#the quality isn't good at all but I had to made this gifs
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spotlightlowlife · 2 days ago
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IMPlying
Season finale was, fine.
What was expected really.
Can't say I didn't roll my eyes at Stolas being gloomy and ungrateful as others make efforts for him, particularly Blitzø but yet again all of IMP come to his rescue and there's not a shred of respect for the danger they put themselves in.
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He had a massive nerve throwing down his notebook of 'fantasies' and trashing the office before charging off to see his daughter as if foregoing Blitzø and the modest little life he lives, after all this, forcing his way into Blitzø reality in the first place. All of this seems to imply passive blame.
This ofcourse happened while he was filling in for Loona as receptionist while the rest worked. I appreciate that we went back to work and we meet a dinner with a job request and there's a good joke that the request was to take out her husband who left her for a man resulting in Stolas having his drama shoved in his face.
It would have been good to spend a little more time with the sinner to see that she was in the wrong and for the moral high ground of IMP to be questioned more? Way too dismissive.
For all we know that husband could have been responsible for his wife becoming a sinner if you know what I mean, we don't know what happened to her.
Blitzø and Moxxie having a moment of shared understanding of why this isn't a good job to take on could look like a throwback to season one murder family but them no, it was all about Blitzø seeing himself and Stolas in two men with their children. What if this man had left his wife for another woman, would he be less empathetic? Ultimately nothing will change, if we see them at work in season 3 or a short, what are the chances that they include a clause to not do families or interfere in relationships? How could they vet?
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We still don't know how sinners pay.
Also they're working on a holiday and missing out on a paid job because it's too close to home, even though Loona showed empathy to Blitzø and was willing to take in the job herself, which leads on to another thing...
More tell not show
Loona actually wanted to get out the office and do a job with the team.
Since when?
It really would have took two seconds once or twice in previous episodes to have her complaining about being stuck at the desk while they go out, maybe even reminding them that she has a hunan disguise, maybe then we could have found out when and how she learnt such magic and since when did she make friends? Her friends are very cute btw but when did this happen? Bee's sham of a party?
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Seeing as she is supposed to be like a moody teen who us slowly growing up and learning to appreciate her dad, complaining more could have served as a reminder that there have been times where she could have had more responsibility. These recent episodes have had a habit of telling us new things out of nowhere after all this time.
Who has been consistent
I read tonnes of comments and the dislike for Octavia is astounding.
What did she do wrong?
She actually did everything right.
She saw for herself that her mother and uncle were enjoying Stolas's downfall, she wondered around her home and found her dad's pills, she came to the correct conclusion that he was always unhappy, didn't like Stella and was persevering for her, what's wrong with this, it's the truth.
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He did go on to leave following his fling which he had been enjoying up until recently and we all saw him thirsting over Blitzø or arguing with Stella over quality time with his daughter on the few occasions we have seen her.
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Furthermore she rescued Stolas and IMP.
And she didn't blame Blitzø for any of this.
I appreciate that she made a decision for herself and I'm amazed at the massive lack of compassion there is for her.
Her song sucked.
Also what was the confusing dialogue of Stolas trying to call for a month when we saw that he suddenly remembered that he had to talk with Octavia, who has a mobile and was seen with her phone alone, this was after Stella discouraged her from answering it, it wasn't ever confiscated?
And to not be forgotten for being stable
Why did the Millie pregnancy thing have to be so weird, miserable and the clifhanger like she was hiding something?
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We watch her casually not get beaten down when it comes to being behind on the bills.
We see the teams lives in danger constantly.
We have watched her admit to liking attention.
We have seen how family oriented she is and dispite her family having no respect for her husband, she remains close with them and has both in her life.
Moxxie and Millie are constantly being pushed as the wholesome loved up couple and yes a pregnancy is a big deal that will change things but this maried couple are supposed to be kinky af and massively supportive of one another, so why was this so much more dramatic than nervousness? Should it not be a bigger deal that this character would seem gloomy? We heard none of Millie's conversation with her only friend sister.
We watched Sallie May's forced drama in the first short where Millie was supportive and didn't let herself be guilted and we watched Blitzø and Millie's (better late than never I suppose) backstory that showed how proud she was at how far they had come. Now she has a big secret and is it her pregnancy? Did she really need drama? Is this the only way she can get a story and we remember her during the break, to have her accompany all others in trauma?
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ireth-m · 2 years ago
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Voce instargram live 09.05.2023 feat.  Kawamura Kazuma &  Yoshino Hokuto
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kaivenom · 3 months ago
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Dating Sir Crocodile HCS
A/N: this is based on a request made by an anonymous, i hope you read this. And i must admit that i got really long.
Masterlist
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Meeting
You either meet him by working for him or by being another mobster let's set the division here.
You work for him
You were selected by your habilities, he didn't care about your appearence, just your effieciency.
And you really were, that's what he liked and what made him ascend you really fast.
When you were like his second in command, you started to feel like you were overworking, same salary but much more work.
In the other hand, he started to feel the most relaxed he has been ever, your pressence was making him be better at work and all that comes with it.
You wanted a raise and he didn't give to you. He saw it as a lack of respect and you shut up, not wanting to damage the good relationship you both builded.
At the end you resigned a week after and he let you.
Spoiler, he couldn't stand it, not because him having to do the work, no, because he was alone and you weren't there with your calming pressence, the bad jokes and that good morning smile.
He lasted a couple of weeks, then he went to search you.
"So, someone can't do his job without help."
"It's not about the job."
"Then what it..." you couldn't continue because he was kissing you.
You returned, now at his second officially, no raise but unlimited access to his money.
You are another mobster
At first there was that cordial hostility between enemies that otherwise would be friends.
Both of you tried to make peace between your mobs but obviously, with your own terms.
To be more casual, you both decided to meet at dinner place.
Ussually mobs share living experiences to see if their life styles combine with their future allies, so you both would do that.
The problem was still unsolved so you needed another meeting, and then other and other, until you weren't even talking about alliances just life.
This is the point were your gangs started to see the new problem and wanted to solve it for their way.
"So, one of my seconds said that at this point if we want an alliance we should be married, crazy right?" you said flustered.
"It's not crazy, mine's said that too. We don't have to be marrid but maybe they are right and we should date."
"If dating goes wrong, we are doomed."
"Then we can't mess up, we can do a contract if that happens, if it makes you feel safer."
"Really?"
"Dating you seems like the perfect idea for me, like i don't desire to do so?" he was talking serious, he wanted to date but he was concious about it, now he had de excuse.
Dating
His love languages are gifts, anything you want then he has it the next morning on your door. And quality time: long afternoons on the office, sleepless lazy nights.
He can't do physical touch as much as he wants to thanks to his reputation and your safety, so that would be reserved to home.
The more you will have on public are cheek or forehead kisses, a small pat on your head or a little brush on the leg.
Then in the house, you won't have another sit that isn't his legs.
Big on commited men, this man has a special calendar in the office to remeber dates with you. He even has the secretary to remember him special dates if he forget due to work.
He knows he can get submerged on job so he does everything he cans to just don't dissapoint you, cause he knows you expect him to be working a lot.
Hes huge, we know that, so you will sleep on top of him or using him as a pillow and pray to not end up as the little spoon.
That doesn't happen ussually, so you don't get crushed but he will always have his arm on you (so you sleep on the side of his good arm)
If someone tries to threaten him, you are the one on lock down.
After a couple of years he will start to think about retiring and have a life with you and maybe a kid. The first thing it's difficult so he proposes to you to begin with that.
He is a master of deals and that applies to you, it's wonderful to know that he always listens to your concerns and tries to solve it or either get to a agreement.
He never reaises his voice with you and you are the only one that makes him laugh, like a real laugh, not the mafia boss grin.
NSFW
He needs to be in control always so disconecting from that in bedroom is difficult.
He tends to be dominant and give you orders (not that you complain) but on particular vulnerable days he is more able to let it go and you have the oportunity to lazily ride him with passionate kisses.
He can make you call him daddy but not sir, never that, everyone calls him that, but in bed you should never, it just clicks something on his mobster mind that he doesn't like. He is with you not in the job.
He doesn't like degradation either, maybe things like pointing your obvious need for him but not hummiliate.
I think he doesn't view sex like an everyday activity, he is a man but he is a grown one. If he gets a random boner he will try to hide it or let it happen, nothing much but... if you happen to be with a skirt or with a particular behaviour or he is specially needy for you, then he will go to catch you.
Definetily a growler and groaner, perfectly able to talk and tell you how good you make him feel and how good you are doing it. These are the times when he is the more talkative ever.
He loves to comunicate with these things cause he is a big man (you know what i mean) and he knows it so he wants to make you confortable. You both had a talk about it and you were more flustered about his serious face than to the fact that he was saying his dick will split you in half.
But things said, then he could fuck you like god, cause he knows how to do it.
He is more of a reciever, something about your pretty dollface between his legs with his dick half way into your mouth, it's so sexy.
You both even tried to take things out of the bedroom and try that famous scene were the girls suck the guy under the table on a meeting.
Spoiler: neither of you liked it so, things stayed in the bed.
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bigfan-fanfic · 7 months ago
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Bats in the Web (Spider-Man!Batdad x Batfam)
What if batfam meets a version of Batdad who is Spider-Man in his universe??
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"We can't interfere!" Bruce growls. "I know you want to help, but after the last world we jumped into, we can't take chances."
Dick sighs. The last world they went into, they nearly ruined everything because Gotham had no Batman yet.
But luckily, something descends upon the mugging in progress.
But it isn't Batman.
A strange silver cable zips into view and slams into the assailant's back, spreading in a strange geometric pattern. He stumbles forward at the force of the blow, before the cable springs taut, and the mugger is flung into the air.
Someone lithe and graceful sails through the air, trailing more silver cables and quickly wraps the stranger up in them, robotic arms emerging from their back to assist - almost like a four-armed... spider.
The mugger dangles upside down from a traffic light, completely mummified in silver, and the figure, in a black bodysuit with light-catching silver filaments in a web pattern shining along the whole thing, and what appears to be a yellow hood and short jacket, crouches atop it.
"You get home safe, you hear?" they call. "We'll just be... hangin' around."
The would-be victim grins up at them. "Thanks, Spidey!"
But the Bats are looking shocked.
Because that was clearly your voice, only slightly altered by a voice changer - the voice you use when you broadcast to negotiate with people while they're on patrol.
Before they can speak, though, you've flung yourself through the air, opening your arms to reveal the gliding wings attached from your sides to the arms of your jacket so you can sail through the air.
"Pops is... Spider-Man?" Dick yelps.
From what they can surmise, in this universe, Bruce still lost his parents at a young age, but he didn't develop the desire to become Batman.
Instead, while on a field trip, you were exposed to some kind of radioactive spider, and Bruce did what he could to keep your secret and develop his technological aptitude to help you.
It was Alfred's death that convinced you to become a hero - his last words to you being that with great power came great responsibility.
You and Bruce are still very young in this world, barely old enough to have adopted a young Dick Grayson. It's probable that Damian won't be born, and Tim won't be adopted by you.
You're so much more cheerful than Batman - Gotham's Spider-Man quips, sometimes with dark humor, and inspires her citizens to fight back against the oppressive darkness of their city with good humor and clever tactics.
The Bats make their way to Wayne Manor, only to find the harsh brickwork and traditional architecture has made way for modern-quality of life improvements, fiber optic light fixtures, glass bay windows, and high tech at every turn. It barely resembles their Wayne Manor.
In fact, the caverns beneath the estate aren't even utilized, with there instead being a high-tech laboratory on the grounds with a launchpad to fling you over the bay and into the city.
It's a shock to see them - Bruce Wayne, his body in shape but much softer: he obviously works out hard but he's clearly not a fighter. His movements are relaxed, even sluggish compared to the constant vigilance of the Bat. And he wears an unfamiliar expression on his face - a genuine lazy grin.
Meanwhile there's this world's you - lithe and strong, battle-worn and with the at-rest tension of a vigilante.
Alt-Bruce and you have an easy banter, a love very much like two young people - you're only a little older than Dick, after all, which he finds weird - especially when he and Tim babysit his younger version.
Jason is utterly touched when Alt-Bruce asks about all the kids, so he can make sure to adopt them - he wouldn't want them going homeless in this world. All Jason knows is that young Jason Todd in this world might just be saved from years of trauma.
You're still the strategist, but Bruce is your mission control and the gear/science guy - he helps with upgrades and is the one to suggest a way to get the Bats back to their world.
But you'll need their help.
You fly through the city that night accompanied by five gliding shadows. Shadows that brutally subdue the henchmen of Black Mask as you soar above their heads, connecting some power towers with a filament web, forming a major circuit Alt-Bruce can use to power a tachyonic collider, which should launch them back into their world.
They return to their world, but Jason pulls Bruce aside.
"B... you owe him."
"Owe him what? Who, Jaybird?"
Jason sighs. "Pops. You owe him a chance to see that smile. On you."
Bruce looks at him. "You think my face can still do that?"
"Hey, I was surprised that you were actually funny! But... yeah, I do."
"Maybe you're right. Maybe you're right..."
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chaethewriter · 2 years ago
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You're dead to me [1]
Dad!Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader
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In which Jake Sully leaves his life on earth to settle down with the Omatikaya people as Toruk Makto. Having a family that consists of four kids with Neytiri, everything seems to work out just fine, but what if the past comes back for him? And his babygirl is right there in front of him?
warning: english isn't my first language, angst, fluff, barely proofread, kinda rushed, prologue type of part.
