#regardless she would still be treated as less than someone

[trappedinafantasy37]

I just went back over my footage of the confrontation between DJ Shadowheart and Viconia as I edit my next chapter and noticed a pretty interesting pattern.

As I've mentioned plenty of times before, Minthara and Shadowheart do have shared mommy issues and I think Minthara would connect with Shadowheart over that. Minthara also has a habit of using the word "child" when speaking to children or those that she perceives as being in need of guidance, such as Lae'zel or Shadowheart herself. One of my mutuals proposed the theory that Minthara uses "child" as that is more than likely how her own mother spoke to her.

In the confrontation between Shadowheart and Viconia, Viconia repeatedly uses the word "girl" when speaking to Shadowheart. If my mutuals theory is correct, this would draw an immediately parallel between Shadowheart and Minthara in regards to how they were treated by their mothers, and could provide some insight into Minthara's relationship with her own mother. Personally, in regards to the gods and their mother figures, Minthara can easily project herself into Shadowheart's situation, similarly to how she projects herself into Durge's situation (since Shadowheart and Durge have very similar storylines).

This is something that I do plan on addressing in To Be Free From the Gods and my eventual Shadowheart fic. But, just imagine how Minthara feels watching one of her closest allies be treated by their mother in the same way that she was when she was a child. Now, Minthara is definitely one of those people that goes, "I was beaten as a kid and I turned out fine" (when it is very obvious to everyone around her that she is not fine). However, Minthara also does label her mother as her tormentor so it makes me feel that Minthara deep down does acknowledge she was abused as a child, even if she feels that abuse did make her stronger. But Minthara is also extremely protective of those that are in her circle and would not abide witnessing one of her allies being abused in a similar manner.

I'm gonna get a little personal here, which isn't something that I do often. But, I had a parent who often spoke to me with that kind of language. They would often refer to me as "half a person", or "not quite yet a person", or "still cooking", and things similar to Minthara being called "child" or Shadowheart being called "girl". Even as I got older, the language never changed and they often did not even call me by my name and instead opted to use these "nicknames" for me. Because to them, I was always going to be a child. And that type of language made me feel so small and weak. They always wanted to remind me that I was less than them, that I could never accomplish what they could, that I would never be able to understand what they could, and that I would always be dependent on them because otherwise I would fail without them. It's dehumanizing.

Shadowheart is nearly 50 years old (cause remember, she's a half-elf). And Viconia is still calling her "girl" because that's what Viconia wants Shadowheart to feel like. She wants Shadowheart to feel small, and weak, and like a child. Even when she has Shar's (or Selune's) favor, there is just a brief moment, and it is really easy to miss, but for just a brief moment, that is exactly what Shadowheart feels when she encounters Viconia again. And Minthara is just standing there, watching this interaction take place. Throwing her back to herself growing into her own 50's, and then making her first century, and then getting to 200 years old, going through clerical school, becoming a paladin of Lolth, and yet still being called "child" by her mother. Not to mention, the prefix "Min" in her name translates to "lesser" in drowic. For as long as Minthara would live, she would always be less than her mother and her mother would never let her forget it or feel otherwise.

It must be so cathartic for Minthara to watch Shadowheart kill Viconia as that is all Minthara wants to do to her own mother for tormenting her and always making her feel weak.

[grandmother-goblin]

No One Will Notice

Chapter 1

Ao3 - Masterlist

Summary: It had been nearly an entire day since Emmrich's wonderful date with Rook in the Memorial Gardens, but he couldn't help but worry that he had left a less-than-favorable impression. Especially given the disastrously awkward end to the evening.

Relationships: Emmrich x Female!Rook

Rating: Explicit (18+) for eventual smut.

Word Count: 3.7k

Tags: Kitchen make-outs, romance, fluff, age-gap, relationship discussion about aforementioned age-gap, gratuitous overthinking.

The small, antique clock atop the fireplace in Emmrich’s room ticked away another minute, and it felt like it was taunting him. Reminding him that he had made next to no progress in reviewing a colleague’s latest book based on studies of lesser known and rare spirits. A fascinating topic, and one that he had been looking forward to reading, but he couldn’t focus.

He hadn’t been able to focus on anything. Not on the book in his lap, or his lessons with Manfred. His mind even wandered off whilst in the middle of corpse-whispering. His date with Isera in the Memorial Gardens last night had consumed his every thought.

It played over and over again in his mind like a carousel of ephemeral memories. Most of which were quite pleasant — Isera’s red painted lips as she smiled at him from across the table, the huskiness of her voice and the lightness of her laughter, the way her fingers played with his as she wordlessly asked to hold his hand, her soft moan when he captured her mouth with his…

The phantom of her touch lingered on his lips like a schoolboy who had their very first kiss. He swore he could still smell her perfume when he closed his eyes — a delicate mix of sandalwood and jasmine that he had inhaled when he lavished her slender throat with his lips. His face warmed when he thought of how she had breathlessly whispered his name, and what she might have sounded like had they gone further.

But that moment just outside of her bedroom cut through his heated memories like a shard of ice.

In retrospect, he could have handled things much better, but he had simply panicked. Emmrich rubbed his eyes with his forefinger and thumb, exhaling deeply as he tried to ward off the chill of discomfiture, knowing he had let his nerves get the best of him. All because of a persistent, nagging thought — one that he had incorrectly presumed he had already come to terms with — decided to rear its head the moment Isera’s eyes invitingly flickered toward the bedroom door.

Self-consciousness, shame, and fear doused his lust and desire in an instant.

Twenty-seven years.

Isera was twenty-seven years younger than him. Her bright eyes, deep-green like winter conifers and framed with long lashes, had no signs of crow's feet, and there wasn’t a single strand of grey in her dark brown hair.

He was old enough to be her father, yet he had been treating her as he would someone around his own age the entire night. Like they were two grown adults on a lovely date, which they were, but…

What would other people think when they saw him and Isera together? Would they think he was some lecherous old man, manipulating a young woman who didn’t know any better into bed? Would they judge Isera for being attracted to him and accuse her of unsavory motivations?

People would talk, regardless of either his or Isera’s feelings or intentions toward one another. Moving too quickly would only feed the worst of the people who would see their relationship in bad faith.

More than his own reputation, he worried for hers. What if she hadn’t thought things through? What if she ended up regretting spending the night with him? Emmrich would never have been able to forgive himself.

So, instead of accepting the invitation that he had secretly been hoping for the entire night, he had taken a step back.

He needed to be cautious. He needed to take things slower than he would have liked. For both of their sakes.

A teasing specter of belated regret haunted him, replaying the moment he had pulled away from her. The moment the desire in Isera’s eyes was replaced with hurt and confusion. How her throat bobbed as she swallowed down his rejection. How she gave him a hollow smile when he blamed the late hour and the wine and the need to be responsible. Reasons that had nothing to do with her, or his feelings towards her.

He should have just been honest with her.

He should have at least tried to correct himself before he said goodnight. But the damage had already been done and he feared any immediate attempt to rectify the situation would seem disingenuous. So instead, he had pressed a kiss to her forehead, a feeble attempt at reassurance. Considering how small her voice sounded when she bid him goodnight, it didn’t do much good.

Emmrich closed the book in his lap and stared at the dwindling flames in the fireplace, resting his chin on his hand as he leaned against the arm of his chair. After hours of teasing touches and stolen kisses… oh, he couldn’t begin to imagine what Isera might think of him.

The best he could hope for was that Isera saw the whole interaction as nothing more than the faux pas that it was, and she was willing to forgive him for leading her on for the entire evening. Had he been in her shoes, he would probably be wracking his brain trying to figure out where things had gone wrong.

A log in the fireplace crackled, and Emmrich’s eyes followed a single bright orange ember as it blackened, burning out in the soot. If he didn’t talk to Isera soon, he feared his relationship with her might do the same.

They hadn’t spoken since they had parted ways last night. Emmrich hadn’t seen her at breakfast, or while he was assisting Bellara with one of her projects in the courtyard, or when he had spent an hour reading in the main library where he had secretly hoped he would catch her. Perhaps on her way into or out of her room, or the courtyard, or even the eluvian. Most days, he would have run into her at least once or twice, but not today.

Well, enough was enough. Emmrich stood from his chair and returned his colleague’s book to the bookshelf, knowing he was in no state to give it a proper review while Isera occupied his every thought. He needed to talk to her. The only reason he hadn’t done so sooner was that part of him had been hoping that Isera would have sought him out as she usually did, giving him some reassurance that everything was still okay between them.

But she hadn’t. And if she was upset with him, he needed to do whatever he could to try to ameliorate the situation.

That was, of course, if she still wanted him.

Emmrich turned to a small, ornate mirror he kept perched on a bookshelf and quickly checked over his reflection. “You’re being ridiculous,” he muttered to himself as he straightened his collar pin. “You just made a bit of a fool of yourself, that’s all. There is nothing to worry about. Isera will be perfectly understanding.”

Talking to himself helped soothe his anxiety, if only a little bit. Sometimes it was easier to put his problems into perspective by saying them aloud. What happened outside the bedroom was just a tiny hiccup in their relationship — a learning experience.

According to the clock above the fireplace, it was close to supper time. Provided that the cooking rotation hadn’t changed without him knowing, he knew he would find Isera in the kitchen making something delicious. Perhaps he could see if she required any assistance and, if they were alone, he could talk to her before the team all sat down to eat.

Ideally, he and Isera could have a productive conversation and everything would be good between them before their companions could suspect something was amiss.

He and Isera had yet to discuss how to broach the topic of their relationship with the rest of the team. It was so new, and it hadn’t seemed necessary. But he would hate for the others to find out in less than ideal circumstances. He would never hear the end of it.

Worry trickled into his stomach again at the thought of what their companions might think; an old man like himself in a relationship with a young woman like Isera…

Emmrich pushed those thoughts aside before they could catch a foothold in his mind. The others could think whatever they wanted to think. Isera was the only person he needed to be worried about. Everyone else’s opinion was secondary.

Isera was a grown woman, perfectly capable of making her own decisions about whose company she wished to keep. And she had shown that time and time again that she wanted him with her soft smiles, silken kisses and sweet words.

And it was high time he assured her that he still wanted her too.

—

Isera laid another thin sheet of pasta over her carefully measured dollops of a mushroom and ricotta mixture. She had made this recipe dozens of times, yet she had still made a few more mistakes while constructing the ravioli than she cared to admit. Nothing unsalvageable, but it did end up taking more time than she had expected.

Normally she would have picked something easier to make for the team than homemade pasta, but after her date with Emmrich ended somewhat awkwardly, she found herself craving some comfort food.

Her face heated as she remembered the mild panic on Emmrich’s face when he pulled away from her. It was as if he had suddenly realized he had forgotten something important — something that needed to be addressed immediately. But instead of telling her what that something was, he gave her a flimsy excuse about the late hour and walked away like he had other places to be.

It didn’t feel right. Not because he had turned her down, but it was more about the manner in which he did so. If he wasn’t comfortable with going further, she was perfectly fine with that. It simply seemed odd to her that they had been tiptoeing toward the bedroom the entire night only for him to turn tail once they got to the door.

Had she completely misread the situation? Her stomach fluttered at the memory of his hands on her hips, and the subtle roughness of his facial hair against her skin as his lips dragged down her neck to her collarbone.

Isera shook her head. Something happened. Something must have happened. She just didn’t know what. What was worse, she wasn’t even sure how to ask him about it. What could she say? Hey, I know you said you wanted to stop last night because it was late but I think that’s bullshit and you should tell me what was really going on?

There was a reason why none of her previous relationships had lasted very long, and it was mostly her own fault. Being direct and honest worked great for her professionally, but in interpersonal relationships or matters that required a more delicate touch, not so much. It was something she was working on.

Waiting for a pot of water to come to a boil, Isera leaned against the kitchen counter and took a sip from her glass of white wine. If Emmrich simply wasn’t ready to spend the night together, she wished he would have said as much. At least then she could stop fretting over whether or not she had done something wrong.

Whatever happened last night, more than anything, she hoped Emmrich was okay. She hoped she hadn’t made him uncomfortable, or made him feel pressured — that was the last thing she wanted. She hoped that the awkwardness was just new relationship jitters and nothing more.

She took another slow sip of wine—

“Isera, darling?”

The wine caught in the back of her throat. Turning away from the counter, she managed to swallow it down before breaking into a pathetic, barely stifled, coughing fit.

Yep, that was exactly the first thing she wanted him to see after last night. If he hadn’t been attracted to her before, he certainly would be now.

“Hi, Emmrich,” she croaked, her cheeks burning from nearly choking on her wine and her dignity.

“I didn’t mean to startle you, my dear,” he said with a warm chuckle as he approached. “Can I get you anything? Perhaps some water?”

Isera shook her head. Given her luck, she’d probably choke on the water too. “I’m good,” she said, catching her breath. “Let’s just pretend you didn’t see that.”

“You’ve nothing to be embarrassed about,” he said, smiling at her in a way that oddly made her feel a little better. At least, it made her feel like he wasn’t completely disgusted by her. “These sorts of things happen. I’ve certainly had my fair share of such moments.”

“You should tell me one of them. Just to make us even.”

“Oh, give it time,” he replied. “I’m certain things will even out in that department soon enough.”

A smile tugged on the corner of her lip at the implication; if he thought he would be around long enough to embarrass himself, perhaps she hadn’t turned him off from her after all.

“Dinner should be ready in the next half hour.” Isera turned her attention back to the pot of now boiling water. “I just have to finish up the sauce and cook the pasta.”

Emmrich’s hand brushed over the small of her back as he looked over her shoulder. “Is there anything I can do to provide some assistance,” he asked, his tone light and friendly, like there wasn’t a hint of anything wrong between them. “Though it seems like you’ve done most of the hard work. The pasta looks absolutely perfect, by the way.”

The compliment combined with his causal touch made her stomach do a funny little flip. “Thank you,” she said, sounding more composed than she felt. “If you want to cook the ravioli for me, that would be very helpful. We’ll have to cook them in a few batches.”

Emmrich pressed a brief kiss to the top of her head. “Consider it done, my dear,” he said and went to the sink. He pushed up his sleeves and his bracelets far enough that he could wash his hands without getting anything else wet, and Isera couldn’t help the smile tugging on her lips as she watched him from the corner of her eye. It wasn’t uncommon for Mourn Watchers, especially senior ones, to wear their grave goods as part of their daily attire, but Isera couldn’t remember the last time she had been so entranced by someone’s jewelry.

Or, perhaps, her fascination only had to do with the man wearing it.

Last night, she had asked him about his rings as she played with his hands. One had once belonged to his father, another had a protective enchantment, yet another was one that he wore simply because he enjoyed it. She remembered the feel of them against her skin when laced his fingers with her own, when he cupped her face and brought his mouth to hers, when he slipped his hands beneath her shirt….

Focus. If she messed up dinner because she was too busy thinking about Emmrich, she was never going to let herself live that down.

Isera turned her attention to the cutting board and kitchen knife she had set out earlier and began to work on preparing garlic for the sauce. Behind her, she could hear Emmrich starting on his own task.

Although everything seemed like it had gone back to normal between them, Isera’s found herself unable to relax as the silence stretched between them. Normally, bouts of silence between her and Emmrich were perfectly comfortable, but not now.

“I had a lot of fun last night,” Isera said, knowing she would drive herself mad if she didn’t at least try to talk to him about what had been plaguing her mind all day. She just had to be careful about it. Nothing too direct. She didn’t want to accidentally accuse him of something that only existed in her head.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he replied, sounding genuine. “Although, speaking of last night, there is something I want to talk to you about. Regarding when we parted for the evening.”

