a high schooler can't do something as simple as bathe, nor does she slap a band-aid on the problem and offer to tie Hiyoko’s kimono for her; she offers to teach her how to do it herself. If Hiyoko were a plain bully with zero (for lack of a better word) embellishments – if there was nothing to bridge the gap between her and Mahiru, like, say, a need for a role model – Mahiru would be more inclined to call her out, yes, but she’d also be less inclined to help her here. And in my opinion? This would hurt both of their characters in the long run. I’ll get to why in the last section.

Granted, this then begs the question: if Mahiru is the only one generous enough to believe Hiyoko can change for the better, why does she demonstrate this generosity only once, in a situation where Hiyoko is vulnerable rather than on the offense? Well, I don't think that's an arbitrary decision, either.

See, while it might not be a stretch to call Mahiru and Hiyoko “friends” from the POV of the entire Class 77B saga, in DR2 alone, it kind of is. Hiyoko’s quick and fervent attachment to Mahiru starting with the restaurant scene can make it easy to forget that, all told, their relationship on the island spanned only three days. Moreover, the attachment was one-sided; Mahiru was surprised and somewhat exasperated by Hiyoko's clinginess, and while she didn’t outright reject her affections, reciprocating them came very much second to unraveling the secrets of the island – especially once the second motive was introduced.

Hell, eliminate the restaurant scene altogether and only two interactions between them remain: first an optional dialogue in which Mahiru lets Hiyoko drag her to the supermarket but warns that she’s busy and can’t spend too much time with her, then the off-screen meeting that we piece together in 2-2’s Closing Argument. But even following the restaurant scene – arguably the only one in which Mahiru is focused exclusively on Hiyoko – she shows reluctance to help Hiyoko shower and redress right away, considering the upcoming investigation a bigger priority. The morning after, although Hiyoko is still clinging to her, Mahiru doesn't acknowledge her at any point, focused instead on forcing Nekomaru and Kazuichi to give up Nagito’s location. Starting to notice a pattern?

None of this is to diminish the ultimate impact of their relationship (I’m working up to that slowly if you couldn’t tell lol), but it is to say that calling them “friends” within the confines of DR2 is maybe pushing it. I may refer to them as such in write-ups (half for the sake of brevity and half because Danganronpa presents friend as a generic term for harmony within the group), but in fact, the only time Mahiru or Hiyoko is called the other’s friend is in 2-3, when Chiaki prompts Hiyoko to consider what Mahiru would say about Fuyuhiko’s seppuku.

Chiaki is well-meaning, and while her observations about her classmates aren't off the mark per se, they're sometimes lacking in nuance – likely by virtue of her being an AI with a limited framework for understanding people. We as players, on the other hand, can be a bit more discerning: there was a single scene in which Mahiru was focused on Hiyoko and Hiyoko only, and by the time it was over, her attention had already shifted back to the killing game. Two days later, she died. I’d be concerned if anyone besides Chiaki called that friendship.

Consider Fuyuhiko for a moment. The fact that Mahiru has basically double the interactions with him than she does Hiyoko, even prior to the events of the second case, is an immediate tip-off that Hiyoko isn't her #1 concern. She’s on positive terms with Hiyoko, whereas she and Fuyuhiko butt heads constantly, so it should be the other way around, right? Nope. Fuyuhiko represents a threat synonymous with the killing game due to his threats of continuing it (plus his overall lack of cooperation), and so reining him in is automatically higher on her list of priorities.

And that's the thing: despite being a grade-a cunt, Hiyoko is cooperative. She doesn’t create rifts within the group the way Fuyuhiko does pre-chapter 3, let alone entertain the idea of the killing game. She doesn’t try to play the "lone wolf," and while she might not be very useful in investigations, she doesn’t outright refuse to partake in them. Working against the killing game in any way – including just by cooperating – is an immediate incentive for Mahiru to go easier on anyone (yes, even boys). This, coupled with the aforementioned flip-flopping effect, makes it so Hiyoko only shows up on her radar when she starts crying over her kimono in 2-2. Fuyuhiko, meanwhile, shows up the moment he starts threatening to kill someone.

Due to her early death and the fact that – again – she shares so few scenes with Hiyoko to begin with, the number of times Mahiru witnesses the latter bullying Mikan is a comparatively small five: three times in the first trial (one of which is during a Nonstop Debate), once the morning after the trial and once while investigating the abandoned ruins.

During the first trial, Mahiru is among the students most focused on solving the murder, and only when liabilities to the group’s cooperation (i.e., Fuyuhiko still threatening people, Kazuichi and Nekomaru embarrassing Peko and derailing the discussion about her alibi) does she feel the need to police anyone's behavior. Hiyoko is a complete and utter bitch to Mikan here, but given her remarks don't noticeably hamper the discussion, it's unfortunately not hard to see why everyone – Mahiru included – dismisses them as playground nonsense.

Likewise, during the second island investigation, Mahiru is fully immersed in the discussion about the ruins and pays no attention to anything besides it, not even Hiyoko mentioning that they bathed together (something she'd previously expressed embarrassment over). The morning after the trial is definitely the odd-one-out; Mahiru is distraught over the Imposter and Teruteru, but there’s nothing more pressing to attend to, and reprimanding Hiyoko would cost her little in the focus department. Like everyone else, she just doesn't take it seriously. Is her lack of intervention here unjustified? For sure. Is she more at fault for not stepping in than anyone else? I'd argue no.

Kazuichi is a similar case. Mahiru is there for four of the scenes in which he’s bullied: once before the Imposter’s first meeting, twice while investigating the park’s giant timer and once during the first trial. Everything I said about Mikan applies here as well, but there’s the added layer that Mahiru is harder on boys, and so when Hiyoko calls Kazuichi a coward for trying to run away or a loser for insulting others to gain Sonia’s favor, Mahiru may not agree with the form, but she might as well agree with the content. Again, does that make her silence right? No. Just explainable.

All in all, what I’m getting at is that Mahiru’s role modeling (in DR2’s main story anyway) isn’t supposed to extend beyond the restaurant scene. At no point in 2-2 is correcting Hiyoko’s behavior a consistent goal for her, and while I think it's 100% fair to argue that it should've been, I only half-agree – for reasons I'll get into soon. Since I’m not sure I can explain the purpose of Mahiru's guidance in DR2 without repeating myself in the third section, for now I’ll just highlight what it aims to achieve in other installments.

Granted, most spin-off interactions are one-on-one, meaning only the Twilight Syndrome Murder Case and DRS exist to show how Mahiru responds to Hiyoko’s bullying in a non-killing game setting. I’d argue that neither disappoints, however; she’s shown more than once to instruct Hiyoko on how to act in both. What I like about this portrayal is that Mahiru’s gentle approach stays the same; only the sense of urgency with which she addresses Hiyoko’s behavior changes. As far as she's concerned, Hiyoko is still a child in need of teaching, but now – with the stakes that much lower – she’s also evidently a bully in need of reining in.

These scenes make Mahiru one of only a few characters to try to temper Hiyoko’s cruelty at any point in the series. You know who doesn’t ever try, not even outside of the killing game? Most of the DR2 cast, who witness far more frequent and targeted bullying than Mahiru does, simply by virtue of outliving her. These characters include:

the self-appointed leader of the group who either ignores Hiyoko’s comments or finds the ones directed at him funny

the protagonist of the game whose inner monologue consistently acknowledges how terrible Hiyoko’s behavior is, but who never calls it out

the Ultimate Team Manager (who also plays along with insults directed at him) and Princess, whose talents center around order and unity

the Observer AI whose #1 objective is ensuring that everyone gets along no matter what

Of course, how much incentive and/or know-how someone has for stopping a bully is unimportant when a simple “cut it out” from anyone would suffice. At the end of the day, the fact remains that everyone – Mahiru included – turned a blind eye to bullying during the killing game, and there’s no excuse for that. My aim in pointing this out is not to absolve Mahiru altogether, rather, to put into perspective why it may be unfair to saddle her with all, let alone most of the blame.

So at last, with all of that explanation out of the way, is Mahiru a hypocrite when it comes to her handling of Hiyoko vs. others? Well, sure. She’s hypocritical in the sense that she exercises a double standard, i.e., cuts Hiyoko more slack than she does the rest of the class. But is that double standard exclusive to her? Not really. If anything, by not dismissing her as a child through and through, she holds Hiyoko to a higher standard than most of her classmates do, and this gets its chance to shine outside of the killing game. Moreover, her double standard isn’t the product of favoritism; on the contrary, if guiding Hiyoko took precedence over the killing game in her mind, their interactions wouldn’t be so few and far between. Calling Hiyoko out isn’t one of her priorities, but neither is being her friend.

In light of this, I think a better question is whether Mahiru’s hypocrisy is conscious or not. Conscious hypocrisy applies when someone regards two or more things as being on the same level but treats one differently anyway. That isn’t the case with Mahiru, who – alongside her peers – treats Hiyoko’s behavior differently (i.e., more leniently) because she regards it as nickel-and-dime. If you’d consider that unconscious hypocrisy, that’s fair. Again, I just don’t see any merit in singling her out.

Speaking of singling out…

The Restaurant Scene:

The opening scene of 2-2 wherein Mahiru and Hiyoko become “friends” is where I’ve noticed a lot of fans’ ire with their relationship comes from. It’s a fairly popular opinion (as far as I’m aware) to consider Mahiru’s defense of Hiyoko here hypocritical, and honestly? While I disagree, I don’t really blame people for seeing it that way; I had to give her actions some extra thought before they started making sense to me. Here’s my personal reading of the scene and why I’d consider it misunderstood.

Immediately upon entering the restaurant, the brooding atmosphere hits hard; everyone is in silent mourning of the Imposter and Teruteru, too overwhelmed by the events of the night prior to make conversation. Mahiru is no exception; she can barely muster a “good morning” to Hajime…

… everyone besides Hiyoko, that is. She starts badmouthing Teruteru, claiming he deserved to die for his crime and shouldn't be mourned. Cue record scratch.

How does Mahiru respond? She doesn't. But her silence isn’t for lack of caring �� quite the opposite.

See, the crucial thing to understand about Mahiru (and probably her most glaring flaw) is that, despite her headstrong attitude and emphasis on “doing the right thing,” she doesn’t always know what the right thing is. She lacks the confidence necessary to support her levelheadedness, and so she agonizes and deliberates. This hesitation is the driving force behind most of her actions, and I think the restaurant scene serves to foreshadow its role in her final confrontation with Fuyuhiko.

Consider the things Mahiru jumps down her peers’ throats about: all relatively “simple” moral dilemmas concerning impropriety, threats, reckless decision-making, etc. Then compare all of that to the dilemma Hiyoko posits here. Do the ends justify the means when it comes to reuniting with family? Is trading the lives of 15 strangers for one important person right? Mahiru doesn’t know; she’s never had to think about it before. Even if she disagrees on principle, who is she to tell this girl she barely knows that she shouldn’t feel relief over the death of someone who tried to get them all executed? Only later, after giving it ample thought, does she come to terms with this dilemma – and in the meantime, Peko steps in, possibly also foreshadowing her familiarity with topics like execution.

Soon thereafter, Hiyoko is identified as the source of a bad smell, and while most of the comments that follow are born of genuine concern for her hygiene, Gundham and Kazuichi’s are a wee bit insensitive. Mahiru says as much, and here’s where I think some interpretations of the restaurant scene miss the point. Nowhere during this exchange does Mahiru accuse anyone of bullying Hiyoko. The reason she intervenes has everything to do with her flaw regarding moral dilemmas, and – up until her offer to help Hiyoko with her kimono – almost nothing to do with Hiyoko herself. “Is it rude to harp on a sensitive hygiene issue outside of one’s control” is already a dilemma far simpler than “should a murderer be mourned," but the added layer of disregarding a lecture and doing the same thing the next morning makes it a no-brainer. Mahiru doesn’t care that Hiyoko is the target of a few obtuse comments. She cares that the guys didn’t listen to her the night before – something she makes clear by opening her sentence with, “I’ve said it before, but…”

After this is when her intervention starts being about Hiyoko. She says she’ll teach Hiyoko a simple obi knot, to which Hiyoko is elated. Why? Well, the secret lies in her backstory.

Basically, a few in-game clues – combined with her FTEs and Island Mode – reveal that Hiyoko was forced at a young age to leave her parents’ home and move in with her grandmother, who put her to work studying the traditional dance for which the Saionji Clan is famous. Hiyoko's status as the next head of the family made her subject to great cruelty at the hands of jealous rivals, and as a result, she grew to resent it. Her grandmother became aware of this resentment, and to prevent Hiyoko from shirking her responsibilities, she spoiled her into total dependence, neglecting to teach her basic life skills – including though not limited to dressing herself – and ensuring that dance was her only area of proficiency. This led to Hiyoko forming an inferiority complex around her lack of self-sustainability.

Said inferiority complex contextualizes how Mahiru’s offer registered to Hiyoko. To anyone else, it would be a nice gesture and nothing more. To Hiyoko? It was a monumental kindness. Instead of offering to take care of it for her, Mahiru offered to teach her how to take care of it herself, and this meant that Hiyoko not only automatically trusted her, but had every reason to see her as a role model; as someone whose example could be followed. This childlike admiration becomes all the more relevant later.