Word count: 1,9k
next chapter
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"Daddy daddy look what I made!" When Jake Sully entered the room, he was met with a pair of sparkling eyes staring directly at him, paper in hand as you jumped up and down in excitement. He closed the door with his hands before he moved them back to the wheels, rolling himself forward carefully as he had their dinner on his lap. When you headed towards him, your tiny feet stepping towards him in small baby steps, Jake Sully already knew he had to remove anything available on his lap for the tiny human that was about to jump in his arms. He quickly put the plastic bag to his side and opened his arms to welcome his adopted daughter in his arms. "Daddy daddy!!", your squeals filled the air as you pressed yourself against his body. Jake Sully had to steady his body for the huge amount of impact a tiny human like yours could give, but once he seated you comfortably on his lap, he couldn't help but lift you up to his face, his arms around her body to hug her close as she was kneeling on his lap. "Hi babygirl, did you make something for daddy?", he brought his lips towards your chubby cheek to blow a raspberry against your skin. Tons of giggles left your lips as you nodded your head to his question, "I drew daddy and me!" You held onto his shoulder to steady yourself with one hand before you brought the drawing in front of his face. Jake Sully had to squint his eyes to get used to the closeness, the little girl, that was you, basically pressing the drawing into his face. Another pair of giggles left your lips as you waited for his reply. He turned you around on his lap and you immediately took a seat, your short legs dangling against his. Jake took his time to analyze the drawing. It was incredibly messy, as expected of a six year old. A few scribbles in different colors. Something that is supposed to look like a rainbow? But in the middle, there he was. Jake sully himself. He was sitting on something that looked like a chair and his little girl was there, right on his lap. The drawing was very abstract, but it made his heart flutter nonetheless. "And you drew this all by yourself? You did this all by yourself?" One hand is held onto the drawing while the other was wrapped around your stomach.
"Yes daddy!! I love you daddy!!"
You, (Y/N) Sully, prior (Y/N) (L/N), were confused. Where did your daddy go? You were young, age 8 when he left you on earth. You didn't understand why. Didn't he love you? But he always made sure to remind you. Kisses, quality time, cuddling. He took you in when mommy and daddy died, so why is he suddenly leaving you? He told you it was for work, something important that would give the both of you a good life. Give you a good life. But you didn't care about anything of that. Being with your daddy already made you feel like you were living your best life. Painting with daddy, eating with daddy, cuddling with daddy. But he told you to be patient and that he would return to you soon. Yet, when was soon? You grew impatient, even though you yourself knew that it wasn't kind of you to be like that. He took you in when you were an orphan and took his time to care for you, even though he was paralyzed and having a hard time himself. You completed one another, because you both needed each other the most at the same time. So you tried you best to stay optimistic. Your daddy loves you, so surely he will come soon for you, right? But days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. Then he missed your eleventh birthday. The neighbors Jake Sully was close with took care of you instead during the time. They were like your auntie and uncle, but they weren't your daddy. When two years passed, you decided to call it quits. He wasn't coming back for you. You were thirteen at that time, old enough to understand the reality of the world. A teenager without any goals is what you were, the light and will left your eyes the moment your daddy left you. You hated carrying his last name, yet couldn't bring yourself to change it back to your original surname.
The decision to keep your last name was the reason they found you. They, are a resistance group going against the destruction of Pandora. Pandora. The planet your daddy went to and never came back from. Like the reckless thirteen-year-old you were and not thinking about consequences at all in this terrible world, you went with these unknown, potentially dangerous, people to their underground base. There you were answered all the questions you had and wanted to ask. It was normal that you were curious about your dad, but tried to be nonchalant about it. Him leaving you wasn't a big deal, not at all. Why would that be a big deal? But you couldn't fool anyone with that type of behavior, as the liteaunant explained further than the questions you actually asked. Much more personal information. A daughter will always miss her dad after all. You learned that your father, Jake Sully, was still alive and one of the people. A painful way to know, from someone else, since it felt like your father indirectly slapped you in the face with an 'I don't care about you'. "Alive and well", were the words she told you. Alive and well your ass. When you were asked to join the program to protect Pandora, the indigenous and its nature from the greedy governments that tried to destroy it. The same governments that already have destroyed their own planet: ignoring global warming. Proceeding to pump gas from under the ground, bringing animals in danger, and destroying the nature humanity needs to even breathe. You couldn't lie, you wanted to decline. Saving the world and all sounded good and all, but you never wanted to do anything that even indirectly involved you so-called father. When money and status were involved, it started to sound interesting in your eyes. Ironic, the same way your dad left you. Like father like daughter, one could say. Yet, this was your chance to show everyone what you could turn out to be.
So, accepting is what you did. You soon started training, but it was no usual military training. You all learned about life on Pandora, you and the others that had potential in them learned to live like the people of Pandora: the bow and arrow, spears, but also hand-to-hand combat if anything were to go wrong. The training honestly went great, you didn't regret accepting the offer one bit. You felt fit and worthy, and most importantly you found people around you that cared for you. The liteaunant that guided you from the start was like a master to you. Not in an authority kind of way, but a respectful bond between two equals. You had friends that went through this entire process with you, telling each other about their lives and how they ended up here. While they were almost like warriors following orders, every night the group would sneak away to be like teenagers again, kids having fun and playing games. For a long time, it was the same routine. Wake up, eat, and train for almost the entire day, do homework, have dinner, sneak out, and sleep. You hated that homework so much, but knew that you needed to master everything you were given. It was to learn the language of the people, Na'vi. This felt like when you had to learn languages in high school, but ten times worse as you didn't even finish high school. "Oel nati kamy?", your voice sounded unsure as you tried to say the formal way of greeting someone in Na'vi, but you earned a slap against your forehead in return from one of your friends. "No, it's Oel Ngati Kameie, skxwang!"
Years of training together ended up being so worth it, because when all of you reached the end of your teenage years, it got announced that you were finally ready. You felt so delighted to know that all of your hard work paid off in the end. You knew everyone had a hard time trying their best to teach you the language of the people, so you were so thankful for everyone around you to get you where you are right now. Everyone worked so hard for it. As a parting gift, your liteaunant gifted you a katana. "It's to protect yourself, and always think of me", she joked to you, but the both of you could feel the heavy tension in the air. The grip on your katana tightened as you dropped your bag on the floor. You finally wrapped your arms around her, forgetting about the warrior exterior, that facade falling for just a moment. She didn't hesitate to hug you in return, "thank you for everything." You had whispered into her ear and pulled yourself together, being the first one to pull away from the hug. You knew that if you didn't let go now, you would second-guess jumping on your flight to Pandora. "Come on (y/n)!" Your friends already boarded and you were the last one left on the flat grounds. "Go on, child. You deserve this. And remember what I told you!" You don't reply, but only flash her a smile as you run after your friends with the katana and a bag. You all follow your superiors' suit, putting your stuff where they tell you to. With no seconds left to spare, they immediately tell you to follow them to your tubes, you were getting put into cryosleep. You still couldn't believe it. They were going to put you to sleep for six years and you're gonna wake up looking the same, but temporarily living in a dream world you trained your entire teen years for. You lay down in your tube, ready to get put to sleep. The nerves were truly getting to you. "See you on the other side!", you jokingly said to lift up the mood, and your friends started joking around, telling one another goodbyes and what they should do if one of them doesn't wake up. You just lay there quietly, waiting to get put to sleep as your mind starts wandering. You kept thinking about your leatiunant's words. She keeps telling you that you should make up with your dad or at least hear him out. You hoped you wouldn't run into him on Pandora, but he was Jake Sully. The Toruk Makto that went from being a sky demon to being one of the people. For sure you would get in contact with him. But as long as no one revealed your name, everything could be fine. He's dead to you after all. Surely, you were only there for the money and a good time, right?
Only time could tell.
A/N: my first time writing on tumblr so no idea how some stuff works. Had this type of idea for a dad Sully plot for a while and finally started it. Legit rushed through this to finish this asap cause backstory kinda lame. I'm a college student so give me some time until the next part. I need to release a novella for college so I'm double-writing a story— isn't smart of me but🤭
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quixotical-lymbo · 6 months ago
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Hi! For a request how about a small fic with everyone trying to help Wukong confess his feelings to fem Reader
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🍜 - tysm for requesting! hope you enjoy :) Warnings/Tags: MK and co shenanigans, fluff, humor, and kissing.  Word Count: 1800+ words
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"So, what's your deal?" 
"Hm?" Wukong sipped on his drink. 
"I mean, when are you gonna tell her that you like her?" 
Cue the monkey king choking on a straw while his successor pats him on the back. 
"Wha…what are you talking about, bud? Tell who?" Wukong wiped his mouth as he turned to look flabbergasted at his apparent heir. 
"Y'know who I'm talkin' abouttttt," MK drawled as he nudged his elbow against Wukong a few times. "It's so painfully obvious that you like her and her buns."
"I really don't know what you're…PF-PAH-ACK!" Wukong slammed his fist against his sternum a few times. "Her what?!"
MK rolled his eyes as he gestured to the rest of his friend group crowding around a festival game stand, you included. 
It was another festival that MK and co decided to spend some quality time together at, but what surprised the gang further was the inclusion of the monkey king. Although some seem less enthusiastic about his presence than others coughpigsycough. 
"You've been staring at her butt for the past…five…fifteen minutes? I didn't notice until you hadn't blinked at all until I spoke to you." 
"I was not! I was…observing the booth." 
"I'm sometimes stupid, but I'm not dumb! I know what I saw and I say nuh-uh!" 
"Yuh-huh!" 
"Nuh-" 
"What the heck are you two arguin' about?" Pigsy's voice boomed. MK and Wukong snapped their heads to look at the rest of the group staring back at them. Wukong's face felt hot underneath your questioning stare, but your smile made him gulp. Of course, MK had to notice this little reaction of his mentor. 
"Nothingggg, right, teach?" MK smugly lounged against the bench and turned to look at his mentor who glared back at him. 
"...right."
"Great! I saw some shooting games up ahead, wanna come with?" Mei butted in and yanked him off of the bench before he could say yes.
As MK was dragged off, he pointed two fingers at his eyes before pointing them back at Wukong. 
Great, they were totally gonna have a talk about this later. 
—🍑—
It hadn't even been a day before MK along with Mei and Tang ambushed Wukong. Apparently, operation 'monkey-see-monkey-do' involved them trying to set him up with you. Currently, the four of them were huddled around a few papers scattered on the floor of Pigsy's shop. 
 "Okay! Phase one of getting our friend to realize that monkey king likes her-" 
 "-Allegedly-" 
 "-and then phase two is to make her like him? What if she secretly hates his guts-?" 
 "-Allegedly-" 
 "-sorry, MK, but phase three isn't making a lot of sense in the grand scheme of things…like what do you mean by getting paint, flowers, and…oil?" 
 "Ugh, you guys! Just trust me okay! I got this-!" 
 "-Allegedly-" 
 "-SHUT UP!" 
—🍑—
As the bright sun shone on Megapolis, you were relaxing at a park sitting at the base of a tree. The cool shade provided by the foliage above along with the current temperature made for a perfect day to spend it outside. You slumped against the tree, your legs stretched in front of you on the blanket you laid out as your arms rested on your stomach. 
Truly, you were at peace. 
SNAP!
Your eyes shot open as your eyes focused on the familiar figure of the monkey king hanging off a tree branch using his tail. Not only that, but a bouquet of flowers were hanging from his closed fist, hanging just a few inches away from your face.
"...monkey king?" You exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" 
"Oh…about that-...I'm…uh," Wukong scratched the back of his head as his eyes flickered wildly in search of an answer. "Sightseeing! Yepp, I was just hanging around, saw you and decided to say hi?" 
"Right…" You chuckled. "It's nice to see you, how have you been?" 
"Good, good," Wukong's strained grin eased into a small curve. "I see you're having fun." 
"I am, ah…are those a souvenir or…?" 
"Hm? Oh, these?" Wukong glanced at the wild flowers in his hands before offering them to you. "Actually, they're for you." 
"Aww, you shouldn't have-" Your gaze softened as you reached for the flowers. Before you could take them, Wukong was tackled out of nowhere and disappeared from sight. You could have sworn you saw a flash of green and yellow go by, but you shrugged before lying back against the tree. 
  Later….
"What the heck was that for?" 
"There was a freakin' hornet in those!" 
"Yeah! If MK hadn't seen 'em you two would've been toast!" 
Phase One: FAILURE. 
—🍑—
You were holding a few bags of groceries as you made your way home. It was a boring week of working, doing mundane chores, and barely having time to hangout with your friends. Perhaps visiting Pigsy's shop was in order for tomorrow. 
A soft grin etched itself on your face as you rounded the corner only to bump into something hard and fuzzy. 
"Ah, sorry-...monkey king?" You glanced up to see the familiar orange simian smiling down at you. Your eyes slowly trailed from his face to the black-and-white suit that donned his figure, your cheeks felt warm as you noticed that the 'wall' you collided with was the unbuttoned part of his suit showing off his chest—and those bulging pecs barely being held back by the buttons-
Calm yourself, jeez. 
"Hey there, whatcha doin' out here all alone?" Wukong purred. You quirked a brow at how...odd the monkey king sounded. It seemed familiar but you couldn't place why the voice sounded like someone else you know.
"Going home after getting some stuff I need, nothing much," You answered after snapping out of your stupor. You coughed into your free fist before clearing your throat. "So, uh, what are you doing here all alone?"
"Oh, you know, stuff," Wukong replied as he suddenly pushed himself off of the building he leaned against and began…flexing? 
"...uh-huh…well, you look nice," You squint your eyes at the display–not that you were complaining that much about seeing his muscle flex under the fancy clothes. 
"Heh, thanks, you're looking mighty fine yourself," Wukong winked before shooting finger guns at you. 
"Thank you," You had the sudden feeling of being watched.
"Y'know what else is looking fine? Those tight pants hugging your-"
Wukong was snatched up by a flurry of greens and oranges before you could blink. 
You stared at the empty space where 'Wukong' once stood, your eyes surveying the nearly desolate streets before shrugging and continuing your walk back home.
The next day when you showed up at the noodle shop, Pigsy claimed that MK had taken a sick day off from work. 
Phase Two: FAILURE…?
—🍑—
"Ok, ok, clearly something isn't working." 
"Duh, Mei, everything was a bust." 
"Perhaps there is something we're missing, maybe if we refer to the books I've acquired-"
"-guys, guys, enough!" Wukong stood up from the huddle circle. "Look, as much as I appreciate your help, I've entertained this long enough and I think it's time for me to take the reins on this one, okay?" 
"But-" MK started but was cut off by Tang's hand on his shoulder. MK glanced between Mei's nod and Tang's smile before nodding at his mentor. "-okay! But you have to share the deets later!"
"Sure, bud," Wukong sighed in relief before heading out to find you. 
Finally, it was time. 
