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#there was literally no danger of him staying locked up
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Long overdue Pipeyna posting:
It’s the way they balance each other out and mirror each other.
I think a lot about what Piper said in regard to love and hate being almost identical emotions, neither of which can be reasoned with, and that being why Ares and Aphrodite like each other.
It’s about how they start out resenting each other—Reyna sees Piper as the person who took away her best friend. Piper sees Reyna as a threat to her relationship with Jason. Except that’s not the whole story, is it? Because Piper thinks about Reyna much more than she should. Much more than Jason does, honestly. And the second Reyna lets herself trust Piper, she trusts her fully. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And it startles her, because usually Reyna takes a long time to let people in. But the others join the fight and though Reyna’s eyes should be drawn to Jason, she finds them on Piper instead.
Reyna and Piper understand each other in a way only the child of a war goddess and the child of the goddess of love can. They’re two sides of the same coin.
Piper sometimes struggles with thinking she’s not especially useful in comparison to her friends who seem much more powerful, whose skills seem much more helpful in combat. Hell, she’s outright stated to be surprised Reyna and Annabeth find her diplomatic skills handy at the end of BoO.
A lot of Piper’s character centers around her feeling invisible—the first time we see this is with her dad, whose attention she keeps trying to gain with her stunts, except it doesn’t work. She stays invisible to him. And that can never change. Because once he sees her for who she really is, it breaks him, and she has to make the heartbreaking choice to ask him to look away again for his own good. Piper has a power that literally centers around her ability to make people look at her and listen to her, and yet she cannot keep the attention of her dad, and she doesn’t think it’s really enough to have earned a place among her friends.
But Reyna sees her, even without her charmspeak. Reyna looks at Piper and in her role as the child of a war goddess, what can she see except all the ways in which Piper is a warrior? All the ways in which Piper is capable and brave?
Reyna on the other hand struggles with her emotions and not being able to let other people in. She keeps her cards close to her chest because that’s the only way she knows to keep herself safe. Even when she loves, she loves in a way that’s subdued, because she was taught from a young age that love isn’t a thing that’s safe. Love locks you up at night because you’re a threat. Love is angry and dangerous and could get you killed if you slip up—if you say the wrong thing or move the wrong way or if it’s simply having a bad day. Love is a thing that at any given moment could explode in your face.
She doesn’t even share how her powers work because she’s afraid it might go wrong somehow if she does—that the others will feel like she’s somehow manipulating them instead of supporting them.
But Piper looks at Reyna and she sees right through her, sees all the ways she’s hurting and how exhausted she is, because with her powers, what can she see except Reyna’s emotions, no matter how tightly Reyna tries to keep them locked up?
Piper knew what Reyna’s power was without being told. She just sensed it and immediately understood how it worked and how it must drain Reyna. And Reyna feels briefly terrified when Piper brings it up because she always assumed people knowing would change their opinion on her. But Piper is only mentioning it because she’s worried about how those powers must affect Reyna. About whether she’s getting enough rest and has a shoulder to lean on about it all. And that’s never been anyone’s main priority before—especially not Reyna’s (something something Reyna being raised to protect New Rome. Her powers actively benefiting others while draining her. The way she’s never quite able to live for herself).
They instinctively see and feel drawn to the part of each other that other people struggle to see at all and it makes me a bit crazy actually.
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tbaluver · 1 month
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The Love And DeepSpace Men- Boyfriend Headcanons
parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: fluff fluff a/n: i might make a part two of this i just thought this was a cute idea in my drafts (´。• ᵕ •。`) any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
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Xavier:
He is your weighted blanket whenever you need him. Literally and figuratively. When you sleep, he provides so much warmth. His head could be on your chest as he dozes off when you play with the locks of his hair. His arms would be around your body, occasionally pressing light kisses on your arms.
Your big baby. The warmth and softness of you and hearing the sound of your heartbeat soothes him. Therefore, he loves being the little spoon when cuddling despite the height difference between you two. He leans into your touch a lot so just hold him tight and run your fingers through his hair as he nuzzles his face into your chest.
He has the most confusing food combos he's cooked but you try them anyway. Sometimes it's not shocking to you that it's not your cup of tea so you decide it's best to just get take out instead or that you cook anyway. You both can cook your own plates at the same time in the kitchen or you'll help him cook what he wants even if the food combo is questionable so he doesn't burn the house down.
Will celebrate all of your achievements no matter how small. You were nervous about an exam? "Woot" Will be happy and proud that you got it over with and you'll both find something small or big to do to celebrate it
Cute date ideas would be stargazing or picnics in the park. Packing simple easy foods and treats while you both enjoy the scenery and afternoon. Or having a blanket out at the park while you watch the stars at night but he's looking at you.
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Zayne:
The type to kiss you in bed every single night and when you both wake up. He'll kiss you on the lips, or the top of your head while he cups your cheek.
He'll always listen to your problems. He's an amazing listener and he gives logical advice as well as encouragement and praises depending on what the situation is.
He's a busy man but he tries to plan dates with you at least two or three times a week. If he has a busy schedule he'll make it up to you. Some dates include checking out new cafes to try new sweets or bakeries.
He's also a gentleman! He'll hold any door open whether it's a restaurant, yours or his home, or the car door, etc. He always tries to pick you up and drop you off. He'll also wait until your inside your home safely before leaving. He'll always stay on the dangerous side of the road or sidewalk whenever you both are walking together. With him you're never walking on the wrong side of the road whenever he's with you! If you were both in a busy area, he'll let you link your arms together, or intertwine your hands together, or he'll have his hand on your back so he knows your with him.
He'll make the effort to call you whenever he can. During his breaks from work, he'll call to see how you're doing. Or he'll call you at night to wish you a goodnight before he does an operation because he might not make it back home in time.
When he comes home late at night, he's cautious on handling your sleeping form because he does not want to wake up your peaceful sleep. He'll tuck your head in the crook of his neck, his chin resting on the top of your head before pulling up the covers over your body.
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Rafayel:
You are his muse. He is so in love with you that you fill up his mind so most of his works would be inspired by you. He would have many sketchbooks filled with sketches of mostly just you and sometimes of you and him. The sketchbook is filled with your side profile, your eyes, your smile, your hands, any parts of you that he has adored for years. One time he planned on drawing the scenery of the beach but he decided to sketch you instead. Or there would be times where you're at a restaurant and he'll doodle you on a napkin. Or when you're both at the beach, he'll grab a stick and draw you on the beach.
Being in a relationship with him basically means you will always have a companion. He'll trail on you wherever you go like you literally cannot get rid of him. When you want to shower by yourself, he'll stay on the other side of the shower talking about anything. He just likes having you by his side. You can sit near him while he paints a new canvas and sometimes he'll ask you your opinions. He'll also want you to travel with him if he had to fly out for exhibitions.
Although he can be very playful and a tease, he'll do anything for you. You just have to ask him. He's wrapped around your finger.
He'll buy matching jewelry for the both of you and he'll buy any dresses or outfits that he thinks you would love or that would look gorgeous on you.
He also loves loves it when you give him words of affirmation. He loves hearing when you compliment him or tell him that you love him and he'll also love doing that to you as well.
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Sylus:
He would reprogram Mephisto to like you and not squawk/ claw you. If he was far away from a business situation he would have Mephisto or Luke and Kieran keep you company. The twins will probably tell you any stories you want about Sylus. He'll also make calls or text you to update you on anything while he's far away.
On nights when he's not home, he'll intentionally leave some of his shirts out because he knows you sleep in his shirts as you drift off into sleep. He makes sure that they smell like 'him'.
Loves holding hands anytime he can with you. Or just loves having his hands on you. Always has his hand on your back or intertwined with yours or wrapped around your waist.
Makes time for you anytime he can. He'll literally just give you his card and follow you around while you shop. He's also the type of partner to buy you everything that you touch. If there's a time where you're upset about something that's sold out, he'll be searching for it and buying it overnight with the fastest delivery!
He'll also find your height difference funny. Sometimes he'll place his hand out on your head and tease you. Or sometimes he'll hold things above his head and find your expression funny because it's still impossible for you to reach.
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empresskylo · 1 year
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➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓
ZOMBIE!SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X AFAB!READER
SUMMARY | Simon is dead. And you were forced to leave him behind as the rise of the dead took over. When you volunteer to sneak back into base to grab med supplies, you don't expect to run into Simon—alive, but certainly not himself...
WARNINGS | dead dove do not eat! this is literally smut about zombie!ghost... so... beware i suppose. gore. dub-con?? afab!reader. wc 3k
⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ lock me up! send me to jail!!! i can't believe I wrote this yes i can. This is how down bad i am for Ghost, I literally wrote smut about fucking him as a zombie... someone send the authorities, i need my internet taken away. (happy oct 1st btw)
𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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It had been less than two days since you lost Simon.
The image of him dying in the infirmary wing, bleeding out on the bed, was plastered behind your eyes. You saw it every waking moment and even dreamt of it during the night. You could still feel Soap’s hands squeezing your arms far too aggressively as he dragged you out of the infirmary while you cried out for Simon. You tried to claw your way to him but Soap was stronger than you by a long shot. “We have to get out of here!” he shouted at you over the cacophony of voices, people running around frantically. You let him drag you away to safety, your body limp in his hold, thinking of Simon’s dying breath.
The infirmary had promptly been boarded up, the doors all sealed tight. The breakout had begun a few weeks ago and it only just infiltrated the base. When Ghost had come back, bleeding out after a mission gone wrong, you furiously checked him for bite marks. The relief you felt when you didn’t find any was short-lived. Simon had lost a lot of blood. Too much blood. You could still see it covering your hands the days following like a wraith. You felt like his blood was still wedged under your fingernails even after scrubbing your hands violently in a bucket of water. 
With the infirmary infected and the outside world gone, you had little options but to hunker down in the barracks. There were small hunting groups that would leave base and dare to edge into the city, trying to help people, and gathering resources. Ghost had been in one of those first groups to leave the safe confines of base. You wished you had begged him to stay. Pleaded with him not to go. 
The lights above you flickered, the generator not the most reliable of equipment. You looked across the table to your teammates, trying to keep yourself pulled together. It was only at night that you let yourself feel the pain, crying yourself to sleep. 