Honestly, as much as I understand criticisms of the restaurant scene from a “Mahiru should have also defended Mikan/Kazuichi” standpoint, I can't say I do from a “She shouldn’t have helped Hiyoko” one. I already outlined where I think her blindspots lie in terms of calling Hiyoko out (and how said blindspots aren't unique to her), but of the characters most consistently mindful of Mikan/Kazuichi otherwise, I’d argue she’s up there (although, again, no one is nearly as mindful of them as they should be.)

She’s the only one to insist on helping Mikan up after she falls for the first time; she expresses concern over the floorboards in the abandoned building being a tripping hazard for her; she refuses Ibuki’s suggestion of taking pictures after she falls for the second time; she reprimands Fuyuhiko for threatening to sell her to a whorehouse in the first trial; and when Monokuma pressures the class into playing the TSMC arcade game, she warns her against it. Granted, there aren't as many instances of her sticking up for Kazuichi, but it's worth noting that – despite her prior insistence that he needed to “man up” – she defends him when Fuyuhiko taunts him over his fear of the Monobeasts.

Don’t get me wrong, I do wish that she did the additional service of holding Hiyoko accountable for her bullying, but the fact that she didn't doesn't render her intervention in this scene hypocritical IMO. Again, her defense of Hiyoko was prompted by frustration over the guys embarrassing her after they'd already done the same to Peko. In other words, it's something she would have defended any of the girls for, and as highlighted above, she arguably did defend Mikan on the embarrassment front both times she fell.

As for offering Hiyoko help, I don't see how that's wrong, either. If the restaurant scene is indicative of anything, it's that Hiyoko – while a rotten bully – is still human at the end of the day. The fact that she's a little shit and the fact that she's so helpless she can't get dressed by herself can coexist; offering her the bare minimum compassion for the latter isn't giving her free rein to continue being the former – it's just that: the bare minimum compassion. She needed help, and if Mahiru wouldn't give it to her, who would?

More than once in her screentime is Mahiru shown to extend compassion to someone who isn’t an unambiguously good person, something else that becomes all the more relevant later. She makes a genuine effort to sympathize with Teruteru’s motive despite not agreeing with his actions; she brings food to a tied-up Nagito (twice, for that matter) despite the chaos he’d sown the previous chapter; and she laments Natsumi’s murder despite knowing how badly the latter treated others, herself included. In view of this, helping a bully dress herself is not only in-character for Mahiru, but by far the least “extreme” of her acts of compassion. I’d also argue that it pays off in more ways than one.

Why I Think it Works:

So far, I’ve offered explanations as to why nothing holds Mahiru and Hiyoko’s relationship back, but I’ve yet to explain what I think pushes it forward. Let me rectify that.

Following the second trial, Hiyoko’s hostility toward those around her is amped up to 11. The third island investigation has her willfully manipulate Akane into exploring the motel on her behalf, and when Hajime talks to her, not only does she insult him right off the bat, she's openly classist toward him, comparing the unsanitary, rundown motel to his house. This is low, even for her, and considering the events of the previous chapter, it’s not exactly a mystery why.

See, Mahiru's death sets itself apart from others in the series in that it isn't an immediate incentive for the person closest to her to change. Hiyoko doesn't get the tried and true “character loses a friend and is motivated to better themselves as a result” type arc – not toot sweet, anyway – because, unlike, say, Sakura for Aoi, Peko for Fuyuhiko or Tenko for Himiko, Mahiru had no last words, no last message of strength or wisdom for Hiyoko. Her murder was a source of conflict and animosity – nothing more, nothing less.

As is first established following Teruteru’s execution, Hiyoko has a retribution-oriented mindset – not too far off from Fuyuhiko’s “an eye for an eye.” She doesn't believe in redemption; she holds onto grudges indefinitely; and most of all, she believes all killers deserve to die themselves. This mindset is yet another manifestation of her paranoia – of being conditioned to believe that everyone is out to get her. Unlike Fuyuhiko, whose terrible attitude was a mask he wore to compensate for his insecurities about leading his clan, Hiyoko’s is an extension of her paranoid worldview; an ingrained trait.

And honestly? That's why I only half-agree with the argument that Mahiru should have reprimanded her in DR2. Would it have worked to give Mikan/Kazuichi some peace of mind? Absolutely. But to change Hiyoko’s behavior in the long run? I doubt it. It would address the bullying in the moment, but it wouldn’t get to the root of the problem, i.e. the backwards defense mechanism from which it stems. The only reason Mahiru’s guidance outside of DR2 (as underscored earlier) has any effect is that Hiyoko is already in a safe environment with friends whom she trusts, far away from her family and their perilous traditions. Though her lizard brain instinct is still to be as nasty as possible, the proper groundwork is there for her to integrate Mahiru’s guidance and improve her behavior over time… groundwork that's practically non-existent in DR2’s killing game.

But anyway, back to 2-3. Speaking of Fuyuhiko, Hiyoko applies her rigid point of view to him in this chapter. The fact that she considers him an irredeemable killer is only a sliver of the real issue; more relevant is that clear indications of his wanting to turn over a new leaf register to her as a way of dodging responsibility. No matter how sincere in his resolve he may be, she sees only the worst in him. She sees only the worst in everyone, after all.

Hiyoko’s shrine, while testament to her love for Mahiru, is a kind of… development red herring so to speak. Setting aside her insecurities to perform a task outside her (forced) field of expertise is a feat for her – don't get me wrong – but it isn't really a change; she’d never hesitated before to show vulnerability when it came to Mahiru, whether by saying to her face that she loved her or expressing how much she missed her when she was gone. It's only when she confronts Fuyuhiko about Mahiru and Peko’s deaths, and he responds by committing seppuku, that we see dynamics start to shift.

Here, Hiyoko is stunned into horrified silence, and that in and of itself speaks volumes. She believes strongly that all killers deserve to die, doesn't she? So then why does she go quiet? Why doesn't she take advantage of Fuyuhiko’s clear instability to get him to finish the job? It’s not because she doesn’t want to die herself; the last trial confirmed beyond a shadow of a doubt that only the person to deliver the killing blow is punished. It's because she realizes something: that isn't what Mahiru would want.

In contrast to both Hiyoko and Fuyuhiko, retribution was never Mahiru's MO. She wished zero harm upon anyone no matter what they'd done; she extended compassion to everyone, even killers; she disapproved of cruel and unusual punishment; and she showed particular distaste for acts of revenge. Of course, in keeping with her fatal flaw, she didn't always go about these ideals in the right way. She covered up a murder in a desperate bid to protect her friend from the yakuza’s twisted “justice,” and she scolded an enraged Fuyuhiko for enacting revenge while he was interrogating her about his sister – both shortsighted actions that she paid the ultimate price for.

But by the same token, she kept thinking about Teruteru's actions after the restaurant scene and concluded that he didn’t, in fact, deserve to die for his crime. She forced Nekomaru and Kazuichi to give up Nagito’s location, chastised them for hogtying and starving him and brought him breakfast when nobody else would. She spent days deliberating over how best to make amends with Fuyuhiko, even though his threatening letter – combined with the knowledge of the game’s true ending – would have been more than enough to convince the others to restrain him like Kazuichi wanted (not to mention the most obvious thing to do for her own protection.) If she had thought more like Hiyoko and dismissed Fuyuhiko as an irredeemable murderer from the get-go, the opportunity to lure her to the beach house would have never existed.

The ideals driving these actions, made explicit in her final words to Fuyuhiko, all contributed to a lasting legacy, and Hiyoko considering that legacy in order to forgive Fuyuhiko is what makes her arc so powerful to me.

Losing the only person on the island whom she trusted – hell, having that trust taken advantage of by the ones responsible – could have foreclosed on all progress right then and there. Mahiru's guidance was limited to a single act of compassion that had (seemingly) nothing to do with what she stood for. Being framed for her murder put Hiyoko in a vulnerable position from which she believed she could only recover by becoming meaner. And as the only one left still personally affected by Fuyuhiko’s actions, she had to watch as everyone else welcomed him back with open arms, causing her to lose her last resource: her footing within the group as the rude but cooperative one. But because Mahiru’s compassion reached her in a fundamental way – because she valued her enough to consider her unspoken ideals – she managed to defy the odds and change anyway. Not because Mahiru told her to, but because she wanted to.

And so at last, that's why I think the way their relationship was written – with a brief but meaningful role model dynamic, limited intervention on Mahiru's side and childlike admiration on Hiyoko's – ultimately worked in both of their favors. It allowed Mahiru's impact to carry on past 2-2 (more extensively anyway, as it would have played into Fuyuhiko’s arc regardless; his desire to make amends using the second chance given to him by Peko was no coincidence), and it made it so the sincerity other arcs work hard to convey is there by default with Hiyoko’s – just by virtue of it happening at all. Do I still wish Mahiru called Hiyoko out on her bullying for Mikan and Kazuich’s sakes? Yep. I just wouldn't change her lack of involvement otherwise.

As a side note, it’s also why I can’t get behind the idea that Mahiru ever “enabled” Hiyoko. An enabler is someone who, well, enables something – usually a behavior, right? Remove the enabler from the equation, and the enabled behavior should become harder to maintain. So what would become of Hiyoko if she never “befriended” Mahiru? Well… she’d smell worse. She’d like one fewer person. That’s about it. Not receiving Mahiru’s compassion wouldn’t have done much of anything, but receiving it made a world of difference.

Hell, even if we strip away Mahiru's primary impact on Hiyoko, i.e. jumpstarting her development in 2-3, I’d argue that what we’re left with in 2-2 is still unequivocally positive. Helping Hiyoko shower and tie her kimono were both good things that improved the lives of everyone on the island. Nobody had to deal with Hiyoko’s stench anymore, but on top of that, given the option, Hiyoko spent her time clinging to Mahiru instead of going around bullying others. Keep in mind, Hiyoko is someone who believes she doesn't need friends or close contacts. Before Mahiru, she reasoned that, so long as she could learn to be self-sustaining, she’d never have to rely on anyone who might betray her. She could eschew human connection and ensure her safety forevermore. But then Mahiru earned her trust in one fell swoop, and suddenly she was prioritizing the pursuit of friendship over the prevention of betrayal, if with just one person. I don't think that should be understated.

Sorry, I keep getting sidetracked. Back to 2-3.

True to the killing game, though, just because a character experiences a breakthrough doesn't mean it’s all sunshine and rainbows from that point forward. The objective of the first half of Hiyoko’s arc, i.e., forgiving Fuyuhiko, is complete. She’s already well on her way to vanquishing her paranoia – to having her worldview reformed by Mahiru’s ideals and doing away with her defense mechanism in the process. Nothing can stop her from improving further…

… is what we're led to believe. But then comes Nekomaru’s sacrifice. That’s when things take a nosedive.

Seeing the pinnacle of strength that is Nekomaru Nidai try to save his friend and get utterly demolished in the process makes up Hiyoko’s mind once and for all. It convinces her that teamwork, cooperation, friendship? At best, none of it matters. At worst, it all just leads to death. There's a certain irony to this takeaway. After all, if anyone should identify the most with Nekomaru's actions, it's her. She's a firm believer in protecting that which is near and dear. But that's exactly what makes his fate so devastating in her eyes. Mahiru was near and dear to her, but as much as she wanted to protect her, she couldn't. That's forgivable; she's weak. Nekomaru, on the other hand, is strong, and while he succeeded at protecting Akane, it was at the cost of his life. If a force of nature like Nekomaru can be brought to his knees as a direct consequence of protecting someone, then what hope does Hiyoko have of doing the same? How can she possibly protect the people she loves? She can't. Nekomaru is irrefutable proof of that now.

That’s reason number one behind her relapse. Reason number two is fear.

Hiyoko, at her core, has always been a person motivated by fear. Fear of vulnerability, fear of forming connections – fear of a sudden, violent death. That doesn’t mean fear has her completely in its grips; she came closer than ever before to vanquishing it thanks to Mahiru’s ideals. But it does mean that, when given reason to believe that something is synonymous with dying pointlessly – with being betrayed – she's going to disavow it. She started to change because Mahiru’s ideals allowed her to rethink her worldview – to explore the possibility that connections are worth forming. And yet here’s evidence of the contrary staring her right in the face.

Hiyoko’s relapse (and subsequent death) is why I assume her relationship with Mahiru is so often considered a waste. I may be something of an outlier in that I’ve never minded Hiyoko’s send-off from a writing standpoint and think only its incorporation into the case/deadly life is shoddy – but staying with the topic of this write-up, I’ll focus less on why I wouldn’t consider Hiyoko’s character as a whole wasted and more on why I wouldn’t consider her relationship with Mahiru wasted (even if the two go hand-in-hand to some degree).

The morning after Nekomaru's sacrifice, Hiyoko is seen mourning at Mahiru’s shrine. Choosing to talk to her triggers a rant about Nagito and how he pissed her off by lying about seeing Mahiru alive. She tearfully proclaims that she hates being lied to and won’t be satisfied until Nagito is brutalized as punishment, this clearly alluding to her heightened paranoia. It wouldn't even be the first time Nagito has lied to her, but comparing her reaction then vs. now, it becomes clear just how badly she's spiraling.