—🍑—
You wiped your hands down the front of your apron, the dust of the flour caused your nose to twitch as you headed toward the sink to wash the rest of it off. The window seated above the sink was left ajar, allowing the chirps of birds and crickets to bring the ambiance of the late afternoon inside of your home.
You were humming a small tune to yourself, eye closed as the pleasant daydream compelled a sigh from you. 
Tap, tap, tap. 
The repetitive raps against glass made you raise your gaze from the sink and laugh as you were met with the sight of Wukong's face squished against the glass of your window.
"Monkey King? What are you-...know what? Come to my balcony," You pointed behind you before flicking the rest of the droplets off and heading over to open the sliding door. Wukong met you there and stepped inside, his eyes wandering the unfamiliar space that was yours. 
"Before you say anything," Wukong pulled something out of nowhere and handed it to you. You peered into his palm and gasped at the bracelet adorned with your favorite colors and gemstones/trinkets. "I thought if I can come willy-nilly into your home, why not let you come over to mine some time? It's basically a free pass to come to my cave anytime you want if that wasn't already clear." 
You glanced up from the piece of jewelry and rose a brow at the king's offer. "This isn't another one of MK's wonderful 'plans' is it? I think I've had enough of you showing me your disappearing act multiple times." 
"..ah, yeah, I-" Wukong paused as he allowed your words to process for a moment. His tail shot up as the hairs on the appendage bristled. "You know about that?!" 
"Phase one, phase two, and-..." You pivoted on your heel, reaching for your phone on the couch before showing Wukong the texts you received from Pigsy. "-phase three? Mhm, I know everything." 
"Even the butt stuff?" 
"The what-" 
"-so you know that I…that we…geez," Wukong cursed Pigsy under his breath as he walked over to the couch to sit. "Look, I don't blame you if you don't want me around after all that, I kinda was a nuisance, huh?" 
You were silent for a few seconds before shaking your head while a smile grew on your lips. You took a seat next to Wukong, the aforementioned monkey jumped when you placed a hand on his thigh and took the bracelet from him to place on your wrist. Wukong watched you place it on, his eyes trailing over your somewhat messy appearance, but it only added more to your charm. 
He liked the sight of you disheveled and filthy. The wonderful, flawed, and beautifully imperfect you. The fact you were comfortable around him like that made his chest squeeze. In a good way of course. 
"Does that answer your question?" You asked as you held your wrist up to inspect the accessory against your skin. 
"Hmm, dunno, maybe something else might help convince me," Wukong finally relaxed and turned his head to the side to gesture to his cheek. 
You rolled your eyes before guiding his face to yours and pressing a quick kiss on his lips. You could feel the mystic monkey's smile against your lips before breaking the kiss. Wukong managed to squeeze another peck in before you completely pulled away, "...guess I'll be staying for dinner?"
You answered with another kiss.  
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🍜 - I do not give permission for anyone to translate, copy, republish, or plagiarize any of my written works. I provide no permission for any of my literary works to be used in artificial intelligence. sparkle banner(s) by @adornedwithlight !!
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bamsywrites · 2 months ago
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And Comes Dawn pt v
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Pairing: Sauron/Halbrand x Reader, the love triangles will start showing up here soon
Word count: 2k
Tags/warnings: death mention, mention of miscarriages, angsty, but fluffy, Tolkien lore is mentioned some, reader do be yapping, sauron is unwell and a little obsessed,
Notes: I take some liberty with the elf occupation of the southlands in this one but it's my fanfic and if I wanted to have halbrand wear a pink frilly tutu I could. Keep the feedback coming please. I love all of you.
Series masterlist
You awoke to the soft rocking of the sea, a blanket thrown over your body, and the smell of soup. The smell alone almost made you moan as the emptiness in your stomach ached. The last thing you had remembered was the storm and now you were on a strange ship.
Where were you?
“She wakes,” a deep voice spoke next to you. It almost startled you, but seeing Halbrand and hearing his voice brought a sense of calm over you. He had shown that he had meant his words, that he would protect, but you were still unsure as to what motivated that in him. Surely it had to be something more than he thought you were a good person.
Without thinking, you threw your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, relaxing into his body. It took a moment, but his strong arms wrapped around you, and he placed a kiss to your hair, “I got you, sweet one,” he whispered softly, resting his chin on your head.
After a moment, you pulled away and looked up at him, “Where are we?”
He looked into your eyes, smiling softly, “A ship captain saw us and rescued us. Looks as if your whole hope thing isn't useless after all.”
You smiled, “Of course it's not. Hope never is.”
This time, it was him that pulled you in for a hug, all but pulling you into his lap. “I swear, sweet one, never scare me like that again. I thought I lost you,” he whispered into your hair.
You didn't make any movements to separate from him, enjoying the feeling. “Is that soup I smell?”
Halbrand laughed softly, pulling away and holding your face in his hands, “You ruined the sentimental moment.”
“Halbrand, I have been stranded at sea for a week, and while I do enjoy you, I am quite hungry.”
He smiles but shakes his head, “I'll go get you a bowl.”
As he leaves to do that, you take in your surroundings. It's a sturdy ship, not like the one you'd left on. It was well kept and clean, and the wood seemed to be of high quality. Your eyes examined the room until they landed on the elf, who was still either unconscious or asleep. Her words to you repeated in your head. She'd revealed your past to Halbrand. It seemed maybe as if he didn't care or notice, but it mattered to you.
You heard his footsteps on the stairs, and you quickly looked away, taking the warm bowl of soup in your hands. “Thank you,” you managed to speak before you started slurping down the liquid. It felt amazing to fill your stomach again. To eat something warm, that wasn't stale bread and dry meat. You had moaned softly the minute it moved down your throat.
Halbrand watched you until you were done, it looked as if he was thinking of something. You put the bowl aside and sat quietly for a moment before he spoke.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
You didn't need him to specify. You knew of what he spoke. You sighed softly and looked at him for a moment. He was leaning forward with his arms resting on his knees and hands clasped together. He looked concerned and curious as he watched you.
“I didn't want you to think differently of me,” you said softly.
“You were not the one who committed the crime. I told you, I've done horrid things. I chose to do those things. You did not choose to have an evil father.”
“That's the other reason why I don't talk about it,” you spoke softly. “He wasn't always that way. He was a good man, and so was my brother and my uncle. They were all good men. They were all hard workers. We had a farm, and they all tended to it from dawn until dusk. And when Papa would come home, no matter how tired he was, he would sweep me into his arms and dance with me around the room. My uncle would put me atop his shoulders and take me with him to town or to pick apples. My brother had the most awful jokes. He'd sneak me seconds of the cake, and he'd teach me how to use a bow. They were not evil, and I hate to talk about them as if they were. As if they were born that way.”
Halbrand wet his lips, “But something must have happened for them to murder an entire village of elves.”
You nodded, looking at your hands as you fought back tears. “My mama was good. She was so good and kind. She had a garden, and she grew herbs that helped people sleep or cleaned minor wounds. She was helpful. Everyone loved her, and my father adored her. She got sick one winter and the medicine she needed was expensive. Everyone worked so hard to save up enough for it, but in the end, we didn't have enough,” You wet your lips with your tongue. “She died. It was…it was awful. She was in pain and didn't go with peace. Father was distraught. Not only had he lost mother, but she had been with child. They had always had trouble with having children. My brother was several years older, and many miscarriages and lost babes were between us. The baby was almost to term.” You shook your head, wiping the few tears that slipped out away.
“I'm so sorry, but what does that have to do with elves? With Sauron?” Halbrand spoke, his hand moving to rest on your knee in a form of comfort.
“Father blamed the elves for mothers' death. I do not know how it is with other villages in the southlands, but for ours we had to give tithes of crops or money to the elves as a form of repentance for our ancestors' allegiance with evil,” you spoke with a hint of annoyance. “A reminder of what we did. Father was forced to give the money that he had saved to the elves. He begged for help for medicine, and it was denied. It changed him. It broke him. My grandfather believed that Sauron would return and bring with him the legacy that was long lost from our people. Father had dismissed that belief, but after mother died, he believed that Sauron would be more benevolent than the elves. That he would be a better leader. All that was needed was a massive blood sacrifice. He radicalized my uncle, my brother. My house went from being filled with love and light to being filled with darkness, with plots for murder. With stories of long ago and Morgoth and Sauron and giant spiders and dragons.”
“That's why you believe that evil is thrust upon people, isn't it?” Halbrand spoke softly.
You nodded. “The grief would destroy me if I believed there was no good in my family.”
Halbrand sat in silence. “And what of a being like Sauron? Do you think he's able to be forgiven? To be good?”
You pressed your tongue into your teeth and furrowed your brow. “I do not know, but I also do not think it is my place to make that decision. It is not my place to forgive my own family for what they did. What they did was horrendous. It was not excusable. I do not want to lessen the severity of their crimes, nor do I think that their punishment was unjust. I do not think it serves anyone well, though, to think that they were evil all along. To think they were without human emotions. Despite the evil they have done, I still love my family.”
You inhaled a deep breath, looking up at him, “I think for him, for Sauron, it could be the same. I do not know much about what created us, but I know that what created me also created him. In that case, he is capable of all the things I am. Love, kindness, empathy. That has to all be there, the good that he hasn't chosen. Perhaps he even has a family who still loves him. But it is not my place to decide if he is forgiven. I am not the one to redeem him.”
~
He sat with his head resting against a beem of wood. Not long after you ate, you'd fallen back asleep. His fingers were lazily running through your hair as he stared at a particular piece of wood.
He was getting more answers to who you were, but the answers he got asked questions themselves. How did you suffer so much and yet still hope? How did you hold such light inside you as well as such grief?
He'd been so full of himself when he learned of your family. To learn, there were those who still waited for him, who would kill for him. It satisfied his ego and fueled his arrogance. It was hard to resist smirking, smugly laughing to himself, or making a comment.
It didn't last long. In his interrogation of you, he asked too many questions and got answers he didn't bargain for. His questions now weren't so much about you, but about him. About his wants, his goals, and his motivations. Instead of asking who you were, your answers made him ask who he was.
He is capable of all the things I am.
…The good he hasn't chosen.
A family who still loves him.
The last one was the worst. Did he have a family who loved him still? Would he ever be able to return to his home? Would he be able to work inside Aulës's workshop? Would his former master have missed him? Would he hear the song of creation once more?
Did he want any of that?
Or did he still want power? Control? To bring peace and order through domination? The temptation was still there. The darkness was ever present inside of him, but perhaps there was some light left.
His eyes drifted to you, picking up a few strands of your hair and then watching them fall back over your face. Part of him still wanted you dead. He wanted you gone. It had been little over a week, and yet it had felt like a lifetime. You were challenging him in ways that he did not want. You were, somehow, single handedly, causing him to second guess everything he knew. That alone was reason enough for him to slit your throat.
Then there was the lust. He'd never lusted after anyone like this. The fact that you were a human felt like an insult. The reactions his body had to you were too human for his liking. He wanted control, but with you, he had none. It was surprising that he hadn't claimed you already. You were his, after all. And that was another reason for him to dispose of you.
There was the stirring deep inside him, the warm feeling that he sometimes could feel spreading. Sometimes, it spilled out of him without even knowing. He dared not name it. He did his best not to feel it. He'd know you little more than a week, and yet it was there, taunting him always at the edge of his mind. That was the biggest reason he wanted you gone. That feeling, he didn't want it, especially not for you. A mere mortal should not make him feel this way.
There were so many times he had raised a blade or had his hands wrapped around your throat, and just before he was about to make the move that would free him from you….
Your eyes, bright and happy, looking up at him.
The crinkles next to your eyes when you smile.
The softness of your skin against his.
The sound of your laugh.
The smell of your hair.
You.
He growled, sending a table flying and sending his fist through the wood of the pillar. He breathed heavily, forehead resting against the splintered wood as he heard you stir in your sleep. His eyes closed. He hated the chaos inside of him.
He hated everything.
He especially hated that he couldn't hate you.
previous
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sickwhispers · 3 months ago
Note
helloo!! could i request a twisted astro x a very sleepy toon reader? :3 like they just have habits of falling asleep everywhere no matter what even during chases with other twisted?
of course no pressure with writing! ^_^ have a good day or night !
Don't worry it's no pressure at all! You astro fans understand me deeply. (Also dw I got your other ask as well, the standard format for x reader requests are headcanons unless someone specifically asks for something else like a one-shot)
BEDTIME ROUTINE
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Pairing: (Twisted) Astro x reader
Relationship: romantic
Warning: he might sound a little stalker-ish, reader isn't fully comfortable with his twisted form yet
Type: headcanons + drabble
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Twisted Astro no longer wears that same signature cornflower blue blanket anymore
It's not that he doesn't like it or that the ichor had ruined its quality beyond repair
It's just that he was better things to use it for now
He always kept it wrapped around your figure, practically covering every aspect of your body besides a little pocket that allowed you to breathe comfortably
he always made sure to keep you hidden
he knew how dangerous the other twisted could be, and because of that, it had become his number one priority to keep you safe and sound
although before he had gotten used to your sleepy nature, there was a lot of concern surrounding how many times he had found you passed out somewhere on the floor
at first, he had debated if you had some kind of sleeping disorder like narcolepsy
but after a while, he had found out it was just how you were
that didn't reassure his worries completely, though
part of him was thankful you were always sleeping
despite how guilty he felt about that tiny little pleasure
he knew he was scary
he's seen the fear in your eyes
it had been so long since you've smiled his way
but when you were asleep, it was almost like you trusted him again
he's no longer the same Astro you've known all those years
a voice in the back of his head keeps trying to convince him that if you just see how much he cares for you
how many times he's wrapped you up in a blanket and shielded you from the world outside your dreams
that you'd realize just how much he truly loves you
you'd finally realize that he'd rather face a brutal death than ever allow anything to harm you
maybe he's just too shy to outright say that
but part of him can't help but hope that he wouldn't have to
that everything would fall into place, and you'd come to that realization yourself
It didn't take too long before the twisted had lost their interest in you. The blaring sound of an airhorn had captured its attention quick enough to leave your resting body unharmed. And, with the sound fading into nothing, he made sure to be gentle when holding you close. You had been lucky enough to run into a twisted with a low attention span, and he had been lucky enough to get to you in time before your death could become a possibility.
