#that is a fine man... a true dilf... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dollfacefantasy · 9 months ago

Note

I love your writing sm, it's just what I needed μ_μ Do you think you could write Leon being the father of reader's idiot ex who just broke up with her? Leon just wants to console her and the reader only thinks about all the sexual tension they had for a while and now they have nothing to stop them.

(sorry if my english is bad, luv ya)

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: your ex boyfriend's dad comforts you after you and his son breakup

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, age gap

word count: 5.3k

a/n: dilf leon you KNOW i love that. thank you so much for your request. i hope you like it! i used death island for the picture, but imagine leon in his late forties for this. as always, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus @luniaxi

Leon lets out a deep sigh as he yanks the keys out of the ignition and his car's engine fizzles out. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he looks down at his lap. He takes another deep breath and shakes his head before looking out the window at your apartment building. He’d been told you lived on the fourth floor.

He opens the door next, stepping out into the cold air. The sun was nowhere to be found today, the sky completely masked by a collection of gray clouds. He walks around to the back of the car and pops the trunk open to collect the box of memories he’d been tasked with returning to you.

He didn’t understand how he’d ended up with this job. Despite his numerous daydreams he wished he could forget, you weren’t ever his girlfriend. He hadn’t been the one you’d come over to visit. You didn’t fall asleep in his room or wear his t-shirts or kiss him goodbye when you left. He hadn’t been the one to cheat on you or make you cry for days on end either. No. That’d been his son.

So why was he the one going out of his way to bring you this stuff? That was what he couldn’t comprehend.

Well that’s not exactly true. He comprehended just fine. His son planned on throwing out your stuff that’d been left at his house, remnants of your eight months together. Leon didn’t want that. He’d told his son to pack it up and take it to you like a man should. He had been the one in the wrong after all. But no, his son argued up and down, coming up with every reason under the sun as to why it was better to just throw it away. So Leon just gave up. He knew if he commanded it, his son would just shove your shit in a box and drive down the street to throw it from the window of his moving car. The car Leon paid for.

Truth be told, he always had a soft spot for you. A chamber of his heart that was coated in guilt, surrounded by denial, but internally the sweetest part of him. The one piece of his soul that saw some light in the world that had gone dark for him years ago. So just for you, Leon drove the thirty minutes to your complex to deliver your belongings.

He picks up the cardboard box and tucks it under his arm. The trunk slams with a loud thump, and he’s thinking of what he’s even going to say to you when you open the door. Come to think of it, he didn’t even know if you were home. He had a pretty good idea of your schedule from the time you’d spend on the phone with his son or at his house, but he didn’t even check to be sure.

In the midst of mentally scolding himself, the bottom of the box bursts, and your items go tumbling out onto the pavement. He tries to catch them, but his fingers just miss. Another sigh seeps from his lungs as he crouches down to scoop them up. He picks up a pink hoodie that’d been crumpled up at the foot of his son’s bed, a stuffed bear he saw him pull from the crack between the mattress and the wall, and a bracelet that laid abandoned on the nightstand. He collects other little pieces of you scattered across the damp concrete before managing to situate them in his arms and resume walking to you.

He tosses the broken box into the nearby trash before entering the building and going down the hall and to the elevator. From what he saw, the place was alright. You didn’t live in luxury, but he was relieved he wouldn’t be left worrying about your safety after he left.

The elevator glides up to your floor in total silence with him being the only one in the small space. The little ding that marks his arrival releases a burst of anxiety within him. He felt so dumb. He was nervous like he was your and his son’s age. He pushes those feelings away and gets himself to be normal, to act his age. All he had to do was knock, shove this shit in your arms, and leave.

On the way down the hall to your unit, he realizes this plan means this will probably be the last time he ever sees you. Spare some chance encounter at the grocery store, this would be the final time he’d feel your sweet eyes on him or see that timid smile when he complimented you. That made him sad to think about. He never thought you’d be a permanent fixture in his life. You and his son were young, and being the type of guy his son was, he doubted your relationship was destined to succeed. In honesty, he was shocked it lasted as long as it did. But now, the ending was real. Knowing the time with you in his life was coming to a close felt how the sky outside looked.

Once he reaches the door with your number on it, his fist taps the wood twice. He hears soft shuffling inside, followed by the sound of locks being undone a couple moments later. You crack the door open, standing there in your pajamas. Both your top and bottoms were plain gray. You looked worn down. He could tell you’d been crying. Poor baby.

Your tired eyes flicker with curiosity when they glance up at his face.

“Mr. Kennedy?” you ask with confusion.

His mouth breaks into a charming grin upon hearing that. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Leon before it sticks?” he teases.

“Sorry…” you say. You didn’t smile at his teasing like normal. Given the circumstances, he supposed that made sense. “What are you doing here?”

“I have some of your stuff you left at my house. Can I come in?” he asks.

Now your eyes flash with a brief spout of anger, but you still open the door wider for him to enter.

“He couldn’t bring it to me?” you ask with clear bitterness in your tone.

He cringes at the sound. What was he supposed to say? In reality, he was on your side, but wouldn’t it be wrong to tell you that? He loved his son. He really did. Even with all the mistakes he made and the flaws he’d caused the boy, he loved him. He probably shouldn’t talk shit about him with his ex-girlfriend.

But at the same time, it was you. You weren’t just some random ex-girlfriend. He’d known you for the better half of a year. You were sweet, actually polite enough to say hello when you came over. You could hold a conversation. And sure, it didn’t hurt any that you were cute too. He felt something strong for you. He just struggled to articulate exactly what that something was. He was tempted to say you’d become part of the family. That’s probably what plenty of others in his situation would say. But the shameful thoughts that plagued his mind when he was alone late at night begged to differ with that assessment

Right now, it didn’t look like you were doing well. He sees the setup you have for yourself on the couch. A heap of blankets, pushed and twisted up around the spot you’d clearly been laying before he interrupted. The curtains were drawn, it was dark in here. You didn’t need him to run defense for the guy who cheated on you, relations aside.

“Guess not,” is how he finally answers your question to which he’s met with a roll of your eyes.

“Of course,” you mutter while walking over to meet him at the counter so you can inspect your items after he puts them down.

You rifle through the different things, scanning them haphazardly before returning your disinterested gaze to him. Your arms cross over your chest, and you shrug.

“Thanks, I guess.”

You’re clearly expecting him to leave now. And he knows that’s what he should do. Awkwardly shuffle out the door with a small wave goodbye. He can’t though. Something inside him won’t let him pull away just yet.

“How have you been?” he starts tentatively, “Haven’t seen you in a few weeks.”

“Fine… I guess,” you answer.

You guess. Again. A nervous tick. An indicator of deflection. You clearly didn’t want to delve into the inner workings of your broken heart with the father of the man responsible. He should back off. But he doesn’t.

“Are you sure? I know you two are broken up now or whatever you want to call it, but I still care about you, you know? You’re a sweet girl,” he starts, hating how this was coming out, “I just… I know how it is to feel alone. I don’t want that for you. If you need someone to talk to…”

“I should come to you? Is that it?” you say, a bit harsher than he would like.

“Well… yeah?” he responds.

You turn away, cutting him off from seeing your reactions. “That’s nice, Leon. But… I don’t think you’re the one I should talk to about any of this,” you say.

He takes a step closer, laying a cautious hand on your shoulder. “I think I’m the perfect one for you to talk to about this,” he says.

His reasoning is brief, but he doesn’t feel the need for more. Despite your resistance, the gears in your head are turning, deciding whether or not to take the offer. “There’s nothing to even talk about. It is what it is,” you reply. He can hear that characteristic softness returning to your voice.

“I don’t think that’s true. You don’t have to lie to me,” he says, getting even closer. He gently guides you back to the couch and clears some space for the two of you to sit. He directs your eyes back to him before he finishes speaking. “It’ll stay between us.”

You look up at him, sweet glossy eyes threatening to spill your emotions down your cheeks. He can see your apprehension, but in the end, you still decide to go for it.

“I just… I feel so dumb,” you start, biting your lip.

“You shouldn’t,” he tells you.

“But I do,” you say, voice becoming strained, “People told me he would do something like this, and I actually defended him. I’m so stupid, and everyone knows it now.”

While he wasn’t too pleased to learn of his son’s reputation, his sympathy for you overwhelms that. His hand rubs up and down your back as your head falls to your hands.

“Sweetheart…” he sighs, the term rolling out before he can stop himself, “It’s not your fault. It’s not a bad thing to be trusting.”

He sees your face tense as you lose the battle to hold your tears in. His heart aches seeing you look so defeated.

“Yes it is,” you cry, “I hate it.”

“Hey, c’mere,” he says and pulls you closer. He drapes his arm over your shoulder and holds you to his side. “Don’t talk like that about yourself, ok? Being cheated on doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you.”

He felt slightly awkward considering the cheater in question is his own flesh and blood. The feeling of your soft body against him overrides that thought though. You’re still weeping into his chest, so he continues.

“Look, baby,” he says. Another pet name. His mind screams for him to get a grip. “I love my son, but… I know him too. He can be insensitive, and that’s not what a girl like you needs.”

You look up at him, interested in his potential point. In your eyes, he feels he can see his reflection glaring back at him with disapproval.

“You’re such a precious thing. Someone to be handled with care,” he whispers, stroking your jaw, “I don’t want this to take that from you.”

More tears roll down your cheeks while you take in his words. He swipes a couple away with his thumb as he talks to you.

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes. With my ex-wife, with my son, with my work. Christ, just with my life in general.” Why was he telling you this? “I look at you, and you remind me of who I was before those mistakes. I know stuff like this can make you bitter, and I just don’t want that to happen to you. You don’t need to blame yourself for what he did or try to keep how you feel inside. Once you get past this, you’re gonna move onto something better for you. I just don’t want you to forget that.”

He watches your lip quiver harder before the floodgates finally burst. Now that he’d given you permission, you don’t hold back. A sob tumbles from your lips. He immediately goes to pull you closer again, but this time you take it upon yourself. His eyes widen as you scoot into his lap.

It’s as if he acts on instinct though. As soon as you have your face buried against his throat, his arms loop around you in return. One hand rubs the expanse between your shoulder blades while the other simply supports the small of your back.

“Sweet baby…” he whispers.

“He told me he loved me,” you weep. He can feel your warm tears dripping down his skin now.

“I’m sure he did, honey,” he says and rocks back and forth with you a bit.

Now you really unload. You cry against him about basically every wrongdoing his son had committed in your time together. He compared you to other girls, told you that you were too needy, forgot your birthday. And Leon listens to it all, not playing devil’s advocate even once.

Guilt burns hot in his chest though. Nevertheless, he tries to convince himself that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. He was just helping a poor, hurting girl in need. But that excuse crumbles when he simply thinks about what his son would say to the sight of his ex-girlfriend curled up on his father’s lap, clinging to him like he was her new man.

His mind continued trying to justify this anyways, putting forth the idea that this was out of his control. He was powerless when it came to situations like this. The life he led so far had wired a savior complex into his brain. He couldn’t resist you, another princess he could restore to her pedestal.

That was definitely part of why he didn’t put you back on the couch and slowly begin to make an exit. The other part was less honorable. Despite his mind’s ideas of noble motivations, deep down he knew part of this was selfishness. Being human, he wasn’t gonna complain about a pretty young girl warming his lap. And being himself, he certainly wasn’t going to complain because that girl happened to be you. The guilt he felt faded instantly with one look at your doe face or one word from your tender voice.

“None of that is your fault,” he comforts you once you finish your list and breaks away from his thoughts, “You didn’t deserve any of it.”

“I know…” you whimper before another sob comes from you, “I hate him so much. But it’s even worse cause I still miss him.”

That shoots a sharp pang of jealousy through his heart to which he mentally slaps himself. God, you made him feel pathetic, but in a way he didn’t want to admit, that was part of the appeal. He holds you tighter and nuzzles the top of your head, breathing in the scent of your shampoo.

“That’s ok. It’s only natural,” he coos and continues soothing you.

“Why do I miss him? How do I make it stop?” you cry, your voice cracking.

Fuck. You really did remind him of himself which only made this more twisted. He knew what you were feeling so well. That longing ache that festers inside until you feel like clawing your skin off and prying your ribs apart to purge yourself of the infection. He sighs and shifts you on his thigh, pulling you closer to him.

“You can’t make it go away. You know that. It’s a time-heals-all-wounds situation, sweetheart. Just gotta wait it out, but it’ll get better,” he says.