“We’re never gonna survive here if we don’t get that medical supplies,” Soap explained. 
“It’s too dangerous, Soap. We have no idea how bad it got in there. We have no way of knowing if all the bodies left behind turned,” Price retorted, pulling off his beanie and running his hand through his hair in nerves. 
“So, what then? We’re gonna send more men off to die, tryin’ to get shit from the city?”
Price closed his eyes momentarily. The bags forming under them showed just how little sleep he was getting. “We can’t risk more men. We’d be sendin’ them to their death, Soap. We don’t have the ammo to spare.”
“We don’t know that. We’re still not even sure if it's a guarantee the dead will change, or if they have to be bit.”
“It’s too–”
You cut the men off. “I can go.” Both their heads snapped in your direction. “I’m just a technician. With everything gone to shit, I haven’t been as much help as you guys have been. I can’t fight. I can’t–”
“No. We’re not riskin’ you,” Soap said sternly. 
“Soap,” you breathed. “I’m the only one here that isn’t crucial to the team. And don’t argue with me. It’s just a fact. Let me go. I can sneak in and grab what we need. I’m far quieter than any of you boisterous men anyways.”
Soap breathed your name. He was worried about you. He could see the pain in your eyes after losing Simon. He was worried this was a suicide mission. And that you wanted that. 
“Let me be of use,” you begged. Soap wanted to argue. So did Price. But you were right. You would be the fastest. And as much as they valued you, the remaining men couldn’t survive here without Soap or Price. 
“Lass, are you sure?” Soap said finally. He wanted you to feel useful, but he didn’t want you running off and risking your life because of the pain you felt from losing Simon. 
“Let me do it, Soap. Please. I need this.”
He couldn’t argue with you. He didn’t have it in him to hurt you more than you were already hurting. 
“Fine. But I’m not happy about this.”
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You stood in your gear, an empty backpack plastered to your back waiting to be filled with medical supplies. Price had gone over the layout of the wing with you, showing you exactly where you needed to go to get the right supplies on a map of the building. 
You stood before the infirmary doors, the ones that would lead to a long, winding hall that would bring you to the center of the infirmary. Off of that were several rooms and more halls, and a surgical floor. It was a large span of space to cover, but you believed you could do this. 
“Be quick about it, lass. We’ll be right here when you get back,” Soap said to you, his hand resting on your shoulder. 
You took in a breath and walked up to the doors that had been unlocked, a large piece of plywood that had previously been nailed against it, removed so you could go in. Before you reached out to the door handle, you turned around and rushed into Soap’s arms. He held you tightly, your head tucked right under his chin. “Don’t you fuckin’ die on me,” he mumbled into your hair. 
You pulled back and gave him a sad smile. Then you nodded at Price and faced the daunting doors again. Once you stepped through the threshold and the doors shut behind you, you could hear the plywood being put back up, a hammer nailing it in place. When you got back, you were to knock and Soap would be there waiting to let you back in. 
The hall was flickering with a few overhead lights, the generator still powering a few of the rooms in this wing. 
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Ghost had a glazed-over expression when he rolled off his medical bed. The room around him was silent apart from the ticking of a clock in the corner. There was blood pooled all around him and dripping onto the tiled floor as he stood. He had some semblance of who he was, of what happened, but most of his thoughts were hazed over like he was stuck in a daydream. 
He had walked the length of the room, a sudden craving for food hitting the pit of his stomach. Any sound made him snap in that direction, rushing towards it as if on cue. He heard banging coming from one of the med rooms, the door locked and nailed over with whatever scrap of wood they could find. More people like him were trapped behind those doors, their groaning echoing down the hall. 
Ghost limped as he walked, remembering how he had been shot in his leg. He looked down at his crimson-stained pants, almost like he should be feeling pain, but he felt nothing. 
Days had passed and he roamed the halls aimlessly, not even getting bored. His mind had drifted off, somewhere that wasn’t in his body, allowing him to walk around like a zombie, completely void of any logical thought. 
He grumbled as he made his rounds, stuck in a time loop, walking down the flickering hall again and again, passing by bodies that had been left behind. 
He hesitated when he heard something. He turned to look in the direction of the noise, intrigued. It sounded like someone had just walked blindly into a metal medical tray, knocking instruments onto the floor. His movements were fast and nimble as he approached the sound. 
He froze in place when he saw you–though he didn’t know who you were at that moment. You cursed yourself for being loud but didn’t hear anything in retaliation so you figured you were safe. Your hand rested on the knife strapped to your hip anyway.
You were edging towards the main infirmary double doors, your hand touching the metal of the handle. You should go in there and get supplies, but that’s where you had last seen Simon. You didn’t have it in you to see what had become of him, his body rotting alone. 
Instead, you walked down the hall and into a storage closet, oblivious to the shell of Ghost who trailed behind you. 
You left the door to the storage room open to let in a few strips of light so you could see better. You hunched over and began to dig through the supplies that had been thrown all over the floor in panic. 
Ghost rolled his neck as he saw you in the room, your back to him. He had a sudden urge to sink his teeth deep into your skin, to tear you to shreds. In fact, he wanted nothing more; the instinct was overpowering. 
But when he got close, he could hear your voice as you mumbled to yourself, going over the list of the items you needed. You held up a pack of linens, trying to see if they were clean. “These will have to do,” you said softly, shoving them into your backpack. 
A wave of familiarity surfaced inside Ghost, a strange feeling of being alive pumping through his veins. When he got to the doorframe, he could smell you. His senses heightened, the waft of your natural scent sent Ghost into a daze. He remembered—though he wasn’t sure what he was remembering. All he knew was that he recognized that smell. 
His body had felt like it was in hibernation, his motors set on autopilot as he mindlessly walked down the halls. But suddenly, Ghost’s true mind was brought to the forefront. And his body craved you, though not in the way he had just moments earlier. He didn’t want to sink his teeth into your neck, he wanted to feel your warmth against him. 
Ghost moved with such dexterity and silence, it was clear he was no longer human. When you stood, his arms immediately wrapped around you, eliciting a scream from your throat. 
Ghost still wasn’t fully comprehending what was happening; all he knew was that his body wanted you. His hand slid up around your neck, leaving a trail of blood on your clothes. He tried to speak, but he couldn't fathom what he wanted to say. All that came out was a strangled groan. 
You sputtered, trying to catch your breath as your heart raced in your chest. Ghost felt for your pulse beneath his fingertips, relishing in the way your blood pumped through your body. 
You turned your head slightly, spying the man who had you trapped against the many shelves in the closet.
It was Simon.
Terror flooded your system. He didn’t look like himself. His eyes were glossed over, his pupils and iris almost unidentifiable, the entirety of his eyes were white, appearing like he was blind. The blood that had soaked his face had congealed, the rusted color running down his clothes where he was shot in the chest and leg. He looked just how you left him, and it sent a sense of terror through you. 
“S-Simon?” You whispered, unsure if you were caught in a nightmare. 
A groan escaped his cracked lips. You gulped. He had become one of them . 
You were certain he was about to tear you apart, just as you had seen other fallen men do to your teammates. You closed your eyes, tears rushing down your cheeks as you prepared for the worst. His hands felt cold around your neck, like ice. You shivered against him. You accepted your fate—a small part of you actually wanted it. You wanted him to end you. To take you down with him. You didn't want to be alone anymore.
He nuzzled his nose against your neck and you squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for him to bite you. But it never came. 
Instead, he just moved his nose against you, smelling your hair and skin. His hands were still locked tightly against you, but they began to travel across your body. You opened your eyes in shock. Ghost’s hands trailed your chest, groping you with one hand, the other sprawling over the front of your thigh and stomach. You gasped in surprise. 
You felt him harden against you, something you had experienced many times before now, and the familiarity of it made your heart pound with mixed emotions. Your mind was too caught up trying to decipher what was happening to truly take the moment in. 
Ghost’s cold hands slid under your black shirt, snaking their way up to your breasts, cupping each one in his hands. Your nipples immediately hardened from the iciness of his touch. He ground himself against your backside, making you close your eyes in a moment of reprieve. You got lost in the past, imagining this was how it used to be. How he had touched you so many times before. 
You breathed his name and he seemed to like that, for he rolled his hips against you harder, his chest rumbling in satisfaction. 
The cold of his hands left you, making you oddly yearn to have them back on your skin. His fingers traced the hem of your pants before aggressively pulling them down. He got them past the curve of your ass and turned your bodies so your hips hit the edge of a shelving unit that acted as a table. You knocked all the supplies off as Ghost pushed you down against it, using your hands to catch yourself. 
Ghost shuffled with his own pants, wasting no time at all to slip himself inside you. You called out in a brief shock of pain. He held himself deep within you, his hands squeezing as he held you, his body bent over slightly, his chest flat against your back. Your own hands reached out to grab the edge of the table to help steady yourself. The searing heat of you against his frozen skin spread through him like wildfire.
Your cries ignited a flame in Ghost’s chest—the feel of your body, the sound of your gasps, the smell of your hair—felt natural, like this was exactly what he was supposed to be doing. That he was made to take you like this. That your body against him was something so ingrained in his system, that he had no choice to to let his limbs move on muscle memory. 
He began to thrust inside you, your hips hitting the table with each snap of his hips. His hand snaked around your neck, the smear of blood now coating your skin. One of your hands came up to wrap around his wrist, resting it there in support. 
You groaned as he rocked into you harder. The pain from his sudden intrusion had subsided, and now you were filled with a haze of rapture. A tear slid down your cheek. You were unable to process what was happening, but what you did know was that you had missed Simon more than anything and that this wasn’t real. This wouldn’t last longer than this moment in time. 
Ghost’s chest rumbled in pleasure as he thrusted into you. Your walls squeezed around him and he let out a loud groan. His arm not clutching your neck wrapped around your midsection, pulling you away from the table so you were flesh against him. He held you tight, almost like he couldn’t get you close enough. That if he had his way, he’d let you make a home beneath his skin. 
His hips snapped vehemently against you, his pace quickening. You moaned, your sounds coming out strangled as his cold hand held your neck. Your walls tightened around him, your climax rapidly approaching. You couldn’t quite believe that you were not only fucking your dead boyfriend, but you were going to come in record time. 