Anticipatory dread dropped down in her stomach, and she set her chopping aside before her nerves caused her to make a mistake. “I’ve been wanting to talk about that too. I feel like I might have misread the situation, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Isera, you didn’t misread anything.” His voice was so soft and warm that it immediately eased some of her anxiety. “You were perfect, my dear. I’m the one who ought to apologize for making you doubt yourself for even a moment.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him with a slight frown. “It was hard not to think so,” she said. “You left so suddenly. I felt like I had done something wrong and you were just making an excuse to leave.”

Emmrich sighed. “I suppose I was, but it was just…” His lips drew into a thin line as he stared at the pot as if he hoped it would finish his sentence for him. “Until that moment— If we were closer in age, I wouldn’t have given it a second thought. But with the years between us, I worried that taking that step too soon might negatively impact your perception of me.”

“But you knew that going into this.”

“I know,” he agreed, his voice soft and twinged with unmistakable shame. “I suppose it didn’t truly sink in until then.”

Isera leaned back against the counter and picked up her glass of wine, needing something to do with her hands as her stomach tied itself in knots.

There wasn’t anything she could do if he truly found himself uncomfortable with the years between them. While she would be incredibly frustrated that he hadn’t spoken up sooner, maybe even a little angry, she would accept it. She’d have to. At least he would have nipped their romantic relationship in the bud rather than waiting for it to bloom.

Isera took a sip of her wine and turned her gaze downward, mentally counting the tiles on the floor as the seconds stretched on. “So what does that mean? Do you… want to stop?”

A wooden spoon clattered against the counter. “No!” he said and crossed the kitchen in a few long strides. “No, no, no. Not at all.”

Carefully, he took the glass of wine from her and set it on the counter behind her. Then he gathered her hands in his, giving them reassuring squeeze as he looked at her imploringly. “It means I spent the entire day wishing I had simply asked you if you thought we were moving too quickly instead of making the decision for both of us.” His thumb brushed over hers soothingly and he sighed. “I let my nerves get the better of me. And for that, I’m sorry. It had nothing to do with you. I need you to know that.”

Slowly, the tension in her muscles eased as she absorbed his words. A relieved breath of laughter passed her lips. “I was worried that I had scared you off.”

“Impossible, dearest.” The warm metal of his jewelry against her skin was like a balm to her frayed nerves as he adjusted his hold on her hand. As if she were some sort of lady rather than a warrior, he brought her fingers to his lips. Without breaking his gaze, he pressed a lingering kiss to her knuckles. “Quite the opposite, in fact.”

Warmth pooled in the pit of her stomach as her heartbeat quickened, her worries evaporating into the ether. “Are you sure?” she asked, the question genuine despite the playfulness of her tone. “You might have to convince me.”

“Absolutely,” he said and took a step closer, forcing her to tilt her head back to see him. He dragged his thumb across her lower lip as he cradled her face in his palms. “But I could certainly try to convince you anyway.”

“I think you should.”

“As do I,” Emmrich whispered, his mouth brushing against hers as he spoke.

His long, elegant, fingers slid to the nape of her neck, threading through her dark hair, before he covered her mouth with his. Isera inhaled deeply as she looped her arms around his neck, breathing in the scent of him — the faint smell of his aftershave, like citrus and tea leaves, and the clean scent of his soap. His presence, his touch, enveloped her completely. It was all too easy to forget where they were.

Soft but commanding, he nudged her mouth open with a confident stroke of his tongue. She let him walk her back until he nearly had her bent over the countertop, her body pressed between the hard surface and the firm contours of his body. Despite friendly jokes claiming otherwise from Davrin and Taash, Emmrich was remarkably fit. As if to prove it, he slid his arms around her and lifted her easily onto the edge of the counter.

Her hands cupped his face as he continued to kiss her like there was nothing in the world he would rather be doing. Heat pooled deep within her as he tilted her head, exploring her mouth with satiny strokes of his tongue. She couldn’t help but smile at the delicate tickle of his mustache against her skin as his mouth caught hers again and again and again.

“Emmrich,” she breathed, lifting her mouth from his. “As much as I hate to ruin the mood… the pasta…”

His eyes widened with a brief, minor, flash of alarm. “Oh, dear.” He pressed another brief, heated kiss to her lips before scurrying across the kitchen to rescue the first batch of ravioli. “It appears they survived our momentary inattentiveness.”

Isera laughed and slid off of the counter. “I should have picked something that doesn’t cook so quickly.”

“Not sure if that would have helped,” he replied as he started on the next batch. “You could keep me occupied for hours, my dear.”

Crimson colored her cheeks, ignited by the heat in his words the spark of desire in his gaze. She swallowed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Emmrich stirred the pot. “So will I.”

---

Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

[tulip-room]

♡•◦Excuses◦•♡

Pairing: Suna x Chubby! Fem! Reader

Content: Suna’s little sister loves your sweet treats. That’s definitely why he’s in there so often

Words: 2k

a/n: This is part of my Sweet Treats writing series! So stayed tuned for the other parts. This is the second story in the series you can find the other one and the future ones in the post!! I hope you enjoy me adding to the Suna chubby chaser agenda <3

 “No, I’m serious Rin. It’s literally the best bakery I have ever been to. They don’t only have baked goods either, they have a deli with regular sandwiches and pretzel buns. It’s mouthwatering.” Suna’s sister exclaims trying to get her brother to agree to take her to the aforementioned bakery. He rolls his eyes with a sigh and starts putting his jacket on.

“Fine, but only if you’ll finally stop talking about it.” The two walk out the door, Suna following behind his sister. She seems excited and as much as he pretends to hate her ramblings it’s endearing and he enjoys making his sister happy. 

“Hello little Suna!” They’re greeted as soon as they walk in. “Who did you bring with you?” Suna looks up and has to take a moment to collect himself. Less than five feet away is the most beautiful woman he thinks he’s ever seen. She has flour on her apron and a bit of chocolate on her cheek, most people wouldn’t think she was his type. Most people were wrong, he lives for chubbier people. More of them to love, as people say. He hasn’t even realized that his sister was talking about him. 

“Yeah, this is my brother. Rinatarou?” She waves a hand in front of his face, she’s abit amused by the blush building on his cheeks and how quickly he froze when he caught a look at her favorite baker. Now she can’t say this wasn’t her plan, she knew her brother would love you. But she was pleasantly surprised to see she was right. 

Suna shakes his head and comes back to where the two of you are laughing slightly. Wow, even your laugh was pretty. “What can I help you with?” And suddenly his mouth is dry and he’s not sure what to say. He clears his thoat and looks at the menu. 

“Uhm…a…ham, cheese, lettuce, tomato sandwich on a pretzel bun. And whatever she wants,” he points at his sister who rattles off her order. He sighs and pulls his card out of his wallet. 

“Alright, I’ll have that right out for you two,” you say, handing his card back to him. Your fingers brush accidentally and Suna takes a quick breath in. His sister can’t help the laugh that escapes her mouth and tries to cover it with a cough. The two make their way over to a table still in view of the counter and the kitchen. Suna is pushed into a chair where he can see you as his sister sits opposite him.

“So,” she smiles at him teasingly. “Y/N huh?”

“Y/N? Is that her name?” He asks, a little distracted as he watches you work. His sister doesn’t need to turn around to see what has his attention. 

“Mhm, she’s single you know.”

“She is?” That got his attention. His head whips to his sister.

“Yup, complains that she needs someone to cook and bake for all the time. If only I knew someone who is hopeless at cooking?” She taps her chin as she looks at him. “Seriously Rin, if you don’t get her to be your girlfriend I will. I need her fresh baked bread.”

“Is that all this is?”

“No, I want both of you to be happy, she’s been very nice to me and you deserve someone as good as her. So man up and ask her out.” She says it a little louder than he likes and it catches the attention of the other patrons. He flicks her forehead with a frown.

“Don’t say it so loud.” He whisper-yells at her. Eventually their order gets called and Suna gets up to collect it. When you smile at him he thinks he died. He just gives you a small smile back. “Thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome, Suna.”

“Rintarou, you can call me Rintarou, it would get a little confusing with my sister anyway.”

“Okay, you’re more than welcome, Rintarou.” Did his name always sound that nice or was it just you who made it sound nice. Regardless he takes the food and sits back down.

“Oh my goodness, can you be anymore whipped?”

“You planned this.” He glares gently at his sister.

“You can’t prove that,” she shrugs with a smile and starts digging into her sandwich.

Day One

You weren’t expecting to see Suna again, at least without the company of his sister. “Hello Rintarou,” you greet him as he walks in and finish checking out a customer. They didn’t request a sandwich so you just had to measure out the cookies. He stood patiently behind the person. Once they leave it’s just you and Suna in the shop again. “What brings you in?”

He hadn’t thought that far. “Uhm..just.” He clears his throat and scracthes the back of his neck in a shy manner. “Just picking something up for my sister.”

“Oh, okay.” You start putting things in the computer. “Anything else? I already put her usual in.” You give him a kind smile and try not to think about how his cheeks turn slightly red at the action.

“Nope, that’s it.” You nod and head to the back to make the sandwich. When you come back you get his payment. “My sister really loves you- er your baked goods and sandwiches.”

“I’m aware, it makes my day to see her. She’s adorable, always going on and on about her brother. If I didn’t know any better I would think she was trying to set us up.” You tease gently and hand him the wrapped sandwich.

“Yeah, that would be silly.”

“Maybe, she did a good job selling you. See you later, Rintarou.” You wave as you turn to help the customer that had just walked in. He leaves the bakery with less money in his wallet and a blush on his cheeks.

Day Two

Once again the brown haired man came into the bakery without the presence of his little sister. “Hello Rintarou,” you greet him. This time he’s the only customer in the bakery so the two of you have time to chat before you make his order. “You know, if you come in everyday I may think you’re not just here for your sister.” You tease him as you ring up the order. Your fingers brush against his again as you take his card from him.

“That would be absurd Y/N. Obviously I’m here to treat my little sister while I’m in town.” He smiles and leans his arm on the counter as he rests his chin in the palm of his hand. 

“Mhm, of course.” You give him a smile of you own and hand him the carefully packaged sandwich. “Tell the little Suna I said hello.”

“What not going to say hello to me? Your favorite Suna?”

“I did say hello to you, when you walked in. And favorite? I don’t know about all that, the jury is still out on it.” You lean against the counter yourself. Suna takes the opportunity to wipe at the chocolate on your cheek that taunts him everyday he comes in. Your face grows warm and it’s your turn to stutter.

“Sure I’m not your favorite?”

You let out a small laugh and push his shoulder gently. “It takes more than some teasing to be my favorite. Goodbye Rintarou.” You wave at him as a group walks into the bakery. 

Day Three

Day three is when you call him out. He had to wait in line and there’s more of a crowd in the bakery than there usually is. Probably something to do with it being a Friday. You still wave at him when he comes in and he patiently waits at the end of the line. Thankfully by the time he gets up to the counter there’s only two more customers after him. He orders and stands to the side to talk to you when you become free again. 

“Sorry about that Rintarou,” you turn to him with a smile. He waves you off as you wipe your hands off on your apron. 

“You own a business, I would hope it’s not always empty.” He plays with the container of straws, spinning one around. Happy to see that everyone was sitting down enjoying their food. You allow yourself to lean on the counter as well. 

“Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays are my busiest.” 

“Makes sense.”

“You know the funniest thing happened yesterday.” He hums looking at you in confusion clearly wanting you to go on. “Your sister came into the shop wanting a sandwich. Consider me shocked when I told her you had already come in earlier to get her one. She looked just as shocked as I was.”

Shit. That was the first thing that came to his mind as he reached a hand up to rub the back of his neck. He looks away as his face grows red. “Did she?” He asks his voice, lifting up near the end of the question. 

“Mhm. Isn’t that funny?”

“Hilarious.” He was going to scream into his pillow when he got home and probably glare at his sister through dinner. “Would you look at the time, I have to get home.” He checks a fake watch on his wrist. 

“I think it’s cute that you’re using it as an excuse to see me. I enjoy seeing you too. Goodbye, Rintarou.” You wave at him as he races out the door covering his face with a hand. He still wasn’t used to how gently you would call his name in greetings or goodbyes.

Day Four

It was the last day of his visit, his sister had come in earlier to tease her brother over the situation from yesterday. You scolded her lightly and told her not to tease him too much or he might not come back.

“Like that would happen, he’s whipped your honor.” The two of you are still laughing when he enters the shop. What was she doing here? He remembers requesting his sister not show up today but he supposes he can’t always get what he wants.

“Hello, Rintarou.” Yeah, he’s done for if you keep saying his name like that. “Here to get something for your sister?” You tease and he shakes his head with a small smile. 

“Seems she got something for herself.” He looks at the drink and sandwich in his sister’s hands. Getting the hint she walks away after waving to you. 

“So, what actually brings you in today.”

“I’m here to order something for myself.”

“And what would that be?” You lean closer to him.

“Your number.” It was a surprise, not an unwelcome one though. 

“Okay, give me your phone. It’ll cost you though.” You hold your hand out for him to place his phone in your hand.

“What will it cost me?” He hands his phone over to you with a smile. 

“A date, a proper one.” You smile as you put your number in and hand the phone back to the dumbfounded man. You hear quiet clapping and see his sister smiling and giving you a thumbs up from behind him. He whips his head around and she pretends like she was eating her sandwich the whole time. 

“Deal. I’ll be back in a few weeks, you can cash your date in then.”

“Okay, see you then Rintarou.”

Bonus:

Suna smiles at his phone in between breaks. Now it wasn’t unusual for him to be on his phone during breaks in practice but it was a surprise that he all but ran to it. “Got a girlfriend, Sunarin?” Komori teases as he tries to look over Suna’s shoulder.

“Not yet, but hopefully.” He smiles as he answers. Komori can’t even tease him more because he’s not quite sure he’s ever seen the boy look so happy. Suna knew he would have to thank his sister some more when he visited again, many hours of listening to her gossip (and not pretending like he didn’t care) it would also result in getting his nails painted while they gossiped. They were chipping anyway.

rules masterlist

taglist: @sanaexus

[kazoohaa]

Hello hello hellooo I saw hsr and APPEARED I must ask for Kafka with a stoic s/o like everyone in danger s/o is hurt and their just like “ow oh no😐”

𝐔𝐍𝐅𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐃. honkai star rail

— notes. these two requests had the same kind of theme so i merged it into one post 👍

— details. kafka, dan heng, jing yuan, blade x gn!reader (separate). fluff. tw: descriptions of injuries. all of them might be ooc im sorry sjhdhksjkd

kafka

she honestly takes this as grounds to tease you and attempt to find what makes you tick — she finds it as a fun challenge to see what would be able to make your expression shift.

having an unreadable demeanour is an advantage in her profession, as well as having the ability to maintain a calm exterior no matter what the situation. so really, kafka mostly doesn’t have any qualms about your behaviour, especially since it also gives her a bit of entertainment from time to time

well, she doesn’t have any qualms about it until you rock up with a concerning injury, but seem to be regarding it with nothing but utter nonchalance.

her light plum eyes narrow slightly, examining the long cut down your arm with a hint of scrutiny within her gaze. kafka ‘tsk’s, glancing up to meet your eyes for a moment; a silent question wondering about how you’re so calm about this.

despite how her hands are quick to reach out and grasp your arm, her hold on you is gentle.

she pulls you closer, saying something about how you shouldn’t take your injuries so lightly. kafka whisks you away to a more secluded place and has you sit down while she takes on the role of your temporary personal medic.