After this, the Despair Disease motive is officially introduced by Monokuma, and the afflicted students are brought to the hospital. Those remaining (minus Mikan, who’s tending to the patients) convene in the hospital lobby to discuss a plan of action, and that's when Hiyoko begins to insist on a quarantine.

I was honestly kind of surprised by how satisfied this scene's handling of Hiyoko left me feeling, and the more I analyze why, the more it all ties back to Mahiru. Perhaps most obvious is her behavior. While she’s still not exactly a joy to be around, she's noticeably mellowed out. Upon review, I can count on one hand the number of times she says something rude:

When Gundham and Kazuichi debate the ethics of Mikan changing Nagito’s clothes (prompting this hilarious line), Hiyoko calls their conversation stupid and tells them to focus

When Hajime questions what she means by “isolate the patients,” she condescendingly asks him why he doesn’t get it

When explaining the purpose of the quarantine, she remarks (to no one in particular) that “even a preschooler knows” the only option when a disease is incurable is to stop it from spreading

When Gundham insists that everyone else station at the motel, she acquiesces with a, “Jeez, how annoying…”

Her nastiest remark by far is “I want them [the patients] to at least have the decency to consider committing suicide before they start bothering us.” Now, don’t get me wrong, this is a hideous thing to say under any circumstances, and there's no excuse for it. It puts a bad taste in my mouth. That said, with how unusually tame the rest of her dialogue is (hell, she refers to Mikan twice without so much as an insult to boot), I don’t think such an extreme comment is included arbitrarily. I think it's part of a deliberate pattern.

The bulk of Hiyoko’s arc this chapter – both positive and negative – has operated on the principle of “show, don’t tell.” This made sense before, but it makes extra sense now: because she’s too afraid to showcase vulnerability outright, the story has to find roundabout ways to convey that she isn’t as heartless as she would prefer to be seen.

Exhibit A: she claimed to believe that all killers deserve death, but given the chance to coerce a killer into suicide, she faltered.

Exhibit B: she callously remarked that Fuyuhiko deserved his injuries, but given the chance not to attend his recovery party, she did anyway. She tried to pass it off as an interest in the party itself, but never before had she established herself as a party-lover – quite the opposite; she called the Imposter’s party in 2-1 “lame” – making this an obvious bluff. So obvious, in fact, that Hajime “I know Nagito has the Liar Disease but I’ll take his words literally” Hinata immediately sees through it.

Exhibit C: at the party, she insisted that Fuyuhiko wasn’t forgiven yet and promised that, if push came to shove, he’d bear the brunt of any dangerous situation. But given the chance to make good on this promise and force him to stay at the hospital, the idea didn’t even cross her mind. Instead, it was Fuyuhiko who rose to the occasion.

And finally, Exhibit D: she claims to wish the Despair Disease patients would kill themselves, but when given a chance to ditch – to give into her paranoia right away – she takes on a de-facto leader role in forming the plan to keep the patients safe. She doesn’t just come up with the idea – she spearheads the whole thing, from assigning her classmates different roles to prompting Kazuichi to design a communication method between hospital and motel. The player can’t progress to the next scene without speaking specifically to her.

So then… how does this all tie back to Mahiru? Well, I like to think of it in terms of before vs. after Nekomaru's sacrifice.

Before Nekomaru's sacrifice, it was Mahiru’s ideals of restoration that allowed Hiyoko to forgive Fuyuhiko, thereby doing away with some of her paranoia. After, it’s Mahiru’s ideals of teamwork that allow her to help combat the Despair Disease. Recall that, in the sacrifice's aftermath, Hiyoko claimed that there was no value in working together and that she didn’t want to be involved in any team efforts. Then why, pray tell, does she work together with her peers in this scene? Because it’s a last-ditch effort at honoring Mahiru – at doing what Mahiru would’ve done.

Of course, I say “last-ditch” because, no matter which way you slice it, the damage is already done. Hiyoko can work with her classmates to prevent another killing, but she can’t trust them – can’t get close to them. Mahiru’s ideals are strong, but in the face of overwhelming paranoia, they’re only enough for that final bow.

We're given the impression that Hiyoko's withdrawal from the group is just another act of selfishness – that she's just trying to avoid the Despair Disease – but that turns out to be only part of the reason. Flash-forward to the investigation, we learn that it was yet another last-ditch effort, this time to honor Mahiru by bathing and then tying her kimono the way she was taught. In her now empty motel room, Sonia expresses a regret: she didn’t understand what Hiyoko was going through – not really – and so she gave her some advice about a mirror then left her alone. It all comes together thematically from there.

Because of Hiyoko’s takeaway from Nekomaru’s sacrifice, she closed herself off from her peers (both literally and figuratively), and this furthered the divide between her and Fuyuhiko’s arcs. Nekomaru’s words caused Fuyuhiko to realize that this new life of his wasn’t a spare; it was precious. Nekomaru’s actions, on the other hand, caused Hiyoko to realize that her life was a fragile thing, and instead of becoming self-preserving like Fuyuhiko, she became self-isolating. She believed the only way to avoid a meaningless death was to go it alone, but going it alone – that is, isolating herself to the point where no one could understand her enough to help her – became her undoing.

But was that undoing meaningless? From an overarching narrative standpoint, maybe. Her death has no lasting impact on the rest of the story, and the way it’s incorporated into the trial is downright sloppy. But when it comes to her death by itself – to the individual story it tells – boy oh boy does it have meaning, and the character most to thank for that is undoubtedly Mahiru.

Mahiru is what allows Hiyoko’s death to feel like something built up to, like something character-driven, as opposed to a shoehorned-in, hollow chapter 3 death. She makes it so that Hiyoko’s “wrong place, wrong time” scenario – while unlucky – is anything but random. The reason Hiyoko finds herself in that wrong place at the wrong time isn't sporadic misfortune; it’s the result of her grief, paranoia, lack of self-sustainability – and even to some extent even DR2’s theme of the burden of talent.

Mikan being the one to kill Hiyoko only works as well as it does because of Mahiru, too. She didn't do it out of spite, didn't hunt Hiyoko down or kidnap her. Hiyoko just happened to walk in on her killing Ibuki. But again, while this may be unlucky, it’s not at all random. Hiyoko heads to the music venue in the first place in a bid to prove her independence, yes, but it’s only because Mahiru has become so enmeshed with her idea of independence that this is the case. If being independent were the only thing driving her, she wouldn’t have found herself struggling with her kimono to begin with. She would have weathered the storm and gone without bathing until the Despair Disease passed. She’d done it before, after all. But she was desperate to honor Mahiru, to prove that Mahiru’s death wasn’t in vain because – hey, look – she’s self-sustaining now. Honoring Mahiru became her way of regaining control over not just her hygiene, but her life as well.

Speaking of control, bullying Mikan was one of the few things – squishing ants included – that served to give Hiyoko that sense of control over her life for which she longed. Even at Fuyuhiko's recovery party, she used Mikan as an emotional scapegoat to avoid coming across as vulnerable, insulting her to distract from the fact that she’d just forgiven Mahiru’s killer. And yet, here, in her last-ditch effort to prove her independence – to prove her control – Mikan becomes that final, uncontrollable variable. She uses Hiyoko to regain control over things, and Hiyoko is helpless to stop it. This subtle role reversal is a refreshing instance of nuance in an otherwise heavy-handed case; I’d take it over a cliché revenge plotline anyday.

All in all, if a death symbolic of Hiyoko's lifelong demons is what her journey in 2-3 was building to from the start (which I firmly believe it was), then in order for Mahiru's impact to not be wasted, she just had to remain instrumental to that journey until the very end. In that sense, I'd say she succeeded.

Conclusion:

Hear that? That's the sound of my fingers dying.

Well then, it seems we’ve reached the end. Yay. :)

This took me over a month to complete, and I’m honestly happy with how it came out. I wish I’d discovered how fun it is to write argumentative pieces like this sooner – though, then again, having posted this means I won’t be beating the “obsessed with Mahiru and Hiyoko” allegations anytime soon lol. Hopefully you found some of my points compelling, regardless of what you personally think of the pair.

Thanks for reading!

#danganronpa #danganronpa 2 #danganronpa 2 goodbye despair #sdr2 #mahiru koizumi #hiyoko saionji

39 notes · View notes

bleummie · 4 months ago

Text

"At Least I Know I'm Doing It."

I'm sorry guys. I just got this scene in-game and I couldn't help it.

___________________________________________________________

Rook was no stranger to nerve-wracking situations, in fact, they seemed to draw her in, much similar to what she imagined the call of lyrium felt like to a templar, or a moth to a lit flame. But this, well, this was a different kind of adrenaline, one that exuded a heart wrenching helplessness; and it was all his fault.

As a crow, it came as no surprise to anyone that Lucanis had a way with words and a charming presence, and while it may not be on the level of his cousin, Illario, it was still an undeniable quality.

A quality that Rook, against her better judgment, found herself inexplicably drawn to.

Which leads to now, where she remains crouched with her back against the now empty pantry wall, staring dumbly at the door Lucanis abruptly left through after excusing himself. He had let her so close, and not just let her, no, he actively pulled her in closer, after months upon months of a precarious dance of poorly concealed admiration for each other. And then he’d left. Fuck.

With an exasperated breath, Rook drags her hand down her face, flushing at the memory.

“At least I know I’m doing it.”

The gall of this man.

Did she do something wrong? Was it something she said? Or was he simply afraid, and backed away when things finally got to a boil of the simmering longing harbored between the two of them that was seemingly evident to everyone at the lighthouse except for these two?

The only certainty Rook felt was embarrassment. Well, that and a flustered feeling that caused something deep in the pit of her stomach to flutter. With an annoyed groan, she stands up, trying to regain some semblance of pride lost by the feeling of having his lips so close to hers before his hasty retreat, before pushing out of the pantry Lucanis so lovingly decided would be his room in the Lighthouse, ignoring the gazes of Taash and Davrin, who happened to be in the kitchen at the moment.

Despite being in the Fade, the Lighthouse provided an unexpected aura of peace, which Rook was grateful for as she stepped out of the dining hall, fully prepared to make a beeline for her private quarters just upstairs from the library. It only took three paces out of the hall for her steps to halt, as she stands just outside Neve’s office, when the idea of what could have caused the hasty retreat of Lucanis earlier causes her stomach to twist in an uncomfortable knot.

Jealousy was not a new feeling to Rook, but a jealousy as intense as this one was definitely a first. What if his and Neve’s connection went deeper than the seemingly harmless flirtatious banter the two of them shared on occasion? Rook had always brushed it off as just the way Neve was with people, considering the two of them flirted as well; it just seemed to be a part of her natural charm.

And before Rook could consider otherwise, she pushed open the door to Neve’s office without so much as a knock.

Standing somewhat nervously in the doorway, she decides to ask her friend the question weighing on her mind.

Neve, who is currently sitting at her chair engrossed in her work, looks up at the uncharacteristically quiet and slightly pink Rook.

“You alright, Rook?” Neve inquires, both amused and concerned.

“Can I ask you something?” Rook replies as she hastily closes the door behind her. This seems to pique the detective’s interest as she gestures to the chair across her desk, which Rook happily collapses in, popping her finger joints nervously. “You and Lucanis- is there anything going on there?” she eventually asks.

With a raised eyebrow and a low chuckle, Neve studies her friend intently, before shaking her head. “No, Rook. But it is quite obvious you’re an absolute sap for the team’s resident assassin. A sentiment which he very obviously returns, by the way.” Neve stands gracefully from her chair, and rounds her desk to stand in front of Rook.

“What happened?” she asks softly. The question launches Rook into the memory of mere minutes before, Lucanis’ hand beside her head against the wall as his eyes had flicked down to her lips.

“You like to walk a little too close to the edge.”

“So do you.”

Rook shakes her head, trying pitifully to remove the memory from her mind. “It’s just-” Rook sighs frustratedly. The expression on the Tevinter mage’s face seems to understand what’s happened, as it morphs into a sympathetic smile. After a moment's silence, Neve breaks the silence.

“Go talk to him.”

Neve’s advice earns a groan from Rook, but she knows she’s right. With a curt nod, Rook stands, and quietly squeaks out a thank you, before awkwardly turning on her heel and leaving the office.

Talk to him.

Talking is something Rook can do, and quite honestly knows she excels doing under most circumstances, but something about the idea of speaking to Lucanis, being vulnerable, causes her tongue to pre-emptively swell in her mouth, garbling her words and thoughts alike.

She knows she's not just walked too close to the edge. She's fucking free-falling.

#lucanis dellamorte #da: the veilguard #da4 #da4 lucanis #rook x lucanis #lucanis x rook #lucanis romance #this fucking scene bro #mary kirby thank you #ppl can hate on this romance all they want but i love it #him and rook are idiots (in love (affectionate))

35 notes · View notes

chromatophoria · 1 month ago

Text

Pre-Wenclair in a toxic Enid AU.

Bianca: Addams, real talk—you need to stay the fuck away from Sinclair.

Wednesday: Considering that she and I are share a room, that would be an exercise in futility.

Bianca: Bitch, you know what I mean. I see how you’ve been looking at her. I’m telling you right now that it’s a bad idea.