Your chest rose and fell in an almost rhythmic motion, and if his mind still hadn't been panicking from the idea of losing you this floor, he would've taken the time to admire just how soft your snores were. But, there were still threats on this floor. As much as he would have loved to sit there and watch you sleep, he knew it was only a matter of time before another twisted came along and threatened your safety.
So, in the gentlest fashion, he wrapped your body up in the cornflower colored blanket he always did and wisked you off. He didn't know when you'd wake up from this little nap of yours, and despite how guilty it made it him, he wished it wouldn't be until a few hours. He found comfort in holding you close to him. A comfort he hadn't felt in a long time.
It was cute with how tired you always were, and he was thankful it gave him an opportunity to hold you do tenderly in his two upper arms. He knew if you woke up you'd be terrified. It's happened before. It hurt him having to watch the way your eyes widened, the sound of your hasty breathing had been almost deafening as you tried to bite back a scream.
But for now, he'd have to take it slow. He'd have to ease you into this new form of his. He'd have to teach you that despite how grotesque the view of ichor dripping down from his eyes was, he could be gentle. He could be the same Astro you had loved before. You just needed time, He'd tell himself over and over. You just needed time.
And, until that time came, he'd continue to stay a silent savior. One unbeknownst to you as you slept soundly against him. You could sleep as long as you wanted on these floors. As long as he was with you, he'd protect you. He'd keep you safe.
He's almost too shy to give away the possibility of you knowing how you managed to survive so many floors for this long
With how many times you had just dropped to the floor mid-chase, the others would have assumed you'd be long gone
And yet, you continue to stay alive
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kichikichiko · 8 months ago
Note
Heyyy loved your po headcannons, seeing as TaiLung is one of your fav could you please do dating TaiLung headcannons please? Hope you have a good day xx
You, always.
YES OF COURSE I CAN GRAHHHHHHHH.
TAI LUNG IS MY LOVE
I'm actually so happy I got this request
3 anons actually requested this so ill tag the other anons too when I reblog this hehehe
Synopsis: Dating Tai Lung headcanons!
Pairing: Tai lung x gn!reader (Animal of your choice)
Cw: Headcanon, fluff, mildly ooc Tai lung (BC HE'S A TEEN IN LOVE) pre kung fu panda 1, not proofread but I'll keep on editing this as I read LMAO
──────•❥❥❥•──────
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Everyone knew of Tai Lung. He was the adopted son of Shifu and the soon to be Dragon Warrior
At least that is what Shifu keeps on saying. But no one doubted it, Tai Lung was absolutely amazing and strong.
Many girls fell for him, and of course you did as well. But the differences between you and them, was that you successfully got Tai Lung’s heart
Everyone knew that although Tai Lung was strong, he had the temper of an eruptive volcano. Which is why MOST of his admirers wouldn't dare to confess their love to him.
Tai Lung fell in love with your confidence. The next dragon warrior was not stupid. He knew that most of the villagers were scared of him, despite admiring him.
You basically strolled up to him one day when he was walking down the streets of the valley of peace, and thanked him for his hard work.
“Hi Tai Lung, my name is (name) and I just wanted to say that I admire you and thank you for protecting the valley of Peace from danger.” you smiled
“You’re.. Welcome.” He nodded, holding a bag of groceries. Tai was stunned someone had the confidence to even look his way when he was on the streets of the valley
You smiled and nodded a little “See you around! Soon-to-be Dragon warrior” winking at him playfully and walking away.
He finds himself smiling at the memory whenever he has time to himself. From that moment on, you started seeing each other more often and finally made it official.
Never in a million years would he think that he would find someone to love.
Afterall, his heart and mind was set to mastering the art of Kung Fu, and making his father proud
But you changed him for the better.
You and him were polar opposites, which was great. You both were compatible despite your differences.
He was hot tempered and prideful... and you patient and humble.
Shifu and Tai Lung would have arguments from time to time. It’s only natural after all! He was a teenager, in his rebellious stage.
Tai Lung would storm out of the Jade Palace to cool down.
Before you, He’d go to a hill and punch a sturdy tree to relieve his stress. Of course the trees stood no chance
Now that he has you, his partner, the hot headed leopard would come over to your place without saying a word.
He didn’t have to of course, because he knew that you would understand right away. Which is all he needed honestly. I don’t think that he would have the patience to explain the full situation.
Tai Lung would NEVER admit it to you though,because his pride won't let him. But he loves how gentle you are with him.
The way you spoke to him when he was having troubles
“Tai, I understand Shifu made you upset, but you have to understand where he’s coming from.”
The way you held his paw in your own
“I’m sure he means no harm. He just wants the best for you and so do I”
How you guide him to the right path “Please control your temper next time, I don’t want you to start losing yourself and go on the wrong path”
His shoulders become less tense whenever he sees how soft your gaze is when you look at him.
Those eyes are just full of patience, love, empathy and understanding. Qualities that he does not have (Except love)
Qualities he loves about you.
If youre having a hard time Tai Lung would sense it straight away.
You both know that he isn't the best with his words
He can be awkward and stiff, but for you? He’ll try his damn best.
He’ll buy your favourite food, and even stop by mister Ping’s noodle shop to get you something warm for your tummy.
The Leopard would visit your place and take you by the lake at night to watch the stars in the sky as you feel the breeze of the wind hit your (feather/fur/skin/scales)
“Thank you Tai… for this.” You smiled at him as you took a bite out of the food he brought for you.
Tai Lung would nod stiffly “No problem.”
Honestly he wasn’t happy that he wouldn't comfort you with sweet words like you would do for him when he was upset.
“You know. I used to come here often to take time for myself. The first time I came here was to find inner peace in myself, but I couldn't, which frustrated me even more…” Tai lung started, he took a glance at you to see if you were listening
“I then decided to stop my meditation and look up at the sky. And what I saw was the beautiful stars shining brightly up there. Only then, did I find my peace even if it was for one night. In fact,” he looked up at the sky as if he was signing to you to do the same “the stars up there are shining just as bright as when I saw it for the first time.”
Your eyes trailed up to the sky and immediately you saw what your boyfriend was talking about.
“Wow it’s beautiful” you whispered in awe as Tai Lung saw the stars twinkling in your eyes.
“Just like a certain someone I know..” he’d whisper back, admiring your features and admiring you.
He was so lucky to have you by his side and he knows it damn well
No other words were exchanged between the two of you.
You scooted closer to your boyfriend and leaned into his shoulder for warmth and comfort. Tai Lung didn’t push you away, instead he pulled you closer.
Whether or not Tai Lung knows it, you started to forget your worries right then and there. It seems like he knows how to comfort you after all.
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Masterlist
Requesting (closed)
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reds-writings · 11 months ago
Text
jealousy, jealousy!
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(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)
a/n: hello! welcome to my first bout of writing! feedback is greatly appreciated and i hope you enjoy! there isn't much rust content on here so i figured i'd create it myself lmao
warnings: cursing, steamy scenes but nothing too crazy, sorta sexism, marty hart being himself, rust being pigheaded, mentions of sex, etc etc let me know if i missed anything (minors just don't bother interacting regardless thank you!)
word count: around 5.8k
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Never did you think that sitting in the passenger’s seat of Rustin Cohle’s red Ford pickup could have you seething as it did now. This wasn’t at all how your night was supposed to go and the culprit of said unsavory evening was sitting right next to you, cigarette pinched between tense fingers and eyes set hard on the dark highway ahead. The stubborn bastard had made no move to turn on the radio to save you both from the borderline unbearable silence. All you had was the humid Louisiana air from his rolled-down window flowing into the truck’s cabin and you couldn’t quite find it in you to be grateful for the fact he seemed to have kept in mind you detested the smell of that sour burning tobacco. 
Just who the hell does he think he is?
The question that repeated itself a mile a minute in your Coors-addled brain as it fought to catch up with all that just occurred not even a mere hour prior. Rust, as you already well knew, did not bother himself much when it came to others unless it strictly involved the endless trials of his work. That was the line he drew on a daily basis. Nothing could be clearer than the fact that Rust had little to no capacity for getting truly personal with most who existed in his orbit.
It was something you dealt with a bit better than the likes of your other partner Marty day in and day out at the CID. Though he may be one mystery wrapped in a more or less fucked up enigma, Rust’s way of functioning stayed relatively consistent. You didn’t dig often given that he wasn’t up and ready to offer much in the first place. He was sharp and strong-minded. Possessing most qualities that make well for a good investigative partner. Lines didn’t get muddled. It was how you preferred it. Up until recently, that is.
You didn’t have much nerve or will to go down that route right about now. 
Earlier in the day…
Your fingers were cramping at the end of typing the last dregs of the day’s reports. This recent case was starting to weigh heavier and heavier as an influx of countlessly cryptic details revealed themselves with each milestone of the investigative process. Something about this being darkly occultish as it was made it all the more daunting. There was a sense of underlying dread that this was something bigger than all of you. A sentiment you found yourself sharing with at least one of your partners: Rust. Marty on the other hand was still on the fence, not totally in the business of believing this was more than just some twisted piece of shit who had nothing better to do with his time. You wish you had half the mind to reduce it down to something so simple.
Strange things were not that of an irregular occurrence around these parts. Though said strange things didn’t have the habit of making it to the limelight as the Dora Lange case had. This wasn’t the type of case where one could be fine with just leaving it at work and picking it back up when they returned the next day as normal. Its disturbing details twisted themselves into every fiber of your daily life since that poor girl was found posed in Erath. It was better to eat, sleep, and breathe this case so that it may be solved all the more quickly. 
A world with one less monster like the one capable of committing a murder such as this is was a world where you could maybe sleep a little more soundly. 
Rolling your shoulders back, you twisted your aching neck side to side, resounding with an aching series of pops. God, I need a drink. You thought to yourself as you leaned back into the roller chair at your desk. The clock on your floor’s wall read 6:02. With all the work on your part done you figured you could slip out with much complaint. Stiffly rising from your spot, you started to pack away any necessary belongings into your well-loved messenger bag. Marty glanced up from his notes with a small quirk of his brow, “You headin’ out?”
Throwing your hair up to save yourself from the impending humidity from outside you replied, “Yeah. Need to wash the day off me and go grab a drink or somethin’. Bein’ out talkin’ to them church folk in the heat nearly all afternoon then witnessin’ Rust make that one boy shit himself was enough for the day.” 
Marty snorted to himself at that while Rust made no move to acknowledge your statement from his spot as he analyzed his comically large ledger. The blonde sipped his evening coffee as you finished gathering your things, “Don’t get too crazy tonight now. Lots to do in the days to follow I reckon the more this case stays befuddlin’ as is.”
You scoffed lightly, “I don’t doubt that. I’ll probably just head to that Blue Gator joint off the highway. Grab a few beers. Maybe a dance should one be willin’. Need’ta let loose is all.” 
“I’m sure any fella would be delighted to spin the night away with the likes of you, darlin’. Leave it at just dancin’ will ya?” Marty snickered a bit as you scowled and flipped him off idly. You notice in your peripheral Rust go still with a pen in hand but he didn’t make any move to look up or participate in the conversation. 
Continuing, you fix Marty with a half-hard look, “I’m sure you have your extracurricular activities beyond the job so it ain’t a sin to have my own. Anways, this is hardly an appropriate conversation to have betwixt coworkers, Martin. Keep your nose outta it.” 
Marty let out a surprised guffaw and placed an offended hand over his heart. Rust still hadn’t moved an inch from his position. When you let your gaze drift over towards the silent half of the duo you were met with that cold blue stare of his. The mere instance of contact left you feeling funnier than you’d prefer as of late. Things were starting to blossom into something a little different between you two after the few months of being in each other’s presence. He had been starting to open up in a manner he hadn’t bothered to when he first transferred to the CID here in Louisana. His presence had been quiet but no less intimidating, leaving you and Marty at a loss of what to do to prompt him out of his self-imposed shell.
Now, as this new case unfolded it seemed to trigger a sudden release of the deepest tidbits of his…intense opinions and values that went on within the inner workings of his mind. Marty often found himself wishing that Rust never bothered to open his mouth at all. Anything coming from the brooding Texan seemed to offend Hart on some deeper level one way or another.
For you, while it was not all that pleasant to constantly hear how fucked up we as a collective were and how life had little to no meaning, were intrigued nonetheless. You believed that Rust was just as human as everyone else despite him pushing himself as far away from that narrative as possible. He was just broken in a way that couldn’t ever be truly reversed. So while his infinitely dismal ramblings left you feeling more defeated about life than anything else at times, you couldn’t find it in you to really hold it against him. 
When it came to your dynamic, he seemed to have more of an unspoken respect for you than most of your colleagues did within the department. It wasn’t some radical declaration made by him that clued you in on the matter. He mostly just treated you the same as everyone else. Not inherently negative nor too positively outgoing where others could accuse him of giving you some form of special treatment. He listened to you and took your input into genuine consideration which was more than you could ask for when it came to working alongside any of your other male counterparts. However, there were these little instances within the recent weeks that had your mind (and heart) taking another route when it came to how Rust Cohle just might regard you. 
First, it started with fresh coffee materializing on your desk by the time you’d be strolling in at morning time. Two sugars with one cream and always in your favorite green mug ordained with hand-painted daisies. Very specific and not at all a detail that Marty ever bothered himself with remembering about you in the time you’d known each other. Not that you ever really cared. No one else here would ever think to offer you a damn thing unless it was maybe the lovely receptionist up at the front.
It wasn’t until one night you had forgotten your keys at your desk and made your way back inside the assumingly empty department only to find the Rust Cohle with sleeves pushed up to his elbows in the small office kitchen cleaning your daisy mug that you’d left haphazardly in the sink before leaving. You watched in silent awe as he had set it gently aside after drying it for what you assumed was for the next morning where he’d be the one who dutifully made your memorized coffee order in secret before your arrival. To him, the act was probably meaningless. 
To you, the simple scene made your heart squeeze in a way you didn’t think was possible. 
Next, it occurred when he started offering you rides to and fro after your car suffered a nasty rear-ending thus needing to have it sit in the shop for the time being. At first, it was a little nerve-wracking to be in close proximity without Marty present to break any drawn-out silences but after a while you’d found yourself in a rhythm you could call your own. Sometimes you’d talk, sometimes you’d sit and listen to whatever old country cassettes he had stowed away in his glove compartment. It was never dull to you. 