“you should take more care of your own wellbeing, alright? sit still and let me treat your wounds.” her words are spoken with something like a drawl, tilting her head as she speaks, but she pats your head and gets to work with helping you afterwards.

dan heng

well, then you wouldn’t be the only one on the astral express who exhibits calm behaviour all the time — but admittedly, you’re more proficient at keeping it up than dan heng is.

he tells himself that it’s one less thing to worry about, since your other companions are already quite the group to take care of. march is always running off to take photos or poke in others’ business, and the trailblazer’s probably digging through trash cans for... who knows what, honestly.

you’re reliable and composed, and he appreciates this aspect of you. it’d certainly come in handy in many situations, and so again, he tells himself that he doesn’t have to worry about you...

but he is still very much worried.

especially upon spotting the thin but long cut on the side of your torso.

his eyebrows furrow — this is one of the few situations where you actually manage to catch a glimpse of him showing pure unconcealed concern.

dan heng sighed, inquiring about how you even got that and if it hurts a lot. regardless of your response to the either question, he’s already on helping clean and patch up the injury. “battles are inevitable along our journey, but you should be more on-guard next time.” he said, checking his handiwork and making sure that the bandages were secure.

jing yuan

it’s part of what makes you very interesting to him, actually — seeing how most things never really crack your solid exterior.

people don’t usually come across someone like you every day. even for xianzhou natives, who naturally have much longer lifespans than others, don’t often meet someone with your level of calm. even jing yuan himself couldn’t say that he’s met many individuals who share your traits, even with his experience.

it’s good to be levelheaded in a fight, whether it be physical or verbal. jing yuan quietly appreciates your ability to keep a clear mind and keep your sights set on the goal. it’s a good skill for people to have on the battlefield.

it’s simultaneously fascinating and concerning to see how you still don’t bat an eye even when you’re injured. for a brief moment, jing yuan ponders over whether he should accompany you the next time you are headed out into the places on the luofu which are more packed with mara-struck soldiers.

he knows that you’re a capable fighter on your own, but how could you expect him not to worry on your behalf when you’ve ended up injuring yourself like this?

however, tending to your wounds takes precedence over those other matters, so he pushes that aside and helps you out first.

the general certainly isn’t a medical professional, but he at least knows how to dress a wound. with many years of experience on the battlefield under his belt, this comes naturally to him. after cleaning the gash, he carefully wraps the bandages around the injured area, asking you if it’s too tight and then asking again to double-check, since he finds that attempting to get a read on your expression didn’t really work too much.

jing yuan sighs, reminding you that you should be more careful next time. would you need your injuries checked by lady bailu after this? he’ll accompany you on the way there.

blade

wow you guys are twinning!!! 🤝

/j

but, unlike him, you don’t possess that same self-healing ability that he has, so while it may be ironic of him to do so, he’s silently questioning your pain management abilities.

blade doesn’t usually spare anyone a second look, but if you keep a careful eye out, you might catch him taking a surreptitious glance at you, silently giving your wounds a once-over. it’s curious how you manage to stay that calm even when you’re injured like that.

the sight of you getting hurt in some shape or form was a bit of a common occurrence, but no matter the severity of the injuries, you still maintained that unbothered demeanour.

huh. with that sort of behaviour you display, you’d expect someone like that to manage to not get into this many scuffles, but here you were.

clearly, out of the other stellaron hunters, you seemed more injury-prone. maybe it was something that balanced out your stoic countenance. blade has half the mind to simply drag you back to a safer area himself just to get you away from danger.

he mutters some form of curse or complaint under his breath as he sits you down onto the ground then crouches in front of you, lifting your left calf to inspect the injury. “how do you always manage to do this?” he muttered, earning no response.

that fragmentum creature had swiped at your calf and also left a small burn. blade raised an unimpressed eyebrow, seeing your still unchanged expression.

he may be uttering some complaints and saying that he shouldn’t have to look after you like some babysitter, but he in no way would tend to your injury sloppily. in contrast to his remarks, he handles your wound carefully. before you knew it, it’s been skilfully cleaned and bandaged up. “rest it.” he tells you. he’s not completely sure if you’d follow that, though, so with a scoff, blade adds that he’ll make sure of it himself.

[minkdelovely]

love and power

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chapter six

“the more that you give away the more that you have.”

Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+ ; [y/n] used sparingly ; Alias in Hell is Sylvie

tags/warnings: diet codependency (doesn’t quench the thirst), mentions: blood play; biting, slow burn eventual: smut

word count: 3.2k

author’s note: don’t get too excited over the tags lol but we’re kicking things into gear cherished ones. i’m unsure how many chapters are left but i’d like to aim for ten (total; i’m low-key flying by the seat of my pants) but fire is starting to catch as we close in on our journey. thank you for sticking with me on this, i hope it’s been as fun for you as it has been for me and that my gratitude is properly conveyed in this chapter ❤️‍🔥

prelude ; chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four ; chapter five ; chapter six ; chapter seven ; chapter eight ; chapter nine ; chapter ten: part one ; chapter ten: part two

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Watching Alastor leave the hotel without you felt… strange. When he passed through the door you half expected to feel that invisible tugging at your neck, beckoning you to follow, but it never came. Leaving you unsure how to deal with the level of disappointment you felt at its absence. All you hoped was that he couldn’t see it in your eyes when he turned to give you a final smile before walking down the entrance stairs.

It had turned out to be quite the morning, just not in the way you had expected. Alastor told you about how your afternoons were to be spent over his breakfast, not the least bit apologetic for springing it on you at the last minute in spite of knowing since yesterday. A couple things clicked into place with this knowledge, like your conversation at the cafe. Just as you had suspected, what you had ended up talking about had nothing to do with the important things he had sat you down for.

That’s what he meant when he said he had a busy morning, you thought as you watched him pick at his food, looking less and less like the wraith you had seen the night before. You had used the phrase duality of man as a joke in your mortal life, but Alastor set quite a bar for it. Despite the short amount of time you’ve spent with him, you really had managed to learn a lot about him. A goal of yours that seemed to be… shifting.

What had been born from a place of survival was now skirting the lines of fascination. A discomfort settled in you as you realized this, knowing that you were drifting into dangerous territory. Developing a fascination — you couldn’t admit to another word yet — with Alastor wasn’t smart for a lot of reasons. He owned you, for starters. Not that you’d have ever been on even ground with someone of his status, but knowing you were literally at his beck and call… It was hard grappling with that. 

Your grandmother had been such a terror, the expectations she had of you impossible to obtain. Whether she blamed you for your mother’s death or if she would have treated you the way she did regardless was something you’d never know. But you thought you were done being pushed around and forced into boxes you didn’t fit when you went through with your plan to murder her. Turned a new leaf, as they say. 

Yet here you were, with not even a little bit of resentment towards your keeper. He annoyed you with his antics, sure, but you found yourself to be more fond of him than you had expected to be. Hell, you even took extra care making his bed every day despite knowing he didn’t sleep in it — it would’ve done no good to have him catching on that you knew he was just messing up the sheets. You were surprisingly reluctant to put his bed back in order this morning, wanting to preserve its state for as long as you could, burning the image of it to your memory. Even though they were still relatively neat, the slept-in sheets were a peek behind the curtain; another facet of him for you to collect.

The seemingly ever-present lump in your throat creeped up again, sending a tingling jolt through your body at this thought. Fondness, fascination. It had been a very long time since you had attached words like these to someone, and even then it wasn’t something you felt very often applied to anything past friendship. What little friends you had, anyway, preferring a small circle over a plethora.

You had experienced some romance in your life, but nothing longstanding. Flings might be a better word, comprised mostly of the usual dinner and a movie followed by some backseat fumbling. Living with your grandmother didn’t exactly present the option of bringing someone back to your room. And it was fun while it lasted but the payoff had never felt worth it in the end. You were more grateful for the distraction it provided from home than anything else. A lot of the time it just felt like another personality to juggle that you simply hadn’t the energy for.

But was this really something you were beginning to feel towards the Radio Demon? Or were you merely clinging to the twisted sense of stability he represented? Wanting to struggle against him to maintain as much autonomy as you could, or surrender? 

The memory of how Alastor had held your face in his hand surfaced then. How his eyes had been heavy with a desire you couldn’t pinpoint, the way your skin burned under the pad of his thumb. How, somewhere under the fear and exhaustion, you had been thrilled watching him taste the blood off your face. Your chest was tight again, breath shallow as your fingertips ghosted over that spot on your cheek.

Fuck.

You wanted to rip your hair out, the desire to run after him growing stronger with every step you saw him taking towards the city battling against your own self-worth. You wouldn’t go after him of course, not only because it would be pathetic but you knew he would be disappointed and quite possibly repulsed if you did. Neither were things you wished to be associated with in his opinion of you or yourself. Though in this moment, all you could feel in regard to yourself was disgrace. 

If someone had told you any of this a week ago, you would’ve balked at the idea. Actually wanting to please and follow Alastor around like a well-trained dog? Until quite recently you had looked forward to any time you could finally spend alone, but here you were, apparently counting the seconds until he returned home. 

Get a fucking grip, you scolded yourself, inhaling deeply through your nose as you forced yourself to make your way back upstairs to change clothes.

Group activities would be starting in an hour, and it wouldn’t do any good to be fretting over whatever Alastor was up to. Above your pay grade, remember? Remembering what a snide bitch he could be soothed you, the irritation you felt towards his words from earlier reassuring. Though your meaning couldn’t be more different from his, you wanted to believe that you weren’t totally hopeless. The erratic heartbeat under your ribcage begged to differ.

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Alastor never imagined that he’d be sick of heading to Cannibal Town, but there was a first time for everything. It was a novelty he might have actually appreciated under different circumstances. Valentino aside, his days were beginning to feel a bit too repetitive for his liking. Perhaps this meeting could end up being a blessing in disguise, a way for him to defuse some of the restlessness he was feeling.

He had to admit, your absence was… noticeable. Not that you could ever take its place, but having the option to take your arm had been a nice substitute for his microphone when his hand was feeling empty. As if to taunt him, his fist clenched with a nervous twitch, reminding him there was nothing to do with it other than keep it behind his back. Irksome.

The way you lingered around him before his departure hadn’t gone unnoticed, either, something he was unsure you wanted him to know or not. Though there was nothing you could really hide from him, not anymore. Alastor was now very in tune with the way your scent changed based on how you were feeling. It had been particularly strong and floral today, to the point where it still burned his nostrils with a pleasant ache. A keepsake, of sorts. How generous.

Even without that, it was obvious you had wanted to join him on this excursion. There was a sincerity in your ever-pouty face that was actually quite endearing. Still not a fan of frowns, Alastor was beginning to understand that it was your mask, intentional or otherwise, just as the smile was his. His original goal to strip it from you would probably never come to fruition with this revelation and he sighed, though not from disappointment. It was nice to be kept on one’s toes, after all, and he had already made the decision to find new ways to provoke you.

That’s not to say that he didn’t still wish to see what was hiding underneath that gray cloud you took shelter under. The few breakthroughs he’d glimpsed so far had been delightful. Getting you to murder someone wouldn’t work… though that wasn’t off the table. He’d just prefer you to want it; force wasn’t a measure he was willing to take in that regard, there was no satisfaction to be found in it that way. And so by extension, was getting you to indulge in a new eating habit. He hadn’t given up on that, either; he wasn’t lying when he said he thought you’d enjoy it under the right circumstance. 

Something came to mind and passed as quickly as it appeared, shocking him despite coming from some recess of his own imagination. The taste of blood was on his tongue from where he bit the inside of his own lip, and he relished the coppery tang, delight coating him thick as honey as he tentatively explored the thought. His ears twitched low as his horns grew just the smallest bit and he cleared his throat to calm down. Alastor wasn’t one to just lose his composure on the sidewalk.

Perhaps, he thought to himself, though with some hesitance. Alastor was always taken by surprise whenever his mind conjured up anything he considered to be salacious. But this sudden inspiration fell under same qualifications as his previous idea, if not under an even stricter sense. That was something you definitively needed to want, being it was something he very, very rarely desired to give. 

And what was it about you that made him want to? Clearly, some small part of him did. Had it just been too long and you happened to be an option now that this feeling was rearing its ugly head again? No. Alastor was too… picky to just choose someone out of convenience. He was unashamed to admit he had standards when it came to this. In fact, he felt the real issue at hand was that too many sinners didn’t, fucking anything that breathed with abandon.

His pulse jumped at the word: fucking. Was that even what he wanted? It would be enough just to have you taste him, bite into the flesh of his wrist and lap away at the blood that eagerly pooled to the surface. If you earned it, of course. As mentioned, his body wasn’t something he offered up on a whim to just anyone. But the thought of you enjoying it, unraveling at the feeling he hoped to inspire in you, your sullen face relaxed in the throes of pleasure in the taboo. His mind was racing now, running away with the fantasy as it so often did in these uncommon moments. 

What sounds could he illicit from you? He nearly bit through his tongue, thinking on the satisfaction it would bring to hear your voice, normally tinged with some level of sass, pleading and heady in his ears. How would you taste in his mouth — clean and tart, rich and sweet? What would you smell like, blooming under the touch of his mouth and hands? 

It wasn’t prudent of him to get swept up in this daydream, knowing the caveat to any of it being your willingness to partake. And he’d sooner face Adam’s axe again than ask, at least not without the inclination of acquiescence, which at this point was unknown to him. Uncharted waters.

Alastor hadn’t noticed that there was a sizable diameter of empty space between him and any other demon who happened to be walking by; rightfully threatened by the hungry look in his eyes, the tautness of his fanged smile, and the static that was crackling in the air around him as he approached the dry cleaners.

Thankfully he still had a bit of time to kill before Valentino arrived, needing every second he could get to center himself before their meeting. Were it not for his gloves, his clawed fingers would’ve easily punctured the soft skin of his palms, he was so wound up. But it was invigorating, this little idea of his, already feeling the ache ebb away as he shelved it for safe keeping. Only time would tell when he could dust it off.

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The afternoon had actually been… fun.

It had been a long time since you had experienced that, feeling a little ridiculous now as you lounged on your bed, thinking back on how nervous you had been to be roped into the daily activity with everyone. Charlie had obviously lead the charge, but the whole group had made you feel very welcome. Niffty had even sat next to you the entire time, her approval something you were unaware you were even wanting but now grateful to have. She was actually really charming.

Since it was your first time, it was mostly story-telling and introductions for your sake. It was clear they were a tight-knit bunch, and you found yourself hoping to find a place in their little circle. That seemed to be your theme for the day; seeing where you stand, fitting in. But it felt nice to open up, divulging bits and pieces of yourself to your housemates. You hadn’t realized how much you missed being part of a group, gossiping and sharing anecdotes. 

You told them about the accounting job you had, well-paying but boring all the same, which you didn’t think you minded at the time. Looking back, it really was just for a paycheck. There was no passion in your heart for it, and it was downright mayhem during tax season. Vaggie joked that she would be keeping this in mind when the need arose for bookkeeping, with you quipping back about cruel and unusual punishment.

A knock at the door interrupted your reverie, and you got up to answer it, opening your door to Alastor’s smiling face. The brief moment of butterflies you felt faded when you noticed the tired look in his eyes. You weren’t sure what mood you were expecting him to come back in, but you knew he had something on his mind. Beyond fetching you to perform chores — which he rarely did anyway, preferring that you came to him — what else would he stop by your room for than to deliver some kind of news?