Wednesday: What rapid-onset neurological disease are you suffering from to assume that I would ever debase myself with juvenile feelings of attraction—

Wednesday: —let alone harbor them for the technicolor train wreck that is my roommate?

Bianca: *eye roll* You keep telling yourself that. Look, Sinclair may seem all candy-coated funfetti on the outside, but on the inside?

Bianca: Inside, she is one-hundred percent industrial-grade toxic waste.

Wednesday: You can’t be serious.

Bianca: Deadly. We’re talking delusional levels of self-destructive compulsory heterosexuality—

Bianca: —along with what has got to be an Oedipus complex, which is why she gets off on your little homoerotic spats—

Bianca: —and a frankly disturbing tendency towards obsession that makes the movie Misery seem like a sterling example of a “harmless parasocial relationship”.

Bianca: That’s all on top of your standard low self-esteem and textbook abandonment issues, like crazy cherries on a psycho shit sundae.

Bianca: To put it in a way you might understand, Enid Sinclair is twenty circles of fucked up in a nine circle Hell.

Wednesday: And this concerns me how?

Bianca: Are you shitting me? That bitch is a bottomless blackhole. She will swallow any and all attention you give her and still need more.

Bianca: Sure, she’ll fuck you blind and brainless. She’ll even make you feel like the center of her goddamn universe. But then she’ll turn around and dump you for some dime-a-dozen dick, because she “can’t possibly be gay”.

Bianca: I’ve seen her do it, Addams. I don’t care how heartless you think you are, because in the end, she will find your heart and rip it right out of your goddamn chest, then eat the absolute shit out of it.

Bianca: *utterly serious* She will fucking RUIN you, Addams. Comprende?

Wednesday:

Bianca: 🤨

Wednesday: *squirms*

Bianca: 😐

Bianca: 😡

Bianca: Oh my fucking god! You’re turned on, aren’t you?

Wednesday: Preposterous. It is simply that even I am unable to fully suppress the sheer revulsion that your patently ludicrous scenario engenders.

Bianca: Bitch, you are actively touching yourself right now.

Wednesday:

Wednesday: You are mistaken. I am checking on my hidden arsenal.

Bianca: Uh huh. What hidden arsenal? Your two diamond-tipped throwing darts and a sopping wet cuntlass?

Wednesday: *glances down at her own wandering hands*

Wednesday:

Wednesday: Yes.

Bianca:

Bianca: *comes to the irrefutable conclusion that her rival is a high-functioning dumpster fire*

#toxic enid sinclair #adult wednesday addams #adult bianca barclay #adult wenclair #adult incorrect quotes

12 notes · View notes

tumbleweed-writes · 9 months ago

Text

Scorned: Chibs Telford X Reader. Chapter Four

Previous Chapter HERE

========

Chibs Telford could remember the exact moment he’d realized he was absolutely in love with Y/N Y/L/N. It had been a realization born out of a moment of panic and heartache.

As Y/N sat in his lap nestled on a sofa in the Son’s clubhouse, the noise of a Friday night party surrounding them, Chibs Telford felt his mind going down memory lane.

He could so easily recall the moment he'd realized he was in love with his ol lady.

He ran his thumb across the thin raised scar along her palm, the memories flashing through his mind.

====

He’d not exactly anticipated to walk into the antique shop owned by the woman he’d been steadily romancing only to find said woman clutching her palm a pained expression written across her features.

The confusion he’d felt had morphed quickly into concerned panic when he’d taken notice of the fact that the palm she was clutching seemed to be gushing a tremendous amount of blood.

He’d stepped through the threshold of her workplace, Y/N quickly spoke, spotting the fear etched across his face. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“It looks awful, Love.” He exclaimed, reaching into the pocket of his kutte thankful for his habit of carrying around a bandana and even more thankful that the dark blue bandana he’d been carrying was relatively clean.

He made quick work of wrapping the bandana around her bleeding palm creating a torniquet of sorts as he spoke his voice holding a demanding edge. “Keep this tight against yer palm and I’ll be back with a first aid kit.”

She parted her lips not having a chance to argue that her injury wasn’t that severe but had no chance to work the words out as he turned leaving her shop clearly intent on making his way down the street to fetch the first aid kit he’d promised.

She took a seat at an old wooden dining room table she’d staged for sale keeping a tight grip on the bandana around her palm her eyes landing on the dresser that had caused her injury. The stupid dresser was sitting looking deceptively light and harmless.

She did not have much time to focus on the object as Chibs reentered her shop the first aid kit he’d promised in hand.

He sat down beside her she reluctantly holding her hand out for him to inspect. They sat in silence as he made quick work of looking over the gash along her palm a heavy sigh leaving him. “Ye may need stitches. I can do em here or I can take ye to a hospital. Yer choice, Love?”

“I’d prefer you do them. I’m not fond of hospitals.” She admitted grimacing at the realizaton that the injury she’d endured was a little worse than she’d originally assumed.

Despite the graveness of her injury she could not bear the idea of going to a hospital for stitches. The thought made her feel sick to her stomach. She shuddered at the thought of going anywhere near a hospital.

She’d not had the best experience being hospitalized in her past and she preferred to avoid any chance of spending too much time as a patient due to this. The thought of being up in a hospital room held too many awful memories and made her feel panicked.

She would take her chances with Chibs Telford and his stitch work than risk the anxiety attack a hospital would bring her.

“What the hell even happened?” Chibs dared to ask as he worked to search for every item he’d need to tend to her in the first aid kit readying himself for the task at hand.

“I was trying to move that dresser. I found it online a few weeks ago through eBay and it was delivered today. I wanted to place it on the sales floor and see what could be done with it. It was kind of heavy, so I had to grip it from the base and try to drag it. I guess it had a screw or some metal implement sticking out and my hand caught it.” She admitted not surprised by the words that left his lips upon hearing this information.

“Ye coulda called me to move it, Lass. Shite, ye didn’t have to do it on yer own. If ye woulda called I’d have gotten some lads over here to move it fer ye. Ye know Happy or Quinn woulda been happy to help. Tig woulda come in a heartbeat to move it and even Rat woulda showed up if I told him to.”

She shook her head sighing as she watched him open an alcohol bottle placing a cotton pad against it soaking it thoroughly. “It’s not their job to move furniture for me. This is my business, Filip. I can’t turn to a man for help every time I need to place something on the sales floor. I’m perfectly capable of doing the heavylifting required of this job.”

Chibs cringed at the defensive tone behind her response. He spoke pressing a cotton pad to her hand not shocked by the hiss that left her lips. He made soothing noises as he tried to clean up the blood enough to give him the clarity to see just how many stitches she might need.

“I aint sayin yer not capable, Love. I’m jus saying ye got people to help ye with shite like this. It’s okay to ask fer help with the heavy liftin, especially when ye got lads right down the street who will do it fer ye no questions asked and nothin expected in return.”

She sighed, shaking her head her voice soft. “I am pretty sure they don’t have any desire to become my personal workforce as a fun perk of you dating me.”

Chibs furrowed his brow tempted to point that what he was offering was in fact a fun perk of dating him. She was the Prez of SAMCRO’s ol lady. She was queen of SAMCRO and it came with relationship perks. He knew his brothers would not mind any request from her simply because she was loved by him. Some ol ladies asked for a lot more than the occasional request to move some furniture around.

His bit back the comment knowing that she was still adjusting to the cold hard truth about the activities of SAMCRO and the history behind the man who she’d been on a few dates with thus far.

He was certain she might not be ready to hear that dating the King of SAMCRO had certain perks and afforded her the loyalty and services of the men he shared a patch with. He knew that lessons in club hierarchy would have to wait for another day.

He changed the subject nodding down to her hand finding a small sliver of metal embedded into the flesh. “I gotta get this out, Love. Shite is goin to hurt. Doesn’t look like it punctured anything that’ll do some damage at least.”

She took a deep breath nodding her head frantically avoiding gazing down at her palm, the sight of so much blood making her feel woozy.

He found tweezers making quick work of taking hold of the thin sliver of metal, his voice reassuring. “Don’t tense up and breathe. On the count of three.”

He made good on his promise, yanking it out right at three as she followed his orders letting out a heavy breath as the shard of metal was pulled from her palm. He gazed down at the offending scrap of metal he fast to speak. “Ye got yer tetanus shot righ?”

“Yep, no lockjaw for me at least.” She remarked cringing at the pain shooting through her palm clearly able to feel a steady stream of blood pooling from the wound where the metal had previously resided.

Chibs worked fast putting pressure against the wound clotting the blood the pair sitting in silence as he began to prep the stitches.

He spoke his voice holding an apologetic tone as he lined up his suture needle. “This is goin to sting even with the numbing spray I applied.”

“I can take it.” She remarked taking a deep breath tempted to point out that she was far less fragile than he most likely assumed.

She held in the comment though choosing to focus on her breathing as Chibs began to work doing all he could to remember everything the late Tara Knowles had taught him about giving stitches.

It was times like these that Chibs wished Tara was still around. The good doctor was always much more proficient at applying stitches much quicker than he ever could. She’d taught him a lot, but he at times felt clumsier and rougher than he knew she ever would if it had been her doing this.

He pushed back the thought memories of all those he’d lost always causing a heavy cloud of grief and despair to weigh down over him.

He was certain he’d always feel that sense of loss when he thought of those who had been taken far too soon.

Memories of those he lost and the circumstances behind their loss filled him with a sense of angst that had hung around his neck like a ball and chain that first year he’d held the President patch.

He’d felt as though he was drowning in grief those first few months. It had all felt like one big sleep deprived misery filled blur. His brothers and his dedication to SAMCRO were the only things that had kept him afloat that first year alone. He’d felt so disconnected from anything aside from the MC and the brothers who he had sworn to lead.

Then he’d met Y/N and he’d felt the smallest spark of hope blossom in his wounded heart. He’d had the sense that perhaps not all was lost; that perhaps he could have something more than his loyalties to the club and his remaining brothers to keep him from folding into despair.

He managed to speak a small frown crossing his features as he studied his stitch work. “This should heal well if ye take care of it. I think I can get ye some antibiotics. The club knows a lad who can get ye somethin strong nough to protect ye from any infection. I think as long as ye keep the stitches dry and keep the surrounding area clean ye should be fine though. I can help ye care fer it. I won’t lie though, this may leave a wee scar, Love.”

He paused clearing his throat the subject of scars a sensitive one given the marks embedded into his own skin. “If it scars ye can jus use some coca butter and massage the scar tissue, it’ll help flatten things out.”

The words left her lips before she could dare to stop them. “It won’t be my only scar and this is far from the worst injury I’ve ever endured.”

She felt his gaze upon her though she did not quite have the nerve to meet his eyes as it hit her exactly what she had just blurted out.

She took a deep breath knowing that there was little opportunity to wave off any questions about her comment. She had no choice but to explain herself. “You remember our second date…how I mentioned I’m divorced?”

Chibs furrowed his brow easily remembering the conversation. On the second date their conversations had gotten a little deeper and they’d both opened up about their previous relationships, Chibs mentioning his ex wife in Belfast, and Y/N admitting to the divorce she’d had in her early twenties.

She had kept any information about her divorce murky, only commenting on her young age when she’d married and how unhappy the marriage had been.

He felt his stomach turn another comment she’d made ringing through his head.

When it had become clear that their relationship was headed towards a sense of intimacy Y/N had seemed to freeze up just the slightest.

They’d been sharing an impassioned kiss at her closed front door and his hands had been roaming her clothed body further than he’d ever previously dared when the words had left her. “Can we take it slow?”

She’d paused her cheeks growing flushed from far more than the arousal she’d felt coursing through her veins. She’d spoken the explanation behind her request vague. “I’ve just not always had the best experience with men…so, it’d just be more comfortable for me if we took this slower. I know it’s a lot to ask, most guys have not been thrilled with the pace I prefer.”

He had shoved the alarm bells ringing off in the back of his mind questioning what she meant by not having the best experiences with men. He had told his hormones to take a back seat and had come to the quick decision to be mature about this.

It was difficult to shove back his racing hormones. His body was screaming that he wanted her more than he was sure he’d wanted any woman in so long. He wanted nothing more than to throw her over his shoulder and take her straight to the bedroom. He wanted to fuck her so hard that she could not walk the next day without remembering him between her thighs.

He’d been around long enough and had experienced more than a few things. Thanks to the croweaters who’d hung around the club he had more than a few notches under his belt and had experienced a wide variety of sexual activities. He’d had more than one woman at once. He had tried a variety of positions and could admit to having fucked in some pretty risky places. He’d tried out a selection of kinks, some he’d quite enjoyed and some he never wanted to try again.

He was far from shy about sex. He was not one to abstain from lust.

Taking it slow was an unfamiliar territory for him. He was surprised to find that the thought of taking it slow did send a surprising sense of excitement through him. It was a request he was surprised he did not mind following.

He wanted to prove that he was miles above any man who had given her grief over taking it slow. He liked her far too much to be turned off by a request to move at her pace. She seemed as though she was worth waiting all the time in the world for.

So, he’d taken it slow thus far moving at her pace even if it was incredibly slow. He’d not forgotten her comment about having bad experiences with men though.

He felt his stomach turn as he connected the dots between her previous comment about bad experiences with men and this ex husband she’d mentioned only once before.