You were absolutely intoxicating to him as your warmth clenched down on him, your heat something recognizable to him, and yet, the intimacy was foreign at the same time. Now that he was devoid of his usual body temperature, the warm feeling of you around him was almost painful. 
When you mewled and cried under him, your walls spasaming, he drew himself to the edge right behind you. Ghost came inside you with a great urge, growling in your ear as he tried to support the two of you. You felt him fill you, the white fluid seeping out around where his cock continued to pump in and out of you. His movements became sloppy, your legs shaking, your hand clutching onto his wrist for dear life. 
You couldn’t hold back the cascade of tears, finally letting them flow as Ghost slowed his pace before stopping altogether. He edged out of you, his arms hesitantly letting you go, and you immediately turned around to face him, burying your face in his chest. You sobbed as he stood there. His arms didn’t reach out and hold you like he once would. He didn’t try to comfort you like he always did so well. 
But still, he just let you huddle against him, taking what you needed from him. He didn’t attack you. He didn’t try to kill you. He wasn’t himself, but he wasn’t fully gone either. You turned to look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. He looked down and you stifled a cry. His white eyes were going to be permanently burned into your mind, haunting you for eternity. His face was sullen and blanched, blood smearing all across him; fresh blood dripping slightly from his mouth.
You tentatively reached a hand up and rested it on his frozen cheek. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled. Ghost made no indication he could even hear you. 
You took in a deep breath, willing yourself to do this, and stepped back. You adjusted yourself before slowly reaching down for your bag. Ghost stood and watched you, the only thing moving was the tilt of his head as he traced your movements. 
You shuffled to the door, anticipating him to reach out and end this daydream, ripping you apart. But he just watched you go, his mind riddled with foggy thoughts. He wanted to tear into you, but another part of him prevented him from doing so. He wanted to grab you and hold you against him for some reason. He liked the warmth your body provided. But another part of him felt nothing at all. 
He watched you leave in a stupor, his mind just barely grasping onto the image and memory of you. It’s true, he wasn’t completely gone, but he was fading fast. 
You cried violently as you stumbled back to the exit. When you banged on the doors, you heard the plywood being ripped off and the doors swinging open. Soap pulled you back into the base and held you at arm's length. “What happened?” he asked desperately. You were sobbing and covered in blood.
Should you tell him? Would Soap let you return to Simon knowing he wasn’t gone? Or would they make you stay here, letting Simon slip away forever? 
You suddenly regretted leaving him. You should have stayed with Simon, even if he was a shell of who he used to be. You should have waited the time out together until he fully lost himself, and you would let him take you down with him. 
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yumeboshi · 5 months
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𝜗𝜚。.. ❛ #HER NEW BOYFRIEND’S NEXT!
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𐙚 synopsis。.short hcs/scenarios of jealous yandere aventurine & sunday ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
.。𝜗𝜚 cw。suggestive themes . general yandere themes, brainwashing, gaslighting in Sunday’s part, mentions of violence, mentions of scide, imprisonment, except for aventurine relationships are not established, WARNING: extremely obsessed and smitten with you, read at risk!
.。𝜗𝜚 a/n。honestly why do i think sunday will be literally the most dangerous yandere you could ask for。man has all the resources to brainwash you and lock you up pls
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#SྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིUNDAY.。
。… a classic yandere obsessed over control. 。literally, he will be such a control freak. he has eyes all over penacony. he would have already kept track of what kind of soulglad you drink, when you get home, what your sleep habit is, all under the span of a week, and that’s before meeting you. obviously, as your future spouse, he is just obtaining information he needs for the future! 。will treat you surprisingly equally to his other guests when you meet, he doesn’t want gossip to get around, and he wants to make this “process” as natural as possible. 。after you are successfully within his area of control, he will start to monitor you even more meticulously- who you meet, what you do in your dreams.. he is a bit disappointed you don’t visit him on your own accord, but that will all be arranged soon! 。will casually go up to your room to ask you about “room service satisfaction” when he’s actually just busy breathing in your lovely scent and assessing your room for any “threat.” 。he doesn’t like that you’re affecting his ability to work. he’s impatient, of course, but he knows that he will have to wait for the perfect opportunity to whisk you away like a knight in shining armor. And all he needs is a little pawn to play the act of a villain- oh, your little male acquaintance will do! 。he’s like that- using people around you as puppets to his grand stage. Sunday is well-informed about morals, of course. But he won’t feel much guilt, not when he knows this is all for the ‘greater good.’ “They” will approve of it. 。and so, he starts to crack his charming facade- he will start asking you for private meetings, and he will put you in a vip room so you are isolated. He does this under the mask of ‘danger,’ saying that you have faced too many threats and he needs to ensure his guest’s safety. 。If you call your friends for help? The next day, they are mysteriously gone from penacony. You call them but your phone is out of service. 。but if you are still not charmed over his chivalry.. he’ll have to settle for easier methods.
❝ WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?”
Your demand was choked with such pleasant sobs that SUNDAY couldn’t help but slip out a small victorious smirk that quickly masks itself to a concerned facade when you fix your angry watery eyes at him.
“I know it was you,” you continue, pacing around his office while he remains nonchalantly seated, trailing his eyes to your every step. “You made all my friends vanish from penacony, you had my parents escorted away to aeons know where, you stowed me here like I’m some kind of precious little jewelry for your eyes only. What do you want from me?” The evident snarl in your words merely makes Sunday tip his head a little, staring at you with the same serene look that frustrated you.
“Oh, sweetheart, you got it all wrong.” He shakes his head in disappointment and rose up from his seat, taking silent strides to you at an alarming speed that made you stumble backwards to the door. “‘They’ have done nothing for you during your stay in the Reverie. You are always disappointed with them, but you choose not to speak up. It is such a painful sight, you are just like a bird who lost its voice.” His voice is surprisingly gentle, dangerously neutral, which scares you, and makes you doubt yourself.
Maybe you were just being stupid, Sunday was acting like it wasn’t a big deal. And your friends indeed did not do much for you here, unlike Sunday, who provided you with all this luxury without accepting anything in return. You feel safe here, almost. You blink a little- the heat that had pounded through your ears was gone, and now you feel like a harmless puppy that just barked his best at a wolf.
“It‘s natural to be mad, dear.” His hand delicately entangles itself into your locks, and you stare at him, unable to say anything as he soothingly whispers. “It is hard to understand actions for the greater good. relax, sweetheart. Everything will be better now,” he purrs, staring right into your eyes. They are endless depths of azure. They are very, very mesmerizing, you think.
“Everything will be better now,” you realize, and you sigh into his arms that seemed to suddenly be present around you. But the worry disperses, you are fine with being close with him. His embrace is welcoming and soft. You don’t want to leave it ever again.
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#AྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིVENTURINE.。
。this man takes the cake for being the most jealous man in honkai 。he’s a charmer. he wins you over easily, because who could resist his charisma and his wealth, honestly. He flirts his way easily with you— unlike Sunday, he likes an impromptu plan, and rather enjoys surprises- any attempt of you trying to break up with him will not irritate him at all, contrary to the former. 。“Your attempts fascinate me. Too bad you lost all your bargaining chips. You gonna play another round with me, love? I’m more than willing to, you know.” 。he will be pleased, intrigued at how he can break you down again. he likes a little chase and gamble, he doesn’t want his prey served on his plate, he likes the thrill of hunt. 。he’d even be impressed if you escape him. But not for long, because he will bring you back to where you belong. 。this man will barely be angry over you. He won’t force any affection onto you, he satisfies himself by buying you expensive clothes instead, as if you are his little doll. He is content with you being a quiet and submissive trophy. 。what this man does not tolerate, however, is you being with anyone else. He cannot bear the thought that someone is around you more than he is, and that you rely on someone more than you rely on him. Aventurine has pride over his abilities, anyone taking you is like taking his most precious trump card. 。despite the jealousy he feels, he will still regard this as a particularly entertaining game. But he knows he will win this gamble, too.
❝ AH, IT’S SUCH A THRILLING GAME, ISN’T IT, SWEETHEART?”
You watch AVENTURINE toss the coin into the air and roll it around his fingers, his mesmerizing eyes examine the bitter look of defeat on your features.
“This isn’t funny,” you sobbed, despair dawning on you upon realizing that you truly lost everything to him. You had no more moves left in this game he put you in. He was merciful enough to spare your blood relatives, but your friends were gone- including the nice and sweet, innocent guy you shared friendly banter with for barely an hour.
“A gamble is fair and share, love.” He puts his hand on your waist, giving you a short kiss that tasted of wine. You felt nothing but defeat as he tossed the coin on the table where it flopped. “You just picked the wrong set of cards to play with.”
He is close to you all of a sudden, his hot breath tickling your skin, smelling of victory and wealth. His eyes stare right into you as he chuckles, the sadistic glint in his eyes glitter a little more when you feel a tear escape your eye. He leans to your ear, lightly biting your earlobe as he adds,
“Nobody wins with a deck with only clovers, my love. A shame that your cards were so… discardable.”
He laughs at that, watching your stunned face. He loves the look of surprise on you. It is endearing, it shows so well that you do not know how to play his game at all.
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charliemwrites · 10 months
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Part 4 of obsessed Johnny.
(Part 3 is here!)
(CW for nonconsensual ‘sort-of’ free use and edging; and again - dubious consent. Please stay safe!!)
Johnny’s favorite pastime is playing with you. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he’s being purposefully cruel, but no. He’s just… strangely preoccupied with your body.
He spends most nights cradling you between his legs, your back to his chest, arms wrapped around you. The two of you watch tv or movies, share popcorn - sometimes he watches you play on your Switch or reads over your shoulder.
It started out almost innocent (so to speak) in the beginning. He’s a fidgety guy, you’ve known that long before this whole mess, used to smile to yourself when you cleaned up straw wrappers and clean napkins folded into odd shapes.
So you barely notice when he starts fiddling with the hems of your sweatshirt and long shirts, picking at strings or running his thumb over knit textures. When he moved to your socks, that caught your attention but never went very far - just tugging at elastic lace or rolling/unrolling the tops along your thighs.
And then one night, as the two of you are watching the latest superhero movie, he hand creeps under your panties. You jolt the instant his fingers grazes your slit, hands twitching as you debate the dangers of redirecting him.