Each car ride had you piecing together factoids that unfurled into the evergrowing idea that was your new(ish) partner. You still found yourself sharing more about your own life than he did more often than not but you were okay with that. Even if he wasn’t the most reactive of men, you knew he held on to every word. Anything he decided to sparingly share had you doing the same with a reverence you weren’t sure you carried for anyone else.  
After getting your car back and no longer needing his chauffeur services a silent agreement had followed. Neither party was completely ready to let go of the pleasant thirty-three minutes permitted to be spent together outside of work. It was decided that he’d drive you home on nights you happened to leave late, deeming it too dangerous to be traveling home at odd hours in the night although you had already been doing so plenty before he manifested into your life.
Eventually, he even found himself at your house one day after having determined that your porch steps needed fixing…or that your gutters should be cleared…or that the lawn was looking a little too overgrown than what was acceptable. Small acts where you felt that maybe he wanted to be in your presence a bit longer than normally desired when it came to his usual limits of socialization.
Seeing him working around your property with that sweat-soiled wife beater of his and those lithe, god-given arms made that squeeze in your heart reach new heights and your tongue feel like lead. Who knew such pictures of domesticity could have this intense of a hold over you? You usually prided yourself in not being so easily affected by men. Though it wasn’t necessarily news that Rust was his own brand of a striking handsome that stood out against most men you’d come across. The sweet tea you’d supply for the dreadful heat when he’d carry out his projects ended up being more for your own benefit than his.
You caught yourself feeling greedy for more of his presence as he made himself an increasingly present fixture in your life. Which realistically…couldn’t lead to any sort of good. 
Bringing yourself back to now, his gaze held an emotion you couldn’t quite place. Hell, most times it was hard enough to know exactly what he was thinking unless he outright declared it. Maybe it was disapproval? Judgement? It wasn’t likely that he wanted to hear about your potential escapades. You probably wouldn’t want to hear of his either (not that he ever does speak of it if he even engages in that sort of activity) but you’d be coming from a different place on that matter. He returns to the pages of his ledger after deciding to break the staring spell, “I don’t see what sorta grand company could be found at an establishment such as the Green Gator.”
 His tone came out a bit too passive for your liking. Bordering the ugly lines of judgy which was something that rubbed you wrong entirely, “It’s the Blue Gator-”
“Oh hush up, Mr. High and Mighty. Not every man is as intellectually driven as you find yourself. Most men want fun and ain’t gonna pass it up when it’s in front of em’. They don’t need nearly as much as you do to get their rocks off.” Marty angles himself towards Rust in his chair, already willing to bat for you in his more than unhelpful way. 
Rust just scoffed and shook his head slightly, “Wouldn’t expect a thing from anyone in this vast shithole…buncha ignorant shitheels with no sense of fuckin’…” He muttered the rest of his ramblings detailing the severe lack of intelligence that the people of Louisiana seemed to hold while bringing his attention back to his ledger. 
His shoulders were set in a harder line than usual. Marty got a kick out of it all, reducing Rust’s distaste to not being able to participate in normalcy like anybody else in the world could.    
On your end, it struck a nerve that he clearly found your plans more than dissatisfactory. It left an unpleasant taste in your mouth to be on the potential receiving end of Rust’s ruthless judgments.
“You forget him, y/n. You have yourself a good ol’ time with whatever strappin’ young man of your choosing should he be lucky. Don’t let grumpy guss piss on your parade.” 
You find yourself grimacing at how much focus on you and the prospect of potentially getting laid has been put. You look back to Rust but he seemed to be no longer interested in your presence, back in his own world and on the case. Patting Marty on the shoulder you finally make your way to head out, “G’night. I’d love it if we never brought any of this up again. Page me if anythin’ comes up.” 
“Y’got it, darlin’. You stay safe.” Marty points at you a bit more seriously and you nod in slight exasperation with a soft ‘got it’ before officially leaving. Rust hadn’t said another word which left you feeling all sorts of confused. Relieved he didn’t further insult your plans for a night out? Disappointed he didn’t put up much of a fight when it came to you maybe trying to avoid any of your current problems with the company of another man? You don’t know what you expected but you did know that you needed to get it together and just let this shit go even for just one night. 
And what a night it would be indeed. 
Night at the Blue Gator…
The night was proving to be a bit more than uneventful. Perhaps uneventful was just about the only thing your mind could handle at the given moment with everything else going on. The lingering feeling of Rust’s disapproval had also left you more affected than desired. With a few Coors in your system, you find your gaze a little hazy as it passes around the kitschy establishment.
Some George Strait song filters through the bar on top of the active chatter of the patrons taking up a surprising amount of space for a Wednesday night. The cute little black dress you managed to find in your closet and squeeze into was becoming less than ideal as you found yourself hearing the siren call of just calling it quits and crawling into bed back home. Clean sheets and reruns of something like The Golden Girls…absolute fucking heaven right about now. 
Briefly pressing your perspiring bottle to your forehead, you soon enough were roped into a dance as some lively Brooks and Dunne tune came on. The fella who managed to drag you on the dancefloor was decent enough. A bit short and plenty bald… with maybe a tad too eager of hands for your tastes that left you feeling a bit removed from the experience as a few more songs went on. You weaseled yourself out of the crowd after ‘promising’ baldy (named Rex or Tex but who’s to really care) you’d make your return after grabbing a refreshment. 
Making your way to the bar your legs come to a sudden halt at the sight of a familiar figure slouched on a stool. After your brief shock shifted into a brewing irritation, your feet found themselves mobile again as you sidle next to Rust and order yourself another drink. He put out his cigarette as soon as you were near his side but made no motion to speak so you find yourself shooting first.
“For a place you couldn’t bother gettin’ the name right of you can color me surprised to see you here.”
“A man ain’t allowed to drink after work?” Is his flat reply. 
You put your hands up in mock defense, “No need for my permission. Just didn’t think you’d grace the simpletons ‘round here when you can have a drink for free and in peace in the comforts of your own home.” 
Rust didn’t have anything to say to that, instead lifting his own drink to his lips, “That man sure had a grip on ya. Doesn’t seem the type you’d to give the time of day to. Less’ you’re that compelled to blow off steam.” 
The thinly veiled nonchalance of his insult didn’t go past you. Instead, it caused you to bristle only in the way you could when you had a few drinks in you, a bit more sensitive and a helluva lot more confrontational. Who was he to judge how you spend your time? Let alone who the hell you spend it with? You set your new drink down with more force than necessary and felt your face starting to get hot. 
“I can dance with just about anybody.”
“That’s been made clear.”
“And why in god’s name do you care exactly just who it is I dance with?”
“Don't remember ever givin' the implication that I quite cared.” Calculated blue flitted over you as if bored. But you knew better.
“I’m sorry, did you just come here to make me out to be some desperate whore for drinkin’ and dancin’ when I’m a grown-” That got his expression to fall with something closely resembling alarm. 
“That ain’t-”
“Last I checked I can do whatever I so fuckin’ please. Do not go insertin’ yourself in the aspects of my life in which you are not fuckin’ concerned. Some of us are lonely and tired and can’t take comfort in stupid murder manuals or severe stretches of solitude. Call it my shitty programmin’ but that’s just how it is for most people. If I wanna drink and let a greaseball feel me up then that’s entirely up to me! Shit, it might be dumber than hell but it’s not like I’m gonna sit and wait around for you to make a move! That’s if you even feel a speck of the way I’m startin’ to towards you. Knowin’ you you’ve probably noticed and just like to see me embarrassed or somethin’.”
 Everything was coming out like one big bout of word vomit. There was an even deeper change in Rust’s demeanor but you were too tipsy and too angry to pay much notice. The burning behind your eyes grew stronger as you threw up a finger to jab at his shoulder,
“It is not up to you to judge people for the shit they do that you deem is beneath you every chance you get. You’re not perfect yourself and I know you know it. But thanks anyway for making me feel like a fuckin’  stupid loser-” Your heated rant was interrupted by a fat mitt of a hand making its way around your waist. 
“This fella botherin’ you, honey?” The hot whiskey-riddled breath of Tex or Lex or whoever the fuck immediately made your nose wrinkle in disgust. Your patience had run its due course for the night as you roughly shoved him off you,
“Oh come off it, Dex-”
“It’s Rex.”
“I don’t care no more I’m leavin’.” You threw a couple bills on the bar’s surface before making your move past both the offending men. Rex had different ideas and made the choice of gripping your arm tightly without much remorse despite your loud protest. 
“You still owe me a dance, bitch. Where d’ya think you’re goin-”
“You best get your hands off her, boy.” Rust’s glare was off-putting even to you. Rex was either too stupid or too drunk to really care as he attempted to yank you back towards him. With your heart racing, all you could think to do was take your heel-adorned food and stomp on his booted one hard. The short bastard yelped as he let you go, giving you the room to skirt past him far enough just in time for Rust to take him by the collar and send him reeling with a swift punch.   
Rex surprisingly regained momentum and took his chance to get a lick back at Rust but his opponent was already plenty steps ahead of him. Rust took Rex’s fist, twisting it behind the shithead’s back, and slammed his head into the bar countertop with a sick thud. A commotion had well enough formed by now and it was your obvious cue to start hustling your way out. Rust spit on the man who now had made a home on the sticky floorboards before turning to you. Your chest was heaving as you made way to open your mouth but he wouldn’t hear it as he grabbed your arm and started leading you out. 
The bar doors slammed open and the persistently thick air of the South drove you further into rage. You yanked your arm a few times until finally freeing yourself from his clutches. He didn’t stop to acknowledge you, instead making his way toward his truck as if expecting you to faithfully trail behind.
“Where exactly do you get off?!” You demanded, struggling to keep up in your heels which then had you electing to nearly fall over yourself trying to rip them off.
No answer.
“I’m talkin’ to you! What the hell is wrong with you?” Your feet were finally free on the warm pavement of the parking lot. You still received no reply.
“RUSTIN.” Your throat nearly felt raw at the volume of your hollering. He stopped at his truck’s passenger door and opened it. The blood in your veins thrummed while your head and heart felt like they were going to burst out of their respective places. 
“Get in the truck.”
“Absolutely not.” 
“You’re drunk-”
“You ain't one to talk. Don’t think I ain’t seen those bottles of cough syrup in your car or them pill bottles you got! I’ll make it just fine-"
“Y/n.” His low baritone left no room for argument, nor did his hard stare. You felt like a petulant child staring back at him with your arms crossed. 
Your will to break was unshakeable but you had the inclination that if you pushed him hard enough he’d have you in that passenger seat even if you came kicking and screaming. Huffing out a harsh breath you half stomped your way over and climbed in. Grabbing the handle for yourself you slammed the door before he had the chance to close it for you. You felt a lick of petty satisfaction when you saw his shoulders drop and a hand come up to squeeze the back of his neck. It wasn’t often you could catch Rust off-guard, let alone see him visibly exasperated.
After a moment or two, he rounded his way to the driver’s side and got inside with noticeably less ruckus than you did. He lit a cigarette as he pulled out of the parking lot, but not before rolling down the window in consideration of you. Bastard. 
“My car better find its way back into my damn driveway come morning.” 
He remained silent for the rest of the way.
Back to the present…
Pulling up to your house, the truck hadn’t even made a complete stop before you unbuckled and hastily hopped on out. You only stumbled a bit as the old Ford squeaked behind you in what was probably the harsh fashion in which Rust must’ve slammed on his brakes at your sudden escape. You heard the truck get thrown into park and a heavy slam of a door shutting as you quickened your pace up the pathway to your front porch. Your heaving breaths were drowned out by the frogs and nearby cicadas that created their own little symphony on your property. You knew Rust was following you but you naively hoped you’d make it up to shut the door in his face just in time. 
'Fuck, I forgot my shoes.’ Was your narrow thought as you fumbled for your key ring in the endless depths of your purse. Rust’s footsteps grew closer causing you to whip around and shove him back with a clumsy force much to his surprise. 
“Don’t you come followin’ me! I’ve had just about enough of you!”
“Listen-”
“No you listen! Never have I been more embarrassed than you’ve made me tonight. Never have I felt more stupid and small all because you decided today was the day I’d be on the shit end of your scathing criticisms! You can fuck right off with that mess. I’m goin’ to bed.” You turned to start your trek before he spoke up again,
“My intentions were not to come by and make you feel stupid.”
A near-jarring laugh clawed its way from your system, “Oh, so that’s your twisted way of makin’ a girl feel cared for. Is that it?” 
He let out a frustrated sound, “What’d you mean by startin’ to feel a certain way towards me. Back at the bar.”
Your heart nearly dropped out of your ass just then. Did you really blab on about that somewhere in the middle of your tirade? God, you could just about go feed yourself to the gators right now. Work would no doubt be complete hell after this nightmare of an outing.
“Take it how you want it. I know with you being as perceptive as you are it shouldn’t come as a mystery what I might feel. You do plenty towards me that’s had me foolishly thinkin’ there could be a one in a million chance of somethin’ but no dice. So what I want to know is why did you follow me out. Why did you come all this way to ruin my night.” 
The silence was biting as he offered up no explanation. He seemed to be trying to figure out that answer himself. Instead of the petty satisfaction you felt from seeing him at a loss earlier, he seemed well and truly bothered now which left a sinking feeling in your gut. The thought of the immovable force in front of you being this bothered when it came to matters involving you just made you all the more disoriented. There was only one other plausible explanation as to why he went through all this trouble to insert himself into the mix. 
You could almost fall to your knees laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of your creeping realization. It couldn’t be. There was just no way. But given the miserable look of Rust’s obvious inner battle on what he should decide to say to you had you gawking. 
The man was jealous. Rustin Cohle, feeler of nothing and believer of none, was jealous. A fit of giggles made their way out of you before you could help it. It might’ve been in poor taste during the seriousness of the moment between you both but you couldn’t stop. Rust seemed all the more distressed as if he’d been caught red-handed. Stripped bare in front of you despite no real accusation of his behavior being made quite yet. 
“If I knew any better I’d say you were plain jealous, Rust. Can’t say I see you bein’ capable of actin’ so irrationally. I thought entertainin’ such primal notions was too beneath you. Especially should it involve lil ol’ me.”