His worst fears were met as she spoke elaborating on her comment. “My ex wasn’t the nicest guy. I was young when we got married; barely eighteen. I mostly married him to gain some independence from my grandfather which was a sign of how immature I was. Getting married to get out of your grandfather’s house and your shitty post high school job is a poor reason for marriage. Ezra was a few years older than me and he made plenty of promises of something more than what I had. Things went bad pretty quick. He was an intense guy and we fought more often than not. He had a mean temper and wasn’t above taking it out on me. He had a sadistic streak to be honest. I was victim to that streak more than once. He once put out a lit cigar on my arm and laughed when I cried...that was pretty minor to some of the other things he put me through. Scars are nothing new to me thanks to him. I worked up to courage of file for divorce a week after my twenty first birthday…he didn’t take it well. They say the most dangerous time for someone in a domestic violence situation is not during the relationship but when they're leaving the relationship...that's true. When he got the divorce papers I wound up with a blackened swollen shut eye, a few broken ribs, and a collapsed lung. I had a hospital stay to recover hence my reluctance to go near a hospital now.”

Chibs spoke, his voice tense, a chill running down his spine at what she was describing. “What happened to him, Love? He put ye in the hospital, did he at least pay fer it?”

She shrugged her shoulders, a shaky sigh leaving her as she explained. “He got a slap on the wrist. His family has a lot of money. They own one of the biggest employers in our hometown; a huge salmon cannery. My hometown is a little fishing town up in Alaska right outside of Juneau, small town, small town cops. His family has connections with the local law to keep his record squeaky clean. I don’t even think there was even an arrest, pretty sure some money was exchanged somewhere and any memory of what he did to me was erased from all public record at least as far as police records go. On the bright side I got my divorce pretty damn quick. His parents were happy to make it happen. I was not exactly the daughter in law they’d hoped for. They saw me as being trash compared to them. I got into some trouble when I was a teenager and they thought it showed a sign of a lack of class. So, they were happy to get rid of me. I'm sure they didn't want the word to get out that their precious son was a wife beater. I got out of the marriage and I got the hell out of dodge.”

She took a deep breath, Chibs feeling his gut bubble up with rage that quickly turned to a sense of fear as she spoke again. “Ezra didn’t exactly accept the divorce being finalized. He shows up from time to time. He claims he’s changed and grown and that I’m his first love. I don’t buy it. I don’t think that brutality like that just goes away with maturity.”

“Yer fraid of him?” Chibs dared to ask, already knowing the answer to his question. He could see it all over her features.

She sighed nodding her head slowly. “I am. I’ve spent the past decade trying to evade him. I can never stay in one place for too long before he figures out where I am. I don’t have social media. I change my number every single time I move. I carry a burner phone. I don’t have bank accounts, I keep to myself, but he still finds me. I’m tired of running, Filip. When my grandfather died and left me more than enough money to join the trust fund my parents set up for me, I told myself it was a sign that I had the means to stop running. I don’t want to have to run again.”

“Ye won’t, I’ll make sure of it.” Chibs blurted out so certain of the words.

He took a deep breath pulling the hand that was not injured up to his cheek breifly considering spilling his heart about the scars embedded into his cheeks and the trauma behind them. He wanted to tell her that scars were nothing new to him either.

He held back the words knowing there had been more than enough sorrow for one night. His own painful past could be shared later.

He spoke the promise leaving him with zero hesitation. “I'm not goin to let anyone force ye from Charming. If he comes near ye he's gonna have to get past me. Ye never have to run again, Love. This is yer home. I’m goin to keep yer home safe.”

He finished the statement in his head not quite having the courage to say the words out loud just yet I love you. I will protect what I love.

Chibs was yanked from the memory, her soft voice a siren’s call, her fingers running through his hair. “You look lost in your head. What’re you thinking about?”

“Jus memories, My Love.” He replied leaning his head back against her touch a low approving noise leaving his throat at the gentle sensation of her fingers massaging his scalp.

“Good memories, I hope?” She questioned, never quite sure with him.

She’d gotten to know Chibs Telford enough over the course of their relationship to realize that the Scotsman was plagued with more than a few memories he’d just as well hoped to forget.

She knew that lately with all the trouble Sheriff Jarry had been giving them that Chibs was being confronted with more than a few memories he’d prefer to forget.

He gave her a tight smile nodding his head. “Aye, most of em.”

He pressed a quick kiss to her lips not giving her a chance to question the comment.

She managed to speak against his lips as he slid them across hers. “If some of them aren’t so nice we can always make some nice memories. The nice memories can outweigh the bad ones.”

He pulled his hand from her palm running it up her thigh caressing her bare skin the short little sweet dress she’d worn tonight making his heart race and making him feel a certain sense of pride to have her on his arm and in his lap.

He pressed his lips to hers his voice low. “Aye, ye open to joinin me in my dorm and makin a few memories with me?”

She parted her lips to reply but did not have the chance as Tig’s voice rang out above the noise of the party the man clearly a few sheets to the wind. “Hey lovebirds, come have a shot with me.”

Chibs groaned, not happy to be clearly cockblocked by his vice president.

Y/N pressed a kiss to Chibs' cheek as she turned her head to reply. “Give us a moment and we’ll join you for a drink”

Rainn Quinn dared to speak up pulling from the buxom redhead who had been occupying his attention most of the night. “Give em a second Tigger. Chibby’s got to let little Chibby deflate before he can walk again.”

Chibs groaned rolling his eyes relieved that the comment at least worked a small chuckle from Y/N. “For fucks sake.”

He pressed a kiss to her cheek as she took his hand in hers pulling from his lap and pulling him up to follow her.

He let her lead him to the bar and his brothers he following her without any hesitation.

He wrapped an arm around her as shots were poured he pulling her close to him. Even if any chance to make some memories in his dorm room were being delayed he knew that there was no where he’d rather be in the moment.

He was surrounded by his brothers and a woman he loved more than he could ever fully express.

He watched her take a shot a sense of pride washing over him his love for her growing ten fold as he watched her chat with Quinn and Tig.

He remembered the night he’d realized he loved her again and the promise he’d made her. This was her home and she was his home.

—-----------------------------------------------

The desk lamp beside her and the glow of her computer monitor provided a dim light to Sheriff Jarry’s office.

She was one of the last officers remaining at the police station at this hour of the night but none of the officers who worked under her seemed to pay any mind to what was keeping their sheriff here so late into the evening.

She stared at her computer hating to admit that it had been more difficult than she’d hoped to pull any information on her ex partner’s new love.

The woman did not seem to have any social media presence so this was not as simple as simply searching for a Facebook page or any of the other sites people used to connect online.

So, Jarry had been left forced to search a little deeper pulling out the big guns.

She had known that searching for information about Y/N would be a difficult task. Y/N Y/L/N seemed as though she was all sugar and sunshine. She did not seem the type to be harboring some nasty secrets despite her ties to a man who reeked danger and a criminal element.

Jarry was a determined woman though. She’d set her mind to dig up all she could on little Miss. Y/N and she was determined to see it through.

She had felt a hint of frustration wash over her as she pulled up a juvenile record with Y/N’s name attached to it but had discovered that the record was sealed. Jarry guessed Y/N must have petitioned to have the record sealed and this most likely meant she’d stayed on the straightened arrow as an adult and the charge as a minor was most likely a misdemeanor.

She took note of the police department attached to this record looking for anything she could on this little town in Alaska.

She felt a sense of satisfaction wash over her as she pulled up a newspaper article from some small town paper in Alaska.

She stared at the article taking in the information the last name familiar.

She read the headline quickly taking in the information Missing Couple Discovered as Likely Victims of Plane Crash.

The bodies of local couple Ernest and Mariam Y/L/N were discovered near Glacier Ridge in the wreckage of a small aircraft. The couple who went missing two months prior, left their young daughter with Mrs. Y/L/N’s father in order to go take photos for a work assignment Mr. Y/L/N was involved with. Ernest Y/L/N was a renowned photographer whose works were featured in many local and national wildlife publications. The couple were reported missing by Mrs. Y/L/N’s father Micheal when the couple failed to pick up their daughter from his care. A two month search was initiated to find the couple and ended earlier this week with a tragic result. Local sheriff Matt Kingsley has made a public statement about the discovery of the couple’s remains. It is believed that the small plane piloted by Ernest Y/L/N lost control midflight due to poor flying conditions. Sheriff Kingsley was reported as stating “This is a result that none of us were hoping for. It is a tragic end to this search. The thoughts and prayers of the community are with Ernest and Mariam’s young daughter and Mariam’s father.”

Jarry pushed further into this a satisfied smile crossing her features as she pulled up another article Y/N’s name appearing.

This article was short and was featured in the social pages of the small town newspaper.

Jarry read it taking it all in:

The parents of Ezra Whitlock 23 are proud to announce his marriage to Y/N Y/L/N 18. The couple married this past Saturday at Saint Joseph’s Methodist Church and will honeymoon in Homer, Alaska. Whitlock is the only son of Richard Whitlock, owner of Whitlock Cannery. Ezra will return to work alongside his father in the family business and Y/N has hopes to attend community college this fall.

The photo connected to the article was evidence that this was the same Y/N who had begun dating the President of SAMCRO.

So, Y/N had been married before. Jarry took in the information, searching further a divorce record being pulled up through the county courts.

She read the record quickly, the information vague enough only mentioning that twenty one year old Y/N was petitioning for a divorce from twenty five year old Ezra Whitlock and that a divorce had been granted with no spousal support and no assets going to Y/N other than a trust fund left to her by her late parents.

She sighed, making note of the marriage and divorce stocking it away knowing she’d have to do her research on this ex husband of Y/N’s.

She thought back to the sealed juvenile records knowing that she could still use them to her advantage.

She glanced down at her phone knowing it was too late to make any phone calls now, but she knew she just might be able to make a few calls out to that little town in Alaska.

Surely someone might be willing to give her some information if she brought up her suspicion that one of their former residents had taken up with a known outlaw motorcycle club. Didn't the Sons have a charter all the way up in Alaska?

She stared back at her computer, her eyes landing on that photo featured in Y/N’s marriage announcement back when she’d been barely eighteen.

Jarry spoke a huff leaving her lips. “Just what secrets are you hiding Y/N? Just what can I use to break you?”

#chibs telford #chibs sons of anarchy #chibs telford fanfiction #sons of anarchy #Chibs Telford X reader #Scorned #sons of anarchy fanfic #sons of anarchy fanfiction

37 notes · View notes

bramble-mouse · 7 months ago

Text

Vore Week: Careful

A quick drabble from the prompt list I made for myself for this week.

Safe vore, soft vore, willing prey and platonic belly hugs.

MDNI.

The sheer mass of your friend never ceases to stop you in your tracks, least of all when you’re sitting gently cupped in the palm of their hands. “You’re sure you’re comfortable with trying this?” Bramble frowns nervously. You detect a hunger in their eyes, though the concern there far outweighs it.

“Yeah.” You stare down at your own hands, folded in your lap. You’re hardly an inch long in comparison and still amazed this giant would ever even bother to notice you. “I…I trust you.” Bramble’s own golden eyes can’t seem to meet yours. Their ears droop, they rub the back of their neck and before they can speak a word, their belly lets out the loudest growl you’ve ever heard. They are positively starving. The both of you lock eyes a moment before erupting into laughter. Bramble’s mirth vibrates your entire skeleton, like joyful thunderclaps. Once you both recover, the mossy haired giant smiles down at you. “I’ll be gentle with you, okay? I know you’ve been curious about this,” The point to their belly, currently obscured by a brown knit sweater “And I’m glad I’m the one you chose.” They bring you closer to their mouth and part their lips. A gust of minty breath tousles your hair, warm and welcoming. “Climb in and like…I dunno. Punch my tongue once you’re ready for me to swallow you.” Bramble smiles. You’re grateful they can be casual about all of this; it makes the experience of being eaten for the first time a lot less nerve wracking despite your life long curiosity towards it. Once they part their lips, you climb over their teeth, pointedly noting long, sharp canines that come down from their upper jaw like stalactites. The air in their mouth is humid as you investigate their back molars with curious touches, take special note of their uvula and how it hands above the glowing entrance of their throat. You lay down on Brambles tongue and as instructed, punch their tongue. Their tongue lurches you backwards towards their throat and for a moment, instinctive trepidation creeps into your chest. Yet despite that initial motion, your giant friend takes their time and is incredibly careful as you pass into their throat with a wet gulp. The ride down is confined and dimly lit by glowing green flesh. You start to panic and struggle against the tight, squeezes confines as you travel slowly down Bramble’s throat. A great voice rumbles overhead, nearly overtaken by the colossal workings of lungs and heart around you.