Then he must have truly gone over the edge because he leans in and presses a faint kiss to your hairline. Luckily for him, you don’t protest. Instead, it draws more tears from you. Your arms lock around him and pull the rest of your body closer

“I just feel empty, and I don’t know why. He wasn’t that great… no offense,” you sniffle.

“None taken,” he says softly, a small smile rising on his lips. He keeps rubbing your back, resting his head on top of yours. “Most breakups hurt, even when you’ve run the course of the relationship. It’s not fun losing someone.”

It wouldn’t be fun losing you. That was for fucking sure. He was only making it worse for himself by doing all this. At this point, he wasn’t sure how he’d manage to tear himself away once you stopped crying.

“I guess,” you whimper, lip puffing out into a sweet pout he’d only ever seen as a joke before.

“You’re such a sensitive girl, honey. So delicate,” he murmurs against your hair. He knows he should stop. He’s toeing the borderline, but it’s all he can do to keep himself from hurdling over it at full force.

“I’m overdramatic,” you correct.

He scoffs, dismissing your claim. “Did someone tell you that? Because they don’t know what they’re talking about. You’re precious,” he whispers with another kiss to your head.

That word seems to strike something in you. Your crying that had been dwindling seems to soften down to an occasional ragged breath. You look up at him with your watery eyes. He continues to push away remaining tears on your cheeks before running his knuckles down your jaw.

As he looks into your eyes, the temptation becomes irresistible. He needs you.

“Sweet thing like you… you need someone who can understand you, protect those feelings of yours, not make you feel bad about ‘em,” he says, his thumb dragging over your chin.

“You think so?” you ask.

“Oh yeah. There’s nothing wrong with wearing your heart on your sleeve,” he says teasingly, “All it means is that you care. Plus, this may be just me, but I think it’s pretty cute.”

Your teary eyes widen just the slightest amount, and your hips squirm a bit on his lap. You look down at your fingers fidgeting with one another.

“I don’t know,” you say quietly.

“I do. You’re so pretty when you cry, baby,” he mutters and lifts your chin to get you to look at him again, “You have puppy eyes, just begging for some love.”

A shy smile starts spreading on your face. Your eyes cast down, and he knows he’s got you hooked. Now he just has to reel you in.

“Yeah, you know it’s true,” he whispers and leans in to kiss your cheeks, “Bet you have a lot of fun using ‘em on people.”

“No,” you say timidly, eyes glancing back up at him.

“Oh, of course not. A little angel like you would never take advantage,” he teases. He kisses across your cheek bone to your temple, and then moves his lips down to where your jaw meets your neck. He can hear your breath hitching. His hands pull you closer to his body, feeling your warmth up against him. One slides to your side, rubbing up and down slowly.

“That’s why you need to be taken care of,” he breathes against your skin, “Let me take care of you, baby.”

You nod with no hesitation on your part. He can tell from the breath you let out that you're giving into some temptations of your own. Your head leans in and he ducks down to connect your lips, nearly groaning as he feels the plush flesh press against him. The kisses start off tender, just little pecks as you explore the feeling of each other. But they soon grow in passion. Your mouths open against each other. Your tongues meet, and spit coats one another's lips. You’re both breathing heavier.

He pulls back to look at you, those eyes he had been going on about now clouded with lust. Moving in for a few more, he cups your face. “You like that?” he murmurs.

“Mhm,” you hum, reciprocating the affection.

He chuckles as you move in even closer, the swell of your breasts pushing up against his chest. His hands squeeze your waist and turn you around so your back is to his front, your head tilted on his shoulder.

“Pretty baby, so eager for me,” he coos as his hands smooth up your stomach to your chest. He fondles your tits through your top, feeling their entirety since you weren’t wearing a bra.

The softest noise of satisfaction leaves you, and you nip at his lips. He deepens the kiss in response, groping you a bit harder. Your hands travel South to his belt, attempting to undo behind your back, but his hand drops and grabs your wrists.

“Not yet,” he corrects with a kiss to your temple, “There’s no rush. I want to take my time with you. Warm you up like you deserve.”

His mouth envelopes yours again while his hand releases your wrists and returns to your breast. He can feel your nipples perking up in anticipation. His cock starts to do the same beneath you. As you feel it, you roll your ass back against him, providing some friction. He smiles against your lips, the prior reservations he had about this leaving his mind one by one.

Maneuvering his palms between your thighs, his fingers coast up and down the sensitive skin. His mouth trails down to your neck to kiss you there, sucking soft love bites onto your throat. You’re single now. It’s not like you’d have to hide them.

He parts your legs a bit more before cupping them underneath and pulling you down so that you’re at an angle where he can remove the fluffy pajama pants that kept him from his target. You watch the soft fabric fall away and crumple up on the floor. You’re a little jittery as he exposes your skin now. This is real, no longer a far-fetched fantasy.

His hand is on your pussy in seconds, stroking you through the thin cotton that covers it. The kisses to your throat don’t stop, and his free hand keeps you in place on his lap.

“Those college boys you’ve been running around with are too busy thinking with their dicks. They don’t know what to do with a prize like you,” he murmurs and drags his nose up the curve of your face.

He chooses to forget the fact that the boy you had been running around with was his son. That didn’t need to matter right now. All that mattered was the whimper that fell from you, the way your hair felt against the crook of his neck. His fingers play with you a little more before sliding into your panties.

“Aw, you’re already getting wet, hm?” he purrs, “Precious girl. Probably so pent up. Never been properly fucked the way you shoulda been.”

You nod and turn your head to look into his eyes. He takes the chance to kiss you again, working his mouth with yours while his fingers coasted through your folds.

“Need you to make it better,” you mumble against his lips.

You feel his smirk and how he kisses with increased fervor. The pads of his fingers swirl around your clit, eliciting a tiny gasp from you.

“Not a problem, baby. You’re not leaving my lap till you can’t remember why you were crying in the first place,” he whispers.

You sigh with content and resume languidly making out. His fingertips are rough on the smooth skin of your center, dragging over your sweet spots with the best friction you’d ever felt. Your body arches into his touch. You actually want more. A refreshing feeling for you.

He continues focusing on your sensitive bundle of nerves, flicking over it, pressing small circles into it, swiping down across it. Occasionally, he’d massage lower, teasing your entrance and feeling the arousal pooling from his actions.

“You like how I’m playing with you? Feel good having that clit touched? It’s so sensitive, just like the rest of you,” he breathes.

You nod again, a desperate whine unraveling out of you. He chuckles and speeds up his fingers.

“I knew you would. You’re beyond the little boys who thrust a few times and leave you wanting for more. Think it’s pretty obvious you need a real man,” he says.

He didn’t even know where half this stuff was coming from, but he wasn’t gonna launch an investigation into it. It worked for you, so it was working for him.

Your hips buck as he maintains a steady pace and even amount of pressure. He rubbed you just the way you liked, as if he knew your body on an instinctual level.

“You’re gonna cum just from my fingers. You can do it. Have you gushing already before I slip my cock in you,” he murmurs against your skin.

His fingers have started making wet noises as they slide up and down on your cunt. You mewl and tense up, relishing the pleasure he brought you. You whimper out his name quietly, over and over. Leon. Specifically him.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Who’s the one making you feel so good? Who’s the one you’ve needed all along?”

You gasp it again for him. Leon.

“Good girl,” he growls.

He moves his fingers with more precision and dedication, taking you right to the blissful edge and letting you crash over it. Watching how your body writhes on his lap, he holds you through it. He makes sure to keep you up right.

You feel lightning strike within you, the storm of euphoria swirling in the pit of your stomach. You let go all over his fingers, and thoroughly coat his hand with your release. He goes in for more, sliding his fingers down as if they’re going to dip inside you, but you whine in protest.

“Leon… don’t wanna wait anymore,” you whimper.

He chuckles at your impatience and shakes his head.

“You talk about it like you’ve been waiting forever when it’s only been a couple minutes,” he teases.

“Feels like forever,” you pout.

He kisses your frown and pulls your underwear off completely. He then turns you around on his lap to face him.

“You ready for the real thing then?” he breathes, smirking at your quick confirmation.

He boosts his hips off the couch and shoves his pants down enough so that his cock can spring free. It bobs up in anticipation. His hand grasps it, sliding it against your entrance.

After a few teasing swipes, he sinks you down on it, savoring every small change in your expression. Your eyes flutter, your mouth lolls open slightly, your brows furrow.

“Oh, I can tell that’s what you’ve been needing,” he whispers, guiding your hips into a rhythm.

You bounce up and down on him, breathy moans escaping you with each rise and fall.

“Mhm, wanted it for so long,” you whine.

His eyebrow raises at that. “Yeah?” he grunts, sharply inhaling as you squeeze around him, “How long? How bad did you want it?”

“So bad. Wanted it for months,” you confess as your head falls back, “Wanted to be yours instead.”

He knows he’s going to hell for the rush of satisfaction that floods his veins. He doesn’t falter though, just pulls you closer and starts thrusting up into you.

“Oh, did you? Dirty secret, baby, but I can’t say I didn’t feel the same way,” he moans before reconnecting his mouth with yours, “Sweet baby like you, wanted you to be all mine.”

A quick moan leaves you, and you keep riding. Your hips roll up and down, working him as deep into you as he can go. Your arousal drips down his heavy balls, making a mess where the two of you connect.

“Dreamed about you sometimes,” you gasp, letting it all out.

His eyes droop with more desire. They shouldn’t, but your revelations only spurred him on. He thrusts up harder and digs his fingers into the flesh of your hips.

“Yeah? Bet you felt so guilty waking up soaked between your legs for someone you couldn’t have,” he says, vision trained on you, “I felt the same way. Hard as a rock for you and no relief.”

“Now there is,” you whimper as you lean down and nuzzle your face against his.

With hot breaths in each other's face, you both feel the cords of release being pulled taut. You bite your lip, and he cages you in against his body, keeping you flush against him.

“Even with that dirty little secret, you’re still such a good girl. Need you to be my good girl,” he mumbles in your ear before moaning, hips tensing as he feels the sweeping sense of euphoria.

You nod dumbly as your own high creeps up on you. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum,” you whine before burying your face into his shoulder. Your hands clutch at his biceps, digging little crescents into the muscle.

He fucks you through it, making you see stars and keeping them suspended in your sights. You cling to him and clamp around him. His thrusts get sloppy, but he won’t stop until you’re coming down. That’s when he finally pulls out and gives himself a few strokes to completion, finishing on your ass. He figured you were on the pill, but he wasn’t going to make a riskier chance an even bigger risk.

You feel the warm liquid dripping down the curve of your ass. You’re too fucked out to be concerned with clean up right now though. He smiles down at you and gives you some kisses as a way to cool you off.

Reaching over to the end table, he grabs a few tissues and swipes away the small mess on your backside. After some more soothing affection, the two of you briefly readjust your clothing and get comfy with each other again. He figured this probably wasn’t the best thing he could be doing in this situation. He just fucked his son’s ex and now he was going to cuddle her too? But he does it anyway because it was what you needed, and that was his mind’s priority at the moment.

He thinks about leaving though, reverting to the original plan. He could let you doze off and just slip away. But he doesn’t. You’re too sweet, and you’re hurting. He didn’t want to pile on, but the idea that this shouldn’t develop into more than a passionate fuck still lingers in his mind..

That is until he hears your voice.

“Are you gonna leave?” you ask softly.

He looks down, heart aching at the sight of you.

“Not yet,” he answers.

“Ok good,” you say and sink into him again, “I might need you again later. In case I get sad again.”

He rolls his eyes at your attempt to play innocent. “Guess I’m stuck here then. Can’t have you crying all alone,” he says.

“Mhm,” you hum, leaning up to give him a kiss. One of the sweetest kisses he’d ever had. And just like that, you’re luring him back in.

“You know… maybe I should be proactive, make sure you don’t get the chance to be sad again today…” he murmurs, shifting to lay down on the couch and give you some kisses of his own. “Think you need some more distracting.”

He was done for.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #resident evil x you #smut

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yanderestarangel · 1 year ago

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HEADKANONS MORTAL KOMBAT | "WHAT IS THE SEXUAL DIFFERENCE WITH THE S/O OF THE TWO JOHNNY CAGE?"

TW: afab anatomy, aggressive sex, age gap, fluff, v!sex, degradation, possessive sex, red flags, dilf johnny cage, mk1 and mk11 canon spoilers, pet names, smut, daddykink.

↺ OLD JOHNNY CAGE - MK11 ↺

He is the typical hot dilf man you meet at the grocery store buying groceries and talking about how expensive they are, starting a conversation with you in line while working up the courage to ask you out, but forgetting to ask for your number.