But he was indeed more than susceptible to all the irrational factors of his so-called programming when it came to you. You were beautiful. Mind, body, and soul. Your presence brought things to the surface he didn’t believe he could ever have the experience of feeling again. It scared him shitless. Having to face what was making his old tired heart beat into a lively rhythm again after convincing himself things of that nature were abysmally futile. Even as you stood in front of him now, with eyes and hair looking something fiercely wild, feet bare and dirtied from your lack of shoes in that high-cut black ensemble you had on. He absolutely knew that he couldn’t bring himself to deny what his programming was demanding of him when it came to the unknowing hold you had over him. Flexing his shaking fingers as if to render them steady he took a slow approach to you. 
This was a moment where you had neither the sense nor the imagination to anticipate what he’d do next. It was as if your heart had forgotten how to keep itself beating. This was the closest you had found yourself in his proximity. Being able to see every fine detail of the tragically beautiful man in front of you could have left you speechless for the rest of your days.
A large, calloused hand came to cup your jaw then the other followed. Both nearly took up the entire sides of your face, and their warmth made you feel as if you were on fire. His grip was firm… more so intenful if you were to put a name to it. Eyes searched each other in the most tortuously bated moment you’d ever found yourself being victim to. If you were to move an inch or look away the spell might be broken forever and you think you might just collapse if that were to happen. When had you gotten this dramatic?
Kiss me. God, kiss me. Just kiss me. You thought over and over as if willing it into his mind. Then, as if he heard you through some unspoken link, he did. 
It was like being let in on one big universal secret that couldn’t be fathomed by most. Never had you thought a kiss could wield as much power as Rust’s did. For being such a hard and withdrawn individual, the feeling of his slightly chapped lips on your plush ones felt nothing short of soul-bearing and endlessly warm. Trailing your hands up his broad chest, the quick pitter-pattering of his heart didn’t go past you. Drawing your palms up further you reach to lace deft fingers into the sandy waves that you’d secretly been aching to touch for a while now. His breath faltered as you pulled back for a brief moment. It wasn’t long before the invisible magnet between you both had you returning for more. 
The kiss turned more intense, bodies pressing and molding into each other as if you could become one entity. His tongue traced the seams of your lips and you had no qualms with letting him invade your senses further. The need for air was becoming harder to ignore but no force on earth could rip you away. The desire for him was something you’d not felt for another person in you’re not sure how long. If not ever. His breath held traces of the Lonestar he’d been cradling and the cigarette he’d deeply pulled on the way here and it had you absolutely hooked as it curled into your mouth. You didn’t know how long the pair of you stood on your porch necking like a bunch of desperate teenagers but by the time he pulled away you felt dizzy at the sight of his flushed complexion and swollen lips. Possessiveness gripped your being at the thought of being able to have such an effect on him. You. No one else. 
Rust’s grip loosened on your heated face as he planted one last sweet kiss on you before stepping away entirely. It was a shock that you had any remaining strength to keep yourself upright. His expression seemed a bit more relaxed, a bit too casual for what just transpired. There was a brief pause. 
“Don’t go out dancin’ anymore.” 
With that, he turned and made his slow descent back to his truck. Snapping out of your daze once the words sunk into the crevices of your Rust-drunk brain you quirked a brow, 
 “If that’s your odd way of layin’ claim on me I think I’m gonna need to ask for a more straightforward redo, mister.” 
You saw his shoulders shake slightly in amusement as the night found itself ending on a more playful albeit confusing note, “G’night, y/n.”
“I’m bein’ serious, Rust. You can’t just kiss a girl like that then waltz on out. I have questions.” You pointed.    
 “I’ll see ya tomorrow.” The cowboy gave a slight wave and then got into his truck. Oh, you could wipe that subtly growing smirk right off his stupid face. His dry sense of humor made its presence known at what you thought was the most inopportune of times. You stood there watching his truck disappear into the night, the ghost of him sticking to you like molasses. Your fingertips graced your buzzing lips and you could’ve started giggling again like some schoolgirl. How ridiculous indeed. 
You were so not letting any of this go when you got into work tomorrow.
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melukonova · 9 months ago
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LOVING SEPHIROTH, sephiroth x reader.
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tw. mentions of his hurtful past, emotional abuse that miniroth didn't deserve :( this post can be seen as suggestive but it's left mostly to your interpretation
a/n. for @silverflqmes , my best friend who has inspired me to write yet again for something i love and for writing various requests for me, indulging me in my own happiness. you are never leaving this deep hole of ff7 that i dug for you AHAHAHAH! this is also for the many fans who have made fanfics and such that have shaped me now<3 much love to you all! (i will make more headcanons if this gets love) also sephiroth might be a little ooc since he's new territory of writing for me :,)
info. very lovable and soft sephiroth<3 very short blurbs! inspired by the song everything by lifehouse, i can see him relating about you, the reader, and how he feels for you. enjoy! pre-nibelheim!!!
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𐚁. sephiroth's love language can be seen as quality time as seen with the time he spent with genesis and angeal, he grew very attached easily. i can see this in a similiar way since i'm sure once you've caught sephiroth's eye, you're happily in his heart. he enjoys just being together, perhaps he'll teach you how to use masamune (a toy version at least since he wants to protect you from injuries). don't get me wrong, every other love language applies for him too but i know he's happiest with the fact that you're there by his side.
𐚁. he is very awkward with affection so the first time you hold him, i think he wouldn't know what to do but he'll awkwardly pat your back while trying not to freak out a bit by being touched since he was experimented on as a child. please teach him how to love, he didn't get enough as kid... i think being patient with him would also warm his heart with you as well. he isn't the best with people, just in using his sword... which is why it's an anomaly to him if you stuck around for this long.
𐚁. indulging ellie on this one: sephiroth with a kitten. he probably is the one to adopt a kitten out of the two of you except what you didn't expect was him to basically mother the kitten. i think his wounds are still healing from the fact that the locket of his mother was torn away from him.. but you guys both loved that kitten very much, naming saikou which means radiance. it is the radiance of both of your lives and definitely a way to heal from your guys' pain, whatever it may be from your end but i know sephiroth suffers from loneliness and feeling not good enough. he feels this much less because of you though and of course, saikou. saikou is now your love rival... the kitty is his precious baby but you are his most prized treasure.
𐚁. while i said quality time is his favorite love language, i think that he likes physical affection as well since he never really knew what it's like to be loved. he wanted to learn though as well as learn to love you which led to teaching him how to cuddle. still very awkward, he's trying his very hardest as he pats your head and encases you into his body. eventually it led to couch cuddles every time he came home from work, he won't say it out loud but this is his favorite part of being able to be with you. he is so beyond smitten.
𐚁. as sephiroth had been in SOLDIER all of his life, he's not completely sure the best way to comfort you on many things but what he can do is to give you a better night! he'd come home with flowers since somehow zack had talked him into buying flowers from his girlfriend, what can i say? zack was a persuasive businessman and sephiroth had no clue how to be a good boyfriend. he'd probably panic if he couldn't make you feel better, he just wants you happy and would slay his enemies (those who wronged you). he'd indulge you in just about anything that you wanted to do between him trying on your favorite dress, self-care day with face masks, kisses all over to make you less insecure or just to feel more loved, an ice cream date, etc. you name it and it's done. he'd even sneak you into the training room on the SOLDIER floor to take you on a loving date with an even more beautiful sunset but all he could see was his sun, you.
𐚁. you already know his hair care routine since it was leaked from your mail, did i mention you were apart of sephiroth's fan club? he uses a WHOLE bottle of shampoo and conditioner. one day you had to braid his hair, adding in flowers to his hair as you braided it. he loved it since it kept his face clear for combat, meanwhile genesis and angeal snickered at him since his s/o made him look all pretty so none of his enemies would take him seriously. masamune said differently than his hair did. if somebody ruined the artwork of your braiding? they ALSO had a date with masamune.
𐚁. he doesn't like a lot of attention as many would say since he is so famous. this is the big question, how did you enter his life in comparison to the fangirls? you understood him. it was a new feeling for him and he didn't know how much he would end up loving it. no thirsting over how hot he was or saying how strong he had been. just a simple: "i know you've been working hard for so long, you deserve some rest," was enough to make him moved by you. nobody could compare to you in his innocent heart. he was so new to every experience, every hug, every kiss, and every touch you gave him. each time was something new that he had learned to love about you and eventually love about himself as well. you helped him to understand he was more than a monster, more than a soldier, more than just a test subject.
𐚁. what you hadn't expect is to find a loving sephiroth in the kitchen with you, holding you close to him as you listened to italian cooking music (the pasta addict in me thinks he'd want to learn more about pasta and its origin). his head was leaning down towards yours while staring down at your lips as you both had been swaying. his hand had been on your waist and the other had been moving up from your shoulder, over your neck slowly with care, to your soft cheek. capturing you in his lips, the water had boiled over but he didn't care at that moment. the thing he clung onto most was this moment because at this moment, sephiroth just knew. he was in love and he finally felt free as he deepened the kiss. he knew where home was and he was kissing his own home, taking in all of what makes you so lovable as well.
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melukonova, 2024. 𐀔
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bonny-kookoo · 1 year ago
Note
Does someone older JK spoil the OC sometimes? Like surprise her with something which he considerd to be nothing it would mean so much to her?
Oh he does, ALL the time! Warnings for a bit of angst, beginnings of a panic attack but Kook handles it well
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"...we can go there again, maybe before new year's if I can get a table on short notice." He simply says as he drives you both back to his place, radio playing quietly in the background.
You're still a little overwhelmed.
He does things like this a lot- expensive dinner dates in restaurants he either knows or wants to try out, randomly buying you clothes or jewelry he finds online and deems pretty, or he just changes things in his house to adjust it more towards you and your preferences. Like the pillows in his bedroom, the by now multiple pairs of thick socks for your cold feet, or the baking supplies he bought for you now stacking up in his kitchen.
It's things like that you're not used to. In the past, it has always been you who needed to adjust and do things for your partner- not the other way around. So now, you feel almost guilty whenever he does something- like a bank account draining, slowly going further and further into the negatives, red numbers piling up and making you anxious as to when he'll want it all payed back.
"Did you not like it?" He wonders, taking your silence as a sign of discomfort as he pulls up on the expressway. "You don't have to lie." He chuckles, reaching out to hold your hand.
"No, it's not that." You deny, letting him warm up your cold fingers. "It's just.. it was a little expensive, no?" You wonder, and he shrugs.
"Was it? To be honest, I don't think it was considering what we ate." He just brushes off. "I've been to steak restaurants that were a lot more expensive and half the quality. And the service was great too, so I didn't mind." Jungkook explains, and it's now that you realize once again that you and him live in quite different worlds. Or at least, used to.
For him, money isn't an issue. He's made and is making enough of it to live comfortably, he doesn't have to really worry about running out of it anytime soon, even if his company was to go bankrupt next week. And he's also got enough saved up, has invested with good tactics in mind, so it's really no wonder he doesn't see a problem in spending the amount that he does.
But you aren't used to that. You have been living paycheck to paycheck with barely anything left over at the end of the month, needing your bonus desperately as to not fall behind on any payments you have to make regularly. You've lost your apartment before, had to sleep at friend's places to get by, and even ate only at the company cafeteria to save money usually spent on groceries. All of this feels almost excessive, and you also worry.
What if Jungkook starts spending too much on you? He shouldn't fall into a habit of mindlessly throwing money out.
"What's on your mind, darling?" He wonders, lifting your hand to kiss the back of it, before he changes lanes.
"I just.." you fidget a little. Jungkook isn't a bad guy. He won't get mad. He won't scold you. You won't have to endure being lectured for the rest of the ride- you know all this, and yet again, the past haunts you and makes your breathing pick up as you begin to chew on your lip.
Suddenly, you realize he's pulling up to a gas station, parking on the side. He gets out to get something from the backseat, before he walks around the car to open the passenger door where you sit, unbuckling your seatbelt. "Here." he offers the bottle of water, having opened the cap for you. "Put your legs out like that- there we go. Breathe baby." He gently tells you, squatting down a bit to make himself look smaller. "Take your time."
You feel embarrassed. How do you explain to him that you were feeling like a kid about to confess a bad grade just now?
"We can keep it a one-in-a-month thing, maybe, if that makes you more comfortable." He proposes. "I didn't take into account that it might be overwhelming to you- I'm sorry." He apologizes, but you shake your head, looking down at your knees.
"I just.." You mumble, unsure how to really explain. "I feel.. back then, you know.." You sigh, having trouble finding the proper words. "Talking in the car makes me.. anxious." You admit. "Because you know, when you get mad.. I can't escape.." You say. "I can't get away from it."
Jungkook kindly takes the bottle away from you to put it on the backseat again, before he's back in front of you.
"Thanks for telling me. I had an idea it might be that, but I wasn't sure." Jungkook says, hands on your knees. "I promise you I'm not mad. And I'm in no position to be mad at you for having opinions or personal taste that might differs from mine. We're two different people-" He chuckles. "-of course we'll have different views on things."
"But I really liked the dinner too." You say. "I just.. I don't want you to start.. spending so much money on me to the point of, I don't know, losing sight of it." You confess. "And maybe, we should keep stuff like this a bit rare? So it doesn't become routine. I want to keep it special.." You say. "I'm not.. I don't really know much about this stuff, because I never had enough money to go to these fancy places, and get designer clothes, or plan vacations in different countries and all that. I feel.. stupid sometimes?" You spill, making him lean his head a bit to the side. "Like, what if you one day take me to a company gathering or something, and someone asks me something and I can't answer or I say something dumb-" You rant. "-or maybe you won't ever take me because I'm too young? Maybe Eve is right and I'm not really the kind of-"
"Baby, darling, stop-" He chuckles, pushing your shoulders back a bit to look at him. "-take a good breath. You're panicking." He worries a little, but tries hard to stay composed as to not make you spiral any further. "Eve is wrong. If you're okay with this, of course I'll take you to company events. Why wouldn't I show off such a beautiful women at my side? I'd never pass up a chance to make those stuck up geezers jealous." He jokes, making your crack up a little. "Let's keep the dinners to special occasions. Keep it special, like you said." He offers, holding your hands now. "And I'm also.. the fact that you worry about me makes me feel.. very special." he chuckles. "I appreciate you looking out for me."