“It’s okay, little buddy.” Bramble’s voice soothes. “I’m right here. You’re safe.” That’s when it hits you. The passage may be claustrophobic but it is a part of your friend’s body. And when the ride down slows and you are pushed through a sphincter into a vast chamber of wrinkles, slick flesh, this is a part of Bramble too. The soft glow of the flesh allows you to watch the walls of their stomach pulse with their heartbeat and shift. A low gurgle shudders through your body, but the stomach acids you landed in are as harmless as water. “How are you doing?” Bramble speaks, but their voice is more muffled this time. You watch as something pressing into the stomach chamber from the outside- their hand. “I…I’m actually doing ok.” You shout in an attempt to be heard through layers of flesh. Bramble lets out a relieved sigh that you feel. The indent moves slowly side to side. They are rubbing their belly. “I’m glad. Let me know when you want out, alright? Doesn’t matter when.” They affirm. Another set of grumbles from their belly sound around you. They should terrify you with the implication of what this place would do to you if not for Bramble’s protective enchantments but they are soothing, coaxing tension from your body. You wobbled across the unsteady ground of the giant’s glowing stomach, wading through calf deep stomach juices so that you can lean on the wall you can see them stroking their stomach through. The motions pause on the outside and you can hear their heart rate increase.

“You…really are safe inside of me. I want you to never forget that. I’ll always take care of you.” Bramble’s voice is gentle, and though you can tell they are moving by the way their belly sways around you, they are clearly taking incredible care not to jostle you around.

“I know.” You smile and sink into the folds of soft, loamy stomach lining. It’s so warm in here, pleasant and relaxing like being wrapped up in a heavy blanket.

#bramble petrichor #g/t vore #willing vore #willing prey #gentle pred #v0re #safe v0re #cw: vore #soft vore #soft v0re

19 notes · View notes

sweetdreamcreater · 2 months ago

Text

Unspoken Desires

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Human Female (OFC)

Warning /tags: smut (18+), NSFW, unprotected sex (practice safe sex, please), creampie, Oral sex, dirty talk, p in v, fingering.

About: Dean gets jealous and confesses his feelings for Andrea (OFC)

Note: I use the name "Andrea" as it helps me imagine. You can think any name you want when you read.

Wordcount: Around 4.2k [I got a little carried away may be]

Part 1

The Impala’s engine rumbled softly as Dean parked it in the bunker’s garage. The drive back from the diner had been mostly silent, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife. Andrea, oblivious to Dean’s simmering emotions, had been humming a tune softly to herself, her eyes distant, lost in thought.

Dean slammed the car door a little harder than necessary, earning a curious glance from Andrea. “You alright?” she asked, her voice tinged with genuine concern.

“Fine,” Dean muttered, not meeting her gaze as he made his way inside.

Sam had noticed Dean’s clenched jaw and stiff shoulders from the moment they left the diner. He knew exactly what was bothering his brother, but he kept his thoughts to himself—for now.

Inside the bunker, Andrea kicked off her shoes and stretched her arms. “I’ll make some tea. You guys want any?”

“I’m good,” Sam replied, throwing Dean a meaningful glance before disappearing down the hall to his room. “Goodnight, guys.”

Dean mumbled a reply, already sitting at the table, his laptop open in front of him. He wasn’t typing, though. His green eyes followed Andrea’s movements as she bustled around the kitchen, her light laughter still echoing in his ears from earlier that evening. She had smiled at that guy, Mark. A complete stranger. Sure, she had dismissed the number he’d handed her and focused on her steak, but it didn’t matter. The fact that she’d smiled at him at all twisted something inside Dean’s chest.

Andrea returned with her tea and settled onto the couch, tucking her legs beneath her. She glanced at Dean, noticing his unusually quiet demeanour. “You sure you’re okay? You seem... off.”

Dean’s fingers hovered over the keyboard before he snapped the laptop shut and leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “Why’d you smile at that guy?”

Andrea blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“At the diner. That guy—Mark or whatever—he was hitting on you, and you smiled at him.”

Her lips parted in surprise, but then a small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Dean, he was being polite. I didn’t want to be rude.”

“Rude?” Dean scoffed, standing up and pacing the room. “The guy was practically drooling over you, and you just... let him.”

“Let him?” Andrea repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Dean, it was harmless. He doesn’t even matter.”

“Well, it matters to me!” The words burst out of Dean before he could stop them. His green eyes locked onto hers, vulnerability flashing in their depths. He sighed. “It matters, Andrea. You matter.”

Andrea stared at him, her heart skipping a beat. “Dean... what are you saying?”

Dean stopped pacing and looked at her, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. “I’m saying... I’m saying I can’t stand seeing you smile at some random guy because I want to be the one who makes you smile. I want to be the one who matters to you.”

Andrea’s tea sat forgotten on the table as she slowly stood, closing the distance between them. “You already matter to me, Dean,” she said softly. “You and Sam... you’re my family.”

Dean shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “Not like that. Not the way I want to be. Damn it, Andrea, I’m in love with you.”

Andrea froze for a moment, his words catching her completely off guard. She had always harboured feelings for Dean but had never dared to express them, convinced he didn’t feel the same. Gathering her thoughts, she spoke softly, her voice almost a whisper. “I had no idea that you...”

Dean stepped closer, his green eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that made her heart race. “Do you feel anything for me?” he asked, his voice low, almost vulnerable.

Andrea’s cheeks flushed from the sudden closeness, her breath hitching. She nodded slightly, her voice unsteady. “I do... I just wasn’t sure that you did.”

Relief flickered across Dean’s face, and without hesitation, he reached up to gently cup her face in his hands. His touch was warm, and reassuring, as he tilted his head toward her, his eyes searching hers for any sign of hesitation. When he found none, his gaze softened, and he leaned in, pressing his lips to hers in a tentative, heartfelt kiss.

Andrea melted into the kiss, her hands resting lightly on his chest as she kissed him back. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in the quiet stillness of the bunker. Dean didn’t break the kiss as he slid his arms around Andrea’s waist, lifting her effortlessly off the ground.

A surprised gasp escaped her lips before it was swallowed by the intensity of his kiss. Instinctively, her legs wrapped around his waist, her fingers tangling in his hair as he carried her down the hallway with purpose.

The cool walls of the bunker seemed to blur past them, Dean’s focus entirely on the woman in his arms. When they reached his room, he kicked the door open with his foot and stepped inside, shutting it behind them with a soft thud.

The air between them was electric, the unspoken tension that had built up over weeks, maybe even months, finally breaking free. As Dean gently set Andrea down on the bed, he paused for a moment, his green eyes scanning her face.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice tinged with both concern and desire.

Andrea’s cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly swollen from their kisses, but her eyes were filled with warmth and trust. She nodded, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach. “I’m more than okay, Dean.”

The room was dimly lit, the faint glow of the bedside lamp casting shadows across the walls. Dean stood there for a moment, his green eyes locking onto hers, and Andrea felt her breath hitch. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his gaze—something intense, yet tender.

“Dean,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

He didn’t say anything at first. Instead, he reached out, his fingers brushing against her cheek in a touch so light it sent shivers down her spine. Slowly, he cupped her face, his thumb tracing the curve of her jawline. Andrea leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed as she savoured the warmth of his hand against her skin.

When Dean finally spoke, his voice was low and rough, filled with an emotion that made her heartache. “I love you, Andrea.”

Her eyes snapped open, and she stared up at him, her lips parting in surprise. For a moment, she couldn’t find the words. Her mind raced, trying to process what he had just said, but all she could focus on was the way he was looking at her—like she was the only thing that mattered in the entire world.

“I… I love you too, Dean,” she managed to say, her voice trembling with emotion.

The corner of his mouth lifted in a small, almost shy smile, and then he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that was achingly soft. Andrea’s breath caught in her throat, and she melted into him, her hands reaching up to grasp his shoulders. The kiss deepened slowly, their lips moving together in perfect harmony, each touch sending waves of warmth through her entire body.

Part 2

Dean’s hands slid from her face to tangle in her hair, his fingers gently massaging her scalp as he kissed her with a tenderness that made her chest tighten. Andrea moaned softly, the sound muffled by his lips, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. She could feel his heartbeat against her chest, steady and strong, and it made her own pulse quicken.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing heavily. Dean rested his forehead against hers, his eyes still closed, and Andrea could see the faintest hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire.

Andrea chuckled softly, her cheeks flushing. Before she could say anything else, Dean captured her lips again, this time with more urgency. His kisses trailed down her jawline, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, and Andrea tilted her head back, granting him access to her neck. When his lips brushed against the sensitive skin below her ear, she let out a soft gasp, her fingers tightening in his shirt.

“Dean…” she breathed, her voice barely more than a whisper.

He paused, lifting his head to look at her, his green eyes dark with need but also filled with concern. “Tell me to stop if you feel otherwise,” he said, his voice serious.

Andrea shook her head, her hands sliding down to rest on his chest. “I don’t want you to stop,” she admitted, her voice shaky but sure.

Dean’s eyes softened, and he guided her backwards onto the bed, his movements careful and deliberate, never breaking contact with her. Andrea followed his lead, letting him lower her onto the mattress until they were lying side by side, their bodies pressed together.

His hand found hers, their fingers intertwining, and Andrea felt a rush of emotion so strong it nearly overwhelmed her. Dean’s lips moved to her neck once more, trailing feather-light kisses along her collarbone, and Andrea closed her eyes, losing herself in the sensations.

Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word felt like a promise—a promise of love, of safety, of something she had been searching for her entire life. And as Dean’s arms wrapped around her, holding her close, Andrea knew that she had finally found where she belonged.

Andrea’s breath hitched as Dean’s hands began to explore her body, his touch igniting a fire that burned deeper than she had ever known. His palms traced the curve of her waist, sliding upward with a gentleness that made her shiver. She could feel the heat of his skin through the fabric of her dress, and it sent a wave of longing crashing through her.

Dean’s lips left hers, trailing a path of soft, lingering kisses down her neck and across her collarbone. Each kiss was slow, deliberate, and filled with a reverence that made her heart swell. When he reached the hollow of her throat, he paused, his warm breath fanning over her skin before he continued downward, inching closer to the edge of her dress.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against her chest, his voice low and rough with desire. His fingers brushed against the hem of her dress, tugging gently as if asking for permission.

Andrea nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yes,” she breathed, her hands trembling as they found their way to his shoulders. She felt him smile against her skin before he slowly pulled the dress up and over her head, leaving her in nothing but her bra and panties.

Dean’s eyes darkened as he took her in, his gaze roaming over her exposed skin with an intensity that made her cheeks flush. He cupped her face again, his thumb brushing her bottom lip as he leaned in to kiss her once more. This time, the kiss was deeper and hungrier, but still laced with a tenderness that melted her from the inside out.

When he finally pulled back, his lips trailed lower, kissing the tops of her breasts where the lace of her bra barely covered her. Andrea arched into his touch, her fingers tangling in his hair as he moved to unhook her bra. The garment fell away, leaving her completely bare to him, and she gasped softly as the cool air met her heated skin.

Dean didn’t hesitate. His mouth found her breast almost immediately, his tongue swirling around her nipple before taking it into his mouth. Andrea’s back arched off the bed, a moan escaping her lips as he suckled gently, alternating between soft nips and soothing licks. His free hand cupped her other breast, his thumb brushing over the sensitive peak until she was squirming beneath him.

Her nails dug into his shoulders, urging him on without words. He responded by switching his attention to her other breast, lavishing it with the same care and devotion. Andrea’s head fell back against the pillow, her eyes fluttering shut as waves of pleasure crashed over her.

When he finally released her nipple with a soft pop, Dean kissed his way down her stomach, his hands following the curve of her hips. Every inch of her skin tingled under his touch, and she felt like she was floating, lost in a haze of sensation and emotion. His lips brushed against the waistband of her panties, and she tensed slightly, her breath catching in her throat.

Dean glanced up at her, his eyes searching hers for any sign of hesitation. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he said softly, his voice thick with desire but still patient, always so patient.

Andrea shook her head, her voice barely audible. “Don’t stop,” she pleaded, her fingers curling into the sheets. “Please, don’t stop.”

With a nod, Dean hooked his fingers into the sides of her panties and slid them down her legs, leaving her completely bare.

Dean’s hands returned to her thighs, smoothing over her skin as he kissed his way back up her legs. Andrea’s breathing quickened, her heart pounding in her chest as his lips neared the apex of her thighs. When he finally pressed a soft kiss to her inner thigh, she couldn’t hold back the whimper that escaped her lips.

His hands tightened on her hips, holding her steady as his mouth moved higher, kissing the sensitive skin just below her mound. And then, when she thought she might combust from anticipation, his tongue flicked out, tracing a slow, teasing line along her folds.

Andrea’s breath caught, her hips jerking involuntarily as he groaned against her. His tongue dipped lower, circling her entrance before moving back up to focus on her clit. The sensation was electric, sending jolts of pleasure shooting through her body. Dean’s movements were slow and rhythmic, each stroke of his tongue designed to draw out every ounce of pleasure.

“Oh God,” Andrea gasped, her hands flying to his hair as she tugged him closer. Her thighs trembled around his shoulders, her entire body alight with sensation. Dean hummed against her, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure coursing through her veins.

He didn’t rush, content to take his time and explore every inch of her, learning what made her gasp and what made her moan. And when she finally teetered on the edge, her body taut with tension, Dean slowed his pace, easing her back from the brink.

Andrea whimpered in protest, her fingers tightening in his hair. “Dean,” she begged, her voice cracking. “Please…”

But Dean just smirked against her skin, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze. His eyes were dark with desire, his lips glistening with her arousal. “Not yet,” he murmured, his voice rough.