OLD!JOHNNY CAGE - would take it slow with you not wanting to scare you, his company was relaxing and calming, making you feel safe and secure. He likes to tell dad jokes, after all, he is one, but he wouldn't mind going out with you, someone who is practically his daughter's age, after all, he knows he's better than a lot of young guys out there. He is a man who lived a lot, after his marriage and death he knew how to act and how to really please his partner.

He would talk to you on the phone sometimes before the date, just to get to know you even more.

OLD!JOHNNY CAGE - will pick you up at home with his car, it's not something luxurious, after all, he became detached from luxury as soon as he married Sonia and joined the military.

He would take you to a fine restaurant in the city, being a gentleman pulling out the chair for you to sit, and making you comfortable enough to talk to him. He wouldn't bring up the subject of Sonia's death, because it was a painful subject, he would always love her, but now he had to move on with his life, and if you wanted, it could be with you.

He knows he's seductive, even though he's 56 years old, he looks much younger too, always wearing shirts that expose his physique, especially his biceps, but he does it naturally, with a heartthrob charm, something he knows well be.

He likes to buy you dinners, being a gentleman, not out of pride but because he likes to see your smile on your face, but if you want to be independent go ahead, he likes people with attitude.

OLD!JOHNNY CAGE - would make you an announcement like "Hey, we've been hanging out together for a while, how about making it official sweetie? Will you be my boyfriend/girlfriend?" -He just said, looking at you, while taking a promise ring out of his pocket, giving you the choice of whether it was his or not. If you say "yes" get ready for a crazy ride with a crazy hot old man.

OLD!JOHNNY CAGE - is a man with an above average libido for his age, he knows how to take care of you, loving to eat out, especially if you call him "my old man" he took that nickname for himself, so you can expect Johnny discreetly rubbing his hips against you with his pulsing cock full of semen, ready to fill you up, while whispering softly in your ear: "-Fuck baby, look what you did to your old man... Making my cock hard like that , you know Daddy is going to fuck you now right?”

OLD!JOHNNY CAGE - is a soft dom, he likes to dominate you, see you whimper beneath him, but he will always prioritize your pleasure first, always working on your clitoris with his mouth and fingers - he knows how to suck extremely well, curling his fingers inside gives your pussy, even if you like it, doing a tongue job on your ass, he also loves anal, so if you let him, he will fuck you in all the holes, with a constant rhythm, dominant but affectionate -

You won't get a punishment from him, don't even try, he's a trained man, if you try to make him jealous so he can fuck you roughly - even moaning another name in bed won't help - Johnny will just laugh and shrug his shoulders -

"-Baby, I'm too old for this, it won't help, if you want me to be ruder, just say ok?" -Cage would say, smiling at you while winking, it was true, if you wanted aggressive sex, just say so, but your dilf boyfriend would guarantee that you wouldn't be able to walk for a long time.

He likes to praise you during sex, not being a big fan of degradation, but if you want, he can mix the two.

"My beautiful little slut"

"You're a good slut with a beautiful pussy, you know that?"

"Such a naughty prince/princess... I love your little pussy in my fucking cock..."

"Yes take my dick like the good boy/girl you are."

He likes to cum all over you, breasts, ass, pussy, belly, thighs and face, everything needs to be properly marked for him.

OLD!JOHNNY CAGE - who likes to fuck you in every corner of the house, lifting you in his arms while he hits your hard dick against your clitoris, making you squirm on his dick - he's vasectomized, meaning you don't need to worry in getting pregnant by him - he will fill you with cum, praising you for taking everything he gave you - "-Yes... my good boy/girl, taking all your old man's cum with that beautiful pussy, you deserve a reward you know? " -

↺ NEW JOHNNY CAGE - MK1 ↺

He is much softer in personality, he likes to see everything with joy in his eyes, even if they are serious matters. He would be the kind of guy you would randomly talk to on the subway, and yes, he did bring up the subject with you while smiling and lowering his sunglasses to get a better look at you.

NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - would get your number quickly, saying that you two can go out one day if you want - he doesn't really care if you recognize him as a movie actor or not, he liked you as a person and wants to get to know you a lot better - And in a few weeks of conversation, he will already be in love with you, waiting for your call or notification from you, he will bother you a lot too, more than 30 messages in less than 2 hours if you don't respond to him.

NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - will pick you up at your door in a luxurious sports car, saying that he got your address from a friend from the FBI - Yes, it was Kenshi - and that he was going to take you shopping with him, you hadn't even showered yet.

NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - will give you a prince/princess day, buying everything you want, without hesitation. He was also going to use the opportunity to vent about how he felt after the divorce with Cris, while smiling looking at you, mentally thanking you for having you in his life, he is a lonely man, even with some friends, he feels empty, probably because of his daddy issues, but he won't show weakness to you, at least not at first.

NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - who will beg you to sleep in his mansion, having a "girls night" with him and you watching several cliché films - films even from the beginning of his career - while he and you walk around in silk pajamas combining for the mansion. He also likes to take care of himself, that is, get ready to take care of his hair, whether it's helping him moisturize, coloring his hair or giving him skin care. Johnny will also let you test your makeup skills on him, taking lots of photos with weird and silly filters afterwards.

He will also ask you to be a boyfriend/boyfriend much quicker, a few dinners and caresses later and Johnny will be on your feet. His proposal will be in person, with him holding a big bouquet of roses and winking at you in a cheesy way, but he was visibly nervous, shaking and sweating a little, especially his bottom lip.

"-I wanted to do this in person (Y/N)... I just- fuck-" Johnny tries to speak, still nervous, while taking a few breaths, finally recovering his posture. "-Will you date me?" He finally continues the request, nervous and afraid of rejection, but if you accept him he will let out a sigh of relief, and then you will have to calm him down, because he will be pale from being so nervous.

NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - He fucks you slowly the first few times, soft jazz music played in the background of the five-star hotel room you were staying in that weekend, it was the first time you had sex, and he was controlling himself so as not to hit you hard On the mattress, he felt his hips sway with each sweet moan that left your lips, he held you tighter and started to pick up the pace even more. His eyes were closed and he seemed to feel the heat rising inside him. His moans were driving him crazy.

"-Oh Lord..." Johnny Cage whispered, as if he wanted you to hear how good you made him feel, he held your hands tightly and started moving even faster. His breathing was heavy. "-Please...tell me to go faster baby, please."

NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - Who is extremely jealous, you can't make him jealous, this will end with Johnny having aggressive possessive sex with you, holding your head against the mattress with expensive sheets, slightly suffocating you. His pulsing cock was pounding into your uterus at a punishing and painful pace. "-Look at you (Y/N)." he sneered, his voice full of disdain.

"-A pathetic, desperate slut, begging for release. Did you honestly think you could find satisfaction with anyone other than me? That anyone else could make you feel the way I do?" -He turned you around, forcing you to face him, Johnny was sweaty, his gaze was pure hatred and jealousy. "-You disgust me" he spat in your face as he took your lips in an aggressive kiss that left you breathless, his tone full of contempt. "-You thought you could show off your body and tempt others? Thinking you could get away with it? No, my precious, there are consequences for your actions." Cage accelerated the movements of his dick in your wetness, while he growled between moans, taking his hands to your breasts and squeezing them.

NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - who likes a bit of everything, you can pin him with your wrists to the bed, and use his dick for your pleasure, with his mouth gagged with your panties, watching you enjoy him, while he begs for you, so you can let him cum inside the heat of your pussy, tearing up as he looks at you, whimpering against the fabric in his mouth.

NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - who even though he loves seeing you on top, loves even more being a hard!dom and fucking you with all the accumulated lust he has, hitting his dick on your pussy, rubbing the tip of his fat dick on your clitoris to make you squirm, who loves to run his hand over the bulge that his dick makes in your belly, while he enters your pussy and makes you tremble, he loves to degrade you, making you always be his submissive.

"-Look at you, completely wet, just begging for my cock."

"-Come for me. Show me how much you want my cock, how much you need me to fill you like the submissive whore you are."

"-I'm the only one who can use and pleasure that sweet pussy of yours."

"-You're nothing but a whore to me." "

"-Fucking hell- Yes... You're nothing but a pathetic little whore, begging for someone to fuck you, a pretty, pathetic whore for my dick."

"-That beautiful mouth of yours was made for just one thing: to give me pleasure. To worship every inch of my cock."

NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - Who will fuck you on top of the piles of money he earned, spread out on the mattress, messy - wolf of wall street style - while you feel the dollar bills scratch you, while he smiles at you, holding your thighs while your pussy swallows him. "-What will you want baby? a car? a Versace bag? another house in Malibu? anything you want, just moan and talk to daddy in that pretty voice, and I'll give you everything you want my prince/ Princess." He went back to fucking you, watching your breasts bounce as the money bills scattered across the floor, and you moaned in response to him.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

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sandwitchstories · 15 days ago

Text

Hello, Hello! This little scene of Mouse and her Papa has been bouncing around in my head for a few days now, so I had to get it out of my system!

For more adventures with Mouse and Dad!Sukuna, check out my Daddy Duty Series on my AO3 - Here! )

If you prefer to read on AO3 click here !

Author's Note: For anyone new to my Dad!Sukuna Series, Mouse is Sukuna's, currently, 2 year old daughter with reader.

Summary: Sukuna and Mouse take a trip to the market.

WC: 600+

CW: toddler dad Sukuna, girl dad!sukuna, true form Sukuna (4 arms), it's pretty much just plain Dilf Sukuna fluff and crack, SFW in every way, just family fluff, father and daughter fluff, I love them together

Sukuna was simmering. If he didn’t love you the way he did and tolerate Uraume the way he did you both would have been scattered about in pieces. He was the King of Curses and Deadly Poisons. The strongest sorcerer alive. Tall, 4 arms, muscular and a master of hand to hand combat.

Yet the two of you didn’t think he could handle a single trip to the market with Mouse by himself. It infuriated him. She was a 2 year old. It was not that hard…

“Papa okay?” Mouse asked as she walked next to him, sensing his mood.

“I’m fine.”

He paused as Mouse ran to the side, picking a weed and bringing it back to show him and find out the name of it. About the 6th time she did it, he picked her up and put her on his shoulders, tired of answering questions. She loved the view from up there and he could keep moving at a decent speed.

But at the market… no no, she HAD to be on the ground, she would accept no less. She knew better than to scream and cry, so instead she made multiple attempts at physically escaping her father’s grasp before he set her down in sheer annoyance. They were still a short way from the market but they were going to have a talk.

He held onto the back of her outfit so she couldn’t get away as he knelt down. “Mouse, listen to me.”

“Okay, Papa,” she said, moving to hold his face and pull it down so they could touch their foreheads together. “I listening.”

“Good. When we get into the market you are to stay by my side. No matter what, you stay by my side. Am I understood?”

“Okay, Papa. I understand!” she smiled and gave him a kiss on the nose. “I stay by Papa.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiled, ruffling her hair before standing to his full height. “Lets go.”

When they got to the market Mouse’s eyes got huge and he could swear he saw drool drip from her lips. And then… she apparently decided their entire conversation just moments before had never happened. She set to zigging and zagging through the stands of foods, smelling and looking at everything she could see.

He couldn’t find it in him to be mad. She was pretty damn cute when she came back to him, jumping up and down telling him about all the foods she saw. And then she got him.

“Papa. We try together?” she wrapped herself around his leg and looked up at him with a big smile. “Food tastes best with Papa.”

He smirked and picked her up in one arm, giving her a little chuck under the chin. “Food tastes best with you too, Mouse. I hope you brought your appetite with you. There’s lots of food to try.”

“I big hungry. Let's go!” she pumped a fist into the air.

“That’s my girl!”

_________________________

It was late afternoon when the two returned home from the market with absolutely nothing you asked them to get, stomach aches from eating too much and both needing a nap after dealing with the general public. You sighed, hands on your hips and shaking your head as you saw the two of them curled up in bed sound asleep. Like father, like daughter.

A small pouch on the nightstand caught your attention. You walked over and picked it up. On top was a note written in Sukuna’s beautiful handwriting. (The man took pride in every single thing he did down to his handwriting. It was impeccable.)