He swept over you, no doubt picking your outfit apart all the way down to your bare feet. You were well aware that the cardigan and slip dress didn’t exactly fit into his definition of put together. Frankly, you were surprised Alastor didn’t force you to wear a corset under your uniform, a complaint you wisely kept to yourself for fear of giving him ideas. But for this, you couldn’t bring yourself to care, relishing the sparse opportunities you had to be in your own comfortable clothes; the v-shaped neckline of the dress allowing your poor décolletage to get some much-needed air. Besides, what could he really say? You were technically off the clock.

“May I come in?” he asked with a jarring sobriety, the absence of his radio filter giving you a chill. This wouldn’t be like the tête-à-tête you had this morning on the balcony. 

You simply moved out of the way, giving him the space to enter your room before closing the door behind you, keeping your attention on him as he stood with his back to you. Alastor’s shoulders moved as he took a breath, his expression concealed as his head fell back, looking to the ceiling as he exhaled.

He maintained this position as he spoke. “I’m afraid I must ask something of you, Sylvie. It won’t be dangerous, but it won’t be pleasant, either.”

There it was again, the illusion of choice. Why did he keep presenting things to you this way when he didn’t need to? Not that it upset you, it was a polite gesture after all, but well… He beckoned, you came running. Was it smart to be so willing to do his bidding? No. But after Angel talked a little about the way Valentino treats him — which he seemed to handle with a bravery you could only hope to have a portion of — you knew there was a level of safety that came with belonging to Alastor. Certain lines he simply wouldn’t cross out of duty to himself, resulting in a strange benevolence for you.

“What is it?” You were surprised at the calm in your voice. 

Alastor seemed to be too, his ear flicking at the sound before finally turning to look at you. The soft expression on his face sent blood rushing to your cheeks. You could almost mistake it for pride. Toward you. A burden you weren’t prepared to handle, apparently. A small sigh escaped him as he closed the gap between you and he absently picked at the shoulder of your cardigan, pinching the soft fabric in his fingers as he worked through what he was going to say next. For your part, you just tried to keep your breathing even and your hands to yourself. 

He released you, smirking without his usual venom but still with that strained look in his eye. The fraction of instinct you had that still worked told you that this wasn’t good, but you had a hard time letting that sink in the way it should, too distracted by the charge in the air between you.

“I met with Valentino today,” he said quietly, giving you a small, knowing smile as your brows knit together in concern. “He wants to meet you, in two days. As of right now that’s all it is but he’s reserved the right to make a final decision on what he wants once he speaks with you,” he practically choked on the words, anger nipping at the edge of his voice as he continued, “And there were certain… concessions that had to be made, given the circumstances. Proud as I am at what you did, I can also appreciate certain aspects of Valentino wanting reparation.”

You felt like a toddler being scolded for acting up in front of company, unable to stop yourself from looking away from him, embarrassment blending into your fear. He wasn’t wrong though, and you always had a feeling you would need to make up for what you did to Donny somehow. Meeting with Valentino was the least you could do, guilt already eating away at you for the position you had put Alastor in. No wonder he had been so upset last night…

“Will you be with me, at least?”

The question was out before you could stop it, the blush on your cheeks threatening to melt your face it was so hot with shame. Alastor huffed a laugh, the mischief returning to his eyes in a way that made you feel dizzy. 

“I’m afraid I don’t elaborate on stupid questions.”

Maybe it was the low timbre of his voice, or the familiarity of his smug grin when he knew he had denied you something. But the irritation you typically felt when he spoke to you this way was nowhere to be found, your brain practically empty with the exception of one thing. 

I’m so… fucked.

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tag list: @fairyv-ice, @wat4r, @midorichoco, @raynerrold, @krak-jj, @tremendoushearttaco

[freemansgirl]

showdown.

pairing: amber freeman x fem reader

genre: smut

summary: reader tries to make amber jealous after an argument as a way to get back at her but amber has her own ways to get back at reader

words: 3.2k

warnings: unhealthy on and off toxic relationship mentioned, dom!amber, g!p! amber (amber has a dick, so if you dont like it, dont read), daddy kink, degrading kink, bratty reader, blowjob, facefucking, dacryphilia, deep throating

hot on your heels, amber freeman searched everywhere for you at this party.

she was growing angrier and angrier because she couldn't find you anywhere she went. she started asking her friends have they seen any sign of you. tara? “no, haven’t seen her.” wes? “i last saw her on the dance floor, dancing on someone.”

at the sound of that, oh she immediately gritted her teeth and that’s when anger was seeping into her face. "She—what, now?" amber replied, holding two drinks in her hands—one for her and one for you—as her eyes pierced deeply into wes’s. the platinum blonde haired boy took notice of how amber’s pale hands begin to clench around the cups. she was began to turn on her heels to go to where the dance floor was, which was in the center of the living room until wes grabbed her wrist. knowing how scary amber can get when she’s mad, he immediately tried to calm her down, “amber, wait! i don’t know if she’s-“

however, his persuasion and grip on the raven haired girl’s wrist was not enough to stop her to go into the crowd. as soon as he grabbed her wrist, she yanked it away from him and said, "save it, wes." with a hand up to his face and started to walk away from the conversation. wes stood there, with his mouth shut from the sentence he originally was forming. he was going to warn your girlfriend that you may not still be there, he’s just going off the LAST time he saw you. regardless, he wasn’t wrong though, because you were currently out dancing on the floor with some girl.

you were currently tipsy off your ass and just wanted to have some fun to forget all of the drama and arguing that started between you and your girlfriend. the argument started as the two of you were getting ready for this party at her house, then it dragged on even more into the car. the argument was centered around the fact that you were spending too much time with your friends and not her, which caused lots of tension between you two. you guys were like that toxic but clingy on and off couple that everyone knew at school that would argue over the dumbest things but get right back together soon. even you and amber’s main friend group were so sick of you two. at this point, you honestly had enough of her jealous yet possessive antics, and could care less if the two of you broke up for good this time…. or so you thought.

that was a lie and you knew that. amber was unnecessarily overbearing and possessive, but there was just something about her that made you love her too much to even consider leaving her. she was irresistible and you found yourself always running back to her, which was the issue. right now, because things are tense, you wanted to let loose and take your mind to other places…. and other people too. this is how all of this started. when you two arrived at the party, a friend talked to her and caught her off surprise, so you had left to pursue other interests. you wanted a distraction and this was the way of getting it. the only thing that will make amber even more enraged than she already is, after seeing how she treated you throughout the trip to this party, you wanted to get even with her by making her jealous, which also made you feel attracted to her since you enjoyed it when she was jealous of you.

you had already kissed what felt like, 7 girls, for shits and giggles. now, you were on your 8th girl as you began to grind your hips against hers, getting lost in the beat of the music and enjoying yourself. you can feel the girl roaming her hands all over your body as you began to bite your lip to not let out any type of noises. in the direction across from you, there was amber steadily searching for you and she did not look very happy as you can tell from her body language. she was shoving and telling people “excuse me”’s just so she can find you.

a part of you was scared but also turned on by how she angry she is, everything is coming into play now. you can’t wait to see how she is going to react to this. you begin to smirk while turning around pulling the girl’s hand to go else where. you could feel her complaining about how you ruined the mood followed behind a “why’d you stop dancing?” sentence which causes you to roll your eyes as she was slowly tuning out in your ears. you began to search for a spot, your (eye color) eyes scanning until you found a spot where there are lots of people at for you to blend in at. the two of you head over to the kitchen, you have your hands all over each other.

back to amber, as soon as she was able to reach the center of the big crowd in the living room area, she saw absolutely nothing. she was too late is what she had realized. wes had tried to warn her but she didn’t listen… this is what she gets. she begins to push through the crowd all over again after she worked so hard to get this spot of the party in the first place. next option to ask would be chad and liv, but she scratched that off of her bucket list when she was face to face with the couple. she rolled her eyes in disgust, not even wanting to bother with them as they were getting it on the couch. she now began to search for mindy, who was also kissing a girl on the couch. no need to bother with that either. it’s time like this where amber wished that her friends could be a little useful. nether less, this wasn’t going to stop her, she was going to find you, with or without help.

as amber is searching once again, you are currently having a heated makeout session with the girl from the dance flor. you start to kiss her first, your eyes opening to side eye if you see amber coming. nothing yet. you felt an immediate grip on your thighs, as you let out a soft gasp and now you feel your mouth being explore with a lot of tongue. the makeout session starts to feel like forever, you feel yourself being enjoyed by all of this until you hear a lot of commotion from people complaining and muttering underneath their breaths, basically commotion coming from the left of you. you start to ignore it once you feel a harsh tug at your arm, the force pulling you back a bit.

before, you can even exclaim and yell at the person to see who did this while you were in the middle of something, it was …amber. oh, great, here comes the showdown. boy, did she looked PISSED, she knew she was going to have some words with you in a second. she started off shouting, gesturing with one finger before continuing, "I get distracted for one SECOND, and you're off kissing another girl?!” she exclaimed, her eyes filled with a great deal of rage as she regarded you. she began to grab your hand and look to the girl that you were making out with, the girl looked frustrated but backed off because she realized the situation she was in. amber could care less if the girl knew her place, she was upset at the fact the girl was kissing on YOU, her girlfriend. “oh, and if you haven’t noticed, i’m her girlfriend.” she started to toss both of her drinks on the girl you were making out with while she spoke in a matter-of-fact manner.

the crowd circling the whole situation began to let out dramatic “ooos” and gasps, clearly instigating what just happened. the girl was drenched in juice, too stunned to speak so she could not even form a sentence to say while amber grabbed your hand and walked away with you next to her. you started to try to tell her to slow down as you can barely keep up with her in this party, especially with how crowded it was. when amber is angry, she acts so stubborn and doesn’t bother listening to you. she knew she shouldn’t have let you wear that skimpy dress out to the party, if she knew you were going to behave like this.

“that was so unnecessary! you’re causing a scene!” you protest to her, playing dumb about what just happened, but deep down you didn’t care that the girl got drinks thrown on her. you and amber were a pretty big deal at school, the whole school practically knew you two were together so the girl clearly knew what she was doing. at the sound of your protests, amber was still ignoring you and not caring. you were about to open your mouth again, but she pulled you into a bathroom. your girlfriend abruptly slammed the door extremely loud, causing you to put your hands near your ears at the loud noise.

“don’t slam the door so loud!” you whined at her, your eyes getting big and sad like a puppy dog, the disdain for the slam showing in your face. your girlfriend was in one of her moods, not trying to deal with any small talk, especially that she took notice that you were drunk, but not THAT drunk as you can still function and respond to her. she pinned you against the door causing you to be taken back by this. you gasped as a blush spread against your cheeks, at how close she was to you. she leaned in your face, there was a lot of rage showing inside of her eyes, literally staring into you.

“so care to explain what that was back there, (your name)?” she said, getting right to chase, zero time for bullshit. god, it was so hard to focus on her when she was mad. it was so scary that it was hot sometimes. “what is there to explain, amber? you saw it with your own two eyes, now i appreciate it if you’d let me go now. i don’t want to talk to you.”

another lie was told out of your mouth because you did want to see her, but you’re playing hard to get. you tried to fight out of her grasp at how hard her grip was on you but you realize you’re actually in deep shit. when you were making out with all of these girls and dancing on them, you may have felt you were in big trouble, but amber is pinning you to the wall and her face is right next to yours. there is literally no way you can get out of this one, yeah, there’s no escaping this one. “so you can go talk to other girls, but not me, your actual girlfriend?” amber fumed, her voice raising a bit louder than usual, she was getting angrier.

“yeah, i can, because you know why?” you speak mid sentence, with a mischievous glint inside of your (eye color) eyes while you smirk as your girlfriend raises your eyebrow to see what you’re getting at, “those girls actually show me what a good time is unlike you, who always wants to be in control and limit who i can and can’t talk to…” you replied back to her, your slurring voice was now sounded confident and coherent for amber to understand. your voice had a really sassy tone to it, the smirk on your lips increasing more.

the love of your life began to catch on… oh. so, that’s the game you were playing. you were trying to make her jealous and it was working. she wasn’t even in the mood for your playfulness behavior, it was actually ticking her off more. that attitude, that damn carefree attitude, made her want to fuck it out of you to show you who’s really running the relationship. “oh, really now? i’ll show you what a good time is.” amber was amused now, ready to play along with this whole game you started.

“baby, it’s about time, you finally gave in and cut the anger bullshit out. with those eyes and the way you have me pinned to this wall, you’ve been dying to fuck me, cmon.” you teased, letting out a playful snicker at the sight of her face. “and oh my god, are you seriously hard, right now? you fell right into my plan.”

it was true, your girlfriend’s bulge was sticking up in her pants and it caught your eye quickly. why should she bother with all of the tension, when she can just make up to you with how she was acting in the car? this is all just a lover’s quarrel after all. after you kept making fun of your girlfriend and acting like it was a joke (which it was), her patience with you ran thin.

since you wanted to treat things like a joke, things won’t be so funny once you’re on all fours for her dick, begging to be let up. amber realized she had to teach you a lesson, a lesson that would punish you so bad that’d you never want to cross her again. she pushed your head down to her pants roughly. you quickly started working on her as you pushed her zipper down and there were her black boxers. it was sitting right in front of you, begging to be pulled down. “since you want to act like a fucking whore tonight, you’ll be treated like one.” she declared, grabbing your neck closer to her boxers, “now pull my boxers off.”

god, she looks so good when she’s half dressed. she let go of your neck so you can quickly get to work. you pulled down the boxers all the way to her ankles and her cock sprung out. you could feel your cheeks have blush all over them, as her hard cock literally right in front of your face. you started to give little small, kitten licks all over the dick, going slow and easy on her which you can hear a huff from her mouth. your girlfriend wasn’t happy with that. “faster, (your name). let’s get to it.” she demanded, her hand grabbing your head as she slammed it on her dick, cause you to whimper in a muffled tone. she started to push your head onto you, making your head bob up and down all over her dick.

you can feel your eyes getting watery, struggling to breathe from how you feel so suffocated around her dick. in order to grab onto something for support, you grabbed your hands onto your girlfriend’s pale thighs. “you can grab onto my thighs all you want, (your name) but that isn’t going to help you.”she taunted you, as she could see your nails were digging so deep into her thighs, that it could leave some scratch marks on there. yes, it was hurting amber but it didn’t even bother her because there were better things happening right now. your eyes were look up to your girlfriend’s pleading, your big eyes watering as you can feel your tears about to come out.

at the sight of this, she was definitely smirking and probably wasn’t going to shut up about this for the rest of the night. “look at you, looking so pretty and ruined all over daddy’s dick.” she breathed out in a rushed tone of voice, taking in so much pleasure while continuing to observe you. you wanting to talk such a big game to her was like playing with fire. she knew how to get you on your knees (quite literally) and get you right where she wants you. amber was letting out really quiet, low groans as she was running her hands all over your hair. she enjoyed seeing you like this, getting all hot and bothered to seeing you crying because of her length was such an exciting feeling for her. it truly made her feel on top of the world, knowing that she had a lot of control over you.

she can feel herself getting so close as she was letting out a breathily sigh. “fuck, you look so good taking all of me like the slut that you are.” she smirked more as she continued face fucking you onto her dick, holding back a laugh at how pathetic you looked. you were talking all of that shit just for you to be struggling trying to take it especially with how much pressure she held onto your head. instead of looking hot while giving her an attitude, why not look even hotter while sucking her off? she was groaning a lot and could feel her eyes rolling back at all of the tension and your tongue circling all over her. you could tell that she was about to be close with all of these noises she kept making. you started to get off of her, while taking your hands off of her thighs to look up at her.

god, you were such a mess, clear tears were streaming down your face, ruining the pretty mascara you wore for the party. you were particularly out of breath from all of the intense sucking you just did. if you thought the big globs of mascara staining your face was enough, just look at your hair being out of place, and lastly your lip gloss being smudged due to giving her a blowjob. to clean your mess up, you licked up the lip gloss you left all over her, the lip gloss tasting like candy made it even better. once you get it all, you immediately pulled back with lots of drool connecting from her dick to your lips. “clean your drool up, so you don’t look like such a slut than you already are.” the pale-skinned girl spoke as you immediately wiped it up with your hand.

now you can see your girlfriend jerking off as she began to slowly decorate your face with the cum that was coming out. once it was all gone, she began to pull her boxers up from her ankles and back to her private area then her pants following suit. you could feel yourself gasping all of this, the cum over your face. out of embarrassment and how flustered you felt, you immediately got up to turn on the sink in the bathroom.

while you’re in the mirror wiping off the mess all over your face, you can see your girlfriend in the view of the mirror as she walked behind you. “you look better like this, and not when you’re being such a brat.” she teased, lifting up the hem of your dress and giving your bare ass a nice smack for the work you did earlier. you can feel yourself blushing furiously at the smack, not saying a word back. after this whole fiasco, you definitely knew not to go around trying to make her jealous again after the humiliation you felt seeing your cum stained face in the mirror before wiping it off with soap and water.