He paused, looking up at her with those piercing green eyes. “Tell me what you want, Andrea,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. The sound sent shivers down her spine, pooling warmth between her thighs.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I need you close.”

Dean’s lips curled into a soft smile, and he leaned in, brushing his nose against hers. “You have me,” he promised, his breath warm against her skin. “Always.”

Her chest tightened at his words, and she pulled him closer, their lips meeting in a kiss that was both sweet and sensual. His tongue slid against hers, slow and deliberate, exploring every corner of her mouth like he wanted to memorize the taste of her. Andrea moaned softly, her hands sliding up to tangle in his hair, tugging gently.

Dean groaned in response, his body pressing harder against hers. One hand slid down to her hip, gripping her firmly as he guided her leg around his waist. The new position brought them even closer, their bodies aligning perfectly. Andrea gasped as she felt the hard length of him against her core.

“God, you feel amazing,” Dean muttered against her lips, his voice rough with desire. He rocked his hips against hers, the friction sending sparks through her already overstimulated body.

Andrea whimpered, her nails digging into his back. “Dean, please…” she begged, her hips rolling instinctively to meet his. She didn’t even know what she was asking for anymore—just more of him, more of this.

His expression softened, and he brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering against her cheek. “Then let me show you how much you mean to me.”

Before she could respond, his lips descended on hers once more, this time with a hunger that took her breath away. His hands moved with purpose, sliding down her sides.

Andrea’s hands roamed over his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath his shirt. She tugged at it impatiently, wanting to feel his skin against hers. Dean chuckled softly and obliged, pulling the fabric off and discarding it.

The moment their bare chests pressed together, Andrea let out a shuddering sigh. The heat of his skin against hers was electric, and she couldn’t help but arch into him, craving more contact. Dean’s hands skated down her back, one dipping lower to grip her ass while the other moved up to cup her breast.

His thumb brushed over her nipple, already hardened from arousal, and she gasped, her back arching off the bed. Dean took advantage of the movement, his mouth trailing down her neck to her collarbone, leaving a wet trail of kisses in his wake. When he reached her breast, he latched onto her nipple, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud.

Andrea cried out, her hands flying to his head to hold him there. “Oh God, Dean…!” she moaned, her hips bucking against him. The sensations were overwhelming, every touch sending waves of pleasure crashing through her.

His breath was hot against her skin as he moved lower. His lips brushed over her stomach, his tongue dipping into her navel before continuing downward.

He looked up at her with a wicked grin. “Last chance to stop me,” he teased, though his eyes were serious, searching hers for any hesitation.

She shook her head, her voice shaky but firm. “Don’t you dare stop.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. Dean ran his hands up her thighs, spreading her legs wider as he settled between them. His breath ghosted over her slick folds, and she shuddered, her hands fisting the sheets.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe. Then, without warning, his tongue swept through her slit, lapping up her arousal.

Andrea’s head fell back against the pillows, a loud moan escaping her lips. Her hips jerked involuntarily, but Dean held her down, his grip firm but gentle. He explored her with his tongue, teasing her entrance before focusing on her clit, circling it with relentless precision.

He slipped a finger inside her, curling it just right to hit that spot that made her see stars. Andrea’s thighs trembled, her entire body taut with need.

“Please… please, Dean… I can’t…” she babbled, her voice breaking. She was so close, teetering on the edge, but he kept her there, denying her release.

Finally, when she thought she might scream, Dean pushed her over. His tongue worked her clit in rapid circles as his finger thrust in and out of her, and with a cry, Andrea came undone. Her orgasm crashed over her in waves, each one stronger than the last, until she was left gasping and shaking in his arms.

Dean kissed his way back up her body, his lips brushing against her stomach, her ribs, and her breasts, before finally reaching her lips. He kissed her deeply, letting her taste herself on his tongue. Andrea moaned into the kiss, her hands clutching at his back.

When they broke apart, Dean gazed down at her, his expression soft but filled with desire. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle. Andrea nodded, still catching her breath.

Dean smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Good,” he said, his tone turning playful. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

Andrea’s breath hitched as Dean’s hips pressed forward, the heat of his body enveloping her in a way that made her feel both vulnerable and cherished.

His eyes locked onto hers, deep pools of emotion that seemed to pierce straight through her soul. Dean moved with deliberate slowness, each inch of him sliding into her like a promise, a vow whispered through flesh rather than words.

Her fingers curled into the sheets, the fabric bunching beneath her palms as she tried to steady herself. But there was no steadiness here, not with the way Dean filled her, stretching her just enough to make her gasp, but not so much that it became anything less than perfect. Her head fell back against the pillow, her lips parting in a soft moan that escaped before she could stop it.

“Andrea,” Dean murmured, his voice low and rough, carrying a weight that sent shivers down her spine. His hands slid up her sides, thumbs brushing against the undersides of her breasts as he leaned down, capturing one taut nipple between his lips. The sensation was electric, a sharp pull of pleasure that radiated outward, making her arch into him instinctively.

She gasped again, louder this time, her hands releasing their grip on the sheets to tangle in his hair instead. “Oh, God…”

she breathed, her voice trembling as much as her body.

His tongue flicked over her nipple, teasing and coaxing until she felt like she might come undone from that alone. But then he pulled away, his mouth leaving her breast damp and sensitive, and she couldn’t help the whimper that escaped her lips.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice firm but gentle, demanding her attention even as his hips began to move again. Slow, deliberate thrusts that dragged every nerve in her body to life.

Andrea forced her eyes open, meeting his gaze once more. The intensity in his expression stole her breath, and for a moment, all she could do was stare, lost in the depths of him. His hands came up to cradle her face, his thumbs brushing over her cheeks as if she were something precious, something irreplaceable.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, the words slipping past his lips like a secret meant only for her. “I can’t get enough of you.”

Her heart flipped at the admission, warmth flooding her chest even as her body tightened around him, pulling him deeper. “Dean…” she started, but the rest of her sentence was swallowed by a moan as he shifted slightly, angling his hips in a way that sent sparks shooting through her.

His rhythm never faltered, each thrust measured and unhurried, as though they had all the time in the world. And maybe they did. At this moment, nothing else existed—no responsibilities, no worries, just the two of them, connected in the most primal way possible.

One of his hands drifted down, his thumb finding her clit with unerring precision. Andrea cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure ripped through her, sharp and undeniable.

“That’s it,” Dean encouraged, his voice thick with desire. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

Let go. The words echoed in her mind, a permission she hadn’t realized she needed. Her body obeyed without hesitation, tightening around him as waves of pleasure crashed over her, one after another until she was drowning in it. She clung to him, her cries muffled against his shoulder as she shuddered through the intensity of her release.

Dean didn’t stop, his movements growing more urgent now, his own control fraying at the edges. “Andrea,” he groaned, his forehead resting against hers as his pace quickened, driving her higher even as he chased his own climax.

She wrapped her legs around him, urging him on, wanting to feel every second of him falling apart because of her. And when he finally did, his moan echoing in the room, she held him close, her fingers tangling in his hair as he buried himself inside her, his release spilling hot and endless.

For a long moment, neither of them moved, their breathing ragged and mingling in the space between them. “Stay with me,” she murmured, her voice soft but laced with vulnerability.

Dean’s arm tightened around her, pulling her even closer. “Always,” he whispered back, his voice steady and sure.

12 notes · View notes

willowspoems · 10 months ago

Text

prey in scarlet

an original poem by willowspoems

it feels like my insides are bleeding from your intrusions; a simple sacrifice, solely mine, to grant you that indisputable pleasure.

your simple murmurs of “sorrys…” are mere gauze for my wounds; an interim solution, but a futile fix when it comes time to box with my ailments.

they’re far too deep, far too bloody, so the mess seeps through, stains the cool-white dressings with an angry, commanding crimson. it taints my skin with some sort of unavoidable grievance, and marks me as yours… in red, not ink.

nipping baby teeth turn to dragging, tearing canines. pearly whites that were once playful and harmless become sharp and thirsty, and in no time, your touch is no longer tender. no more gentle caresses to my hips and thighs; soft fingertips turn to calloused pads of authority.

no longer am I met with those deep, concerned eyes. those irises have turned hungry, and i’m no longer your lover; suddenly i’m prey caught in a hunter’s gaze.

now i’m a raw, wounded doe; a quivering creature who bears the scars of a gunman’s bullet, a living tapestry of your control. you careless hunter, though your camouflage may fade and your weapon lie dormant, your infliction lingers, unyielding and heavy, pressing down on my bloody chest like a merciless vise.

were you even hungry, huntsman? or was my flesh simply tender enough, gullible enough, to sink your teeth into? a mess-free way to satiate that twisted aching, it seems.

and as you leave me here, with my dripping-red bandages and my welled-up eyes, do you even stop to consider… what it must feel like… to be completely devoured…

without dying?

i know, hunter.

24 notes · View notes

spnangelbang · 2 years ago

Text

“Earth Angel” - Friday, July 28

Authors: Eyes_of_a_Tragedy and tfw_cas ( @eyesofatragedy67, @punk-is-notdead ) Artist: rezal ( @rezal-art ) Rating: Teen and Up Featured characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel, Charlie Bradbury, Bobby Singer, Rufus Turner Featured relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer/Rufus Turner Length: 43,000 words Tags: Futuristic AU, Heaven is at War, But Not All the Angels Are Happy About It, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Multiple Angel Cameos

Summary: When Dean gets a request for a tattoo in what looks like a strange language, he can’t help being curious. Especially as his customer, Castiel, isn’t like anyone Dean has met before… and that includes him being devastatingly handsome. They become closer when Dean discovers Castiel’s tragic past, and some surprising information too.

Since stopping his brothers’ apocalypse, Castiel has been hiding amongst the humans on Earth who justifiably fear angel kind. But meeting Dean and those he calls family leads him to the realization that maybe they can coexist… and maybe he isn't the only angel residing on Earth.

Excerpt:

Cas peers at him in concern, obviously realizing something’s up. “Is everything okay, Dean? You look distressed.”

Dean sits across from him and contemplates the wisdom of just straight out asking Cas about Enochian. So far, the guy really had seemed harmless, but if what Charlie is implying is true…

"Cas, I'm gonna ask you something really personal, and I'm hoping you'll give me a clear answer. It doesn't change my offer to let you crash here for a bit, but-"

He takes a deep breath and just goes for it. "You're not human, are you? I sent your tattoo design to a friend…" No need to let him know that friend was Charlie. Just in case. "... and they said it's Enochian."

There’s a look of sheer panic in Cas’s eyes, and as he puts the bottle down on the counter Dean wonders if he might be thinking about making a run for it. “I’m sorry, Dean, I never intentionally deceived you. I know what angels have done to humanity, and how they are perceived, so I thought it would be best to hide my true identity. I didn’t think I would ever see you again, and… it’s a poor excuse, I know.”

He'd suspected Cas was different from pretty early, but damn. Angel? They were bad news.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Dean grabs two more beers from the fridge and gestures for Cas to follow him into the living room.

"C'mon, man. Might as well get comfortable. I promised I wasn't gonna kick you out – may need to make a few adjustments – but how about we try your story from the beginning."

Cas follows Dean into the living room and sits down next to him, fiddling with the bottle anxiously before sighing softly and beginning his story.

#spnangelbang #spnangelbang promos #artist: rezal #author: eyes_of_a_tragedy #author: tfw_cas #destiel fic #destiel art

87 notes · View notes

the-tripping-and-the-touching · 1 year ago

Text

Landslide (series)

Part Nine

Pairing: Josh x reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: You've lost something in a hiking accident... are you prepared for it to come back?

Warnings: angst.

MASTERPOST

Playlist

An unceremonious toss of a pillow onto your face was your wake-up call the next morning. Adjusting your eyes to the light-filled living room, you looked up, squinting, to find Josh standing over you with his eyebrows furrowed. For a split-second the warm, uncomplicated feeling you’d associated with Josh for so long washed over you. That is, until last night crashed into you like a wave during a hurricane.

“Why’d you let me sleep alone in your bed?” He maintained his stare, his eyes lightening to a deep amber in the golden morning sun.

Clearing your throat a little as you pulled yourself up to sit, you raced to find an excuse as to why you wouldn’t just join him after he’d fallen asleep. “I, uh… was feeling sick.” Terrible work. You studied his face as he took in your answer, the expression that laid on it unchanging.

“Why not just wake me up and kick me out then? You didn’t have to sleep on the couch.” His line of questioning continued, but it was free of any accusatory tone. If you weren’t so guarded, you may have even detected a level of concern.

“You just looked so comfortable.” That, in itself, was not a lie. He had looked very comfortable, curled up on top of your comforter as you uncovered the evidence of his nondisclosure. But you knew you couldn’t go into more detail. You couldn’t tell him how, if you had woken him up last night, you would have unleashed your very own barrage of inquiries, most likely in a tone less forgiving than the one he was adopting for this conversation.

Again, he mulled over your answer, before his expression finally shifted. “Just don’t… Just wake me up next time. I sleep perfectly fine in my own bed too.” He leaned over, feeling your forehead with the back of his hand. “And you don’t feel warm.” Shrugging, he turned to the door and grabbed his keys before catching your eyes one last time. “I’ve gotta go to work, try not to get yourself another brain injury while I’m gone.” And with a flash of perfectly white teeth, he was gone, leaving you sitting all alone on the couch.