Y/N- As if I would forget about you. - Me

“Such a sap,” you smiled at the bed, feeling butterflies in your stomach. Sukuna was many things. And among them were being a good father, and a wonderful husband. He was a prickly pain in the ass, but gods did you love him. You just… wished he had gotten the items on the damn list…

#sandwitchstories #mouse's mini-verse #dad sukuna #dilf sukuna #soft sukuna #sukuna fluff #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen x you #girl dad sukuna #i love them together you guys

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minoment · 1 year ago

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Ughhh what about any sub character begging for me to breed them after something turned them on while I’m reviewing and writing reports

u know HOW PPL LOOK SO MUCH GOOOOODDDD IN A SUIT (drools)

and me being the insanely NICE individual I would probably make them wait the entire time maybe cockwarm me??

Then I would probably breed them until they pass out and make them scream so fucking hard that they couldn’t even make noise for a week and walking got threw out the door eons ago

I PROMISE IT’S BECAUSE OF THE SUIT AND DEFINITELY NOT BECAUSE I’M SO FUCKING STRESSED AND THEY LOOK SO GOOD BEGGING

The way I instantly thought of Aaron Hotchner

He seems to be the type to grunt and whimper, occasionally groaning; especially if you're jerking him off in his office. Once you get home and you have him to yourself, he's moaning and begging for you.

THE THINGS I WANT TO DO TO THIS MAN HE HAD NO RIGHT LOOKING THIS GOOD IN A SUIT.. I love dilfs so fucking much bro

Warnings: sub aaron, dom reader, true gn reader, very lovey dovey sex, aaron and reader being absolutely WHIPPED for each other, reader can have a dick or a strap, mild begging, implied morning sex, cockwarming, grinding, implied overstimulation

You sat in your home office, reviewing a few case files from the past few weeks. The door opened quietly and then shut, Aaron's gentle footsteps being heard as he walked over to you. He placed his warm hands on your shoulders and you leant back into his touch.

"Hey.." he said quietly, looking down at what you were occupied with. "You want to take a break?"

"I'm sorry baby I can't.." You hummed gently rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb. "I have to review these for Strauss.."

Aaron made a soft noise of disapproval, pulling back your office chair and practically pulling himself into your lap. You were both big, barely fitting in the desk chair as he situated himself over your crotch. You sighed, still seeing him in his work suit.

"What do you need Aaron?" You murmured, cupping his cheek and running your thumb over his lower lip.

"You.." He replied concisely, practically demanding.

"Honey I have to work.." You sighed, pulling him down into a soft kiss.

"Please..." He asked, looking down at you with those eyes of liquid chocolate. It made your heart squeeze and your stomach do flips even though you had been together for years. You sighed.

"Fine.. pants off baby. You can keep me company while I work." You unbuckled your own belt as he removed his lower clothing as fast as he could.

He was already half hard as you slid inside him, the remnants of this mornings lube coming in handy. Aaron moaned softly in your ear, snuggling into your neck as he waited patiently for you to finish your task. Your girth made his muscled thighs shake, and every so often he would grind down onto you as he let out soft 'a-ah's of satisfaction.

Eventually you would finish up, man handling him over your desk after you had cleaned up. Aaron often made a mess and a conversation with Strauss about 'suspicious stains on the report' was not one you were willing to have.

You set a deep, hard pace, your thrusts reaching every spot inside him. He was grasping onto your desk, moaning out low, gravelly strings of 'thank you' and 'I love you so much'.

"I love you too, sweet boy.." you grunted, rutting your hips sharply into him. It was true and you wouldn't stop until he was shooting blanks over your desk and limping to work the next morning.

#dom reader #sub character #sub criminal minds #sub aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader #aaron hotch smut #sub hotch #sub!hotch #sub hotchner #mino chats //

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liquidorcard · 1 month ago

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Think you can take a look on this video on villains like Magneto? To say she misses the point is an understatement.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YouOhoCDVkw&pp=ygUUbGlseSBvcmNoYXJkIG1hZ25ldG8%3D

Oh fuck I saw the thumbnail of this video manifest a few times and I avoided watching it because I knew it was going to make me mad.

I'm going to do this one as a "real time reaction." Unlike the Harley video, I'm going in blind. Might edit a bit after I'm done writing it all out, but.

Lily Commits Elder Gay Mutant Abuse, feat. "Eldritch Lily" (Part 1)

[Part 2] [Part 3]

Get ready DILF fuckers. We 'bout to go to war for our beloved magnet man.

youtube

-0:30: Lily rambles about dumb bullshit to do with tropes, and fandom, and inventing problems. . . Oh my god, why.

So like, right at the beginning here she's just . . . Making noise? Waisting oxygen? I THINK what she's trying to say is people like tropes . . . And that's illegal if it isn't the tropes she likes . . . I don't . . . Lily.

She's using way too many words to say, in essence, I presume, Magneto is dumb, "fanboys" just like him because they like "sympathetic villians." But her rational here is a degree of reductive it makes it almost impossible to respond to. Lily is arguing against a theoretical hivemind of a strawman from another dimension - totally divorced from the one the rest of us live in.

I may hazard a guess that I, conceptually, as someone who both likes sympathetic antagonists and likes Magneto, am from Lily's point of view a part of this "fandom" hivemind she's hallucinating.

I don't know what to say to that other than, no Lily. No. That's not why I like Magneto. I am much more likely to enjoy sympathetic antagonists, as that is my personal taste. I am less likely to enjoy mustache twirling cartoon villans, for as it were, that is not my personal taste. But that is not the beginning and the end of my preferences. Bby grill, I don't know what to tell yah.

Also, a "sympathetic villian/antagonist" isn't really so much a trope as it is a description. I understand why like, TV tropes and for other cataloging purposes the definition of "trope" gets stretched a bit-- however. It's like calling "first person limited" a trope.

-1:21: Lily's "favorite villains,"

I try not to roast Lily on her just strictly expressing her personal taste (when she's not trying to argue her personal taste is superior), but considering the topic of the video-- I gotta laugh. Lily's examples for villains she likes is that one fucker from Kingdom Hearts who's only notable trait compared to the rest of the antagonists is him not being an evil twink (or Pete, or Maleficent) and the Lich King.

I have played at least most of the Kingdom Hearts games. I played WoW when Wrath came out. I played the Warcraft games where he was originally introduced as Arthas.

I guess I can see in a very superficial way why Lily identifies with Fabio Night's King maybe . . . Hot Topic Heidelberg though, I'm at a loss. I can't even remember his name, and I don't care to look it up.

-1:30: "Sympathetic villains are a double edged sword [ . . . ] you can only make them so sympathetic before their status as a villain starts to be questioned."

Might as well bring this up now-- Lily is currently engaging with one of my all-time pet peeves with media discussion: calling all antagonists "villains."

I try to be careful as to when I correct people on this. I don't like nitpicking the language people use. If their meaning is getting across just fine, what ever. I don't want to make them feel stupid for confusing to very similar concepts. Sometimes, my brain shits out too, and I use a suitable substitute even if it's not exactly the right word for the thing I'm trying to refer to. Everyone does it sometimes.

However, villains and anotagonists aren't the same thing. The exact definition as to what makes a character a true "villain" is very subjective-- more often than not vibes based. Where as an antagonist is very concretely the protagonist's foil and/or a source of external conflict. A villain is more defined by the framing, an antagonist is identified by their utility in a narrative. You can have protagonists who are arguably villains and antagonists who are arguably heroes as well. Stories where there isn't enough moral framing and judgment either way, so the protagonist and the antagonist can't really be described as heros or villains. Before we get into discussing whether or not Magneto is truly a "villain" or not, I have to point out Lily's confusing those two concepts. I'm going to surmise the majority of her arguments in this video could have been dismissed if she understood the difference.

So, yes, if you make a villain too sympathetic, they're no longer a villain . . . They're just the antagonist.

I also need to preface all this by saying that Magneto is a particularly complicated case in this regard. He's been around as the "Malcom X" analog in the very messy civil rights allegory of the mutants since the 1960s. He has, in a lot of ways, mirrored the very challenging feelings people have had towards more aggressive and violent forms of activism.

I don't think iterations of Magneto where the narrative condemns his methods outright are wholly invalid-- though I have personally soured towards them. That doesn't align with my perception of what Magento represents. And on a narrative perspective, I think it's always more interesting when the moral question as to whether the X-Men/Charles's position is correct or the BoM/Erik's position is correct is left as ambiguous as possible for the audience to decide for themselves. I think both forms of activism Charles and Erik represent are equally flawed as they are important. Fighting for civil rights is a thing of chaos historically, and there's no real clear "right answer" in most circumstances. A lot of messy incoherence of effort and resistance that slowly over time collectively move the dial-- often in a round-about way.

It also doesn't help that most non-comic reader's perceptions of Magneto are so heavily colored by the movies. As much as the ever effervescent Sir Ian Mekellen elevates that version of the character with his outstanding performance. . . That Magneto is a much messier bitch than his comic counterpart. Much less calculated and considerate in his violence. Same thing overall by the Michael Fassbender version, though he's characterized a little better.

I feel it's pretty safe to assume Lily's going to be arguing mostly against her vague memory of Fox movies while confidently being wrong about the comic version being the same.

Oh my god we're fucking 2 minutes in.

1:52: "It's a very dated metaphor for racism in the 60s, and the film are a very dated metaphor for LGBT youth in the 2000s."

Sorry, we're nitpicking Lily's word choices again. She's getting allegory and metaphor confused. The X-Men are intended as an allegory-- traditionally. Not always, but traditionally.

And as a blanket statement I'm sort of in agreement with her . . . But also not really. Again, the X-Men have been around for so long there's a diverse range in the ways the civil rights analog has been handled. I think typically the mutants are at their best when they are being treated more as a metaphor than an allegory, and for no real specific civil rights issue. Something more organic to the Marvel universe itself the audience can take away from as a meditation in a none-direct one-to-one.

My favorite X-Men Rogue is a character I deeply identify with on multiple layers personally as a queer person, a survivor of abuse, someone who's had struggles with both platonic and romantic intimacy. There's a lot of ways someone could connect with her that aren't direct translations of who she is in canon.

Also, the 2000s Fox movies was not the first time the X-Men were interpreted as a queer allegory instead of a racial one. I can't tell you when the first time was, if there is an official "first time" as POC and LGBTQ+ rights issues have overlapped quite a few times-- but the Legacy Virus was quite literally mutant AIDS. Unambiguously.

I'll sort of agree with Lily, just a little, as a treat here-- a fair bit of X-Men shit is real dated.

-2:32: "Now while Magneto was around since the 60s, this wasn't an established part of his character until about 1980s. 10 years after the man who created him Jack Kurby left Marvel."

UM, ACTUALLY.

Magneto wasn't always a holocaust survivor-- that is true. Quickly googling it, that element of Magneto's backstory was first established in Uncanny X-Men in 1981. Some part of me feels like it was at least hinted at earlier, but let's just call that about right. It doesn't really matter.

This quote from Jack Kurby is so ubiquitous I knew I could find it just by going to Magneto's Wikipedia page:

"I saw my villains not as villains. I knew villains had to come from somewhere and they came from people. My villains were people that developed problems." -- Jack Kurby, Jack Kurby Collector #22

Not a surprise but, this tells me Lily is not familiar with Kurby's work as a whole.

And guess what, this wasn't the quote I was looking for, but it was right underneath, and the source checks out:

"[Stan Lee] did not think of Magneto as a bad guy. He just wanted to strike back at the people who were so bigoted and racist...he was trying to defend the mutants, and because society was not treating them fairly he was going to teach society a lesson. He was a danger of course...but I never thought of him as a villain." --Marvel Spotlight: Uncanny X-Men 500 Issues Celebration, pp. 5-7

You're now arguing against BOTH Magneto's daddies, Lillian.

3:16: " 'You're just one bad day away from being me' - Erik Killmonger, probably"

Oh haha yes Lily so funny you put the Punisher line but said it was Killmonger, that's so funny--

EXCEPT THAT QUOTE IS A REFERENCE TO THE JOKER'S FAMOUS MONOLOG IN THE KILLING JOKE. LILY NOT AGAIN WITH THIS, OH MY GOD, YOU'RE GOING TO ACTUALLY KILL ME. JUST ADMIT YOU HAVE NOT READ A FUCKING COMIC EVER.

3:28: "Where even though Magneto has long since stopped being a Villian in the comics. . ."

According to Lily's definition of "villain," that is not true. As in, he's still mostly used as an antagonist. And he was arguably never really a villain, he's just become less villianized, evolving with our cultural perception of activism-- but I'll give Lily this one.

3:30: " . . . in film adaptations, he's still a holocaust survivor, and still the bad guy for no reason."