“Something wrong, Bonnie?” he asks against your ear, genuinely curious. “Is it too loud?”
It occurs to you that he genuinely might not realize what he’s doing - that reaching for you is just a thoughtless action like folding up bits of paper.
“Your hand is in my underwear,” you explain.
A pause. “Oh, so it is.” And to your surprise, he returns to hugging you.
It happens again though, this time you’re so preoccupied trying to beat a video game level that you almost don’t notice until his middle finger glides over your clit. You suck in a breath and die instantly.
“Damn,” he mutters. “Thought you had it that time. Gonna give it another go or you done for the night.”
Stuttering, you say you’ll give it another try, almost morbidly curious about how far he’ll go. Pretty far it turns out. He toys with your clit for 15 minutes before you clear your throat and shift, feeling unbearably wet and achy.
“Oh, shite. I did it again,” he mumbles, extracting his hand and settling it on the outside of your thigh. “No wonder you keep dying.”
The next time is during an intense tv show you’ve both gotten really into. It’s distracting from the weird reality you’ve found yourself in - but not weird enough that you can ignore Johnny tapping his finger nervously over your clit. You swear your heartbeat is starting to match that rhythm - tap, tap, tap. He doesn’t get the hint when you shift this time, eyes locked on the screen as he mutters to himself.
“No way is he secretly her brother. No fuckin’ way.”
You try to ignore it. Hope it’ll end in its own time when the tension dies down. It doesn’t. He lets the next episode load automatically, babbling to you about the crazy cliffhanger.
As it opens, his fingers travel down your slit to your entrance, find the slick there and play in it. Microthrusts against your leaking hole, just wetting his fingertip before dragging it out, up to your clit, three circles, then back down again.
It’s maddening but it’s not enough. You’re biting your lip so hard you’re surprised you don’t taste blood, thighs twitching with each jolt of pleasure coursing through you.
On and on it goes, slow and absent, maddening. Literally just playing with your pussy like a fidget toy. He’s not even fully hard against your lower back! Just the normal amount of mildly turned on that having you in his lap produces.
It’s driving you into a fucking spiral. So so sensitive, so close to the edge, but never enough. You just lay there trapped against him, dripping and desperate and determined to be quiet because you don’t know what else to do now. You can’t let yourself get off to this - but you also can’t find the words to remind him to stop.
When the episode - the finally - finally ends, he pulls his hand away, already gearing up to discuss theories for the next season with you. Instead, he’s cut off as you hiccup, near tears with being denied.
“What’s wrong, hen? I didn’t think it was that bad!” he says.
“You-you were…” you can’t get the words out, give up entirely. Time to see if he really is as devoted to pleasing you as he always swears.
You crawl out of his lap, flip onto your back, and yank him down by the hair. He makes a startled noise, eyes going huge, and then whimpers as his cheek presses into your absolutely soaked panties. Even that is a cruel but unintentional tease.
“Fix it,” you near sob.
“Of course, baby, of course,” he hurries to say, wriggling into a better position. “I’m sorry, love. So sorry. Got you all spun up, huh? Didn’t mean to. You’re just so soft and-”
You whine. “Soap, shut up and lick me!”
He moans, hips jerking hard into the mattress. “Yes, ma’am.”
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mrpenguinpants · 2 years
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Look, but don't touch. [ Harbinger Edition ]
— You're the only one who's allowed to touch him. Likewise, he's the only one that's allowed to touch you.
— Childe, Pantalone, Scaramouche, and Dottore
[Masterlist]
Love Language Series | Touch [ Here ] | Actions | Time | Words | Gifts
This is written before the Sumeru quest. Harbingers are their own warning.
This was a fever dream, incredibly self-indulgent, don't talk to me about this ok. Honestly don't even wanna tag people in this (´。_。`)
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Tartaglia
Childe is friendly but he always keeps himself at arm's distance from anyone who isn't his family. The kind of guy that acts like he loves everyone but he truly doesn't like anyone. Always polite but never kind. He won't be outwardly hostile if one of the cicin mages decides she wants to try her luck and cuddle up to him, he sort of admires her bravery, but the hardened stare and indifferent response are awkward enough for anyone to bail halfway.
So what a surprise to everyone when it's Childe himself that pulls you into him. It's not a friendly hug either, he quite literally drags you into his embrace as soon as he sees you, locks his arms around your waist, and spins you around. Before he catches himself and gently settles you down and pretends as if he didn't boldly announce to everyone that you're special.
He is a harbinger at the end of the day so any intimate relationships he has need to be hidden lest he puts you in danger. That said, he doesn't do a very good job. He gets agitated and fidgety if he can't hold you, longing gazes in your direction even if someone else is speaking to him about something important. Whether it's shooing specks of dust off your shoulder, a tap on the arm, or the brief brush of your fingers against his whenever he hands something to you. He always finds some way to touch you.
It's always the worst and best time to speak with Childe if you happen to be there. On the upside, Childe is more likely to give his approval to whatever his subordinates ask just so they go away and leave you both alone. On the downside, because physical touch somehow makes Childe drowsy and almost drunk, he's useless.
It wasn't always like this. During your first months as something more than friends, not quite lovers, he kept you at an arm's distance just like everyone else. Only the occasional arm over your shoulder or a hand on the small of your back, just enough to show you that you meant something to him. But over time, those touches began to linger until the dynamic shifted and he began to rely on your touches to keep him sated. On particularly stressful days, he'll pull you aside into his office with a rushed excuse to just hold you in his lap. He's recharging, don't make tease him.
But he's not a selfish lover. If you need comfort or just want to be held, he'll gladly throw his plans out the window just to spend time with you. What's wrong? Did someone upset you? Want me to take care of them? He'll offer anything to make you feel better while you're cuddled up to him and it makes his heart flutter when you say you just want to stay beside him. He has a bad habit of resting his entire weight on top of you if you're both ever lying down. All that muscle is heavy but sometimes it's comfortable until his elbow accidentally digs into your side.
Childe can be polite if someone else wants to touch him but he's baring his teeth at anyone that has the audacity to place their hands on you. If someone bumps into you? He's fine, accidents happen. Someone moves you to the side? Whatever he won't throw a fit over that. He believes in the below-the-shoulder, above-the-waist, hands not included, rule. If anyone touches you, it's the only time when Childe will throw his reputation out the window.
Scaramouche likes to compare him to a dog and he'll gladly growl and bark if that's what it takes for people to get the hint and leave you alone. He'll slide his arms around your waist, tilt your chin up, and without any concern about the scene that this will cause, kisses you deeply. All the while sending the nastiest glare to the person that touched you. Look, don't touch. You're his.
Childe likes to believe that he has self-restraint. He's a soldier first and foremost so he has discipline beaten into his bones. But right now he's close to snapping the pen in his hands and hurling it into that bastard's forehead. He can feel Ekaterina's concerned gaze on him, shifting on her feet nervously, as she struggles to push through her explanation of his assignment quickly. Unfortunately, it's all white noise to Childe as all of his attention is on the cicin mage whose being a bit too friendly for his liking.
"Lord Tartaglia?"
Of course, you don't blink twice at it. He's seen how that loud electro pirate dotes on you and is overly physically affectionate herself. Maybe he should also fight her as well after he's done dealing with this cicin mage.
"Childe?" Ekaterina tries one last time, using a more familiar name to see if that would catch her superior's attention but alas, he was too busy glaring daggers into her college. Ekaterina raises a hand to lightly tap on her superior's shoulder to get his attention but just as her fingertips brush against the fabric of his uniform, Childe's death glare is directed at her. She flinches away from the otherwise easy-going Childe, her mask doing little to hide her startled expression.
"Sorry, sorry, not meant for you," Childe blinks away the hate from his ocean eyes, coming to his senses as he runs a hand through his hair, "What were you saying?"
"There is no need to apologize, Lord Tartaglia, I overstepped," Ekaterina, bless her heart, waves off the sudden aggression but takes a step back. Before she can continue, she overhears you saying goodbye to the mage and your footsteps coming closer. A small surprised noise escapes your chest as Childe pulls you into his arms immediately. If she didn't know Childe, she could almost say his expression was a bit cute with how pouty he was being. Although the look in his eyes says otherwise now that she was just on the receiving end. This seems to be a common occurrence because you just giggle and hug him back just as tightly.
"Please don't harm her. She was just being nice," you mumble into his chest.
"I'll think about it," he says, his eyes never leaving the mage.
Pantalone
On the one hand, the banker always carries this prestige that makes most people stay away in awe. No one wants to get on the wrong side of the man who basically funds the country of Snezhnaya. On the other hand, Pantalone has an ethereal beauty that compels people to come closer and touch. To see if the porcelain skin is real, feel if he's muscular or lean under the heavy fabric, or sneak a peek at what colour the banker's eyes are. It makes you kind of giddy knowing that this man belongs to you. That you know the answer to all these speculations.
You aren't sure when it started happening but at some point, he always ends up sort of mindlessly touching him. Placing a hand on his arm or knee, running your fingers through his hair, or gently rubbing away the stress from his shoulders. There wasn't an ulterior motive, Pantalone was just too handsome that you can't help but touch him just to make sure he's real. He thought you were overexaggerating a bit but he seemed deeply pleased at your confession since it was coming from you personally. That egotistical bastard.
But he always reciprocated your touch. Offering an arm for you to hold onto, brushing the hair out of your face, or rubbing small circles into your hand. Small gestures of affection would occasionally lead to more. The fact that Pantalone of all people let you be this close was something you secretly prided in yourself. You couldn't help but rub his newfound privilege in front of anyone that got too close that this elegant man was yours to hold. Look all you want but you're the only one that gets to touch.
You weren't aware of Pantalone's level of aversion to touch until he almost caused a scene at a gathering. It was meant more for looks and reputation, the occasional business talk, but overall a lax evening. One of the ladies thought it would be a good gesture to place her hand against Pantalone's arm. A bit flirty but innocent enough that the sheer disdain that swirled in Pantalone's eyes made her flinch away surprised. He struck her hand away, the sound carrying through the now-silent ballroom as everyone turned to the sound. You were surprised as well that Pantalone of all people, the image of control and ever-smiling, lips turned down into a repulsed scowl. Your feet quickly moved over to him, quietly excusing the woman for her careless act, and ushering her away before anything escalated. No one spoke of that night.