"I always look out for you.." You mumble. "..I just don't want to overstep any lines. You know. Since you're older than me-"
"Just because I'm older doesn't automatically mean that I know everything better." He reassures you. "Our age gap has nothing to do with any sort of power balance. Please don't think you can't speak your mind just because I was born earlier than you."
"..okay." You nod, and he leans forward to peck your lips, before he closes the door for you after you pull your legs back in and buckle your seatbelt, him getting back into the driver's seat to do the same.
"You know.." he starts, as he pulls out of the gas station to continue the drive back home. "..I'm really falling in love with you." He chuckles, dimples of his cheeks showing with how hard he smiles.
"Huh?" You wonder, taken aback by the sudden confession.
"I mean it." He nods. "I really am."
"I'm glad then." You admit. "..cause I am too." You admit, making him grin before he reaches over to hold your hand again.
Knowing that he really won't ever let you go again.
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s3thwrit3sstuff · 11 months ago
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❝ you make me feel like I am clean again ❞
yandere!mob leaders x gn!reader | how you met | not proofread
warnings: graphic description of violence, guns, power imbalance (r! is part of the gang but they are a low-ranking member), yandere tendencies, mentions of drug dealings, very brief mention of r! getting felt up by someone in JH's section
masterlist ;
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authors note: doing some oc writing feels lowkey daunting but I hope you guys enjoy it, I wasn't exactly sure how to format this aaaa but! I hope it isn't too confusing. I wanted to go more into depth but I suppose this serves as an introductory post to them??? IDK, I've never written this kinda thing before. * here is the better-quality post of the illustration * song on repeat: Love Song by Mariee Sioux
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Kim Seo-Yun —
Seo-Yun would be unimpressed the first time she laid her eyes on you. It wouldn't be due to your looks, mannerisms, voice; she's just been hardwired that way.
Wants and needs are hard to convey when you're running one of the most dangerous businesses one could run. Drugs, gambling, skin, weapons — Seo-Yun's a busy woman.
Over time, however, she'll let her gaze linger on you.
Have you always looked so good in that colour? It really does bring out the shine in your eyes, and the suppleness of your lips. Seo-Yun's gaze is intimidating but seeing you squirm is all a part of your charm.
That's right. You're only dressing and acting this way to grab her attention, correct? Why else would she find it so hard to rip her sights from you?
Honestly, she shouldn't be making such frequent trips to the lower ring of her gang. This warehouse was meant to weed out the weakest of her guard dogs. It reeked of sweat and blood and cigarettes and cheap booze. The constant sounds of wrapped knuckles beating down on sandbags and bodies falling on thin mats gave her a headache.
Yet. She stands here on the second floor, gazing down at the sweaty men, a handful of women, and most importantly; you.
Favoritism comes slower than her interests. Seo-Yun will shove her feelings down until it bursts like a fucking volcano. All of a sudden, it's as if she's a hound that's caught the scent of their kill.
"What?" The man before you is wearing an expensive suit, luxury adorning him from the shimmering cuffs to the stitching that holds it together. "Madam Kim is requesting your transfer," he says curtly.
The transfer promotes you from doing grunt work near a polluted harbor to one of Seoul's most expensive penthouses in Gangnam.
It's jarring. She does not give you time to adjust. One moment you're setting down your duffel bag of things and the next you're in the back of a luxury car driving through Seoul's wealthiest district.
The guards (who are double your size and proudly show off their facial scars) push you toward the door of a seamstress. The very air you breathe smells like money.
When you see Seo-Yun, your eyes widen and you kneel to bow.
She muffles her amusement with a slow drag of her cigarette.
"They're very pretty, Madam Seo-Yun," a kindly old lady says from behind her. Her hands were bony and delicate, and the pin cushion she wore around her wrist looked heavy. Everything about her seemed deliberate and put together.
Despite that, despite the glamorous patterns she had on her and the jewelry hanging from her ears; Seo-Yun called for eyes on her with no more than a simple wave of her hand, flicking the ashes away from the cigarette.
"Aren't they? Such a gem."
Seo-Yun orders you to be a part of her security team. Dresses you in custom-made suits to blend in with the rest of the capable men and women. She gives you new weapons and arranges for you to have an apartment near hers. New fake IDs in store, local beat cops turning their gaze away as you smoke in alleyways with an obvious bulk under your jacket.
A gem she called you. And like a gem, she cannot keep her eyes off you.
Stares at you as if you were put on display. Relishes in the way you keep your gaze down, squaring your shoulders, straightening your posture — squirming under her gaze.
"Come inside," you freeze at her words. The other security guards stand stoically in the private entryway of her penthouse and she stands on the threshold of that obscenely large and heavy door.
"Madam?" you squeak out. She narrows her upturned eyes, like a goddess with no mood to be asked twice.
This is a nightly occurrence. It becomes a routine.
She invites you into her home, leaving the door open for you to close on your way in. She sits on the tufted leather sofa, and her grin is expectant.
You kneel. Then, you bring your palms to the floor and crawl towards her. Only stopping when your chin is on her knee and you bring your eyes to meet hers.
"Sweet thing," she'll coo. Her palm is soft and cared for, but there is the slightest bit of callousness here and there. That roughness that comes with holding a gun to someone's head.
The first time she had told you to kneel, you'd been so confused you stood there like a statue. Seo-Yun gives you a minute to let it click, and she tilts her head as you jerkily kneel on her expensive floors.
"Crawl to me."
"Sweet darling," she continues. Your eyes flutter close as she traces your cheekbones with her thumb. "So good for me, so obedient, aren't you?"
How could you not be?
In the weeks you'd been with her, your life took such a drastic turn. Well-fed, well-cared for, and pampered in little but big ways. You were the runt of the litter, a stray, she told you.
She had seen you, she said. She had seen your potential, your drive, your passion.
"I was...I just, I just needed the money, Madam," you sheepishly admit that first night, balancing your chin on her knee.
Who would choose to become the grunt of a dangerous gang? Miniscule soldiers with dreams of dying a movie-worthy death, of brotherly bonds between hardened criminals — Please. You were at the end of your rope, this was the only option before the noose.
"Money is life," Seo-Yun strokes over your cheeks. "You fought to live, climbed through the muddy filth of the pier, and here you are. In my lap."
"I see you, (Y/N)."
"Are you tired?" the shake of your head earns a firm squeeze on your jaw. Your eyes flutter open so she grins sweetly.
"Bathe with me." She lifts your chin and you stand, taking her into your arms as she tugs on the shoulder gun strap you wore, leading you along like a leash. A security guard's job does not include such tasks. You're aware. But how could you say no to the most powerful woman in Seoul?
Your relationship starts off with a clear dynamic. You belong to Seo-Yun, no ifs or buts. No matter how dubious your feelings towards her are, you cannot deny there is such a lovely prospect of being a powerful person's beloved.
Or gem. Or pet. Or...whatever it is Seo-Yun considers you as.
All you know is you are hers and she expects nothing but loyalty and excellence from you. She dresses you in the best, feeds you the best foods, your mattress is hers and therefore it is fit for a Queen.
How spoiled are you, (Y/N)?
So spoiled you do not even realise the pretty cage she's put around you. Don't realise that those pearly white gates are her own teeth as she closes her jaws; too distracted by the gifts, the love, she showers you in.
Exactly how she wants you to be. Pliant, demure, and hers.
So what if your old friends suddenly never contact you again? Or your financial dependence has suddenly been transferred to her? If you never hold a gun in your hands ever again.
"Crawl to me, baby."
And you do. And she grins as she holds your face.
"Good pet."
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Kim Jeong-Hyun —
Jeong-Hyun is a peculiar man. Some would argue he's barely a man; others would chime that he's barely human. The sight of the deep scars on his body; the mutilated side of his face. His left ear was chewed off, his left eye cloudy, and a good chunk of his lips ripped off to reveal gums and teeth.
Even if he wasn't a monster; he looked it. That was enough to set people on edge. Seemingly unaware of how he plants the fear of God within people, Jeong-Hyun stares at everyone with a dark gaze that could make the devil shiver.
Unlike his older sister, who hides her emotions until they spill over the edge, he makes his interest known from the beginning.
His good eye, lighter than any brown you've ever seen; a molten hazel that flashes gold in sunlight, devours you as he stands before you.
Although Madam Seo-Yun attends the funerals of her fallen men, she does not linger for the drinking and eating. Jeong-Hyun does.
You'd excused yourself from your circle, the drinks making your body warm enough to endure the cold night air as you light up a cigarette.
The clicking of nails on the brick ground forces you to look at the whimpering dog. Mangy, fur matted, and with its stubby legs like rubber as it paws at your shoe. It was someone's pet, left on the streets. Judging from the overgrown fur, it's been a while since someone's given it any kindness.
Jeong-Hyun had just walked out for a breather (he enjoys spending time with his men, but the noises and the scent of booze could get overwhelming), a bag of meat in hand as he set his sights on feeding the local strays.
But then he sees you crouched by an alleyway, pouring some cheap kibble you bought from a nearby convenience store onto some newspaper. Jeong-Hyun's footsteps are ghostlike, you don't even notice he's there until you feel his breath whisper along your ear and when you spin he's statue-like.
"B — Boss!" He's not the boss — he's just her brother. He still outranked you (by a whole league) so, he doesn't correct you as you bow your head so far down it's between your knees.
He looks silly crouched down in his two-piece suit. You're dressed formally, though the two of you were in different financial brackets. Jeong-Hyun does not speak. The pinkish scar that runs across his neck peeks from the collar of his button-up. It has your toes curling just imagining what had caused it.
He nudges the plastic bag your way, and you cautiously take it from him. To your surprise, he squishes his eyes into crescent moons, and despite his scarred cheek lifting from behind the black surgical mask he wore he looked so...innocent.
The rounded shape of his eyes, the deep crease of his eyelid, and his brows - it all makes him look boyish.
You turn your attention to the strips of expensive beef he had gotten, feeding the poor puppy in silence.
Jeong-Hyun's interest begins with him accompanying your crew as you were tasked to make a show of a traitor. He shoves the blade your way, hilt tilted your way as he connects his gaze with you.
The leader of your crew informs him you are new. He does not even pretend to hear him.
You took the blade, the forged metal heavier than you expected it to be but not impossibly so. It seemed as though it was his favorite, a little longer than a dagger but still small enough to hide under your clothes. Weighing it on your palm, you test the balance of it before gripping it tightly and Jeong-Hyun is entranced by the casual dominance you have over it.
The man before you, on his knees with his cut lip hanging heavily and his eyes so bruised you wonder how he can still see you enough to squeak in fear; he shivers and bows desperately.
"How do you want him, boss?" You glance at him, the grip on the blade strong and confident. He narrows his eyes then closes his eyes, jerking his chin forward.
' However you see fit. '
Jeong-Hyun falls in love with your violence.
Asking for you, always. Giving you food to bring back, giving you new knives and even transferring you to his personal squad of men and women. He'd even invited you into his home. Which, apparently, was not unusual but no one had ever had the pleasure of being able to see the pack of dogs he had.
He starts hanging around you more. His favoritism is hard to mask and it causes you more issues than you'd like to admit.
"You're his little bitch now, huh?" or "His cock tastes good, (Y/N)?"
But who can say no when their boss tells them they want you to follow him around, be his shadow, do nothing more than observe boring meetings and itching for the usual vulgarity of mobsters while you're stood by the wall or behind him?
The madam is not impressed by you. Whenever she speaks to her brother, she will cast a glance filled with nothing more than mild bemusement and disgust.
"Hey, boss," he tilts his head in your direction. You're sat in a barbeque restaurant, and he's watching you intently as you flip the meat, licking his exposed teeth with an almost canine-like attribute.
"...Can I ask you a question?" Jeong-Hyun nods, tearing his eyes away to now look at you. They're almost golden, you think to yourself, the colour of his eyes is so bright.
"Why do you favour me?"
Jeong-Hyung, you come to find out, does not speak. The scar you see peeking from his high collars was apparently a wound that had gone so deep, it took the ability for him to speak comfortably. So Jeong-Hyun signs; "What does that mean?"
"Favour?" You ask and he nods.
"Well, it means, why do you...like me...?"
Jeong-Hyung blinks for a few seconds then tells you to flip the meat. The conversation seemingly ends. That is until you find yourself in his home and he has invited you to his basement.
The dogs bark from behind the doggy gate, a hallway away feeling like a stretch of land as their noises echo. In the basement, you find yourself surrounded by crusted blood and metal. He lifts a dagger and shows it to you. It takes a moment for you to recognize it, it's been weeks since you've held it, but then your brows furrow.
"You kill good. Like me, I like that. I like you," he signs while you hold the dagger. "You like me?" He nods, pulling his black mask away from his face, and grins. It's surreal to see, not exactly grotesque but an unusual sight.
"I like you," he signs.
When his enthusiasm is met with confusion, Jeong-Hyun's face contorts into worry.
He takes the dagger from your hand, places it down, then holds your hands in his. He's tall, towering easily over you as he brings your knuckles to his lips.
He has essentially muted himself. Focusing his strength on keeping your hands hostage as he walks forward until your back meets the smoothed limewash walls of his basement.
"Boss? I'm flattered, but this is a lot to take in....!"
His cloudy eye is in a perpetual squint, healed scars tugging on the skin so it looks almost uncomfortable stretched. They have so much sadness that you feel guilt sprout in you.
'Love me,' they say, 'Love me, love me, lovemelovemelovemelovemelovemeloveme'
Your relationship is dubious. The jeers from your comrades make you feel more flustered than before and Jeong-Hyun is not shy about his affections.
He holds your hands in meetings and traces the shapes of your fingers and joints.
When a snake requires a beheading, Jeong-Hyun takes off your jacket for you and hands you a weapon of his choice. The men who snicker at the sight? Jeong-Hyun is not fond of guns but he so does love it when his sister presses her Beretta to the back of their necks and makes them gasp and sputter.
Madam Seo-Yun may not like you but you matter too much to her little brother for her to allow their insubordinate to make fun of you.
Jeong-Hyun is like a touch-starved puppy. Despite his towering size, he crumbles under your touch, your gaze.