LILY ARE WE TALKING ABOUT THE FUCKING COMICS OR THE MOVIES!? I take issue with how Erik is characterized in the movies too, especially in the Bryan Singer (fuck him btw, he's a predator, look it up) movies. BUT YOU'RE ALL OVER THE PLACE HERE LILY, GOD DAMN. Is Magneto as a concept bad, or do you not like the FoX-men movies, which is it!?

3:49: [The prelude to the Kevin Bacon coin murder from First Class.]

Lily, people criticized the choice to make Charles argue with Erik here and how it's framed when this movie came out. Who are you arguing with?

With the themes of the movie they tried to play the angle of Charles' more privileged life giving him the luxury of the pacifist position that Erik does not have. I really like this in concept, this has been explored before in other X-Men media, but they fumbled the bag here with the framing. There's some issues with the cinematic language used. I don't blame people for getting the impression you're supposed to wholly side with ol' Chuck here, even if the text implies otherwise. I agree with her that this is a problem with mainstream films overall havin' a hard time kicking bad habits from the Hays Code.

But that's not really the argument She's making. I don't know if Lily knows what argument she's making.

God forgive me I am at the four minute mark and this post is already this long. Okay, I'm gunna have to split this up into 2 or 3 posts. I'll add the various links to each part as I finish them to each post. Lily gishgallops this fucking badly. . . Stay tuned for part 2.

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mydisenchantedeulogy · 11 months ago

Text

Dying Light [Chapter Four] Live or Die [Bi-Han/Sub-Zero]

Tag list: @genesiswrld, @cherryblossomly, @dilf-destroyer-04, @louis2gobrrn, @umbransister

Warning(s): family drama, female reader insert, uncertainty, Bi-Han being Bi-Han (and perhaps a little nice), ambush, violence, death, gore, sadness, fear of the unknown.

No Minors Allowed!!

For an instant, upon waking up, you forget that you did not go to bed alone. The shift of the mattress sends a jolt of fear down your spine and you turn in haste to see Bi-Han rising from the bed.

You sigh in relief.

That's right. I'm married now.

This statement feels odd. You are not convinced that it will ever feel right on your tongue. Lying on your back, you stretch your tense muscles, and then reluctantly you leave the warm confines of the bed.

You have no idea what time it is but if Bi-Han is awake, then it must be early in the morning. He looks like the type to have an internal clock. Whether this turns out to be a hindrance or not later is uncertain. A few more hours of sleep would be nice though.

Sauntering over to the vanity, you sit down to get ready. Bi-Han, in the meantime, disappears behind the divider to redress; the innocent action elicits the memory of his bare chest.

I have never seen a man so big. Is that all muscle?

Ignoring the desire to touch him and find out, you continue with the task at hand. Yet, the silence feels more awkward to you than it should. You know that you should talk to him, but you do not know about what.

“What is Arctika like?” You ask hesitantly. It is the first question that comes to mind.

“Cold,” Bi-Han merely states.

You hum, already aware. It reminds you though that you need to dress suitably for the trip.

“Is it that bad?”

At this point, all you want is to continue a conversation with him to avoid the awkward silence. It honestly feels like the morning after a heated tryst that both of you want to forget.

“You will not find solace in Arctika if you are not fond of the cold,” Bi-Han states.

You sigh. The same can be said about this marriage. Deciding that you look fine enough, you saunter over to the closet for a warm outfit. In your hunt, a makeup kit sitting on the top shelf that your mother had gifted you suddenly catches your attention.

“You had best get used to this. Men are fickle. A beautiful woman will keep their interest. You do not want your soon-to-be husband to drag in strays, do you?”

You frown. Is this the sort of thing that matters to your husband? A woman dolled up to his liking. You suppose a little makeup can not hurt. You take the kit down, carrying it and the outfit back to your vanity.

“I'm changing,” you state, as you carry the items back to the vanity. While it is true that you are married, you do not want to expose yourself to Bi-Han, at least not if you can help it.

Quickly, you change, and then you sit down to put on the makeup.

Out of respect for you, or so you assume, you hear Bi-Han clear his throat. A moment later, he emerges from behind the divider, dressed in his twilight blue tabard and silver-lined mask. Tied to his sash is a jewelry bag, embellished with the double happiness symbol. The only reason you acknowledge it is because during the ceremony it was used to store the red line that connected your hair with his.

Why is he wearing it though?

Your face heats up, and to make matters worse, Bi-Han is observing you as you paint your lips, as though you are showing off your magic to him again. It is uncomfortable. But it reminds you that you need to tie your amulet onto your person before you leave.

Once done, you stand and saunter over to him.

“If you are hungry, breakfast should be about ready. I will join you later in the courtyard when your brothers arrive.”

You step toward the door, but a hand on your arm halts you; the grip is rather rough. Turning, you glance at Bi-Han in confusion.

“The route to Arctika is arduous. I suggest you eat.”

You understand his concerns, if they are concerns that he is expressing. Wincing at his grip, you remove his hand from your arm.

“I need to oversee some things first, then I will eat.”

Bi-Han narrows his eyes but he does not remark. Instead, he pushes past you and leaves the room. You sigh. At least you can relax for a moment. His presence makes you feel a bit uneasy.

Right. Well–

You glance around the room. Since it is last minute, there is a lot you must leave behind. For the next hour, you and a handful of servants carefully go through your room, selecting what must go.

When you are satisfied, you allow them to pack the items as you excuse yourself. Walking to the dining room, a retainer emerges, rushing toward the front door. You raise a brow but as your parents and Bi-Han walk out, your curiosity is sated.

They must be here.

An air of unease surrounds you, but you follow quietly behind Bi-Han to the inner courtyard where a group of Lin Kuei trudges in, toting chests. Two men wearing masks, dressed in similar attire to the Grandmaster led them; one wore dark grayish-blue while the other wore dark orange with brown tones. The latter looks more like Bi-Han, you note.

Approaching, they both bow.

“My brothers,” Bi-Han points out. “Kuai Liang and Tomas.”

The brother with a tattoo of a scorpion on his bicep stands first, motioning to the crates.

“These gifts are from our clan to yours in honor of the union.”

“The Lin Kuei hope you appreciate them,” Tomas finishes.

Your father grins.

“Indeed we do.”

You nearly turn up your eyes. Not even a thank you for their efforts, even if the bridal gifts were expected. You step out from behind Bi-Han and offer a smile.

“Thank you for the gifts.”

Kuai Liang nods briefly in gratitude, while Tomas lifts his brows. You are not sure you are what they had expected, but in the end, it does not matter.

With the pleasantries aside, the Lin Kuei haul the chests into the main house, overseen by the retainers. Bi-Han leaves your side to talk with his brothers, giving you the chance to say goodbye. Your heart races as you face your parents.

“I hope this union is what you truly want.”

Your father frowns.

“You are doing our clan a tremendous honor. Do not choose now to act like a brat.”

Is he serious? You glance at your mother, who despite appearing sympathetic, does not come to your defense. Tears burn your eyes.

“This is no longer my clan. You both are to blame for that.”

I hope the money is put to good use because it will not last forever, you opt not to mention. You are sure that they already know this, however.

Turning your back to them, you stand straight, trying not to show them your sorrow. As much as you want to go off on them, you know it will not matter. Their minds are made. You belong to Bi-Han and the Lin Kuei now.

Speaking of the Lin Kuei, Kuai Liang approaches you and bows.

“If your affairs are in order, Madam, I will escort you to the carriage.”

Your face heats up. He does not need to call you madam, but you understand why he must.

“My belongings–”

“Tomas will see to them,” Kuai Liang interrupts.

You are grateful.

“I'm done here.”

The tattooed man nods and motions for you to follow him. He leads you from the courtyard to the gate where a horse-drawn carriage sits. You hum. Is this how you will make it to Arctika?

“Your belongings will be loaded momentarily, then we will depart,” Kuai Liang mentions.

You nod. In the meantime, you hesitantly approach the chestnut-colored Heihe and pat it on the chest. It is a gorgeous horse. It does not take your mind off the confrontation with your parents but it is a welcomed distraction.

Kuai Liang waits silently by your side for the remainder of the time until the carriage is loaded, then once the Grandmaster and the newly recruited fighters emerge, he leaves you to attend to other matters.

You are shocked to see your master walk out with them. She gives you a sincere smile as she approaches.

“You should not stress yourself–”

“Hush child,” she interrupts. “I am not so feeble that I can not come to wish you a safe journey.”

You smile, then out of respect, you give her one last bow.

“Thank you for everything. I will not forget what you have taught me.”

She laughs.

“Be sure that you do not.” She pauses to reach into the sash around her waist, taking out a book. “Take this with you. It will provide some entertainment for you on your way to your new home.”

You frown. Why do you feel uneasy? Perhaps it is because of the reality of the situation.

My new home.

Taking the book from her, you fake a smile.

“Thank you.”

The sound of footsteps directs your attention to Bi-Han. He spares your teacher a look, then presses something wrapped in a cloth into your hands. It looks like a dining cloth from the table and something warm resonates from inside. You raise a curious brow, but he does not clarify.

“We are departing. The carriage is ready,” Bi-Han states.

You peek around him to see the door to the carriage open. Does he want you to get inside?

“I don't mind walking.”

Bi-Han knits his brows.

“Go. We are expected at the temple before sundown.”

Is this his way of saying ‘Don't argue with me’? You sigh. Smiling at your master, you saunter towards the carriage and slide inside near the window; the door closes behind you, and moments later, the small vehicle starts to move. You spare your former home no second glance, but your stomach twists at the thought of leaving it behind.

To take your mind off it, you open the cloth that Bi-Han gave you. Inside are three lukewarm stuffed buns.

He was serious about me eating.

Your face heats up. You aren't sure how to feel about this. Regardless, when you get the chance, you suppose you should thank him.

–

At noon, despite the sun being at its highest, the temperature is cold, though not enough that you can not tolerate it. The rocky terrain soon vanishes beneath a snow-covered landscape within a vast forest. It is stunning.

You want to get out and have a look, but it was not long ago that Bi-Han stopped the group for a rest. The next stop would be hours from now so for the being, while the weather is nice, you choose to open the window and read.

The crunch of snow draws your attention to Tomas, who treks alongside the carriage. He looks focused, so you return to your book, slowly being drawn into the story.

“What are you reading?” His youthful voice suddenly asks a few pages in. “I don't mean to interrupt.”

“Erotic romance. Are you a fan?” You tease, grinning.

He laughs. Even though he is wearing a mask, you can tell that he is smiling.

“I can not say I have read erotic romance.”

“Some of the plots are terribly cliche but humorously so,” you state.

Tomas hums.

“Humorously? I am interested.”

Even if he isn't, it is nice to have a conversation with someone where you can easily joke and laugh. The last few days have been stressful. Looking him over, you note how unique his mask is compared to the simple and elegant design of the ones his brothers have on.

“I like your mask.”

Tomas widens his eyes.

“You do?”

You nod.

“It reminds me of a gas mask from a fantasy or horror novel.”

“It does,” Tomas agrees. He pauses as if he is debating something, then he hums. “It suits my character.”

You raise a curious brow. How so? Before you can ask, the carriage suddenly jerks with such force that you are nearly tossed to the floor.

“Are you unharmed?” Tomas asks in concern, peeking through the window.

You situate yourself in the seat and nod, despite the prickle of fear surging through your body. The sound of snow crunching in all directions seems to indicate that something is wrong.

“What happened?”

“Something alarmed the horse,” Tomas answers. “Stay here.”

He leaves your side; the crunch of the snow beneath his feet gradually fades away until there is nothing but silence. You peer out the window but you can not see anyone or anything. It's too quiet. The whistle of the wind in your ears is all you can hear.

Then all at once, an inhuman scream echoes out, sending chills down your spine. What is that? The carriage jerks again, but this time it tilts straight back, tossing you into the seat. You groan in discomfort, then ease your way to the door, tossing it open.

What meets you is a bloodbath. Your eyes widen in shock. Assassins in white tabards emerge from the snow, attacking the Lin Kuei. It is an ambush.

You step out into the snow, turning to check on the state of the carriage but the horse is missing. Someone must have cut it loose. This is not good.

Searching for someone familiar amongst the cluster of people, you locate Tomas first. He seems to be faring well on his own against three foes, but what surprises you more is the plume of black smoke that surrounds him. It works as a screen as he quickly weaves in and out, slashing them with a karambit.

Does he know magic?

The echo of your name reaching above the sound of combat diverts your attention. You recognize the voice as Kuai Liangs’, but before you can turn to him, a chain weapon coils around your neck, cutting off your airway. You grab at the chain, struggling to breathe, but it only tightens; the opposite end is held by an assassin in white, slowly pulling you in. Panic settles in.