Ever since then you've always kept your hands firmly glued to your sides lest you feel his anger. If you happened to brush against his finger you would splutter out apologies and scamper away. If you felt his hand hover near you, you always assumed you were in the way and quickly moved aside for him. Overall, you acted as if it was you that was uncomfortable with touch. With each passing day that you fled from his hand, the crease in Pantalone's frown grew deeper.
It comes to a head one night when you get to see how Pantalone's aversion to touch applies to you as well. Occasionally some wealthy noble will host a gala and as one of the Tsaritsa Harbingers, Pantalone will be required to be present for at least one of them. Given his status, most of the attendees flock over to him which leaves poor you to meander about and find something to do with the time. Despite being his lover, you're not privy to what goes on with his work and frankly, the business talk and parties bore you. At least these places have food.
He sees you conversing with a man he knows is from Liyue, hoping to find more investors and trade partners here in Snezhnaya. He's already spoken to the man and rejected his offer so that's most likely why he's speaking to you, the banker's partner to garner sympathy. Although from the looks of things, you don't seem that impressed either. You notice his stare, perhaps his expression betrays him because your eyes grow concerned before giving a polite bow and turning to walk away and to him. If that was all then perhaps tonight wouldn't have ended so badly.
The man grabs your arm painfully enough for you to whimper and that's all Pantalone needs. He doesn't even try to hide his expression behind a smile, his lips set into a straight line. He grabs the man's arm tightly, the leather of his gloves crinkling from the force, and he nearly breaks the man's arm. How dare this inferior social climber put his filthy hands on you. You have to plead with him to let the man go, desperately trying to pry his grip away as the businessman begs the Harbinger on his knees that he didn't know.
Pantalone-
Pantalone is pissed.
You've never seen him this angry before. The lady all those nights ago doesn't even compare close to the anger radiating off him. His fingers flex still as he leads you away into an isolated hallway. You're not even sure if he knows where he's going, completely blindsided by rage. So you quickly step closer and throw your arms around him, stopping him in his tracks as you bury your face into the soft fabric of his suit.
"It's okay. I'm okay," you whisper softly into his back. You're not afraid, he won't get angry, not with you. Never with you. But it still pains you to see him this way. You feel more than you hear his deep sigh before slowly turning around and taking you into his arms. "Thank you. I didn't mean to start anything, you just looked displeased and I got worried. Oh, I'm sorry-"
You quickly move to shuffle out of Pantalone's hold but you can barely get two steps back before his touch grows firm and you're trapped. Despite how strong his hold is, he gently tilts your chin up so you can look into his pretty eyes. He really does have a nice eye colour you think in the back of your mind.
"You've been avoiding me. Care to enlighten me as to why that's the case? Did someone feed your mind with little lies?" Pantalone sounds coy but you can hear the undertone of worry. As if he's done something wrong which you quickly shake your head to.
"W-Well, that incident with the lady from a few weeks ago, the one in the red and black dress, you looked really angry when she touched you so..." you trailed off as your eyes look at anywhere that isn't the man in front of you, nervously twisting the cuff of your sleeve. When you actually hear it back it does sound a bit ridiculous to believe that but you just didn't want to make him uncomfortable. Or make him act a certain way just because you liked physical touch or to uphold appearances.
"And you thought you were comparable to people like that? That I would allow special treatment just because you were mine? That I would reciprocate to anyone but you?"
You fumble a bit at how honest his words are, searching for some way to justify yourself but at the end of the day, you'll knock your head against the wall for how stupid your logic is. So you stand on your tip toes and reach hesitantly up towards his face. Pantalone's face reminds neutral but he slowly leans into his touch, his muscles finally relaxing just by your touch.
Scaramouche
How the hell he tolerates you is anyone's guess. How the hell you tolerate him is Celestia's guess. He has the worst attitude, is quick to anger, flaunts his authority wherever he goes, and is overall a terrible person to be around. Yet every time he looks over his shoulder, you're always one step away from kicking at his heels. Which you have accidentally done before and somehow survived so he must like you a smidge. You tell him it's because it's out of spite that you're still here and spite is a powerful feeling. He of all people should know.
Scaramouche despises anyone being within his personal space, which is already a pretty big range, so the idea of someone touching him is repulsive to him. If he somehow was in danger and someone touched him in order to save his life, he would probably throw a fit and shock them. Their only reward is that he doesn't kill them. It's not like he has to worry too much, no one really wants to be in his presence longer than they have to and any admirers are quickly turned off within the first couple of seconds. Which makes it all the more baffling that you still hang around him and test just how far you can poke his limits.
The first time you touched him was by accident. Someone had bumped into you causing you to fall into Scaramouche. Luckily for you, you managed to put your hands out first and brace yourself against the wall but you had successfully caged the Balladeer between your arms. If you weren't currently fearing for your life you might have laughed at the horrified expression on the Harbinger's face. The only reason you survived that day was that Tartaglia chose that exact moment to waltz in and frankly, he was a far bigger headache than you were.
He's not sure how you managed to worm your warm into his cold non-existent heart but at some point, he got used to your presence in his life. A few words to take care of himself, extra paperwork being filled, or shooing away other soldiers so he could have space. All of these acts of kindness were met with half-baked insults and suspicious looks. Every time he asked you why the hell you were acting like he was some helpless doll you always answered the same, you just felt like it and he looked like he kinda needed it. Which was so baffling to him that you managed to walk away with your head intact.
It started off with small things. Like you're both feral cats that are trying to co-exist in the same alleyway. You always announce your presence, give him enough time to leave, and your touch is barely there. You never do anything close to intimate, never hold his hand or hold his face, and he never reciprocates ever. Although it speaks volumes when he doesn't push you away ever. You're always nearby, sitting close, and you both exist contently.
But just like a feral cat, with enough time and love, even they will begin to grow comfortable and domesticated. The look on his subordinate's face was hilarious when little old you waltzed over to the sixth harbinger, plopped down into his personal space, and literally sprawled yourself over his lap to see what he was looking at. Just to one-up the absurdness, Scaramouche didn't seem bothered in the slightest, only calling you an idiot for not being able to read the document that was right in his hands.
Although there are some downsides to being so close to Scaramouche. He's possessive with the power the enforce his pride. You have to constantly scold him that he can't go frying anyone that comes within two feet of you. It's hardly efficient and it's annoying having to scream just to know what time it is.
The you from years ago would have balked at how casual you were speaking with the infamous Balladeer.
"All I'm saying is you sound like a possessive maniac," you huff, your arms crossing over your chest as you frown down at the sitting man. You doubt he's even paying attention to you because if he isn't throwing spite around then he's filtering you out of his mind. Scaramouche barely acknowledges your words, still fiddling around with the Electro Archon's gnosis. It gives off faint sparks of electro every time he rolls it over his fingers but he doesn't give any signs of pain. Maybe because he's an electro-user? Either way, he's obviously not listening to you. You let out a loud sigh before shrugging and turning on your heel to walk back into the camp. Suddenly, his hand shoots out and latches onto your wrist and he's yanking you down. The you from years ago would have fainted seeing you sprawled over your superior's lap. As your vision tilts to the sky you can't help but think that for such a small body, he sure has a lot of strength. He wears a bored expression, his other hand is cradling his head while his elbow is on his knee, before a nasty smirk makes its way over his face.
"Yeah? So what?" Scaramouch says, his hand stopping to firmly hold the gnosis, though now one of his hands is now settled on your hip. You blink. Huh, you...weren't exactly expecting the ever-prideful Balladeer to blatantly admit that.
"Well, the "what" is that it makes it incredibly inconvenient to talk to anyone. Everyone avoids me like the plague because their scared you're doing to kick down their door and attack them," you pout, grumpily adjusting your head to lay on his knee, "Also you need to eat more. You make a horrible headrest."
"That's fine. You won't need anyone else," he says dismissively.
You open your mouth to say something but the look in his eyes makes you falter. He's serious. A mixture of a past memory, the present moment of you both together, and a far-off dream all dance in his eyes. It's a look you've never seen before on Scaramouche's face despite how long you've worked under him and you can't help but be mesmerized by it. It's likely the first and last time you'll ever see him be honest. But it's quickly over as his eyes morph into snarky glee, his lips pulling into a mean grin.
"You look stupid."
Il Dottore
People are downright terrified to even be in the same room as the infamous doctor. There's never a safe moment and anyone could be the next test subject depending on his mood. It doesn't matter who it is, even his own segments, if someone touches him that means they've just volunteered to be his next experiment. It's suffocating when Dottore is out and not locked in his lab because everyone need's to be hyperaware of where the doctor is located in the room. So to say that Dottore tolerates you is a massive understatement.
He actually quite likes to parade you around, almost like you're his newest addition to his collection. Touch isn't a problem for him if he's the one initiating it given how often he's dragging you around like you're some pet. He's not gentle in the slightest, nearly pulling your arm out in his crazed rush to show you his newest creation. You would joke and say that in moments like these, he's the one that acts like the pet. Too excited to show its owner its newest achievements. But you have a sliver of sanity in your mind so you keep your mouth shut.
Every moment with Dottore is a warped sense of time. You've been with the Doctor for a long time, before he became a Harbinger, and you don't know how your relationship progressed to this stage. You're walking on a tightrope of old colleges that are too intertwined with history to be separated or co-dependent individuals that need death to finally leave each other. So when he touches you softly, affectionally, you stumble and fall off your rope. The mad doctor laughing from above, arms still outstretched from where he's pushed you.
Half of it is madness, and half of it is out of genuine love. Although, to Dottore, madness and love are the same things. His acts of affection are spontaneous and equally as fleeting. One second he's rattling off medical terms and theories, pauses in his rant just to give you a deep kiss no matter who's around you to witness the act, and proceeds as if nothing happens. That's not to say you don't enjoy it when he decides to reward you, you just wished it wasn't in front of so many people. You suspect he does it on purpose.
There's no softness or quiet time aside from the very very few and far between moments Dottore decides to indulge you. He's a busy man, his mind only built for progress, and he has better things to do than to play pretend. But for you, the one who forcibly carved space into his heart, he can make arrangements. Only for a short while. Some days he may hold you as if you'll shatter if he squeezes any harder, other days he'll push your hair away from your eyes quietly, and one day he kisses you as if you're something more.