“c’mon, let’s go and leave this shit party, this is the most fun i had tonight here.”

[bomber-grl]

Can you do prompt 27? brushing strands of hair away with Azula x fem!princess reader?

prompt #23: brushing strands of hair away

Fire Lord Ozai had called Azula to discuss some matters concerning what you could only assume was Zuko and the avatar.

In the meanwhile you headed your way to Azulas chambers to see how she was doing.

You knew how The Fire Lord could be even with his own daughter and knew she’d be in need of comfort.

And, because you’re both a princess and Azulas childhood friend you’d always be treated with the upmost respect.

You soon reached the front of Azulas door and gave a few short knocks. The knocks echoed throughout the hall and when no one answered you let yourself in.

You closed the door behind you and the obvious wreck in Azulas room was more telling than any words would ever be.

You sat down besides her on her bed “Princess Azula? I hope I’m not intruding-“

“There’s no need to be so formal” whether or not Azula was still putting up a hard front atleast you knew it’d be ok to finally speak freely.

She was beautiful. She was strong and you saw her in a way no one else has.

“Azula..” you leant over to get a better view of her and once you did , you took the loose pieces of hair in front of her face and brushed them away, tucking them behind her ear.

She didn’t say anything, the sound of breathing was the only sound in her room until she spoke up.

“Why don’t you leave? It’s not like my father sees me as any better than zuzu.”

Wow this was so out of character. She must be under a lot of stress- well not exactly, annoyance and spite was still abundantly clear.

“Azula..” this time you cupped her cheek her brought her face to look at you.

She seemed so ticked off, and luckily you were the only person who seemed to be able to see her this vulnerable.

Although it was mostly just her being pissed off.

Not only were you her friend, but you were dating. No one else knew but she needed you.

“Hey look at me, how about we just relax for now, ok?” Before she could object you spoke calmly “we’re both a bit stressed and I know things need to be done, but let’s relax”

If you were anyone else you would’ve gotten bitch slapped and thrown in prison.

But you were you, the only person Azula could stand to tolerate and even like.

“This time only.” Was her response before you both got ready and laid on her bed.

You’d have to be sneaky and leave when everyone else was asleep and hopefully not get caught.

But, atleast now she seems more stable and less likely to stab someone for fun.

It was easy to forget how she was, she looked so peaceful as she slept.

Before you fell asleep, you swept away some loose hairs from her face, kissed her cheek lightly then closed your eyes to rest for the night.

I guess Azulas willingness to fall asleep near you was a testament to her trust. Well regardless it was time for some shut eye.

A/n: sorry if this was so ooc I’ve never imagined what Azula having an S/o would be like and I feel like she’d have to be obsessed with you or else it wouldn’t work 😭

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Hi! Could I request full HCs for MC getting in trouble/arrested for something they didn't do, but nobody believes them? Eventually they're proven innocent but maybe even the M6 might have a little flicker of doubt for a moment?

The Arcana HCs: MC gets falsely arrested

Julian

If you've ever worried that he can't relate to you in the past, he certainly can now! He's been in handcuffs plenty of times -

On a more serious note, he's not giving up on you for a second. Every moment that he's allowed to be by your side, he's there, and he's taking the best care of you that he possibly can

He doesn't doubt you for a second (he remembers what it was like) but he does doubt himself

What if this is secretly his fault? What if he did something he doesn't remember doing, and you got mistaken for him? What if he made someone angry so they framed you to get back at him?

Will suggest lying to take your place multiple times and might actually try it if you and Portia don't stop him

Might also suggest actually committing some kind of legal infraction of his own so he can at least join you in there

So relieved when you're acquitted that it's all he can talk about to everyone he meets for the next two months. Rubs it in the face of every friend who ever doubted you

Asra

They're annoyed, more than anything. And shocked. But mostly annoyed

Not at you, of course! No, he's annoyed at the fact that you're being confined somewhere that he can't be for you and that you're being treated so poorly

When you tell them the charges against you aren't true, they believe you completely, but truthfully they're less concerned with your innocence and more concerned with your wellbeing

Can and will attempt to break you out regardless

Would much rather blip you out of where you're being held and start a completely new life from scratch somewhere else then let the process drag on and on, watching you be silenced and doubted

Never misses a single visit

Never lets you feel like things are out of control. As long as you want to subject yourself to this, it's your decision, and as soon as you choose otherwise, say the word and you're both out

Immeasurably proud of you when you stick it out and are acquitted

Nadia

Furious. Absolutely furious. Seething with rage

A person of your character? Who holds the trust of the Countess herself and the admiration of the city?? Accused so recklessly???

Absolutely unacceptable

That said, she remains completely calm on the outside and allows things to proceed. She's been a fierce advocate of establishing a new, effective justice system, and she intends to see this through

Does her best not to extend her influence far enough to count as making the process unfair, but still ensures she gets to visit you at least once a day

There is a point as the evidence is assembled that she does find herself wondering, for a brief moment, if you really are guilty. If you forgot, if there were extenuating circumstances you can't tell her

And she hates herself for it as soon as she sees your face again

So smug when you're exonerated that the people who argued against you nearly make a run for the hills

Will make a point of publicly proclaiming your innocence after

Muriel

Triggered. Triggered. So. Very. Triggered

Hadn't heard anything about the incident itself until you were arrested, so he didn't know what to think until you told him you were innocent. Once you did, though, he believed you

He knows when someone's lying and when someone's telling the truth, and he needs to make sure that others can see your honesty

He also knows that he's not the person best suited to publicly helping you. Regardless of his circumstances, he has his own history in the cells that still make his stomach turn to walk past

He'll talk to Asra. He'll talk to Nadia. He'll put himself through hours of conversation with them and whoever else is determined to exonerate you, supplying every detail he has

And he'll brave the personal hell of seeing you live out the daily misery of his worst memories, behind the same bars, staring at the same stone walls, to be with you as the hours drag by

Beyond relieved when you (and he by extension) are freed and he can hide away in the woods with you to recover

Portia

She actually assumed the charges were true until you told her otherwise - you're her partner in crime for life, she's just wondering what pieces are missing to justify you and why she wasn't included

Until you tell her you're innocent, and she's furious

There is NO WAY you're getting falsely imprisoned on her watch. She will march to hell and back and drag whoever she needs to with her to get you out

Pushes nonstop both to have you acquitted and to sway public opinion about you. It feels like a hopeless task at first, but she doesn't give up and she has enough friends to pull it off

Might miss a visit or two, but never goes longer than a day without stopping to see you and always smuggles treats and comforts past the guards for you no matter how often you tell her not to

Actually manages to stage an impressive protest in your favor the day the decision is made

Takes you home and dotes on you nonstop afterwards ... and then victory marches you all around town to thank the helpful friends

Lucio

He tries to help you. He really, really does

He argues with the guards, screams at the people who sent for you to be arrested, and makes the racket of a lifetime

Which, unfortunately, only makes things worse

(Neither does him admitting to all of his own criminal history, in his attempt to argue that if he got forgiveness then you should too)

He's relieved when you tell him you didn't do it, and he clings to that belief like his life depends on it. You're the good thing in his life. Nobody takes away or denies him that good thing

All that pent up frustration needs an outlet of some kind, and that results in him hounding the assigned investigators instead into letting him help them

And help them he does - not with the books and papers, but with long nights and rabbit trails until the true culprit is found

One can imagine how proud he was to drag them by the collar to where you were, shaking the confession out of them and leaving with you. He deserves so many kisses and cookies for this -

[ausukams]

A defence of Ace Culprit (DRDT)

I've seen some theorising that Ace will turn out to not be the culprit, which I don't agree with. To be clear, I think theorising is cool and fun regardless of whether or not I agree. It's mostly agreed upon by the fandom that Ace is the culprit at this point, so none of this is uh, exactly revolutionary, but I want to write some points as to why I think Ace will still be the culprit next Friday.

Point 1: The Witch Trials of Ace Markey

One of the key points I've heard is that Ace is treated unfairly by the cast, particularly in the trial, and that they need to be narratively punished for that. I mostly disagree with this - I think there's some truth in the fact that the cast is dismissive of Ace, treats him like a joke, etc. But I don't think they're wrong to suspect him in the trial. They only do so late on, when the evidence points to him.

Veronika said he's more likely to be a killer in terms of personality, yeah - which is true, he does make more sense as a culprit than Eden in terms of their respective personalities - but in the same breath she asks Teruko if she has any actual evidence pointing to Ace. Even she, the creepy girl obsessed with psychoanalysis, isn't willing to rely on something so flimsy. If anything, personality is brought up more strongly as a defence of Ace - that he's too stupid to pull off a mildly complex murder trick. As Charles says, "Speculation on Ace's psychological state cannot be used as concrete evidence in this trial." The case against him isn't actually based on things like that.

The reason Ace is the culprit, as expressed by the cast, is pretty simple.

1 - The culprit had to know about Nico's murder trick, which requires being present as a prerequisite. Only Ace and Eden meet this criteria.

2 - The culprit knocked out Arei by some means for the murder.

3 - Unlike Nico, the culprit did not have access to turpentine, so it's likely they didn't use any tools for this murder.

4 - The culprit has enough physical strength to knock Arei unconscious with just their body.

5 - Ace has an athletic Ultimate Talent, and Eden is small and very weak.

6 - The culprit is Ace.

There are some additional reasons to suspect Ace is the culprit. For example, the Body Discovery Announcement. For Eden to be the culprit, someone would have to be hiding the fact they discovered the body. As David points out, this isn't impossible - but frankly, it is not at all likely that anyone would do something so stupid with their life on the line. David even admits he's saying things like that to manipulate Teruko, and I'm inclined to believe him there. Eden isn't exactly cleared by this evidence, but Ace absolutely makes more sense as a primary suspect.

Sure, he talks about how it's unfair people are attacking him instead of Eden, Nico or Teruko - but it's not like people think he's the culprit for no reason! Nico has an alibi, Eden doesn't make sense as the culprit... honestly Teruko would kind of make sense but he doesn't really push that angle and Teruko didn't really need to explain to everyone exactly why only she or Ace could be the culprit when they were so close to voting for David or whatever.

Teruko has a rant about how they don't need all the evidence to point to him as the culprit, which sounds kind of bad, but here's the dialogue leading up to it.

David: If everyone is convinced, that means we vote.

Ace: Shut your damn mouth! As if I'd listen to anything you say!

Ace: If I used water jugs to weigh down Arei, where would I have stored them, huh? You still haven't answered that!

Ace: Until you can explain that, I'm still not convinced! There are still so many damn holes in your theory! I won't rest until you answer that-

Teruko: SHUT UP, ACE!

Teruko is right, here. He could have stored water jugs anywhere. I mean, it's water - much less risky to move than your average crime scene evidence. Regardless of who the culprit is, it isn't really possible to deduce something like that. And it doesn't matter that Ace 'isn't convinced' - if he's the culprit, they don't need to convince him of his own guilt, that doesn't really make sense. In fact, he is implicitly admitting guilt in this dialogue, but we'll get to that.

Now, there's definitely some truth to the fact that the cast treated Ace poorly before the trial. Nico attempted to literally murder him, Veronika told him he would die, etc. But narratively, they get called out for it this episode, and probably will get called out again next episode. After talking about the trauma he received from the murder attempt, Nico apologises to Ace. I mean, it was barely audible, but at least Nico now acknowledges their wrongdoing to Ace (rather than just the rest of the cast, which is how I interpreted their earlier dialogue about it). J, who seems to be the mouthpiece for the more moral takes in this cast, makes the point that she and everyone else treated Ace too harshly and didn't stop to think about whether he might reach his breaking point. I expect that Nico will realise their actions led to Arei's death and will hopefully develop from that. I don't think it's narratively important for them to be wrong about Ace being the culprit here, after all this buildup, just to make a point that has already been made by the cast.

Part 2: Behavioural Analysis, or why Ace is definitely guilty

Ace makes it rather clear in the most recent episode that he is the culprit, or at least he thinks he is. Look at his reaction to the headband being brought up as evidence. "Gh-" and "Fuck" are not innocent responses to this being brought up. It does not come from someone who didn't already know the slingshot was used, especially not so quickly after it was pointed out.

Before Teruko's rant, he says "I won't rest until you answer that" which pretty clearly implies that, if this is answered, he will admit his guilt. "I'm still not convinced" is also not something you say if you're an innocent man being witch hunted with flimsy evidence, frankly.

His confession is extremely believable. I've seen parallels to David's confession, but that was obviously fake. He insists that he's innocent for a little while, makes a big show of "oh, fine. fucking fine" while getting a maniacal grin on his face, and then says "I killed Arei, is that what you all wanted to hear?" It's transparently spiteful, even coming from a skilled manipulator, and there are also hints that Teruko picks up on which make it rather obvious David wouldn't be the culprit. Does anyone really believe Ace is that much better of an actor than David, who acts as an entirely different person than he actually is for a living? His motive given is believable, he starts speaking with sincerity for the first time, he looks lost, confused and somewhat sympathetic. It is a natural conclusion of Ace's arc. I'd be extremely surprised if any of that was fake at all.

Additionally, Eden - the most popular alternative culprit - starts defending Ace of all people, pointing out why she thinks he wouldn't have done it. I think there is practically zero chance Eden does this if she is the culprit and is offered a final chance of escaping after a near-death scare that caused her to break down.

Part 3: The Strangulation

The most solid physical proof people have given for Ace's innocence is that both Teruko and Arturo didn't see any injuries other than a broken neck and injured wrist. In other words, there were no obvious bruises on the corpse. Does this disprove the idea that Arei could have been strangled unconscious?

I would argue no. Ace didn't strangle Arei to death, just until she fell unconscious. Therefore, it makes sense that it wouldn't leave visible marks on the skin.