I don't–

It's live or die, you realize. These men in white have no issue killing. At least two of your clansmen, from what you could tell, are dead; two men you are sure once trained with.

Stay alive.

You shakily raise your hand, drawing a circle with your finger. A portal opens above the man and then sinks when prompted to, devouring his body from the waist up. Then you close it off. A jet of blood shoots from his severed torso and paints the snow around him red; his lower half along the chain falls.

Once you are free, you take a moment to catch your breath. That could have been much worse. No sooner than you stand, though, another man charges at you, swinging a jian at your throat. You manage to dodge, but the blade catches your shirt, slicing a long but shallow gash across your upper chest. It stings terribly; you tighten your jaw in pain.

When the man in white strikes at you again, you grab his wrist and use his momentum to yank him to the ground, disarming him. With the jian in tow, you raise it above his head, in an attempt to stab him, but someone grabs you and tosses you off him and into the snow. You glare at the second man.

At least they support one another.

You drop into a portal beneath you, coming out behind the second attacker. Leaping onto his back, you stab him in the throat and then, before he goes down, you jump into another portal, linking it to one in front of the other man. You emerge with a spinning kick and strike him in the head. He thankfully does not get back up.

That was exhausting.

You figure it will do you some good to have a weapon on hand, so you trek over to the man you struck down with the jian, yanking it from his neck with a wet squelch. You curl your nose in disgust; his blood is all over your hands.

Lost in your thoughts, you do not hear the soft footsteps closing in until it is too late. The man that you thought you had knocked out grabs your upper arm and yanks you around. But before either of you can react, a projectile pierces him in the temple, spraying you with blood.

In horror, you stare at the spear of ice that killed him. What the hell? You divert your eyes, noticing Bi-Han not far away. His arms from his gauntlet up are covered in ice.

Can he too–

A high-pitched whistle echoes across the mountains and the few assassins who are still alive quickly flee. This is not a good sign. It means that they were merely testing the Lin Kuei. But why? You sigh. What sort of feud did you get thrown into?

Shoving the jian in your sash, you gauge the damage. It appears that five of the fifteen fighters from your clan were slain, along with three of the Lin Kuei. And to make matters worse, the carriage is now without a horse. Walking over to the nearest deceased clansman, you lean down beside them, ignoring the chill of the snow as it seeps into your clothes.

“I'm sorry…I–”

You pause, not sure what to say. Should you vow to avenge them? Hunt down every last assassin in white until there are none left.

This feud is not ours.

You honestly wish this were true. The moment you married Bi-Han, your clan waged war with his enemies. But what can you do?

“Are you unharmed?” The voice of Kuai Liang asks.

You face him, humming.

“I am alive.”

He knits his brows and leans down beside you, looking you over.

“That cut requires bandaging.”

It does not hurt much anymore, but that is not saying much. You can hardly feel your fingers. Bringing your hands together, you rub them in an attempt to warm them.

“Allow me,” Kuai Liang states.

You raise a brow, watching as he lifts his hand. Suddenly, it ignites, and a warm flame dances across his skin.

“All of you can do magic,” you point out.

Why did your parents not tell you? Or Bi-Han for that matter.

“I'm awed that you know magic,” Kuai Liang states.

You have no doubt. This fact seemed to shock Bi-Han as well. Bringing your hands up to the flame, you sigh.

“Those men who attacked us. Did you recognize them?”

Kuai Liang knits his brows.

“I am–”

Before he can answer, Bi-Han storms over.

“We are regrouping and tracking those responsible.”

“Brother, the weather will only worsen,” Kuai Liang mentions. “We have injured people who need medical attention.”

Bi-Han raises his hand, pointing at him.

“You would deny this opportunity to avenge our fallen.”

“We are not prepared,” Kuai Liang simply states.

He turns his eyes to you and so too does Bi-Han. With his anger in check, you assume he notices the cut. His brows knit and he leans down to examine it further.

“Join Tomas and those capable of walking in gathering the injured. We haven't the force to pull the carriage, so it remains with the dead.”

You frown. All of your things are lost to the snow. A part of you wants to rebuke but you understand. They are minor needs after all. You can always buy more.

Kuai Liang extinguishes his fire, much to your dismay, and quietly stands, rushing off to do as told. You remain seated in the snow; your eyes drift down to the lifeless body beside you. It is not until you feel Bi-Han’s cold fingers on your neck, do you look at him.

“Your awareness needs practice,” he states.

You frown. Is this his way of showing concern?

“I have never had to kill a person before until I met you.”

It is not an attack, you just felt as if Bi-Han should know.

His eyes narrow, but he does not remark on your statement. Standing, he looks around as though he is trying to avoid looking at you.

“Can you walk?” Bi-Han asks. “It would be irksome to have to tote you up the mountain.”

“I'm sure those big muscles can handle it, but to answer your question, I can walk just fine,” you answer.

Bi-Han raises his brow, glancing at you.

“You have the energy to jest.”

You nearly snort. No, but it takes your mind off the unnecessary deaths for a moment. It does not take long for the reality of the situation to sink back in, however.

“Do you think they will attack again?”

“Not today,” Bi-Han answers honestly. “But whatever frightened the horse just might. The birds are far too quiet.”

That inhuman scream did not come from the assassins? Your eyes widen in fear. What could have caused it? Standing, you glance around. It is true, there are no birds in the area.

“Let us not remain here longer than we have to,” Bi-Han mentions.

You agree. Whatever is out here, you hope it does not make itself known.

For the rest of the journey, you can not shake the eerie feeling that something is on the hunt. If only you knew how right you were.

#mortal kombat fandom #bi han x reader #female reader insert #mortal kombat fanfiction #bi han sub zero #arranged marriage au #mortal kombat 1 #bi han mk1 #Spotify

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sapphicrow · 11 months ago

Text

RE8 Lords (+dimi sisters) Opinion on crocs!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mother Miranda

The bird mommy herself. A true lady. Gothic aesthetic and all.

I think she would be an avid croc hater

I mean, she works in a lab, closed toe shoes. They’re not very practical for experimentation or any thing else

Plus her other outfit is goddess apparel or old hag.

I just can’t see her enjoying them whatsoever. They clash with her whole vibe.

If offered, Miri would most surely wrinkle her nose and scoff at the very notion.

“Ugh. Begone, mortal. The day you goad me into those atrocities of footwear is the day I surrender my subconscious to the megamycete,” Mother Miranda waves you off with a flick of a taloned hand.

Mia left a pair in the lab once and she tried them on. They remind her.

Salvatore Moreau

Fish man!

Moreau would be a huge fan.

Seriously, he lives in constant sogginess. A pair of shoes that can fit his deformed and damp feet would be welcome.

He pads around the reservoir in crocs all the fricking time

Over time, the sound of the rubber squelch becomes associated with his approach.

He would be gifted his first pair, but soon amass a bit of a collection- his favorites are the blue pair and the black one, but he’s also got green.

(In the church) *squish squish squish squosh squish* “hi, mother!” Moreau garbles. “Like ‘em?” He asks, gesturing to the tye dye crocs currently adorning the lower half of his slimy body.

He doesn’t wear them in public after Mother Miranda glared at them though

Heisenberg

Metal bending dilf

My guy isn’t the biggest fan of crocs, they just don’t work for him

The factory is difficult enough to manage in steel toed boots. Rubber slippers are not ideal.

I think he wears them solely to meetings to piss off Mirander (it works every time)

He was approached by his nieces with a pair of solid black crocs, and they were too insistent for him to deny them entirely.

Heisenberg thinks they’re fine, simply not his cup of tea though.

“Fuck!” The lord curses, his voice echoing against the metal walls of the factory for the fiftieth time. “Damn pieces of junk.” Heisenberg mutters after dropping a piece of scrap onto his croc bearing toes once more.

Alcina Dimitrescu

No.

Just no.

Absolutely not.

Lady Dimitrescu , the countess, the favorite of Mother Miranda, mother of three, would not be caught dead in such apparel.

It’s less that she has an issue with their design, and much more that she’s disgusted with the thought of looking so undignified.

She wouldn’t be threatening anyone when she whips her crocs into sports mode before unsheathing her mighty claws.

Alcina doesn’t mind them on others, but not her. She’s a noble lady and far above such peasantry.

Also they don’t make them in her shoe size.

“What…” she drawls, looking scornfully down at the maiden presenting her with such blatantly hideous shoes, “are those?”

Donna Beneviento

The dollmaker and illusionist ~

Donna is chill, I’d imagine she wouldn’t have too strong an opinion on crocs

She owns a pair in black and likes to wear them around her workshop

They’re quite comfy, and since she’s not always on her feet, they serve as very nice house slippers

She likes to pair them with fluffy socks to really get the full coziness effect

Besides, her skirt is long enough where they’re not really noticeable

A quiet melody sways within the air of Lady Beneviento’s workspace. Humming to herself as she worked and Angie looked over her shoulder. Dexterous hands wield pliers to work the last bit of wire into the joints of her newest creation. And as a finishing touch, a mini croc is slid onto this doll. A small smile quirks her lips beneath the veil.

“I want some!” Angie shrieks once she sets eyes on the crocs.

Bela Dimitrescu

The eldest of the flies, and the blondest

Bela follows in her mother’s footsteps on this one, she despises crocs.

She simply doesn’t see the appeal.

They’re rubber, they’re not particularly fashionable, and they clash with the lace of her dress.

Eyeing her sister up and down, Bela just scoffs judgmentally before walking away.

Daniela Dimitrescu

Our delulu queen <3

She is the biggest crocs person ever.

She absolutely loves them, much to her sister and Mother’s dismay.

Dani just thinks they’re the coolest thing ever

You don’t have to lace them, there’s different modes, and you can decorate them??? What more could you ask for!

She had a whole wardrobe. I think she had every color. Depending on the occasion, she mixes and matches.

Dani is also big on jibbitz.

“Look!” The ginger squeals excitedly as she swarms into a maid’s face. “It’s a fly!” Dani says with a delirious giggle, shoving the new charm into the frightened woman’s vision.

Cassandra Dimitrescu

The ravenette of the trio

Cassie likes crocs a normal amount

She doesn’t own her own pair of course, the only reason she ever wears them is to snatch them from Dani and make her mad

She also delights in how Bela and her mom glare down at her whenever she wears them

All in all, Cass doesn’t wear them as a fashion choice, she wears them for the drama

“Hehehe, you’re coming with me,” Cassandra whispers to herself as she steals Daniela’s prized flamingo print crocs from her room.

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rottenpumpkin13 · 2 years ago

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Out of Context Shit Heard on the SOLDIER Floor

Angeal: Am I old enough to be considered a dilf?

Genesis: The disembodied voice in my head says I'm right so fuck you.

Essai: Whoever provided commander rhapsodos with a microphone, I wish you nothing but misery.

Sephiroth: Don't get blood on my sandwich

Zack: Maybe the true gift of the goddess is the friends we made along the way

Genesis: I'm so nauseous my insides are playing hula hoops with satan

Genesis: I have done thy mother

Sephiroth: What does "serving cunt" mean?

Kunsel: fuck this I'm quitting and becoming a nude model

Angeal: Your ass is incredible, stop selling yourself short

Sebastian: is it gay if we fist bump?

Zack: I'm not on *does the splits* drugs, Angeal.

Lazard: Whoever keeps spelling my name as Director Lizard is getting dishonorably discharged

Angeal: STOP USING THE COPY ROOM TO PRINT HENTAI

Sephiroth: Every year after I turned 20 has tested my will to live

Roche: *in the showers* I have seen way too many dicks today

Luxiere: Zack, where are you going with that leaf blower??

Genesis: Sephiroth, you ignorant slut.

Zack: I just realized Zack rhymes with crack

Genesis: Why do you just assume I've done drag before??

Sephiroth: Yes, I'm fine. Why? Is this not the visage of a man who's fine??

Angeal: *to someone who sneezes* happy birthday

Zack: who wants to come gnome hunting with me???

Luxiere: he smells like mediocrity and baby powder

Kunsel: my crusade against capitalism starts now *kicks a vending machine*

Angeal: who the HECK put a banana in the printer???

Genesis: So?? Sephiroth can go Sephi-rot for all I care.

Lazard: GENESIS WHY ARE YOU COVERED IN BLOOD?

Sephiroth: *quietly eating a cookie* munch munch

Zack: Where do we go when we die??? France???