Unlike Dottore, you don't have an intimidating reputation. People can touch you if they want to. It makes you a bit happy when Childe will pat you on the back or ruffle your hair cheekily. He's also one of the few who can get away with it as well since Dottore can't physically harm him for touching you since he's a fellow Harbinger. Besides, people speak with their eyes more. Since that doesn't qualify as anyone touching you, Dottore won't do anything. So they stare.
They stare at how the Harbinger holds you in a special place. You aren't remarkable, you're the same as the rest of them. Yet you're untouchable and invincible from the man who can change their entire lives. Mistakes occur frequently when Dottore is in the room, the slip of a finger because everyone is too focused on staying out of the Doctor's way. You get to stand beside someone like that.
It's been a hard day. A very hard day. You're absolutely exhausted and ready to curl up into a ball as soon as you get to your room. You aren't even sure what exactly happened. One second you were doing your job and the next your head was on the ground with a pulsing pain on your right cheek. It's not unusual for patients to lash out but under those circumstances, they don't have anything to do with you intimately. You know what people think about your relationship with Dottore. What people who only glimpse into the relationship you have with him think. Usually, they stay silent, only judging you with their eyes but always silent. That is until nearly 10 minutes ago.
"You're late."
You barely react when you hear his voice. Of course, it's him. God, what bad timing. He's the last person you want to see right now, especially in this state. You only give him a nod and mumbled out apologies, stumbling over your feet like a newborn lamb when his hand latches onto your wrist to drag you off again. You think you might have his fingerprints as bruises now. Another thing people can mistakenly think about your relationship. You only know you're crying when you hear the splatter of your tears against the tiled floors and Dottore's footsteps come to a halt. His grip on you has gotten tighter.
You're startled out of your wallowing when warm hands cup your face, brushing your tears away. His gloves are off. When did he take them off? Dottore simply looks at you as you silently cry. You're too tired to apologize, too tired to break down in sobs. Your arms hang uselessly at your sides but you close your eyes and lean into his touch.
"Give me their name."
He whispers it softly. You think back at the girl that struck you. You think she's new, she has to be. You know that if you say her name, you won't see her tomorrow. But you're too tired right now. So with no hesitation, you volunteer her to become the next test subject.
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elsafromcabinsix · 3 months
Text
that kind of love never dies | chapter one
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summary: the one where barbara thinks about an act of rebellion.
pairing: jake x mc
word count: 1.3K
warnings: tkolnd takes place after the events of episode 10; cover images found on pinterest; english is not my first language.
author’s note: even though she lives in the usa, my main character, barbara, is brazilian. i added terms and expressions that we use in our country, as well as cultural elements, to this fanfic. the words that appear in portuguese are highlighted and you can contact me if you have any questions.
masterlist
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Barbara was sprawled out on the dorm carpet, reading a Lucy Maud Montgomery novel she found by chance in the university library, when her cell phone began vibrating on the nightstand. Without wasting time, she closed the book and got up, waiting to hear from her roommate, Meera, but, when Barbara swiped her finger across the lock screen, she found some text messages from an unknown number.
i would like to invite you again to eat something at that chinese restaurant
if you want to meet me, just show up there tomorrow
i'll be waiting for you :)
Her head started to throb just at the possibility of it being who she was imagining, but she quickly pushed the thought away.
Jake wouldn't put himself in danger like that.
After everything that happened in Grimrock, Duskwood's chief of police, Alan Bloomgate, personally went after her to conduct the interrogation, and, more than once, made it very clear that it was best for her to stay away from her new friends for a while. He didn't go into detail when he told her about what happened at the Ironsplinter Mine, but he confirmed that Richy was alive — despite having some serious injuries — and that Jake had fled from the FBI agents during the confusion caused by the explosion.
All the messages she sent and received during that time became evidence. Barbara had what it took to close Hannah Donfort's case literally in the palm of her hand, including the kidnapper's confession.
Consequently, she also had the means that could lead the people who were after Jake straight to him.
She was interrogated by the FBI countless times for months, until Alan decided to intervene and convinced her to hand over her cell phone to them in exchange for her old life. Since then, Barbara has not been part of the joint investigation. Or at least that's what they say — she's too smart to really believe that.
For a few seconds, she considered the chance that it was someone trying to play a trick on her. The video Lilly Donfort posted accusing her of kidnapping had gone viral across the Columbia University campus. Even her grandmother, who lived in the interior of Brazil, found out about her involvement with a hacker wanted by the North American government. However, no one else knew about the brief conversation they had about the chinese restaurant.
Except, of course, the FBI.
Without a doubt, it was a trap. Barbara felt her face turn red. It seemed that solving an old international murder case, giving up her privacy, being forced to abandon her group of friends and possibly cheating on the guy she was in love with was not enough. She also needed to act as bait when it was convenient.
Barbara huffed, irritated. Little did they know that Jake had no contact. Their partnership in crime had ended almost a year ago.
Still, there was no reason to decline the invitation. She could very well take advantage of the opportunity to tell some truths to those nosy agents, and as a bonus she would have an excuse to go to Germany without Alan being able to question her too openly.
Her lips lifted into a smile as the plan emerged in her mind.
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After going through customs at Zurich Airport, picking up luggage and going to an exchange office to exchange some notes, only an hour and fifteen minutes by car separated Barbara from Duskwood. Luckily, there were several yellow taxis forming a line next to the sidewalk, because it would be a nightmare to have to deal with someone trying to compete for the same vehicle as her.
She walked out of the lounge, pulling her hot pink rolling suitcase, and turned on her smartphone to announce on the family's group chat that she had arrived safely. But before she could check her contact list to see if her parents were online, she collided with a young man's broad chest.
She jumped away from him, apologizing — or at least trying to — in german. He laughed softly, grabbing her arm to stop her from tripping over herself, and for a moment, Barbara forgot to even breathe. The young man seemed to be a few years older than her, he was tall, had dark hair and prominent round eyes that resembled the curve of a teardrop, he was wearing a white sweatshirt with a hood and black jeans.
“I'm sorry, I didn't see you.” He spoke in english, with a slight accent.
“No problem, it was my fault.” Barbara quickly straightened up, realizing that she had somehow stared too long.
The young man analyzed her from head to toe with amusement before bending down and picking up the cell phone that had flown out of her hand during the impact.
“I believe this is yours.” He joked, handing the device to her.
“Thank you.”
He nodded curtly and turned, making his way through the travelers entering and exiting the airport, as silent as a wraith.
She was inexplicably disappointed to see him leave, however she had more important things to deal with. Then, she handed the luggage to the driver to put in the trunk and got into the taxi, giving the address of the Gates Hotel, on the outskirts of Duskwood.
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Barbara ran across the room, feeling the cold floor beneath her feet. She was considerably late, but as far as she remembered, she had never arrived on time to participate in the interrogations, so whoever was waiting for her at the restaurant wouldn't mind too much. She put on a black strapless dress, put on her highest heels and curled her wet hair with her fingers, leaving a small trail of water on the floor.
Through an opening in the peach curtains, she noticed that the rain had picked up outside, beating violently against the window pane. She cursed under her breath, hoping someone at the front desk could lend her an umbrella, and before Barbara could procrastinate her meeting with the FBI Special Agent any further, she took one last look at the floor mirror near the entrance hall, realizing that she was dressed for revenge.
“Someone would definitely approve of that.”
Smiling to herself, she went down a small flight of stairs to the ground floor, where the girl at the reception was reading a magazine with Nicholas Galitzine's photo on the cover.
“How can I help you?” She asked in english, without taking her eyes off the celebrity gossip.
“Hey, how you doin'? Could you lend me an umbrella, please?”
“Of course.” She said, reaching for the object under the counter and handing it to her. “A fee of two euros will be added to your room bill.” Barbara sighed, surprised, as she mentally converted the currency. “What?” The receptionist looked up, frowning. “Did you think it would be free?”
“No, obviously not.” Barbara lied, smiling politely.
“Return it by midnight or I will have to charge the full value of the item.” The girl announced, turning her attention to the magazine. Then she added: “Nice dress.”
“Okay, I'll pay when I check out.” She assured, walking towards the glass doors while opening her rented umbrella. “And thank you.”
“Have fun, Cinderella!”
Barbara regretted walking out the door as soon as she set foot on the sidewalk. Not just because of the rain, but because of the wind blowing your hair back. In any case, she had come too far to give up, and despite the storm, she could see the lights of the chinese restaurant through the blue haze a few meters ahead, on the other side of the street.
Before she could take another step, someone grabbed her arm and turned her around.
“What?” She blinked in amazement at the handsome young man she had met at the airport.
“Come with me.” He said, pulling her away from the hotel entrance.
“You are crazy? I do not know you!” Barbara shouted, dropping the umbrella near her feet. The rain completely drenched them both in moments. “Me solta!”
“Barbara, please.” He asked, breathing short.
The sadness in his voice stopped her struggling.
“How do you…?” She gasped, eyes wide. “Jake?”
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taglist: @daniiiworlds; @labemquarts; @deinily
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destiel-wings · 1 year
Text
Dean Winchester & hug dynamic analysis
I was thinking about how whenever Dean hugs someone he's almost always the one hugging the other and how this links to his psychological trauma of always being the caretaker of people, making himself bigger to protect them.
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Because that's how Dean sees himself, as a shield for others, and then I thought about how Cas actually is the shield, and he's HIS SHIELD, specifically, the only one who's really there to protect HIM, which is why it hits so much when we see this:
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The way Cas wraps his arms around him, trying to protect him with his whole body--that he'd use as a shield and give up in a second if he could spare him from any pain and save him.
(for context: Dean was about to go use the soul bomb on Amara there, it was a suicide mission)
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Bobby is another one that hits, he hugs him as the big hugger because he's his father, he loves him and he's actually here to protect him (and Dean LETS him -barely, but he lets him *and Cas* - in a way that he doesn't let Sam)
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I watched a compilation of Sam & Dean hugs to check if i was right about it, but it's almost always Dean the big hugger with Sam, except when he's about to die or Sam sees him alive again after losing him.