According to the Crown Prosecution Service website, "Non-fatal strangulation and non-fatal suffocation often leaves minimal or no visible injury on the victim. The absence of evidence of injury is therefore not conclusive on the question of whether there is sufficient evidence to prosecute or not." (https://www.cps.gov.uk/legal-guidance/non-fatal-strangulation-or-non-fatal-suffocation)

In this case, the strangulation likely didn't leave a visible mark, and the cast wouldn't expect it to. That doesn't mean it didn't happen, and in the absence of evidence of some sort of tool being used, it makes sense to assume it was just done with the culprit's body.

Part 4: The Meta

I will start by saying the absence of a Scrum Debate is, in my view, by far the most convincing evidence that Ace might not be the culprit. Unfortunately, I can't see past all the other evidence that he did it, but I can definitely see why that would leave people suspicious. However, I do think it's possible that in this fangan, there won't be as much 'structure' to the trials and the games, for a few reasons. Unlike most Danganronpa games, the minigames were never meant to be played, and thus are more narrative devices than experiences in themselves. If there wasn't a need for a Scrum Debate, the writers/artists might not want to go to the work of creating one. The 'Select two' mechanic, which didn't feature in Chapter 1, is also evidence that the minigame mechanics may be non-standard here.

The closing argument followed by 'TRIAL CLOSED' is exactly the same thing that happened with Min in Chapter 1. In fact, the whole structure of this episode is extremely similar to that. Someone else being the culprit after all this would be an extreme rug-pull of a twist. If it was Chapter 3 or Chapter 5, I might believe it... But Chapter 2? I don't think most Danganronpa cases are extremely complex, including fangans, and that's a good thing. Cases like SDRA2 Trial 3 are special because they're so unlike other trials. If those trials became the norm, it would be seen as overly convoluted.

Speaking of which, DRDT has parallels to DR1 particularly in terms of the murder cases, right? If we look at DR1 again, the evidence against Mondo in Trial 2 was actually significantly weaker than the evidence they had against Ace in this trial. After all, they used physical evidence to conclude Ace was the killer. In DR1, the second trial ended with Mondo being convicted on two verbal slip-ups, one of which wasn't available before the trial, and no real physical evidence to conclusively deduce the culprit. So if people want to argue that there's not enough evidence for this murder case to be solved, I don't really agree. I think DRDTDev set this up fine, and was even more generous than the first canon game.

I think it's understandable people thought Eden was the culprit - I did too for a long while. She was a red herring, so she was written to be suspicious. An intentional red herring from the writer can be extremely difficult to tell apart from the writer giving evidence to the real culprit. I'm sure when she said things like "Teruko, wait!" before the BDA, that was intentionally written to make her look guilty. The 'select two culprits' mechanic all but confirmed that she was a red herring. I think her looking so suspicious made Teruko's trust scene with her all the more meaningful, though.

Conclusion

I think Ace definitely attempted murder against Arei, and definitely believes he's the killer. I also think being the culprit here would be a good conclusion for his character. There could be a small chance a mastermind interfered with the case and dealt the killing blow, but I don't think it's especially likely, and even if that is true I doubt we would find out until Chapter 6. I'm sorry, Ace stans, but I don't want there to be false hope. I'm looking forward to the bonus episodes for more content with Ace and Arei, which are both characters I enjoy a lot!

[onemustalwaysbecarefulofbooks]

RANT TIME

If I see one more person say that the reason Rhys seemed different and less likeable in ACOSF is because we’re seeing him from Nesta’s POV and not Feyre’s, I’m going to go feral.

I’m sorry, I know we find ways to blame Nesta for absolutely everything under the sun, but are we now also trying to claim that she is able to control Rhys’s words, decisions, and actions??? PLEASE BE SO FOR REAL. I do not dislike Rhys because Nesta thinks unfavorably of him and her mental commentary is somehow swaying me. I dislike him because of the things he DOES and SAYS. Nesta does not like Rhys and makes this clear to everyone. But for God’s actual sake…her opinion of him does not control his choices and actions. The story SJM wanted to tell was going to happen, regardless of who’s POV we see it from.

AND, as if that weren’t enough, there are PLENTY of scenes where he acts deplorable and the POV is Cassian’s, not Nesta’s!!! And as we all know, Cassian is so far up Rhys’s butt he can probably see out his mouth. So explain that one to me, please!

Now, does Rhys appear noticeably different in ACOSF than he does in previous books? Absolutely! I am in complete agreement that ACOMAF!Rhys would never handle Feyre’s pregnancy the way he does in this book (The conversation a lot of people are really not ready to have is that Tamlin would be the one to behave this way while Rhys would be the one who swoops in to let us all know how degrading, condescending, and chauvinistic his behavior was and that he would be the one to treat her with agency and respect and would never coddle her and lie to her about her health and her body because she was strong and she could take it).

(Tell me I’m wrong, I dare you!)

So, is Rhys different from how he is in previous books? Yes. But this is not because we are in the POV of someone who doesn’t like him. It’s because SJM’s handling of him is beyond bizarre, and at this point almost has me convinced he is her tool in some kind of social experiment she’s conducting on manipulation and brainwashing in literature. It’s as if she is testing to see how far she can push, how insufferable and hypocritical can she make him behave while still demanding through the narrative that we love and adore him. I used to swear this was not intentional on her part, that she really did think as highly of him as she appeared to, but his behavior as of late has gotten so absurd, it’s honestly beginning to make me wonder if some of this IS intentional and is part of a bigger process. I can only hope that it is.

So no, Rhys does not seem different and less likeable simply because we are seeing him through Nesta’s eyes. He seems different and less likeable because he IS different and less likeable, and a hypocrite to boot. No matter who’s POV we are seeing it from, he does and says insufferable and hypocritical things all throughout the story. But the cult following that this man has is unmatched, and so many people are literally incapable of admitting they feel any kind of distaste for him or that he may have done something wrong. So instead the response becomes “He just seems that way because we’re in Nesta’s POV and Nesta doesn’t like him.”….as if being in Nesta’s head creates some kind of opitical illusion where Rhys’s behavior isn’t real. Whatever makes you feel better, I guess!!

[willows-writings]

heya!! Hope you're doing alright!! was wondering since your requests are open and I saw you wrote for the LOV from MHA if you would write some headcanons for Himiko Toga x GN reader?

specifically where reader is patching Himiko up after she got into a nasty fight with some heros and or the vise versa? ^^’ please and thank you. And and fluff would be preferred

No pressure to write for this at all but regardless, I hope you have an amazing day/night ^^

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

a/n: you're so sweet and I love this rq and I love Toga so this is perfect! I'm going to make reader a member of the LOV for this but feel free to ignore that if you wish!

cw: blood and injuries (nothing major!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

The entire League have just gotten back to the base after a nasty run in with some Pro-heros.

The funny part was you weren't even looking for trouble this time, after receiving too many complaints from the rest of the group Mr Compress had insisted the whole league must come grocery shopping with him next time to ensure everything was bought.

Of course this happened to be the same grocery store Snipe shopped at and once he saw through your groups flimsy disguises he called for backup

After a quick fight where the league mainly focused on getting the hell out of there you all collapsed back at the base

Quickly growing tired of Shigaraki's angry ranting you dragged Toga into your shared room for some peace

Toga was still on a high from the fight and as you sat on the bed listening to her ranting you noticed a stain on the side of her sweater

"Himiko wait" you stood up a grabbed her arm "This is blood"

She pauses "Ooooo it is! How pretty!!"

"It is someone elses or yours?"

"Hmmm lets see" she pulls up the edge of her sweater to reveal a shallow gun shot wound, but it still bled heavily

You gasp, you had expected something but it was a bit worse than expected

"This must be from Snipe. The bullet didn't hit you but it definitely grazed you badly, come on I'll help treat this in the bathroom."

"y/nnnnn can't we just let it go? The color is so pretty..."

Once you have her in the bathroom sitting without her sweater you clean the blood away carefully with a first aid kit

Toga hums and continues to talk about the fight happily till you touch the wound with disinfectant

She lets out a hiss as the disinfectant touchs the injury "This is the not fun part of getting hurt"

"Yes but the most necessary" you reply as you finish cleaning and bandaging her cut

Taking a step back to make sure you bandaged it right you notice other small cuts and forming bruises across her body.

"I have to clean all of these too Himiko" you sigh as you move the disinfectant towards her

"How come cuts that bleed less hurt more" she pouts as you clean

After cleaning the cuts on her body you move to tend to the ones on her face but she squirms and complains

"Himiko please just hold still for two minutes, I know it hurts I swear I'll make it up to you."

Like it's the magic words she stops moving but you still gently take her face in one hand so you can direct her

Once done you pat her cheek "All done!" you turn to put away the medical supplies

"Waittt you said you'd make it up to me!" she drapes herself over your shoulders as you put away the first aid kit

"Suppose I did" you say as you turn and plant a kiss on the scrape on her cheek

"Come one you can't just kiss one and call it quits. To properly make up for the tedious suffering you put me through you must give a kiss to all my new accessories!"

"Brush your teeth first, then we'll talk"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

I'm so sorry this turned into a long drabble instead, but please let me know if you liked it!! Also I totally projected my hate of disinfecting cuts onto this sorry.

[bekaroth-reads]

Stardew Valley Shane x Reader

[based on the fact that most of the time when he asks why you’re bothering him, his avatar is still smiling.]

Pelican Town was a pretty nice place to live. There weren’t too many other people living here, and your farm was far enough from the actual town that you didn’t get to see the other residents too often. But, you did still see them enough that you were friendly with all of them and actually starting to be friends with some of them. Everyone here seemed to be naturally friendly, even if they were on the more quiet side personality-wise.

And, then there was Shane.

He always looked like he was about to keel over any minute, and half of the time that keeling looked to be by choice. Not that you could really blame him seeing as he was working at the Joja Mart. You had worked for that company long enough yourself to know how much of the life it can suck out of someone. Not to mention he was dealing with a retail job, which was difficult to stomach even if it was somewhere other than Joja. Not that there were too many other people outside of Pelican that went there and would treat him poorly. Shane did have the advantage of living in a smaller town so that even if someone had a problem with him, it would be less likely for it to be blown to a large proportion as that would cause a ripple through the whole population; not to mention that everyone respected Marnie too much to ever do something to cause her grief. No, what most people felt about Shane was pity. They all gave him space though and he seemed to like that.

Regardless, you were always sure to at least wave at Shane when you saw him. For the first month or so you would simply wave or maybe give a, “Good morning,” as when you usually saw him as you were passing each other in the town square on mornings you had to stop at Pierre’s. This was usually met with complete silence or an annoyed grunt. It didn’t bother you too much. You weren’t much of a morning person yourself and understood not wanting to have a full conversation that early in the day. Things changed a little bit once the two of you were properly introduced; perhaps not properly, but there was an introduction. You were over checking prices on things with Marnie as you wanted to be sure you could afford everything you needed if you bought some chickens when Shane came walking in from the other room. “Oh, this is my nephew Shane. I’m sure the two of you have seen each other before.” She offered when he didn’t say anything to you. “Oh, we’ve met before.” You offered as an explication to ease the scolding tone that she was giving Shane. “I don’t know you,” was all that Shane said before walking out the door before Marnie could say anything about it.

After that, you would be a bit more forward about talking to him. Nothing too much past what you were already doing, but instead of just, “Good morning,” you would ask, “How are you?” Or, you would even do something as simple as addressing him by name. Shane in turn, evolved from ignoring or grunting at you to talking back. Of course, it was things like, “Why are you talking to me,” or, “I’m busy.” It was still talking though, and when you talked to Marnie about it to make sure you weren’t making him uncomfortable, she first apologized for how curt he was being, but then seemed floored that he even said that much to you. She said the most he ever talked to anyone that wasn’t her or Jas was when he ordered a drink at the pub or when he was forced to give one to two-word answers at work. There was still a feeling that he was a bit out of his comfort zone, but Marnie assured you if there was a real problem you would know about it; that or she would, and seeing as she didn’t want her nephew to be any more unhappy than he already was she would tell you herself.

Things were really changed last night. It was Friday night, and you decided to go to the pub. It would be nice to just relax for an evening and since that was the night that most of everyone else went to the pub as well it would be nice to catch up with some people you hadn’t seen in a while. When you got there, the usual crowd was there as well, some of them waving as you walked in the door. You ended up spending most of the night talking with Leah with Emily popping in from time to time when she wasn’t helping Gus. You noticed Shane standing in a corner by himself. It seemed that Leah saw you glance in that direction, and commented, “Poor guy. Everyone hates to see him feel so down and out all the time. But, there’s not much anyone can do to help him. He’ll choose beer over help anytime.” There was a bit of derision in her voice, but nothing too uncalled for as it did look like he was at least partially doing this to himself. Before the conversation could continue Emily stopped by on her break and started talking about something completely different.

As the night went on more and more people made their way home. Eventually, there was only a fraction of the people left in the bar. This led to you sitting at the bar. And, only a chair away from Shane. The positioning wasn’t planned, simply from you both taking what seats were available at the time and not moving when others opened up. You were drinking your last drink for the night while Shane was halfway through his third tankard of beer. Not that it should have been impressive, but you found it morbidly amazing that he could have had that much and still be as relatively sober as he was; Gus’s tankards were by no means small. You looked at him from the corner of your eye as you took another drink. “Hey,” you greeted and you saw his tense shoulders slump, seeming deflating because you were bothering him. But, with a few drinks in him, Shane found his tongue loosened more than usual.

“Why do you talk to me?” He asked.

“Why wouldn’t I?” You respond.

This made Shane stop and think for a minute. “It…” he huffed and mumbled so quietly that you almost missed it, “People just don’t.” There was another pause of neither of you talking. Finally, Shane broke the silence again. “Look, if you really want to impress me then buy me another drink.” It surprised everyone, who neither of you noticed were at least glancing at you both frequently because of how odd it was to see Shane out of his corner and talking to someone. It surprised Shane as well when you looked up from your drink and called, “Hey, Gus.” He came walking over, pretending to not have just been talking about the two of you with Emily. You nodded toward Shane and requested, “Get this man a water, if you don’t mind.” Gus did his best to hide a laugh, relieved that he didn’t have to explain to you that he had already cut Shane off for the night. Shane’s face scrunched up moments before he hid it under his hood, and hissed, “Are you serious?”

“Hey, you said a drink. Never said which one.” You chuckle as you catch the glass Gus slid at you. “Besides, you could use it before you walk home.” You gave his shoulder a few pats before standing up to leave. Even though most of his face was covered, you could see the slight twitch of a starting smile threaten to make its way onto his face. You paid Gus and said goodbye to Shane. Everyone sat there like they were witnessing an impossibility when he waved back.

This morning while you were waiting for Pierre’s to open for the day, you saw a certain Joja Mart employee making his way to work. “Good morning, Shane. How are you?” You greeted as he walked by you. He paused a moment like he was thinking about saying something else but eventually grumbled out, “Busy. Why are you talking to me…” as he kept walking past. However, you noticed that little smile start to invade his dower face once again. Maybe Shane didn’t mind you talking to him as much as he acted like he did.

[sailingfireshipz]

Alright! Yall said, "Let it rip so you know the drill! Grab yourself a little snacky snack & let's unpack this shit.

I find it funny how people are trying to misconstrue the problem that we have with the way Pascal is acting & treating Stella. No one has said Stella was right in the manner in which she approached him in episode 1. Hell Kelly called her out on it & Stella herself admitted it. My issue lies in the fact that regardless of episode 1, it appears that Pascal has given his other LTs a level of grace & understanding that he is not giving Stella. So I genuinely want to know why. And if episode 1 is his why, then it goes back to what I said preseason about Stella's mistakes (minor compared to those of others, her husband included) following her. Stella being held to different standards & expectations than her male peers.