Genesis: Good morning to everyone but the asshole who was playing the saxophone at 4 AM this morning

#ffvii #genesis rhapsodos #crisis core #ff7 #crisis core headcanons #ffvii crisis core #angeal hewley #sephiroth #final fantasy 7 #ff7r #final fantasy vii #zack fair

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sonofthedunes · 4 months ago

Note

heyyy i messaged you a little bit ago asking if you still write like fanfic …. ik it’s been a week or two since i asked but i think i finally thought of a potential fic request. if you feel so inclined, my fic request would be what soft moments with dilf luke would be like. like in between jedi training and love making what would happen? how would dilf luke react to accidentally falling asleep on him/holding hands/soft intimate moments? again if you don’t like the idea/don’t wanna write it that’s totally fine, just thought i’d ask

oh hi anon!! i was wondering if i’d ever hear from you again :p i love your idea—it’s one i’ve explored before, and i do so love some soft and tender dilf luke. let’s see what i can cook up:

Looking back, you realize that it started happening little by little: tiny gestures that could be interpreted as simple human decency. Luke offers you the biggest portions of fish at dinner, but only because you need to keep up your strength; he doesn’t allow you to walk the cliffs alone at first, but only because they’re steep and he knows firsthand how dangerous they can be. Part of you is annoyed—you’re not a child, you’re perfectly capable of minding yourself. The longer this goes on, however…the more frequently he shows that he does have a heart under that gruff exterior…you grow to appreciate it. You welcome it, even.

And eventually, it dawns on you that you might love him. Not just as a master, but as a man—something he’d nearly forgotten in his solitary exile. Perhaps, you dare to hope, he feels the same way.

As it turns out, he’d been pondering the very same about you. Though even after you confess your mutual attraction, it’s difficult for him to overtly express; on some level, it’s humorous that he’ll willingly take you to his bed, but is still hesitant to take your hand. So you initiate. After joint meditation overlooking the restless sea, or while studying an ancient Jedi text, your fingers will search for Luke’s and curl around them. He doesn’t draw away, at least not anymore. Even if he pauses before returning the gesture, he returns it nonetheless. And you might fall asleep on a pillow during the nights you spend with Luke, but you often wake on his chest, his heart beating under your cheek and his breathing a steady rhythm. He hasn’t tried to shove you off or turn away. In fact, his arm is usually slung over your back. And when he blearily blinks his eyes open to see you staring up at him, his lips will quirk into the ghost of a smile…and that means more to you than a million flowery love sonnets or lavish gifts.

The road ahead is long and uncertain. Whether you can persuade him to leave this island with you someday you don’t know. But in the meantime you will learn from him, growing stronger in the Force, and in a way he might be learning from you. Learning how to open his heart, to embrace his human frailties and remember that his true strength is in his compassion. He loves you, and you love him, and the many small ways he shows this prove it.

#luke skywalker #luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker x y/n #i hope you like it anon!

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wannaeatramyeon · 2 years ago

Note

Hello 👋

I've read some of your fics and I enjoy them a lot esp Taehoon.

I wanted to ask if you could do a fic about Taehoon getting into a serious fight with his s/o and how the would try to make up with them.

Genre: angst to fluff basically.

If you don't do angst then please discard this.

Thanks either way

I'll go by Black anon

Hey black anon. Thanks for the ask and reading my brainrot 🥰 the fight isn't serious serious, the angst isn't angst angst, and the fluff isn't fluff fluff but at least the DILF makes an appearance!

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Fall out

Taehoon says it's not that serious

Hansu notices something is wrong when you didn't come round for the third day in a row.

He takes his glasses off and sighs.

"Whatever you've done Taehoon, just apologise."

"I haven't done shit, old man."

"Taehoon."

Taehoon throws his dad a scowl, before turning back and glaring at his phone.

For the last 20 minutes, he's been absentmindedly scrolling through photos of you both.

You always seem so happy in the photos. And well, you're happy in person too. But there's something special about how your eyes crinkle and face lights up. It really is worth a thousand words.

And Taehoon himself, if not candid, is usually posing with a smirk or a glare. Typical really. Yet very occasionally, in rare instances, the camera captures how he looks at you - like you're the whole world.

He wrinkles his nose at this. Are you serious? This is how he looks? Like a love sick idiot? Urgh.

God, tonight fucking sucks and this whole thing fucking sucks.

He wouldn't be in this predicament if he could just face his feelings. Who has he got to blame but himself.

Sure, you've been dating for a little while now. However the fallout happened a few days ago. You asked him to meet your parents, as most couples do; Taehoon had recoiled and dismissed you, despite how upset you were getting. He regretted the words as soon as he said them.

"But I see your dad all the time!"

"It's not the same."

"How is it not the same?"

"It just isn't."

"You can't just avoid my family forever,"

"..."

"What sort of boyfriend doesn't meet their partner's family at least once?"

"..."

"We've been together for 9 months-"

"We're not that serious."

"Oh. Right."

And you, feeling humiliated and rejected, didn't say anything else and left. You haven't spoken to him since.

Look, he knows his argument isn't ruled by logic and it doesn't make sense. Yes, you see his dad a lot but you hang around at the studio and his house a lot too. Of course you would see Hansu.

But Taehoon meeting your parents? It seems momentous. Like a huge milestone.

Like... You're someone special.

Like you're his and he's yours.

Like finally admitting that he loves-

Like knowing if he were to lose you, then it would hurt.

Or if he wasn't able to protect you, and you would be gone, then-

Well, what then.

He didn't think he had it in him to care for someone else after Dowoon. But you came along, wormed your way into his life and his heart, and now?

If anything happened, he knows he wouldnt be the same. That if you went, you would take a piece of him. That even with time, the emptiness would still never heal.

Taehoon knows his whole argument is stupid. Because all these things were true months ago and they're true right now.

That really, he upset you for no reason.

Fuck.

"Fine. FINE!" Hansu looks over at his son's outburst in surprise.

"I'll apolog- call Y/N.”

"You should get her some flowers too,"

"Dad. Shut it."

Hansu looks at Taehoon disapprovingly. Seriously, who raised this brat?

You wait on your doorstep, tapping your foot impatiently.

You're still mad at him (and embarrassed). But when could you ever say no to Taehoon? He asked to meet you, you reluctantly agreed, but this bastard hasn't even said a word yet.

"Don't interrupt," You weren't even saying anything! Taehoon throws you a glare just for good measure. But you notice the way he fidgets, and he never fidgets. He's self confident to the core.

"I didn't mean what I said. I-" did Taehoon actually gulp? "I'm serious about you. Pretty fucking serious, ok. And if meeting your family makes you happy then," he shrugs, "fine. Let's do it now."

Hold on. You think you hurt your neck from his whiplash.

You're torn between actually wanting to introduce your delinquent boyfriend finally to everyone, and wanting to grill him. It's not everyday Taehoon gets into his feelings.

The latter wins out.

"Wait," you cross your arms and continue blocking his way in, "why the change of heart?"

Taehoon glowers at you. He sees your relaxed stance, the way you have loosened up even as you're playing hard to get.

Whatever, he isn't a coward.

"You're the most important person to me. I want you to be happy."

Oh. If you weren't soft before, then you definitely are now. This man is going to be the death of you.

You reach out and pull his cheeks, smiling at him fondly. "You asshole."

"Cut it out," he bats at your hands half heartedly.

"Was that so hard?"

"Just let me in,"

"Nope!"

"Don't you want me to say hi?"

"..."

"Don't you want to introduce your boyfriend?"

"Ack. Ok, fine fine." You finally let go and move aside.

... Something catches your eyes.

"Taehoon, you bought flowers?!"

#taehoon seong #taehoon x reader #seong taehun #seong taehoon #seong taehun x reader #seong taehoon x reader #taehoon seong x reader #how to fight x reader #how to fight #how to fight manhwa #how to fight headcanons #viral hit headcanons #viral hit manhwa #viral hit webtoon #viral hit x reader

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rey-jake-therapist · 8 months ago

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Nina from Black Swan vs Will from Hannibal

Another parallel no one asked for: Black Swan and Hannibal, or more precisely, Nina and Will.

I rewatched Black Swan yesterday. And wow, it's not because I'm currently in my Fannibal era but the parallels between Nina's story and Will's just jumped straight at my face. They're so (tragically similar).

They both suffer from an illness but don't know it. For Nina, it's likely to be a mental illness that remained undiagnosed and gives her hallucinations when she's under great stress. Also she's prone to self harming, as we see several times during the movie. For Will, it's encephalitis, which under Hannibal's 'treatment' gives him similar symptoms.

They both hate themselves and express it by engaging in a process of self destruction. They're both very good at their job. To do it right, they're forced to dig deep inside themselves and confront themselves to things which existence they denied all their life. Their job slowly but surely destroys them, they know it but they refuse to stop because they believe it's the only thing that gives them a value. What drives Nina is to be 'perfect', an unreachable goal in essence; what drives Will is to save lives thanks to a gift he has, but he can't save everybody. Worse, he can't seem to be able to save himself, his 'gift' turning out to be more of a curse for him.

They both have an authoritarian figure in their life who smothers them and project their past failures on them (the creepy mother who forces her into staying a child while guilting her for being born for Nina, Jack Crawford who watches him destroy himself, and uses him in a goose chase against the Ripper for Will). Both Nina's mother and Jack Crawford treat Nina/Will as, in Hannibal's words, "their finest china, used only for special guests". There's something deeply disturbing in the way Nina's mother keeps disrespecting Nina's boundaries while she's a woman in their 20s, that's not existent with Jack Crawford (though it could be argued that when he insists that Will keeps using his empathy disorder to solve crimes even after Will clearly tells him it harms him, he also disrespects Will's intimacy in a way), but it's about the influence they have on Nina/Will. They also have in commun the fact that they know something's wrong with the person they're supposed to protect, but choose to do nothing about it because it doesn't serve their personal agenda. Nina's mother for example, knows it's not the first time that Nina engages in self harm and yet, the only thing she does is yelling at her and shaming her. Jack Crawford watches Will's mental and physical health get worse and worse, but chooses to ignore the warning signs and to pretend he believes Will when he claims he's 'fine'. When Will expresses his discomfort he's deaf to his distress and proposes him with disdain to quit, knowing that's not what Will wants.

They both have a smoking hot DILF man in their life who pushes them to accept the darkness in them. Both male figures are abusive in a different way (Thomas has no respect for Nina's boundaries, forces her to kiss him and touches her in a very inappropriate way, then humiliates her based on the idea that she's not "fuckable" enough to be the Black Swan; Hannibal manipulates Will through brutal therapy methods), but their goals are similar. Thomas feels that Nina represses a lot of things and wants her to listen to her pulsions so she can be both the White and the Black swan Queen. Hannibal feels that Will secretly enjoys killing and wants him to admit it so he can embrace his true self. Both men are... Bad men lol and they end up doing more harm than good. One could argue that without them neither Nina or Will wouldn't have learnt so much about themselves, but the price to pay came very high: Nina stabs herself during an hallucination and Will jumps off a bridge with Hannibal, to free themselves.

Both Nina and Will suffer from a similar type of hallucinations: they are face to face with a darker version of them, who sometimes takes someone else's face: the dancer Lily for Nina, Gareth Jacob Hobbs for Will. In both cases they're characters for whom they have ambivalent feelings: Nina is extremely attracted to Lily but in her paranoia believes she conspires to steal the role from her, while Will sees Gareth Jacob Hobbs as an horrible murderer but can't help but feel he's becoming one with him. They both hallucinate that a monster lives inside of them and tries to dominate them at some point.

Both Nina and Will discover they're attracted to a person of the same sex while also considering this person as an enemy. Actually in Nina's case I think it's more a case of internalized homophobia, nourished by her abusive mother who always kept her away from the external world and from exploring her sexuality, and probably fed her with fairy tales about a fair noble prince who will take her on his white horse one day. Surely her mother never discussed sexuality matters with her, considering that even though Nina's in her 20s she keeps treating her like a literal child. Where Will considers himself straight, Nina probably never even allowed herself to question her sexuality. When Thomas very rudely asks her if she's a virgin she blatantly lies because she realizes that telling the truth will make her look weird; and I got the feeling in this scene that she was disappointed not to have sex with him that night, not because she had a crush on him, but because she wanted to seem "normal" to him, and for the world in general. But it's very clear she's not attracted to him, or to any other men. The only person she wants is Lily, a woman. And since the idea of being sexually attracted to Lily terrifies her, and also because Lily isn't interested in her that way, it makes very much sense that in her craziness Lily becomes her enemy.