"My brother, he is naive to relationships," Seo-Yun informs you during a lunch meeting. "I noticed, Madam," you shrink under her gaze. How is it she has the same shade of eyes and hers are so, so, so cold?
"But he likes you, favours you I think is the word he used. He has never liked someone before. Not as strongly as this. I suppose I should advise you to take some caution."
"My brother's love comes with a storm of violence. It runs in the family, I'm afraid. Please, don't be frightened by his displays."
You didn't quite understand what she meant.
He'd never been violent to you. You had witnessed him kill before, torture, maim — it was not an unusual sight in your line of work.
You didn't understand until you saw it.
Another funeral, more drinks, more meat. Jeong-Hyun has you beside him, eagerly awaiting your metal chopsticks to place more grilled beef onto his plate.
No one laughs at the sight anymore, they treat you as an extension of Jeong-Hyun which, considering how he monopolies your time, you might as well be. It's rare to see you without him.
But as you got up to wash your hands — someone had spilled their drinks and your hand became sticky — an inebriated man had pressed himself against you.
"You must be a good lay if *hic* Jeong-Hyun-ssi keeps you around, riiight? C'mon, just a quickie, c'mon," "Fuck! Get away from me!"
Jeong-Hyun's hand grabs the back of the man's head, rears it backward, and slams it right into the sink. It shatters, the man yells, people around you scream; but Jeong-Hyun tightens his grip, rears his hand back, and slams him down again.
By the end of that public fiasco, the man's head was obliterated so badly, his face was no longer there. Just shredded skin, muscle, and shattered bone and brain matter.
Madam Seo-Yun's gaze on you is heavy in the car. Jeong-Hyun lumbers in, his hand covered with tissues and you immediately pull the bloody fist to your lap. Approval shines in her eyes as you apply pressure and ask if it hurts.
Well, you couldn't say she didn't warn you now, could you?
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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 month ago
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Well if given how the anime will adapt the Manga, it makes me wonder about the savanaclaw adaptation given how many delays due to the artist's personal life that octavinelle Manga came around and is now have overblot Chapter before Savanaclaw does. I wonder if the author will have time to finish it and given how heartslabyul will release in October 2025, it might take awhile to animate savanaclaw.
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[Referencing this news!]
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Decided to put these together because the topics were similar enough and I have similar advice for both asks. To briefly clarify the second ask, I believe the Anon made a typo and meant to say "Yana Toboso was NOT involved in the anime's production". This is because Yana made a tweet recently stating that she and her team were surprised and honored that they were making an anime adaptation based on the manga.
Now, about the first ask: we are not aware of what the manga and anime creation process looks like for Twst. Yes, the Savanaclaw manga has had a number of delays, but we cannot be sure if this impacts the anime at all. For example, we don't know how much of the Episode of Savanaclaw anime is even done yet. We don't know if the anime team is going to be in talks with the mangaka to coordinate things. We don't know when the Episode of Savanaclaw will air (and for all we know, it could give the mangaka ample time to finish up). There are many things we do not know, so it would be VERY hasty to conclude anything now.
Regarding the second ask: Yes, it does seem like Yana had no involvement in the anime. This, however, should NOT be taken as an immediate sign that the anime will be poor quality or that the anime will deviate from the main story in large (and bad) ways. Nothing of the news we've heard so far would indicate any sweeping changes. This is equating a past occurrence with something that has yet to even happen without even knowing if the production circumstances are even the same between them. The only thing we know that is linking the animes of early Black Butler and Twst is Yana's lack of involvement. This doesn't account for ANY other factors in production, and it's also assuming that Yana's mere presence makes a product good--and, conversely, her absence automatically makes a product bad. I don't think this is the way to go, as it's jumping to conclusions based on minimal evidence and it's putting way too much weight on Yana's shoulders to carry the quality of the Twst anime.
And that brings me to the thread linking together not just these two asks, but a lot of the anime-related posts and asks that I've been seeing as of late: fearmongering and doomposting. Lots of it.
As I’ve said multiple times now, it's fine to be hesitant about the anime. I'm hesitant of it myself! However, let’s not draw preemptive conclusions or fret over what are ultimately hypotheticals. It’s so far off, and we have zero of the actual final product to look at and judge the quality of. I'm seeing so many people make mountains out of molehills, working themselves up over nothing, assuming the worst-case scenarios... 💦 and again, all of this based on little to no information. I can't help but that time and energy could be better spent on other fandom efforts or things we actively enjoy. It's valid to be anxious about the anime and how it presents something we care so much about, but putting those feelings in a public space paints the fandom in a bad light. It gives the impression that we'll jump the gun and claim something is bad before letting the product speak for itself. If you're a current Twst fan that is excited for the anime, it may not feel so good seeing others theorizing about how bad it will be. If you're a potential new Twst fan seeing this stuff, you'd feel very unwelcome or unwanted. I worry this will fester and create divides in the community... unintentionally creating an environment that isn't fun to be in, and that's the antithesis of what I think fandom should be. I guess I'll end on this note: There is a difference between being healthily skeptical and assuming the worst of a production. Please take a moment to reexamine your concerns about the anime and ask yourself "Is this a reasonable fear?", "What am I basing this off of?", and, "How, if at all, will this affect my own enjoyment of Twst?" If it gets to be too much for you, then please, please step away from social media (where a lot of these fears are being touted) and take a break. Do something you like, take a walk, whatever. I just beg of you, don't allow yourself to be consumed by feelings that will bleed the fun of fandom out of you 💦
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hrtbeomi · 5 months ago
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'CAUSE YOU WERE NEVER MINE, NEVER MINE ★ gojo satoru
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p. gojo satoru x fem!reader
w. angst (kinda), cheating, taylor swift references, english is not my first language so there's gonna be some redacting issues (sorry)
a/n. it's august season everyone .ᐟ sadly the air is not salty and my door isn't rusty (where i live is winter 😭) anyway, my poor boy satoru is augustine, reader is definitely james but her partner isn't betty (is satoru too, he just doesn't know it) pls let me know if you like it ><
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You never meant for it to go this far.
When you first met Gojo Satoru, it wasn’t supposed to be anything serious. It was just an encounter at some party of one of your friends threw that soon turned into a fleeting moment that was meant to be nothing more than a good gossip story. You’d were with someone else at the time, someone predictable, maybe a little bit boring but when that night Satoru’s bright ocean eyes locked onto yours from across the room, everything seemed to change.
Gojo Satoru was a charismatic and effortlessly confident man, he had a magnetic force that you couldn’t resist and before you knew it, you were already sneaking away from the party with him, laughing like seventeen-year-olds as you ran down the streets like you were the only two people in the world. The adrenaline was intoxicating, and when you finally stopped to catch your breath, you realized you’d crossed a line that you weren't supposed to cross.
But you couldn't help it, you were drawn to Satoru like a moth to a flame, knowing full well that you were bound to get burned in the end. You didn’t care though, being with the white haired man was a high you couldn’t get anywhere else. He made you feel alive in ways you hadn’t felt like in years.
You told yourself it was just a fling, something you’d end when the excitement wore off. But the thing is, it never did. The more time you spent with Satoru, the deeper you got pulled into his world. He was unpredictable, spontaneous,always ready to do something new. When you were with him, everything felt like an adventure, like you could be free without a care in the world.
But here's the thing, cheating? so not worth it, with every stolen kiss and every clandestine meeting, the guilt began to build itself. You knew this was wrong, hiding your relationship with Satoru from everyone, including the person you were supposed to be with. It was only a matter of time before it all came crashing down.
And it did.
It was night, you and Satoru were driving through the city in his black car, the wind whipping through your hair as the music blasted from the speakers. You were both laughing, high on adrenaline and the thrill of being together. It was one of those nights where everything felt perfect, like you were just spending quality time with your lover.
But then, as you reached a red light, reality came crashing in. Your phone buzzed with a text from the person you were supposed to be faithful to, asking where you were at such hour and if you were okay. The guilt hit you like a ton of bricks getting thrown at you, and suddenly, the laughter died in your throat. You felt trapped, caught between two worlds that were never supposed to collide.
Satoru noticed your sudden change immediately. He turned down the music and glanced over at you concerned, his smile fading as he saw the look on your face. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice soft and sweet but edged with pure worry.
You shook your head, trying to shake off the feeling. “Nothing,” you lied, but you could see in his eyes that he didn’t believe you one bit, you never were good at lying and the man beside you always noticed what you did or didn't do, he knew you better than you knew yourself.
The light turned green, and Satoru hesitated for a moment before keep driving. The car sped forward, but that carefree and loving mood was long gone. The tension in the air was palpable, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him or say anything.
Finally it was Satoru who broke the silence and spoke, his voice a bit quieter this time, “You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”
The question hung in the air, heavy and uncomfortable, you didn’t want to answer but you knew you had to. “. . .Yeah,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
He didn’t say anything at first. He just kept driving, focused on the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than before. You could feel the weight of the silence between you, and it was suffocating.
“I knew this would happen eventually,” Satoru said finally, his tone resigned, “You were never mine to begin with. . ."
His words cut deep, and you felt a pang of guilt twist in your chest, “That’s not true,” you protested, but even as you said it, you knew there was some truth to what he was saying. You’d always known that your relationship with Satoru was built on shaky ground, destined to crumble sooner or later.
But the thought of losing him hurt more than you wanted to admit, it would be the kind of heartbreak time could never mend.
Satoru let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head, "You don’t have to lie to make me feel better, i'm not stupid, you know?”
You stayed silent, what could you say? everything was a mess, and you didn’t know how to fix it.
The white haired man pulled the car into an empty parking lot. The sudden silence was deafening, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. He turned to face you, his expression serious, but there was a softness in his eyes that made your heart ache.
“I’m not mad,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle, “I knew what i was getting into when this thing started between us but i think it’s time we both admit that this can’t go on forever.”
You swallowed hard, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, “I don’t want to lose you, Satoru," you confessed, your voice trembling as he reached out and took your hand, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles.
“I don’t want to lose you either,” he said softly. “But we both know this was never going to last. You're not mine, sweetheart, even if i'm yours.”
His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you felt a tear slip down your cheek. You knew he was right, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept.
Satoru leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment that felt like forever before he pulled back. “It’s okay,” he whispered, “We had our fun, didn’t we? Ww made some memories, had some crazy nights… but now it’s time to let go. . .”
You nodded, even though it felt like your heart was shattering. “No, we'll fix this, okay?” you choked out, trying to wipe away your tears but failing completely, “So don't say that, please”
He squeezed your hand one last time before letting go. “You’ll be okay, love,” he assured you, his voice full of warmth, “And so will i.”
With that, Satoru started the car again and drove you back to your house. The drive was quiet, both of you lost in your own thoughts and when he finally pulled up in front of your place, you turned to him one last time, trying to memorize every detail of his face.
“I love you, Satoru,” you said, your voice barely audible.
He gave you a sad smile, his eyes reflecting the same mixture of pain and acceptance you felt. “I love you too, sweetheart,” he whispered back.
As you stepped out of the car, you felt like you were leaving a part of yourself behind and as you watched Satoru drive away, the reality of what you lost hit you like a freight train but you also knew that you couldn’t have kept living the lie. He had been your escape, your thrill, but now it was time to face the consequences.
If you wanted to be with him there was something you needed to do first, something that should've been done a long time ago but for now, all you could do was stand there with tears streaming down your face, watching as the car of the one you loved disappeared into the night.
But you were gonna do things the right way this time, you couldn't afford to lose the love of your life to a relationship that was slowly dying since the begging of the affair. This time around it wasn't gonna be some messy love affair, it was gonna be just love, true and unconditional love.
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hikarry · 1 year ago
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If you stop to think about it, Aziraphale would be a much better demon than Crowley ever could. Especially book Aziraphale.
I'm not even going to mention the Deadly Sins he consistently partakes in (yes I am: Gluttony, lowkey Greed with his books and whatnot, and a very obvious Lust - I'm looking at you Bastille Aziraphale and Season 2 Aziraphale!), that's easy hanging fruit, we all know he is a bloody hedonist.
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Now, Aziraphale not only made that guard in the airbase disappear to Satan knows where but he was also ready with a fucking gun to gun down an 11-year-old child. Was it to save the world? Details! Book Aziraphale had no problem with a little murder on the side!
I've already discussed here how he is a liar. For 6000 years he lied to Heaven (once to the Almighty's face, many many times to Gabriel's face) consistently. Be it the flaming sword, the mysterious appearance of Job's new children, the "Evil Smell" in the bookshop, the location of the Anti-Christ, making humans fall in love, or Gabriel's location. And, most importantly: Crowley.
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He hid his relationship with the Serpent of Eden, the enemy, a demon, for all his staying on Earth until the Apocalypse when their cover was blown. And his relationship with Crowley wasn't just "a relationship". And no, I'm not referring to the fact he fell in love with a demon - that's irrelevant for this matter -, I'm talking about the Arrangement. Fraternizing with a demon is a thing, but having an Arrangement with one where you share the workload and perform temptations in his place? As an angel? Now that's a whole other story. And he kept all of that hidden for millennia. Hell! Do Hell and Heaven even know about the Arrangement at all? They know about Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship but not once is mentioned that they know Aziraphale was performing temptations and Crowley was performing blessing for each other! He IS still lying to Heaven about the Arrangement!
The way he acts with the clients is also not very angel-like now, is it? What about the shady people that go to his bookshop and mysteriously disappear never to be seen again?
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Yes, he plays by the rules and his heart is good, and loves the Almighty above all (eh, kinda. Anyway), but he is also wicked! Deep down, Aziraphale is a terrible angel!
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If he did Fall, he would be completely heartbroken and confused and scared about it for a few centuries, who knows, but he would soon take shape and adapt because, truthfully, he'd keep quite a few of his traits. He could keep his Deadly Sins, his murder, his lies, his stubbornness, his cunningness. He would just receive a new rule book to play from.
Would he be a perfect demon? No, I'm not saying that. Above all, he has a good heart and tries to do good as much as he can - much like Crowley himself, but he has certain demonic qualities that Crowley is severely lacking.
In summary: Aziraphale would be a better demon than Crowley. Not the best demon, because he isn't evil and I doubt he would ever be, but better than Crowley nonetheless.
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