If episode 1 is not his reason then I'm left to assume & those assumptions lead me to facts that are rooted in systemic misogyny, racism & sexism.

1. Stella is the only female WOC LT at Firehouse 51.

2. Stella is a younger LT compared to what the CFD is accustomed to seeing per the chief comments in 9x03

2a. Also let's keep in mind the conversation she had with Carver in 11x01. When Stella came home she told Kelly that when she told Carver she got support from DC Hill & his response was "that makes sense" as if she was incapable of earning the shit on her own accord or merrit but implying Stella got a leg up because she was a WOC. Are we forgetting how Stella even met DC Hill? DC Hill came to 51 looking for the FIREFIGHTER that got control of the rig & prevented an accident with civilians. That firefighter was Stella Freaking Kidd.

3. Maybe Pascal thinks less of Stella because she's married/dated a coworker. He could have the same perception that "she slept her way to top"that was expressed in 9x03.

Some observations that I'd like to consider as we unpack his behavior.

1. Pascal brought up turnover on truck yet didn't have the wherewithal to look at the files of the firefighters who transferred out? We've seen that every time someone transfers out, there's a transfer slip that has to be completed. He would have seen Mason & Gallo didn't get transferred to another house within the CFD. He would have saw that they literally are in different STATES still firefighting. I honestly don't know what Gibsons would have said but it would have shown that only one of her FFs that was under her command is no longer on the job.

2. Why was Pascal so QUICK to believe Damon's (White male) word & opinion of Stella over Stella's request to put him back in the floater pool? Stella has been at 51 as a firefighter & LT LONGER than Damon has been a fucking firefighter! So you mean to tell me you're about to strip a LT who has received the firefighter award for valor based off the word of a firefighter who came to 51 as a floater & per Kelly in 13x04 relatively fresh out the academy!? Yall see how insane that sounds right?

3. The only reason Pascal changed his tune on Stella in 13x03 was after Mouch brought him her files/records. So my next question is, why did it take another white male to help sway him? I'm not saying he had to take Stella's word outright but it's the fact that he absolutely SHUT her down & redirected the blame back on her & her "lack of leadership" without investigating the facts. He claims to be all about rules & protocols yet failed to effectively do his research on the situation prior to going to Mouch & asking if he'd be ready to take the LT exam if he needed him...? Huuuuuuh?? I love Mouch, but someone point me to the major save or rescue he did this season so far to "prove himself" to Pascal.... oh wait, he hasn't had one, but you know who has... more on that later.

4. So after Mouch literally saves the night because he himself felt it necessary to go to this man's house off shift at night to bring him her records. Pascal does the right thing & tells Stella to make sure the next replacement on 81 sticks. So what does Stella do!? Does she drag her feet? Does she ignore his orders? Nope she gets right on it. She knew who she wanted but was STILL vetting other candidates because she wanted to make the best informed decision. Yet Pascal was at her neck again saying she was overthinking it. It had been 2-3 shifts MAX. It seems like Stella is showcasing leadership skills that Pascal should be because good leaders don't make important decisions lightly or without all the facts. They research they do their homework they vet out the low hanging fruit to ensure the best decision is made for the betterment of the house.

5. Hermann overheard Pascal & out of HIS mouth, he said Pascal had Stella so stressed out that if she didn't find a replacement for truck, he'd have her bugles. So again, that's not us making the shit up it's quite literally implied in the dialogue that clearly people are picking up the energy & animosity Pascal has towards her. So again, I'm asking where the professionalism is, or is Stella the only one required to be professional?

6. So now I want to talk about Kelly & Pascals interaction in 13x05. It honestly felt like Pascal said that shit to Kelly to see if Kelly would react. We watched Pascal go to LT Vales house & physically assault him for a conversation Vale had with Monica... so clearly he's very protective of his wife so why would he think Kelly would be the person to call Stella an asshole to? That shit was so uncalled for & CHILDISH because if Kelly had punched him in the fucking stomach then what?

At the end of the day before Kelly is Stella's husband he is her peer when they are on shift so again why are you talking shit about one of your direct reports to another direct report?

It sort of felt like a powerplay because Pascal has already brought up to Kelly about him & Stella working together & that he'd be keeping an eye on them. Then he goes & makes that comment knowing that Kelly probably won't respond to it out of fear that he'll throw them being married in his face again if he defends her.

So what we're not about to do is try to normalize or justify Pascals behavior based on the argument that "Stella shouldn't have mouthed off or challenged him." Because honestly, we've seen Kelly & Casey go head to head with Boden & other chiefs, commissioners, etc. when they felt passionately about something (right, wrong, indifferent, they've done it). Not saying what Stella did was right or absolving her from accountability but we're not about to act like she yelled at him & told him to go fuck off! She should've handled herself differently but she shouldn't have to continue to bear the brunt of his twisted ass power plays or whatever the hell he's power tripping on.

He doesn't have to like her & as far as I'm concerned she doesn't have to like him but hell bare minimum he needs to start acting like Battalion Chief with 20+ years on the job versus a petty ass manchild who's mad the girl on the playground embarrassed him in front of his friends.

And I don't want to hear about "Stella hasn't been challenged or Boden let her get away with blah blah or Boden didnt make her "prove" herself & that maybe if she "proves" herself he'll give her a break.

Hard stop, NO! Kelly hasn't had to prove himself. Hermann hasn't had to prove himself. So WHY TF would Stella have to "prove" herself to this man? Like i mentioned before, the playing field needs to be fair across the board for all of them. If anything, Stella has proven herself because she's the one who pulled Damon out of that collapsed sign. She's the one who saw Ritter laying there & still gave clear, concise direction to her truck company (instead of getting all emotional like they think women are going to act in times of crisis 🙄) She took the case in 13x05 & ran with it. Kelly was with her in one scene investigating those crashes. After that, Stella was the one making house calls & following up. Yet at the end of the episode, they had Kelly debriefing the chief on the outcome of the case & not Stella... WHY? At minimum, Stella should have been there & they could have used it as a moment to have them move forward. Instead, they used it as a way to have him add fuel to the fire with that backhanded compliment laced in disrespect by saying she's a pain in the ass & i don't know why!?

Do i think Pascal is a racist, misogynistic, sexist POS sent to uphold the CREEKY views of the CFD? Idk 🤷‍♀️ but what i do know is if it walks, if it talks if it looks then it just might fit. Because there's a clear distinction in how he has handled Stella over the last 4 episodes versus everyone else. & if he's none of those things & he's still just hurt over being challenged by her in episode 1, then I say this with care, but it's time to build a bridge & get over it because I'm tired.

So, in conclusion..... Dom Pascal

When you're referring to anyone at 51 but especially Stella Kidd. 😌

[portraitsofguilt]

AHHHH can you do arcane milfs and reader with age gap? Like maybe something that explores how they feel about being older than reader. Thanks<3

✮ — 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐏 ; cassandra kiramman, ambessa medarda, enforcer grayson, renata glasc, sevika

content warning. afab! reader, sfw ! — lowercase writing intended, age gap, mention of suggestive themes(?), characters are worried, and the reader is a bit oblivious to it

moss' notes. this is such an amazing idea, moss wants to kiss the anonie on the lips (only if anonie lets moss ofc) another note, moss doesn't think they did justice so they might just come back to this later :)

— CASSANDRA...

it wasn't uncommon between her peers to fool around with a much younger partner, to crave the companion of a young person so they themselves can feel a little younger. she sees it as a normal thing in the world, back then in the older days there were teenagers marrying men in their fifties and up, nowadays that doesn't happen but it's somehow still there in a much healthier way.

it doesn't bother her but the ill talks about your relationship fuel her anger. those nights she has a hard time going to sleep, rambling about how it doesn't matter, that they are lies, and that the two of you will never end up like all her comrades do.

x "no matter the gossip, no matter the looks, i love you with all my heart my darling, nothing can change that."

— AMBESSA...

at first, she wouldn't be too worried about the age gap between the two of you, giving no special thought to it because she had plenty of girls as young as her own daughter or even younger before. but when she thinks about having a family, a long life with you the fearless warlord can't help but be scared of what is to come. she had never really thought about her own mortality, she decided if death is to take her to battler then she will be pleased, but with you in the picture, she is not sure if she would like that either.

x "i live in great fear now with you by myself, but i don't dread it, i just hope it will ease. i love you, my dearest y/n."

— GRAYSON...

she can't, she faces so many dirty people on her job, people who take advantage of younger people and call them stupid just because of the age gap is just unacceptable in her opinion. she has a hard time accepting her feelings for you, struggling every step of the way and even now that you have been together for a while she still feels that she needs to apologize if she has ever made you feel like you were just a pretty young thing, a toy that she could use as she pleased. she begged for your forgiveness if she made you feel like that, crawling on her knees in front of you. it is a heartbreaking sight to see someone like her be in such a wrong space of mind.

x "i hope you know that i would never treat you differently just because you are younger, that i don't see you as something to play with, but i see you as my life... i'm sorry."

— RENATA GLASC...

renata might be even more worried about the years between the two of you than anyone else. she hates to think that you might feel that she is too old for you or you are too young for her, that because she is already successful in her line of work she will never appreciate the small things you achieve before the big ones roll in. she wants you to feel equal next to her, to not think that at any given time she is trying to use that horrible line that mothers use, the "i am older than you, i know better, i know what's right for you and me" - she might know more than you, but isn't to say that you are not smarter than her in other topics.

x "we are equal, regardless of our age or knowledge, i love you despite anything they say. i want you for who you are, not because of what you are, my sweetheart."

— SEVIKA...

sevika isn't immune to the worry that comes with the age gap between the two of you, but she takes it less seriously than the others. she has accepted the fact that she has little control over who she falls in love with, who makes her heart flutter and make her realize that she doesn't need to be a god for someone to love her, that she can be human and you would find her nothing but lovely. she thinks very little of how the years between the two of you would affect your relationship.

x "you and i are a team, nobody can take us on, they just have to deal with it."

tag list ; @roguescarlett @mxyx-rx444 @darlingmisa @einrosa @sevikasangel @nopealoupe @pixiegirlz @gonegonethankyouuu @xthescarletbitch @orang3-ish @bigboobslilheart

[questh]

HIII i love this au so much ou…. i’m going to yap a lot but here’s a question!!!!! how would each ghost + damon react/feel when meeting a new ghost? like; a new victim/culprit that just died and is a ghost now? thank youuu!!!!

Hello there, this was a very thought-provoking question, so much so that I had to go back to watch the trial of chapter 1. I'm not an expert at analyzing characters or whatnot, but here's how I think the ghosts and Damon would react to a new victim or murder becoming a ghost. Be warned. This is quite a long post.

Damon Maitsu

I think Damon would have expected it happen. His initial plan would be to ignore the new ghosts, but the plan would crumble pretty fast. Ghosts aren't easy things to ignore.

If Damon was stressed when Wolfgang bombarded him with questions as a ghost, he would probably lose his temper later on with new ghosts if they decide to bother him. But deep down, he'd probably pity them depending on how tolerable they are to be around.

He'd grow to be more sentimental over time, much to his disgust. The last thing he wants is to be "emotionally vulnerable" in a killing game. All over watching the misfortune of the dead.

He'd probably be scared to become one of them if they're suffering that much too... Which may lead him to becoming extra vigilant and only going outside of his room in company of any living person he still trusts, or a ghost like Eva or Wolfgang (due to their deal in Entry#3).

Eva Tsunaka

Eva... there was something I realized when she was executed. Everyone simply stood around watching as she struggled to cling to one of the podiums. Before she was even executed, no one openly acknowledged her side of things or stood up for her much.

Technically, the others proved her right. That even in death, she'd be treated poorly. Even though she did kill someone who meant well to the others, Eva was still proven right.

If she heard Diana's speech, I don't think she'll really appreciate it either.

So, to new ghosts, she'd avoid them and never speak to them. She'd simply watch their despair from a distance, mentally picking them apart, just like they did to her before she was executed. She'd feel immense pride in the fact that she was right about a lot of things.

Though, I think a part of her would also crack over time. Death is something way more than 'karma'. Death is permanent, it's irreversible. After being satisfied with the plight of someone you despise as they grieve and suffer... what else is there to revel in? Their very death? Is that really something to feel happy about?

Death will hurt everyone either way, even if she doesn't want to admit it. Even if she only watches from a distance, the death of the other Ultimates will eventually hurt her as well, regardless of how they treated her.

Wolfgang Akire

As for Wolfgang, seeing the Ultimates die and turn into ghosts would hurt him, which he would be quite open about. He'd be very much nicer to any victims than to any culprits (he may put that knife arm to good use if he's extra 'disappointed'). But he will make exceptions if, for example, a culprit killed on accident and was remorseful.

He'd try to 'help', only to realize there's so little that he could do. The more that die, the more he realizes just how much he was wrong about- which is pretty much the opposite of Eva's situation.

Even though he may try to have hope in their situation, even if he tries to make the ghosts a little less shaken over their passing, it doesn't change anything. I think that sort of thing would discourage him, and perhaps he'd withdraw from interacting with the other ghosts later on into the game.

If ever, he'd still hold up well in conversation with other ghosts, but there's not a lot to talk about when you want to dance around the fact you and the person you're speaking to are both dead. He'd definitely try to avoid the topic.

Maybe he'll stick with speaking to Damon and haunting the living as usual... It really depends on who dies later on in the game.

To summarize, Damon would begrudgingly acknowledge them, but lose his temper more often than not, Eva wouldn't interact with any of the ghosts at all unless absolutely necessary, and Wolfgang would try to help ghosts grapple with their death, but that wouldn't help them much.

Again, I'm sorry for the long post, but I just felt like going in-depth about how these guys feel about any future deaths, and your question was a good opportunity to talk about it^^ I also apologize in advance if there's any spelling errors.

Thank you for your ask!

[superpyodan]

Built Just for You

right. it's 7:22 am. i've been up since midnight. what's under the cut is ENTIRELY innapropriate for 7:22am. i can promise you that with FULL certainty.

i wrote this with some help from @annetastic1981a! she's lovely and the best and you should check out her fics!

anyways. alex and kenny. or something. pls enjoy.

❗Minors, DNI ❗stay awayyyyyyy

WC: 3,190 (jesus fucking christ)

Alex Mullner doesn’t like to ask for what he wants. He teases, drops hints — Kissing along Kenny’s jawline, pulling at the hem of his t-shirt, doing everything in his power to make a point, without explicitly stating one. It’s endearing, sure, but it drives Kenny a little insane. He wants to know exactly what Alex wants. He doesn’t want to misinterpret, or overstep boundaries. Too anxious for any possibility of uncertainty.

‘’You’ve got to use words, Alex.’’ Kenny tells him one evening, while they’re sat in front of the fire. Well — Less sitting, more making out. It starts with making out every single time. Alex is touchy, perpetually in contact with his boyfriend. The majority of the time it’s loving and innocent, something he does for his own comfort. But, in the correct circumstances, it’s quick to escalate. A winter evening, after some dinner? Perfect circumstances.

‘’I’m bad at that,’’ Alex groans, wrapping his arms around Kenny’s neck and burying his face into his shoulder.

‘’I know you are, but I don’t want to accidentally do something you’re uncomfortable with. Plus, I like hearing you talk.’’