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Even then, Dean mostly tries to hug Sam as the big hugger anyway, with at least one arm, like a way to comfort him, making him feel protected, like his body language is saying "I'm here, I'm okay, I'm still strong, i can still protect you" (because their real father failed and Dean thinks it's his job).
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He rarely lets himself be the little one hugged with Sam, unless he's barely conscious. Which is why it kills me so much more now that in this moment (s14, when Dean was going to lock himself in the Ma'lak box cause he was possessed by Michael) and Sam has a desperate breakdown and punches him (to stop him) he forcefully hugs him as the little hugger, the way Dean always kept him, like a way of saying "I still need you to protect me, please don't do this to yourself".
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In the scene below he gives Sam his blessing to do a dangerous (possibly suicidal) mission, and one of his arms is down, but the other one tries to stay up--he's forcing himself to do it and he struggles because he still wants to protect him, but (as the seasons progress) he slowly becomes more prone to let go.
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So in this view the hug dynamic becomes an indicator of how Dean sees Sam (and himself) and his protector role, how adult and self sufficient he considers Sam, and how much he lets people around him take care of him, lowering his walls and letting himself be hugged.
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This is also why i think hugs from characters like Garth or Charlie are so special, because they're just like us: they see Dean and they just know that he needs to be hugged a lot, and that he's not used to it, so they just go for it-- and it's so normal and kind and spontaneous that Dean's just not used to it-- he doesn't know how to respond (especially with Garth, at the beginning, but as the seasons progress, he learns to, and he even initiates the hug eventually).
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I love the hugs where they're 50/50 (one arm up, one arm down both), feels like they're equals, both taking care of each other. I feel like with Sam and Dean, this indicates a healthier dynamic, because Dean lets go a little of the role that was imposed to him and manages to see Sam as the strong individual that he is. But the same applies to 50/50 hugs with other characters, like with Cas, where I feel like it testifies how equals they feel in terms of being fighters, there's a show of respect of each other's strength that transpires by the gesture (which is even more astounding considering that Cas is literally a powerful angel).
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And just to end on a destiel note, I'd like to note the possessiveness and protectiveness of Dean (rightfully so) whenever he finds Cas after he thought he had lost him, and how that translates into his body/hug language:
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boydepartment · 10 months
Note
hiii r u taking requests! if so can you do enhypen reaction where you call them in danger and they get super panicked
pick up- enhypen texts + scenarios
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a/n: HI ANON! i am always taking requests :) i hope you like it!!!!!!
warnings- dangerous scenarios, one reader gets followed, another one burns her hand, they aren’t dark at all tho :) nothing triggering
MASTERLIST
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jungwon-
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you had called jungwon a few minutes ago while walking home and you felt the presence of someone else. it was unusual for you to be walking home late from a study session and other students did too. however your intuition was raising red flags.
- “y/n are you okay? are you safe?” jungwon was panicking, you could hear it in his voice. you knew if he could he would drive over at this moment.
- “i’m okay. i just made it back to my abode. i’m just really shaken up i’m sorry for scaring you and calling you when you were working.”
- “baby please don’t ever apologize, you were scared and i’m glad you come to me for stuff like this.” you heard rustling on his end as you safely locked your door behind you. jungwon spoke up again, “i’m coming over with snacks and stuff. i’ll be there in 15.”
heeseung-
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you were home alone for the first time in years and heard people yelling loudly outside. usually your friend would be home with you but they were off with their family which left you by yourself. during the day you didn’t mind but at night it was different. when you peeked out your window the people were fighting and it scared you. leading you to call heeseung.
- “i’m on my way right now. why didn’t you tell me you were home alone?” heeseung got right to the point when you answered his call.
- “i’m sorry i didn’t think that it was important and i didn’t want you to get in trouble if you came over and-“
- “i don’t care about that. are the people still outside?” heeseung was rushing you could tell.
- “no….”
- “okay i am still on the way. stay on the phone for me pretty.”
jay-
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your hand was on fire, quite literally for a few seconds. and pick up the phone when jay called you back. which led him to rushing over to your home and using his key. immediately he rushed over to you and put your hand under the kitchen sink water. your burns weren’t horrible but they were pretty bad. jay swiftly picked you up and sat you down on the counter so he could wrap your hand.
- “i’m sorry i called when you were with your mom….” you mumbled into his shoulder. you were panicking and that alone made you exhausted.
- “i’m not mad at all baby i promise. is the bandage too tight?”
- you shook your head no and places small kisses on the side of his neck. you were too tired and overwhelmed to thank him. he knew and just swiftly carried you to your room.
jake-
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the first mistake your made was even going to this party. it was a stupid idea and you got roped in. so when the cops showed up and you scaled a wall, breaking your nail, scraping your knees, and falling into a rose bush , you immediately called jake.
- “okay where are you right now?” jake asked, you could hear his pants, jogging to your location on the life 360. he asked you to get it so he could see how close or far you two were always.
- “i’m now sitting next to the rose bu-“
- “ah i see you!” you saw jake jog up to you and kneel, “hop on. i’ll piggy back you to my dorm and we will get you all cleaned up okay?”
sunghoon-
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normally you don’t call sunghoon without asking first. it was just a thing you both did. so when you called he was immediately concerned.
- “baby can you hear me ? are you okay?” sunghoon frantically asked when you picked up.
- “i’m okay…. i just got scared because there was a loud noise in the library i’m sorry i panicked. you’re away again and i got paranoid without you.” you whispered into the phone. sunghoon tried not to softly smile, he missed you so much.
- “im here princess. talk to me tell me about your day. please.”
sunoo-
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your day was terrible. the week prior you and sunoo got caught getting coffee at 4am, and your face was covered thankfully, however, engenes are still sometimes crazy so you were paranoid. when you went to get groceries today, you had a couple of them go up to you and ask about your keychain. which was in the photo. obviously you played dumb but it was still scary.
- “they asked about your keychain? why don’t you take it off now?” sunoo asked, you were putting groceries away now.
- “you got it for me when you went to italy. i don’t want to take it off it reminds me of you.” you said and reached the top shelf.
- sunoo smiled to himself, “i’ll get you a new one. i’ll get you as many as you want.”
riki-
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you and riki had gone out to a themepark. no one knew except staff and the other members, you wanted a date and something nice to do since you both don’t get this a lot. the day was going great, and you both didn’t have a care in the world at the moment. at some point you both took bathroom breaks and were separated. as you waited by the men’s bathroom you decided to check your phone for the first time in hours. you saw tweets from a few seconds ago and they were of you, and riki. your eyes widened and you immediately went to a nook of the amusement park to call him. wanting to just hide away.
- “y/n where are you? you were supposed to be waiting for me outside of the bathroom? y/n what is going on?” he was looking for you frantically, if riki lost you at this park he didn’t know what he would do.
- “i’m between these two buildings and and-“ you were stuttering, you yelped when you felt someone pull you into their embrace, “please don’t hurt me!”
- riki looked down at you confused, “y/n it’s me? what happened?” you looked up at him blinking and showing your phone to him which had the screenshotted tweets.
- “fuck…”
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mrsdesade · 3 months
Text
Control;
Pairing: Homelander x fem!super (Ophera as usual) TW: NSFW, smut, sub!Homelander, praise, teasing, aftercare Words count: 2,3k Note: literally a pwp, when the voices obligates you to write something different more spicy than usual
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You thought you could leave, but his voice ordered suggested you to stay a little longer. To sin again. In the private swimming pool he had built in his apartment. Only because, after months, he learned that you loved taking hot baths after missions.
This time, after another demonstration of the fact that he could do whatever he wanted with your body, you decided to act bolder, ignoring his words, elegantly. Standing up from the water and walking towards the marble steps.
''You're not the only one who can do whatever he wants here. You had fun? Very well. But I'm leaving.''
''Ah, so you think you're in charge now?''
You're disobeying, you're going against his orders. He's not a fan of being challenged, he can't deny the thrilling feeling of your rebelliousness.
"Not yet, but what If I'm feeling more brave than usual?"
You came back, still standing in front of him, but he doesn't move from his position, sitting comfortably and smiling at you. You move a hand in his direction and softly touch his chin with a light gesture, moving a little his face in your direction.
There's a certain vulnerability in his expression as you move his face towards you. His eyes lock onto yours, the usual arrogance momentarily replaced with a hint of curiosity.
"Careful, doll. Don't push your luck too far."
You smiled a little, sitting on his lap once again in that long night, inside the hot water of the bathtub, and moving slowly close to his face. Showing no fear, the adrenaline of playing that dangerous game with him makes you feel alive. You know you're the only one, at the moment, that can handle him.
"You always say that, but in the end, we just end up fucking all night. You need to move on to something more creative, or I might get bored."
That dangerous last phrase, lips a few millimeters from his, just because you wanted, not thinking about the consequences, you never did. What a terrible mistake.
As you sit back on his lap, he can feel the thrill coursing through his veins. There's surprise in his eyes. He tries to keep his composure, but your words send a shiver down his spine.
"You little minx, you really think you're invincible, don't you?“
He grips the edge of the bathtub, knuckles turning white. The tension in the air is electric.
You remained still, trying to don't flinch and don't esitate, trying to be more in control of the situation. Everything is just a test, a dangerous test to see If you can keep him under control.
"Little minx, doll, etc All nicknames. I have a name, Homelander. Use it."
You ordered, pushing his patience even more. He grabs your waist, pulling you closer, until your bodies press against each other. His fingers digging into your skin as he tries to control the situation. He looks up at you with dark, fiery eyes, almost challenging your audacity.
"Oh, you want me to use your name? Is that it? You want me to remember you're more than just my pretty little toy?"
Your hands run before on his chest, then on his neck and at the end, on his blonde hair. At the beginning is just a caress, but suddenly you grab his scalp and move him in your direction with a firm movement.
"Am I really just a toy to you? A little fragile and useless toy? Really really really?"
You say in a low tone, your voice is sexy, melodic, the voice of a manipulator. Oh damn, you're really pushing him over the edge.
Homelander's breath hitches as you grab a handful of his hair, his body responding to your touch immediately. The pain from your grip is oddly thrilling, and he can't help but feel a rush of excitement coursing through him. He's absolutely not used to being dominated like this.
"What do you want me to say? That you're special? Unique? Are you looking for me to boost your confidence, Ophera?"
"Special? Unique? Oh dear, tell me something I don't know."