Waiting for a few minutes after you heard his tires pull out of the driveway and carry his car down the street, you finally mustered the courage to pick yourself up off the couch and walk to the place you knew your answers would be. Going straight to the far corner of your bedroom, you reached up as high as you could and felt around the top of your hanging planter, until your fingertips found purchase on a smooth wooden surface.

Careful to not pull the whole thing down from your ceiling, you picked up a rough little box and put your feet flat on the floor again. Swallowing, you sat yourself on the hardwood, needing to be as close to the ground as possible at this moment. Taking as much time as you could bare, you held the tiny receptacle in your palms, staring at the grain pattern for more than a few seconds as you prepared yourself for what you imagined was in there.

You set the container down in front of you before slowly pulling the lid up by the sides. Piled inside were dozens of little sticky notes, all scrawled on with Josh’s quick handwriting. Taking the first one between your fingers, you brought it closer to read. “Call me!” Not bad. You shuffled through a few more harmless pieces of paper before a new one caught your eye.

“You have my heart”. Shit. There’s no way, right? Fighting the urge to just snap the lid shut before you completely left the realm of blissfully unaware, you pressed on, grabbing the next note. They only increased in flirtiness and insinuation, until you picked the last one up.

Shivers ran down your spine as you read, confusion pounding against your skull as the ink seemed to leap off the paper at you. “Already miss how you taste” was all that was written, but the implication of it was enough to make your breath catch in your throat. Letting it slip from your fingers, the little note fluttered to the floor, joining the rest of them as you tried to stop the spinning in your head.

The sight of the colorful slips of paper scattered around you was enough to make you feel like you were losing your mind. And as much as you almost wished that were true, you also knew that you had to have collected these notes for a reason. They were tucked away safe and out of sight, in a place that clearly only you knew of.

In that moment, that pressing desire you had, to recall the start of your summer, became unbearable. You tucked into yourself, the weight of the situation coming down on you as your knees came up to your chest. Frustration came to a boil inside of you, forcing tears out of your eyes as you felt your cheeks get hot. Unable to even attempt wrapping your mind around the situation you found yourself in, you let yourself cry, closing your eyes as you stayed curled up on the floor, surrounded by the proof you had walked in on Josh trying to find right after you’d gotten back from the hospital. Notes that clearly meant just as much to him as they apparently had to you.

Nothing seemed to feel real until the click of the front door closing snapped you back to reality. Shuffling the notes back into a messy stack, you shoved them back into their box before placing it back in the planter, out of sight. Cautiously, you opened your bedroom door, watching with wide eyes as a boy so similar to Josh, yet so strikingly different, made his way into your kitchen.

After a few long seconds, taken to dry your face and make a poor attempt at cooling it off, you emerged into the main space. Stepping lightly, you approached him, studying him as he pulled a glass from the cupboard and stood in front of the sink, filling it with water. Just as he was about to bring it to his lips, you spoke up.

“Jake?”

In a flash of dark brown and denim, you were wrapped in his arms. A wave of relief washed over you as he held you close, the warmth of his embrace radiating all around as you relaxed for the first time since you’d woken up. You sniffled a little, a byproduct of the tearful event that had just occurred, and he pulled away, looking at your face for the first time in months. Remembering the same excuse you had given Josh, you offered him an explanation for the stuffy nose, “I think I’m coming down with something.”

He scanned over your features before the edges of his lips curled up, giving you one of those soft smiles that you had always associated with him. “And here I was thinking you were getting emotional over me coming to visit.” You were happy to see Jake. Happy enough to get teary-eyed, truly, if your discoveries hadn’t just about tapped you out.

“If I cried every time you came to visit your brother, it wouldn’t be as special, would it?” In all honesty, you probably would have let a tear or two slip past if this were any other day. Jake had always been special to you, in a way that really only the two of you could understand.

Given the position of you two being Josh’s best friend and twin brother, respectively, there was plenty of venting to be done through the years. And while you were typically at the Kiszka household to visit Josh, you would never be disappointed if his twin met you at the door instead. If you ever needed some time to just relax, you could always visit Jake in the garage and listen to him pluck at his acoustic until he formed a new riff. Although there was never really any pressure from Josh to be anything more than yourself, the feelings you had for him always kept you on the tiniest edge. But there was never a stress like that when it came to Jake. Over the years, he had become a friend that you had grown to always need.

“You know I’m never here to visit only my brother, sunshine.” The feeling of his hands on your shoulders was a comfort too rare nowadays, the nickname washing over you like a warm wind. His eyes flicked across you, not catching on any of your bruises, like you’d almost expected. “Looking good for someone that almost let a couple rocks kill ‘em.” Of course. Unlike Josh, a moment between you and Jake could never be too sweet for too long.

You laughed, pushing away from him and pulling a glass from the cupboard for yourself. “It was a landslide, Jake. More than a couple rocks.” Following his lead, you filled it with some water, already feeling your need to rehydrate.

“Yeah, yeah.” Looking at him again, you noted how his smile had changed into one of his big grins. You pushed his shoulder gently before walking to the kitchen table and pulling a chair out to sit in.

Following suit, he joined you at the table, rotating his glass around his fingertips. “So, Josh give you any warning at all about us coming to visit?” His voice held a certain warmth this morning, lulling you into nearly ignoring a certain word he had chosen to use.

“Us? Don’t tell me…” Your eyes shot up to meet his, eyebrows immediately furrowing.

“Shit, he really didn’t tell you anything. Sam’s at the studio with him right now, doing what little brothers do best.” At least he wasn’t here. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him, you loved Sam. He was just more inclined to ask questions and make invasive observations than Jake, and you found yourself thanking the stars that he wasn’t here to witness and analyze your weak excuse for your puffy eyes. “At least they said they’d come home with dinner.”

You knew his eyes were on you, and as hard as you tried to keep up your unbothered demeanor, you also knew that Jake was always able to see straight through you. Thankfully, he didn’t take it as an opportunity to pry. You had to count your blessings, he never really did.

“Everyone else stayed home for the summer, work and internships and whatever nonsense they have. Nothing as exciting as coming to this place for a few days.” He nudged your arm with his elbow, pulling a small smile from you. Good enough for him.

It was always a gift to have Jake in a rambling mood. People would never know it when they saw him next to his twin, but he could talk just as much. On a good day, you could get him spiraling through topics every few minutes, keeping you happily entertained for hours.

“I mean, having you to visit in the middle of all the bullshit I’m dealing with with the band? Fucking saving me, you don’t even know.” Huffing a laugh and rolling his eyes, he took a moment to look around your kitchen. It wasn’t hard to see, after all of these years, that there was some sort of storm rumbling under his cool exterior.

“The band?” Your head tilted as you asked the question, your eyes not leaving his face as his caught on the little brass wall hanging in the shape of the sun that hung right above your head. He bit on the inside of his cheek as he mulled over his words.

Finally his thoughts solidified, but his eyes didn’t leave the metal sun. “When Josh moved out here, I had to scrap the whole band thing we had going.” His voice was heavier, almost like he was still mourning the loss of his twin. “Without Josh’s voice, every song was just kind of fucked… had to restart.”

Bringing his hand up to his face, he started playing with his bottom lip, running his fingers along the edge of it before pulling it a little. You knew there had to be a thousand things rushing through his head, though you’d never actually considered what coming to visit must do to him.

The move was hard for both of them, but especially so for Jake. To have a support system was one thing, but to have someone by your side for quite literally your entire life? It was a gift he hadn’t understood the true value of until it accepted an admission offer from across the country and tore his best friend away from him. His best friends.

“It’s interesting,” he seemed to snap out of his thoughts, “I never imagined my playing could sound like it does now.”

A laugh bubbled up from your chest as your eyes focused back on his. “Yeah, I guess studying for a music degree tends to enhance your skills.” There it was. That smile was back.

“If you say so, sunshine.” He tipped his glass back and forth on the table, watching the water inside lap against the sides as he formulated a new query. “Do you really remember everything?”

“Mostly.” You offered him a shrug as you sipped on your own drink. “The beginning of the summer is a little fuzzy, but it’s not like you were visiting then. At least not that I’m aware of.”

Letting out a little chuckle, he set his glass down flat and started to drum his fingertips on the tabletop. “Ah.”

“Ah?” An abrupt response wasn’t exactly what you were expecting, or what you were looking for.

“Just, uh, I was gonna offer to fill in some gaps, but you sound set.” His eyes went down to his tapping fingers after he spoke, the repetitive motion filling the silence with a dull noise.

“That all?” Your foot taps against his leg under the table, pulling his attention back to you.

“Yeah, yeah.�� Another soft laugh falls from the small smile that had found its way back to his lips. “Was hoping for your sake that you’d lost your memory of all those films Josh makes you rewatch. Make it feel like you were seeing them for the first time instead of the hundredth.”

A louder laugh comes from you, widening his grin. “At least they’re good. God forbid he had taste like yours.”

“Hey! In no world does A Clockwork Orange have better rewatch value than anything I’ve ever shown you.” Just like that, falling back into your routine, you and Jake laughed with each other for hours, up until the moment you heard the key turn in the front door’s lock. Up until that tiny click pulled you away from it, you’d been having possibly the most restorative day yet since you were released from the hospital.

Hearing the same thing as you, Jake rose from his seat, meeting his brothers at the door as it swung open. Pizza boxes in tow, Josh waltzed into the kitchen, tapping your head lightly as he breezed by you. Making as much of an effort as you could with the memory of that morning hitting you, you rose to meet Sam, letting him wrap his long arms around your shoulders.

“This asshole popped up behind me as I was trying to frame a scene this morning.” Josh shouted over his shoulder as he pulled plates from a cupboard. “I can’t imagine Jake’s entrance here was any less nightmare-inducing.”

Just like that, a war was instantly waged in your mind. You could respond, acting like nothing had happened, or you could not, leaving him hanging at the risk of sending this entire evening, possibly even Jake and Sam’s entire trip, to absolute disaster.

Luckily, a choice was made for you as Jake defended himself, “All I did was help myself to some water after my journey!”

“You make it sound like you walked here from Michigan.” You quipped back, pulling paper towels off the roll and setting them on the kitchen table next to the boxes.

As much as you wanted to run from this situation, to go lock yourself in your room, you knew that the younger brothers didn’t deserve that. You knew that showing up at an inopportune time shouldn’t sentence them to a week of silence and domestic warfare. Accordingly, you pulled it together, trying not to make a point of only responding to the two of them. As much as they had a right to a friendly visit, Josh had forfeited his right to your conversation.

So for the first time in what very well could have been your entire adult life, you sat through a dinner without so much as stealing a glance at Josh. You almost made it through unscathed, the clamor of laughter and shouting covering your pointed silence. Almost.

“I need to know where the hell I’m sleeping, because the floor didn’t exactly agree with me last time.” Jake’s words crashed into you like a freight train, the weight of them immediately sobering you to the reality of the closing night.

“Well I’m not taking the floor either.” Sam piped up, sealing your fate.

You could feel his eyes on you before a single sound escaped his mouth, confirming what was about to happen. “We could always just sleep in your bed. They can argue over the couch and mine. I’m not really worried about getting sick.” For the first time that night, you looked at Josh. It was almost painful, the way the warm kitchen lighting deepened the color of his eyes, inviting you in like a siren on a stormy night. He shot you a wink, the edges of his lips curling up.

“I don’t think so, I really don’t feel well. Why can’t one of them take the couch in your room? Then no one has to sleep on the floor.” Your eyes didn’t leave his, even as Sam started speaking again. Like it was a game. Like he was daring you to look away, to get flustered, to give in.

“I’m not sleeping in the same room as either of them, I wouldn’t get a wink of sleep with the way they snore.” That earned him an elbow from Jake, leaving the two of them to bicker.

“C’mon,” Josh just had to keep pressing you. To him, this was how it was meant to be. To him, you had no idea. To him, your condition was some sort of miraculous second chance at whatever game he was playing. “It's not like it’s new for us. Jake can take my bed, Sam’ll sleep out here. Seems like everyone wins.”

That was as much as you could take. Because you couldn’t let him win. Not when you were losing as badly as this. “No.” It came out harsher than you would have liked, but drove the point home quicker than anything else you could have said. Knowing the look on his face had the ability to break your resolve, you went back to avoiding interaction with him.

Not giving them time to get up or say anything about your response, you gave Jake and Sam quick hugs before turning and walking straight back to your bedroom, swinging the door fully shut behind you.

As you got ready for bed, you could hear the shocked silence slowly turn into quiet bickering, no doubt over who got to sleep away from the others. You let the darkness of your room wash over you as you collected yourself, speechlessly praising yourself for staying firm on your decided course. Eventually, as you laid in bed scrolling through every app that offered some sort of distraction, the conversation died down to nothing as they found their spots for the night.

Texts from the twins rolled in during the silence, both asking what was wrong, Jake offering an open ear. As much as your mind was begging to be unburdened, you knew you couldn’t. Not now. So while you drifted off to sleep alone, a million thoughts ran through your head, each one of them focused on the boy who lived in the next room over.

#josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka #gvf fic #landslide fic

22 notes · View notes