‘’In a hot way, or in a normal, loving way?’’

‘’All of the above.’’ Kenny informs Alex, and holds him by the waist. ‘’You don’t need to be shy. You’re literally on top of me and I can feel your dick through your jeans. What’s a little verbal communication?’’

In response, Alex just buries his head deeper into Kenny’s shoulder. Kenny, on the other hand, takes a handful of Alex’s hair and gently pulls at it, coaxing Alex’s face away from him so that they can look at each other. Alex’s cheeks are dusted with red, a sight that’s adorably familiar to Kenny. Alex gets shy so easily. It’s surprising, for someone who put so many years of effort into his physical appearance. He didn’t do it to look attractive, but it’s an obvious side effect. Though, Kenny would find him attractive regardless. It’s Alex. Of course he would.

To loosen Alex up a little, Kenny presses a couple of sweet kisses behind his earlobe before speaking again. ‘’What do you want from me? You want to go to bed? You want me to take your shirt off? Undo the button of those jeans? They could do with undoing.’’

‘’I could kill you,’’ Alex mumbles. His forehead is pressed against Kenny’s, one hand pressed against Kenny’s neck, the other in his hair.

‘’You love me,’’ Kenny corrects, and snakes his hand up the back of Alex’s shirt. He rubs Alex’s lower back gently, another sweet action, but that’s exactly what makes Alex melt. He likes to be loved, to be treated gently, and Kenny is more than happy to oblige. He’d do just about anything to make sure Alex feels loved.

‘’I do,’’ Alex affirms quietly, and presses his lips against Kenny’s. Again, gentle, sweet.

Quick to escalate.

It always begins with Alex on top of Kenny. It doesn’t take long for the roles to switch, Kenny’s hands pressed into the couch, Alex holding Kenny’s shoulders. He pushes Kenny’s hair back and holds it there, while hitching his hips up and whimpering carefully into Kenny’s mouth. Careful, because he doesn’t like making too much noise. Kenny wishes he’d make more. In fact, he encourages it, pressing himself against Alex and sinking soft bites into his lower lip. Alex likes that. Kenny likes having his neck kissed, but Alex likes having his lip and shoulders bitten. An equal exchange, always — Until it isn’t.

Their shirts long discarded, but the button on Alex’s jeans still firmly in place, the two move their activities to the bedroom. It’s where Alex feels most comfortable. Kenny holds him close and lowers him into the mattress, kissing between his shoulder and neck, feeling Alex’s heartbeat against his skin.

‘’What do you want, baby?’’ Kenny asks into Alex’s ear, a nickname only used in the comfort of the bedroom.

‘’Literally anything,’’ Alex says, gripping Kenny’s upper arms, entirely unaware of his own strength in the moment. ‘’Anything. Please.’’

Kenny chuckles, and kisses Alex’s forehead. ‘’That’s not good enough. Give me something specific.’’

‘’I don’t know,’’ Alex replies, breathless, while Kenny places kisses down the length of his torso. In Alex’s defense — Kenny isn’t making it easy for him to string sentences together. He’s actively making it more difficult, but Alex looks so good underneath him that his assertive façade is quick to dissipate.

Kenny promptly unbuttons Alex’s jeans, and fingers at the hem of his underwear, while Alex squirms underneath him. He doesn’t let it happen that quick, though, and instead moves back upwards and kisses Alex on the lips again.

‘’Please,’’ Alex pleads, looking Kenny directly in the eyes. Kenny just smiles down at him, and palms at Alex’s dick, hard through his underwear, instead. He enjoys seeing Alex like this — Submissive, sweaty and breathless from almost nothing. It’s not difficult to rile him up. It’s the easiest thing in the world, actually. The only thing easier is loving him.

‘’You’re so cute,’’ Kenny whispers, eliciting another whimper from Alex. Embarrassed, he covers his mouth, but Kenny quickly removes it and laces their fingers together instead. Eventually, his other hand makes it’s way below Alex’s waistband, far enough for Alex to take a sharp inhale, but not far enough that it means anything. Until it does — Obviously.

Kenny stays close, though. He likes to be close to Alex. To feel his heartbeat, feel the breath against his face, to hear every shake in Alex’s voice. Something that borders on a cuddle, mixed with sweat and lust and all the stars in the sky. Everything that’s ever been good is held in the inches of space between Alex’s neck and Kenny’s lips. They love and long and lose together, and in moments like these, Kenny hopes it’ll last forever.

As Kenny traces a finger up Alex’s happy trail, Alex presses his free palm against the small of his back. Then, he pushes Kenny’s hips into his thigh, making his dick feel a little too tight in his pyjama pants.

‘’Don’t do that,’’ Kenny warns playfully, but Alex just pushes him further, hitching his own hips upwards until they’re both placed neatly into the bend of each other’s thighs. Kenny maneuvers himself, slipping a hand underneath Alex’s head and pulling him into a kiss that feels embarrassingly desperate, for him. Usually, he’s able to keep his cool. But, Alex is moaning sweetly into his mouth, and his hair is soft between Kenny’s fingers, and it makes it incredibly easy for everything in him to start cracking. Breaking open, moment by moment.

‘You feel…’’ Alex starts, but trails off when Kenny sinks a gentle bite into his neck.

‘’Hm?’’

‘’I don’t — You’re — Oh my God,’’ Alex stumbles over his words, pressing his bulge harder into Kenny with every kiss, every bite, every small movement of his hips. Admittedly, Kenny can’t help but feel a little proud of himself. He always does, and it never gets old.

“What do you want, baby?” Kenny asks again, nipping at Alex’s shoulder, grinning to himself as Alex moans a little louder, unable to untangle his hand from Kenny’s to cover his mouth.

“I don’t know,” Alex manages to say in between shallow breaths, as kenny traces his thumb against Alex’s jawline.

“Do you want me to stop?” He whispers, just about audible above Alex’s shaky breath.

“No,” Alex replies, leaning up as Kenny moves away, chasing his lips.

“Then use your words,” Kenny reiterates, the cracks glueing themselves back together. This time, he can work with Alex, instead of for him. Though — He doesn’t have an issue with the latter. Not in the slightest. Regardless, Alex looks at Kenny, hesitating, holding careful eye contact. Seeing the look of encouragement in Kenny’s eyes, he takes as deep a breath as he can manage.

“I want you to touch me.” He says. It’s quiet, tip-toeing on the crumbling edge of embarrassment. But, he said it. That’s a start. And, of course — Kenny is more than happy to oblige. He palms Alex’s groin through his jeans, smiling as Alex, somewhat involuntarily, thrusts against his hand.

‘’Satisfied?’’ Kenny asks, slightly tightening his grip on Alex through his jeans. Alex nods weakly, but then quickly changes his mind, and shakes his head, instead.

“Jeans,’’ He pleads, evidently having a difficult time stringing sentences together. Though, he adds a quick ‘’Please,’’ soon after. Of course — He was raised by his grandparents. He’d never forgo saying ‘please’. Always polite, even when he can barely think.

Kenny hums in acknowledgement, and moves his hand upwards to unbutton Alex’s jeans, pulling gently at the zip of his fly. He follows it, slowly sliding the jeans down Alex’s legs, removing them completely and tossing them to the side of the bed.

“What’s next?” He asks in encouragement, smiling through it. He’s sure he looks like an idiot, but God, is he having fun. He knows exactly what’s next. He knows where the entire of the rest of his night is going. But, still. It’s nice to hear it come from Alex — Among other things.

“Underwear,” Alex gasps, eyes shut tight, a knuckle pressed against his teeth. Kenny teases at the elastic of his underwear, slipping half a fingertip through and dragging it across the length of Alex’s body. A totally unnecessary action, but it’s fun to see Alex squirm.

“Off?” Kenny suggests, humming again when Alex nods. He swiftly removes Alex’s underwear, dropping them on top of the discarded jeans. Then, he takes it upon himself to sit on Alex’s thighs, and just look, for a moment. He rubs circles into Alex’s hip with his thumb, taking in everything that’s underneath him. His Alex. As perfect as ever. But still, he waits for Alex’s next instruction. It has to come eventually.

“Kenny,” Alex moans. Eventually came faster than expected.

“Yes, love?’’ Kenny asks, nothing but sweetness in his voice.

‘’Please,’’ Is all Alex can come up with. Kenny grins down at him, cocking his head slightly, his hair falling over his face. Kenny’s love for Alex, while constant, hits him at unexpected moments. This is one of them. Alex is ridiculous. A mess, deeply emotional, bad at expressing himself. But Kenny wouldn’t change any of it for the world, really. Every part of Alex that makes him him, is perfect.

He runs his palm along the top of Alex’s dick, gently, easing him into it. Kenny moves intentionally, and with love, always. The last thing he’d want to do is make Alex uncomfortable. However, he doesn’t seem it — Not even a little bit. Kenny’s touch elicits a moan from Alex, as he loses some tension, melting into Kenny a little.

However, Alex’s knuckle between his teeth quickly turns into a hand over his mouth. It’s the line of embarrassment again, this time, entirely crumbling underneath him. But, Kenny doesn’t like that. He doesn’t want Alex to feel embarrassed or ashamed around him. So, he shuffles a little, leaning over Alex, removes his hand by the wrist, and laces their fingers together instead.

‘’It’s okay,’’ He breathes, his lips pressed gently against Alex’s. ‘’You’re okay.’’

After a nod, Alex presses his lips against Kenny’s with a little more force. They kiss a couple of times, Kenny nibbling gently at Alex’s lower lip, before he moves and once again wraps his free hand around Alex. The other hand, however, stays exactly where it was. It feels important, somehow. Two points of contact, both meaning different things. But, they’re both things that need to be expressed, things that Kenny wants Alex to understand.

For a moment, he revels in it. Takes the time to enjoy himself. Every ounce of his attention is on Alex. The way he moves, feels, sounds. It’s easy to get lost in it, even outside of the current context. When Alex is in a room of people, he’s the only one Kenny notices. He knows Alex’s footsteps, the sound of his breathing, the exact shape of his fingernails — He could probably recognise the sound of Alex’s blinking, if that was possible. It’s all-encompassing. Their entire lives consistently revolve around each other.

“I want…” Alex mumbles, breaking Kenny’s focus. He pauses for a moment, steadying himself. Then, the words come fast. “I want you to remove your pyjamas. And your underwear. I want you against me.”

Done. Alex doesn’t need to ask twice. Or even once, really. The fact that Kenny is still mostly clothed is a miracle. So, once again, he does as asked, with efficiency. A military-level of service. What Alex wants, Alex gets, with no second thought. Shuffling, in order to lie next to Alex, Kenny pulls him in, kissing his jawline and playing with his hair. They share warmth, and breath, and a heartbeat. It’s a kind of intimacy that Kenny’s never been able to access with anyone else. It hits him every time his palm is pressed against the back of Alex’s neck.

“What now?” Kenny murmurs, between kisses. Alex doesn’t answer for a while, just pulling Kenny closer, kissing him deeper, trailing his fingers up and down his spine.

“I don’t know. Anything. I’m clocked out.’’ Alex laughs, pressing his forehead against Kenny’s. ‘’No more questions, please.’’

Kenny chuckles too, stroking Alex’s cheek with his thumb. ‘’Sure, baby. You want me inside you?’’

Alex nods, eyes closed, leaning his face into Kenny’s hand. He’s cute. Beautiful, even. Soft, but angular. Muscular, gentle, soft spoken, loud. An energetic embodiment of Venus, proudly holding her scales.

Holding himself up with one arm, Kenny goes to lean over Alex towards the bedside table. But he barely gets the drawer open, before he’s interrupted.

“Wait,” Alex says, looking up. Kenny stills, looking at Alex with inquisitive eyes.

“I want to do it.”

It takes everything in Kenny to not fall apart right then. This has always been his job. They have a dynamic going, that’s never been strayed from. It’s fun, it’s comfortable, it’s what they enjoy. By no means, though, is Kenny going to deny Alex’s desire. Once again — What Alex wants, Alex gets. So, Kenny recedes, allowing Alex to reach into the bedside table instead.

“Lie down,” Alex commands, his confidence blooming, rubbing lube into his hands. Kenny, not in a position to resist, does as he’s told. He lies down, allowing Alex to straddle him, before Alex reaches behind himself, and slips his finger inside, moaning in delight at the feeling. Watching, Kenny bites his bottom lip, suddenly incredibly aware of his own cock, throbbing. It kind of feels like torture, but one that he’d never beg for an ending of.

Alex stretches himself, adding another finger, while Kenny takes a hand of himself. Then, Alex pulls his fingers out, then reaches for the lube again, pouring some into his palm and then rubbing them together. Next, he reaches down and replaces the hand on Kenny’s dick with his own. It’s unexpected, but not unwanted, and Kenny’s almost convinced he could cum then and there.

He doesn’t, though. Self control tends to be one of his strong suits, regardless of the situation.

Alex kneels back down over Kenny, guiding him, so his cock is placed against Alex’s hole. And then, Alex pushes down, pressing his lips together, causing Kenny to take a single sharp breath. He does everything he can to hold back. Alex needs to be comfortable, above anything else. Thus far, Alex has been so good so far about taking control, and expressing what he wants. Kenny can’t take that away from him.

“What do you want, baby?” Kenny whispers, despite himself. It’s a genuine question, this time, instead of a plea to get Alex to communicate. He did not know what was coming next, and right now, anything goes.

Alex cocks his head a little, smiling gently, expressing a confidence he did not previously have a hold of. That smile, those eyes, are normally focused the other way around. But, Alex’s face is flushed, and his eyes are crinkles, and Kenny can’t help but smile back at him.

“I want you to fuck me. Please.’’ Alex finally says, running a finger down Kenny’s stomach. And, in that moment, with Alex looking so pretty, holding perfect eye contact — The self control is gone.

Kenny lifts himself upwards, holding Alex’s back as he readjusts their position. Once he’s sure they’re both comfortable, a little tentatively, he withdraws from Alex then pushes back in. Alex immediately grabs a bundle of Kenny’s hair, head resting against Kenny’s, lips slightly parted. It gives Kenny the permission he needed to continue, so he does so, and reaches reaches in between them, grasping Alex’s cock.

‘’You are - So - Fucking… Hot.’’ Kenny mutters, his sentence a little broken. ‘’And I love you.’’ He then adds, for good measure. He does. He really, truly, does love Alex. Not just now. Always.

Alex just moans in response, involuntarily digging his nails into Kenny’s skin. He likes to be told he’s loved. He likes to be praised, to be showered with compliments and affection. So, Kenny does. In fact, he makes a very conscious effort to do so. He’s not a good talker, not really. Alex likes to hear him, though. That’s what matters.

‘’Pretty boy,’’ Kenny muses, as coherently as possible, kissing Alex’s cheek. ‘’You’re doing such a good job. I love you.’’

‘’K,’’ Alex breathes, almost a whimper. Kenny knows what it means.

‘’You’re good. It’s okay.’’

With a few final thrusts, and a firm grip around Alex’s dick, they both fall into each other. Arms around each other, breathing in sync, sharing skin that is usually unexplored. Alex leans in to kiss Kenny — A long, sweet kiss. Then they pull away, but stay close. Breathing into each others mouths, foreheads pressed together, Kenny gently stroking Alex’s back for comfort. Blissful silence, with the light of the moon illuminating Alex’s shoulders. Sometimes Kenny wonders if it shines for him.

‘’I love you too, by the way,’’ Alex says, making Kenny laugh breathlessly.

‘’Of course you do. I know.’’