For Will, it's a bit different: the problem with Hannibal isn't so much that he's a man (as I say I think Will considers himself straight by default but I don't think it would stop him from admitting his feelings for Hannibal were the circumstances different), but that he's a serial killer and a cannibal. Will's goal is to save people from killers like Hannibal. That's what drives him and I don't think that it will ever change. So Hannibal is Will's natural enemy, in a way. That's the tragedy of this romance: they can't be without the other but they also can't be together BECAUSE what drives them is completely, utterly different, opposite even. At least that's the significance of the double suicide in The Wrath of the Lambs. They survived and Will has apparently decided to renounce his main goal to co murder and eat Bedelia du Maurier in a season we'll probably never see, but I can't see how doing that could turn good for him. Will will never be like Hannibal imho, no matter how hard he tries :(

And yet I can find another similarity: Lily is everything that Nina wishes she is: free, attractive, with no self put boundaries. I think Will also envies Hannibal to be the way he is, and that a part of him wishes he could become like him. He wants Hannibal to change him, but it goes against his main goal (saving people), hence his internal struggles.

Both Nina and Will choose suicide as their way out, completing their tragic arc. For Nina of course it's a poetic mirror of the Swan Queen's fate; the queen, reduced to stay a swan forever because her lover was seduced by the Black Swan, throws herself off a cliff (!) and finds freedom from her curse in death. Nina, however , kills herself believing she's killing her enemy, the message being of course that the only enemy she's got is herself (doesn't Hannibal tell Will something like that at some point? That he's his worst enemy?). Will kills both his internal enemy, the part of him he can't accept (the Will who enjoys killing and wants to kill again to feel powerful), and Hannibal, the man who's by definition his enemy, but also the man he can't live without because he's the only one who accepts the darkness he has in him.

Finally, both Nina and Will believe they reach their goal when they 'die': Nina's talent for dancing reached perfection in her final performance; Will jumps taking Hannibal with him thinking he's saving the world from Hannibal. Both endings are tragic, because they lie on the same sad conclusion: they couldn't accept themselves enough to live with themselves, so they embarked on a journey of self destruction that lead them to their death, wether it's a physical or metaphysical death we're talking about. Nina may be still alive at the end of Black Swan, and we know Will still is. But what part of them survived the fall?

#nbc hannibal #black swan #nina black swan #will graham #hannibal tv show #hannibal tv series #darren aronofsky #bryan fuller #natalie portman #hugh dancy #hannibal nbc #hannibal meta #Black swan meta #cinematic parallels

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tennessoui · 2 years ago

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It intrigues me so much thinking obi wan probably thought he was going to have a nice normal partner maybe a school teacher or a nurse, and live his days solving crime and then BOOM undercover on mob work and then BOOM Mob Boss is all over you like extreme osha (is that how you spell it idk) violations happening and then BOOM Killing someone because they could take it all away because they blew your cover and then BOOM going to the police ball where his shitty father can see him on the arm of said alleged mob boss WITH built in twins i feel like at some point obi wan is just sitting there thinking all of them and then shrugs cause in the end he got the hot rich dilf and he can do literally whatever he wants (well not everything but I’m sure you understand)

hello hello i finally wrote the scene where anakin/vader and obi-wan meet :D aka "boom mob boss is all over you like extreme OSHA violations happening" because i thought that was funny af

(1.7k)

It’s never a stellar sign when Obi-Wan wakes up to a headache like this. In the academy, it’d been a rare occasion. He’d never been one to join his fellow recruits for late nights out in the sort of clubs that dot the darker corners of Coruscant. He was the son of a police chief, after all, and that gave him certain expectations to follow, none of which left much room for drunken tomfoolery.

But the sort of headache that greets him when he wakes up is the kind of headache he recognizes from the worst sort of hangover, the sort he’s only had a handful of times in his life.

For obvious reasons, the very first thing he does when he finds the energy to squint his eyes partially open is to immediately roll over and away from the light source in the room with probably the most pathetic noise he’s ever uttered in his life.

He can’t even remember drinking that much the night before is the thing. He’d—why would he? He was—last night was—the first night of his undercover mission, he’d never risk it all to get drunk—

“Careful with your head,” a deep voice murmurs from very near to him, and Obi-Wan freezes. He doesn’t know who that is, where he is…how he got here. The material beneath his cheek is leather, so it’s most likely a couch that he’s resting on. “You took quite a beating,” the voice adds, and it sounds amused.

Obi-Wan squeezes his eyes shut and tries to take stock of his body. He does hurt, that’s true. He hurts pretty much everywhere actually, like his body is one giant bruise.

He took a beating? He was only supposed to be a server at the club—it had been his first night on the fucking floor, how could anyone have even noticed him enough to—

Oh. One of Skywalker’s men. He’d hit on one of the dancers, Shela. She’d been nice to Obi-Wan, had shown him around and called him Benny.

He’d gotten into a fight with the mobster when he wouldn’t leave well enough alone.

The fight had been taken outside. Six men against Obi-Wan. It hadn’t been much of a fight at all.

But where—

“Luckily, you’ve already been seen by the best and brightest in our fine city,” the voice says, and he must know he’s awake to be talking to him at all, but he still reaches out to touch Obi-Wan’s hair, proprietary. As if he knows he won’t be stopped.

The touch of fingers running along his hairline makes Obi-Wan freeze and then move, turning his face away, out of the man’s reach, and forcing his eyes open to glare at the touchy intruder.

His glare falters when he sees who exactly has found him. Where he must be.

Anakin Skywalker, businessman, restaurant owner, and suspected leader of the Coruscanti mob scene and its most violent family, stares back at him. His eyes are dark, his lips curled up into a smirk that makes Obi-Wan’s stomach tighten and his heartbeat rise. There is something very calculated and very cold about his eyes, and being under the full weight of them restricts his very breath.

“I was wondering if you had those,” Anakin Skywalker—known to all but a few simply as Vader—murmurs. He reaches out and touches Obi-Wan’s cheekbone, rough this time as if daring him to protest or flinch away from the movement.

The spike of tender pain makes Obi-Wan’s breath stutter. He must be pressing into a newly formed bruise. “Had what?”

Skywalker’s smirk grows. “Prey instincts.”

It’s like his heart misses a beat, lurching in his chest as he stares back at the mob boss. After all, he is wounded and weak and on what must be Anakin’s couch, inside what must be his home.

He’d been tapped by his father to infiltrate the Skywalker family’s mob, and he’s been studying up on all the information there is to know about Vader, his business, and his family since. The plan had been to work his way naturally into the confidences of the men of the 501st that frequented the strip club Obi-Wan got a job at. A free drink here and there, a charming smile, a flirty look….

The best way into the mob was to become a mobster’s fuck of the week. Or longer. Everyone knew that. Obi-Wan doesn’t want to think about his father signing off on his deployment, giving his permission for Detective Kenobi-Jinn to bend over and take it for the good of justice and law and order everywhere.

The plan had been to work his way into the affections of the mob, ask innocent questions in the minutes after sex when a mobster’s shields were mostly down, record the answers and report his findings to Detective Secura every other week.

The plan was not to wake up on Anakin Skywalker’s couch with the man caressing his face. The plan was not to ever even meet Skywalker. He was supposed to spread his legs for an underlying. A commander at most.

Someone like—what was the man’s name? One of the men last night—he’d been kind. He’d been someone Obi-Wan had hoped would come back, because—

“Daddy?” A voice asks from the doorway, and Obi-Wan lifts his head slightly at the sound. He’d known Skywalker had children, but he hadn’t known they’d be here—meeting Vader’s children was not in the plan at all.

Skywalker’s eyes darken, and he doesn’t take them away from his face, not even when he reaches out a hand to the doorway. “Come here, Leia baby.”

There’s the pattering of little feet and then suddenly a pair of big brown eyes is blinking at Obi-Wan from far too close to be socially acceptable. He twitches back on instinct, and a large hand wraps around the girl’s throat to tug her away gently. “We shouldn’t scare him, baby,” Skywalker murmurs in his deep, soft voice. “He’s skittish.”

Obi-Wan barely holds back an offended scoff. He’s not skittish, he’s aware enough to know that he’s at a significant disadvantage here.

At least it’s highly unlikely that he’ll be murdered in front of Skywalker’s kid.

“Daddy, Luke and I put all those band-aids on him and patched him up so good,” Leia says, allowing her father to drag her backwards and settle her onto the edge of the coffeetable. “You can’t make him bleed again.”

Alright, maybe the presence of his kid isn’t enough to usually keep him from murder. He sits up carefully, swinging his legs down onto the ground even though the motion makes him want to vomit.

He’s barely vertical when Leia pushes herself under his arm to put her head in his lap, arranging his hand so that it’s resting on her head.

Obi-Wan’s eyes widen and he looks at Skywalker.

The man just smirks as he leans back himself to look his full.

“You gave Luke head scratches all night,” Leia accuses when he doesn’t move.

“I—what?” Luke? Who is Luke?

“Rexy brought you to Daddy and he wasn’t here so he put you on the couch and Luke and I patched you up and you gave Luke so many head scratches even though he fell asleep which isn’t fair because we used my band-aids and you were sitting on my end of the couch!”

Obi-Wan blinks.

Obi-Wan’s hand starts moving, petting the girl’s head.

Rex. That was the name of the man from the bar last night, the one who had been kind. Who had apparently looked after him, gotten him somewhere…reasonably safe.

Perhaps the plan isn’t ruined after all.

“Oh,” he says very carefully. “Rex helped me? That’s very nice of him. I should like to…thank him personally then.”

Leia shoots up away from his side with an insistent scowl, one Obi-Wan is unprepared to deal with or understand. He looks away from her to frown at Skywalker, but Skywalker is wearing the same expression—though much darker.

“Weren’t you listening?” Leia demands. “Me and Luke helped you! Rex just gave you to Daddy!”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan blinks. He doesn’t…know what he’s supposed to be doing. Or saying. But he can try. “Well, thank you very much for your help, Leia. You and your brother made me feel much better.”

Leia beams and gives him a pat on the arm as if he’s a dog who has gotten a trick right. “Daddy,” she says and looks to Skywalker. “We are keeping him. Luke and I talked about it and that’s what we decided. We want Ben.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes widen. This is definitely not part of the plan.

But at least he’d been with it enough to give them his undercover name, despite being out of it enough to end up on Anakin Skywalker’s couch surrounded by his children, and then pet at them.

“I thought you were talking to Ahsoka about wanting a puppy,” Skywalker says. His tone is unreadable, but his eyes are softer as they look at his daughter.

Ahsoka. Ahsoka Tano. Vader’s second.

“Ben is better than a puppy,” Leia declares, and Obi-Wan feels sort of—touched. Despite himself. Despite the myriad of reasons he should be on his highest guard, even against this child.

“Ben is not even in the same realm as a puppy,” now Vader sounds amused. “If anything, you are requesting to adopt a little mouse.”

“Well…maybe Ben can be mine, and Luke can get the puppy,” Leia suggests.

Obi-Wan wonders if Ben is going to get a choice in this conversation, and then he wonders what he’d choose.

The plan does not mention him getting within touching distance of Anakin Skywalker.

As if he knows what he’s thinking, Skywalker turns dark eyes to him. “What if,” he says, in that soft tone he’d been using when he told Obi-Wan to mind his head, “I keep Ben, and you and Luke can get the puppy?”

That’s it then. The plan—and Ben—and Obi-Wan are all fucked.

“Okay,” Leia says.

Obi-Wan doesn’t say anything. His chest feels tight, and he's confused. He's confused because he's not sure he did anything to warrant being kept. He hasn't earned his keep yet. All he's done is bleed all over Vader's sofa. This is a deviation from the plan. He was supposed to be flirty and seductive and work to get the attention of one the mobsters until he ended up on his back for the good of the city. He's not supposed to--

“Well?” Vader asks, cocking his head slightly.

“Okay,” Ben whispers, and Vader smiles.

#asks #obikin #vaderwan #playmaker au #obi-wan: wait i dont deserve to be manipulated and twisted into a shell of my former self yet i haven't seduced anyone #and i grew up thinking my actions made me deservng of things not my existence #vaderkin: oh my god i can see how fucked up this is making him feel in his eyes this is amazing #i need to thank rex again for the amazing present #rex: haha yeah he tried to kiss me when he was fucked up by the concussion #anakin: what.#rex: haha yeaah but i mean obviously i dont kiss rats and we know that's what he is right. hes a rat for sure #anakin: he tried to kiss you.#rex: i think thats not the most important thing i said boss

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