You purred at his ear, trying to make him shiver. To make shiver the most powerful and dangerous man on Earth. Your grip on his hair is firm, you can clearly feel his body under yours responding clearly.
That mixture of pain and desire is perfect to ignite his fire.
A low growl escapes Homelander's throat as you whisper in his ear, your voice sending a shiver down his spine. He can feel himself responding to your touch, his body betraying him, showing his desire for you.
"You really know how to tease, don't you?"
You sighed dramatically, since he's not giving what you're so kindly asking, you decided to play even more with him. Trying something more effective.
You moved on his naked lap, while he's waiting for an answer, with a decisive gesture, unexpectedly, you let him entering in you. Your eyes are fixed on his, to see every single reaction from him.
"So what about this method? This isn't teasing at all."
His blue eyes widen in shock as you unexpectedly guide him inside you, a mix of surprise and pleasure overtaking his features. He can't help but let out a gasp, his body tensing up at the sudden and overwhelming sensation.
"Ngh... F-fuck. What are you doing?"
He can barely speak, his voice strained and raspy as he struggles to control his reaction. His grip tighten, holding onto you like a lifeline.
"Just trying to be convincing.''
You smile, as mischievously as you've ever been with him, your movements are slow, absolutely intentional. Looking at him surprised by your actions. The grip you have on his hair has loosened a little. And you started caressing his cheeks, mixing pleasure and a mischievous care.
This time, you're in control.
"You're... playing dirty..."
"Of course I am, and I've just started.''
And then you add your last weapon, neck kisses. Delicate and sublime. Subtle and whispered kisses on his sensitive neck. Last shot to drive him mad.
Homelander's resolve crumbles completely under your touch, his body shuddering at the sensation of your lips on his neck. He can no longer hold back the low, shaky moans escaping his throat. He closes his eyes, unable to resist the wave of pleasure washing over him.
"Ah, f-fuck you..."
"Oh no, no no, don't say such bad words to me..."
You turn one of your kisses on his neck into a sharp bite. Interested in leaving a mark on his perfect skin. You've never stopped moving your hips, tormenting him so well. Just to get an answer. Just to feel in control. All just to assert dominance in him for a couple of minutes.
He gasps sharply, his body arching involuntarily at the unexpected sensation.
"F-fuck. Damn, don't y-you dare to stop..."
He grits his teeth, his breath coming in ragged gasps as you continue to torment him with that pleasure. He's struggling to hold onto his control, but you're driving him to the edge.
"Come on admit that I'm more than a toy for you. Or you can trust me, I'll stop on the best part."
His usual dominance is now melting away under your onslaught, you can feel it, his greedy body is already at your command, and even his proud mind is slowly getting caught in your trap of pleasure.
"You… you're more than that, ok?"
Homelander's voice is strained, his usual arrogance slowly cracking as you continue to torment him. He's frustrated, but so overwhelmed by the sensation of you moving on top of him. He looks at you with a mixture of arousal and irritation.
"You have what you wanted. Now give me what I want."
"You can do better than that, pretty boy. Give me what I want."
You've slowed down your movements, he feels the pleasure slipping away, his only way to get what he wants: is to obey you.
He lets out a frustrated groan as you slow down your movements again, denying him the release he's craving. He knows what you want, and he's clearly torn between his desire to resist and his impatient need.
"Damn it, you're really going to make me beg, aren't you?”
He grits his teeth. He hates being in this position. But the desire to satisfy his carnal desires is too strong.
"Fine. You win. You're...not a toy. You're...y-you're..."
"You're struggling baby, but you're so close. It's easy. Finish your sentence. And I'll give you what you want so badly."
You're talking with a gentle but mischievous tone, caressing his face, being caring and dominant at the same time. You move on him only when he's speaking, bringing him so close to the edge.
His body trembling under your touch. He's struggling to find the words you want to hear, and his usual arrogant composure is now replaced by pure devotion to you.
"Y-you're... something more. You're...different. I can't... I can't ignore you even if I...I want to..."
He looks at you with pleading eyes, his voice shaky as he speaks.
"Please, give me what I want. I can't stand it anymore..."
You looked at him with a satisfied smile, finally feeling that you win against him this time. You felt incredibly powerful.
"Oh, you've no idea how much knowing this makes happy. You've been so good baby. So damn good..."
Your tone is sarcastic but some sort of caring and romantic. You give him another caress, and then you decide to gave him the reward for being so obedient. You purred at his ears and started moving more faster, letting him holding you to reach his final pleasure.
He lets out a guttural moan as you begin to move faster. His eyes flutter closed, lost in the flood of sensations coursing through his body. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his ragged breaths hot against your skin.
"Oh god... please don't... don't stop. I...I can't hold it any longer..."
"Let go, release yourself. That pleasure, is all for you."
Your legs are trembling as well because of his movements under you, but this isn't the moment to flinch. You remained still and in control. Whispering lovely things to him. Like the most gentle love he ever had.
Your whispered words and comforting touch send continues shivers down his spine, adding to the already intense sensations building within him.
"I... I need... you... f-fuck..."
You gasp softly. He caught you by surprise with that last sentence, you definitely didn't expect that from him. Getting a slight emotional kick from it, his words hit your heart in an unexpected way. And you can feel a single shiver of pleasure run down your spine, stronger than the other. But you don't have much time to realize.
Homelander feels your body shudder in response, but he's too far gone to pay it much mind. He's completely lost in the moment, his mind and body consumed by the intense moment. His body shakes violently as the pleasure reaches its peak, a strangled cry escaping his lips as he finally reaches his release. His arms wrap tightly around you, holding you close against him as if you were his lifeline in the midst of the overwhelming sensations.
He buries his face in your neck once again, his body still trembling with aftershocks as he tries to catch his breath.
"...you've certainly got a knack for being… persuasive."
A calm silence hangs in the air for a brief moment, the only sound being the steady flow of the still-running water. You're immersed in thoughts, trying to understand why his previous affirmation made your heart beat, it shouldn't have happened, but his voice interrupts your flow of thought. He speaks again, while you are still gently caressing his hair.
"I don't understand how you manage to get under my skin every damn time."
He looks up to you, finding comfort and a unique form of vulnerability in your arms. Irritation and admiration running in his veins.
''...you're messing with my head. You're making me feel things... goddamn it, you're making me soft."
You remained silent until that moment, just listening to his words, not knowing what to say, but his last statement makes you laugh a little.
"Why the hell are you laughing? Hey, don't laugh at me!''
''I'm laughing because I didn't say anything at all, you're doing everything by yourself.''
Your tone has softened, and your eyes are fixed on his so unusual expressions. You're discovering parts of him you never imagined. Some of them also very ridiculous. Like the overthinking he's showing right now.
Deep down he knows that you're right — his reactions are revealing more than he probably wants to admit.
He tries to maintain his usual stern demeanor, but the corner of his mouth quirks into a smile. Can't resist a response in his usual sarcastic tone.
"Fine, go ahead and laugh it up. Just don't expect me to become all nice and mushy every time we do this."
''Don't worry, I won't tell anyone, it will be our little secret. I would never want anyone to think that the great and powerful Homelander is being put down, no matter how hot the situation is, by one of his teammates.''
You give him one last caress, resting your arms on his shoulders, showing an adorable grin on your fiery red lips, where your lipstick was still perfectly in place.
''You always have to be in control, right?''
"Damn right I do. I'm the leader here, I'm always in charge."
He rolled his eyes at your teasing, but secretly enjoyed the soft touch of your hands and the sight of your perfect lips forming that adorable grin. He tried to fight a growing smirk, but failed miserably.
"It's just that... you happen to have a way of making me... forget that."
''And you have to admit that my method is almost perfect.''
You smile, with immense charm, victorious. He could dominate the world If he only wanted to, but in this situation he couldn't fight you in any way, you make him vulnerable with just a few caresses.
''I must say... surprisingly effective."
Oh, what great power you now hold in your hands.
-------
Hope you enjoyed this as much I did! Kisses for all of you <3
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priyajoyyy · 7 months
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Tangled
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Clarisse la rue x repunzel!pesephone!fem!reader
Reader spent their entire life hidden away in a tower to protect her from the outside world wanting her for her powers, its only when a certain daughter of ares finds her scared and confused, that she finally gets to see the outside world like she always longed to.
Warnings:
Toxic parents, yandere!parents, oblivious!, Clarisse being stubborn, overprotectiveness, cannon typical violence, readers not got the best survival instincts 😭, reader is blonde, more to come maybe
Gods had a weird way of protecting people. And while you could confidently say they your parents were never intending to harm you or your siblings. They definitely went about it in weird ways.
Of course you never realised this, being locked away in a tower your entire life was all you even knew. You didn’t understand that your life wasn’t normal.
You didn’t realise you weren’t the only child your parents had hidden off in magical locations to protect them from Zeus and the dangers of the world in their own twisted ways.
And so you stayed where you were, waiting in your tower for the days that your parents would come and visit or the few creatures of the forest you had befriended came to your window.
With not much else to do but paint or read everyday in the same walls. Your hair growing and failing to ever stop, getting to the point of it being constantly in the way.
🍊☀️🪷
Clarisse was beyond confused.
She was 150% sure they had come the same way they had 100 times before. She was convinced. And yet there had never been a giant tower int he middle of the path all the other times they had taken this route.
Her brother suggested that maybe they took a wrong turning, surely they were just lost.
But Clarisse refused to acknowledge the idea she could even being wrong, no she was curtain they came the right way.
Besides they needed somewhere to camp out for the night anyway, so she took off towards the tower.
“Clarisse what are you doing?” Her brother shouted after her, the girl from the Hermes cabin turning to give him a look of annoyance.
The two followed after the girl, watching for a while as she searches around for some sort of entrance before giving up and turning back to them.
“Come on, we need to find a way up” Clarisse tells the two, not being able to find any sort of entrance other than the window near the top of the tower.
“Why?” The blonde girl asked in annoyance, “can’t we just go find somewhere to settle for the night?”
“Yeah clarisse it’s getting late, we can find our bearings in the morning” her brother added.
“This is somewhere to settle for the night” Clarisse stated plainly, rolling her eyes when the two stared at her in confusion, “it’s a giant tower in the middle of nowhere with no doors…no one’s living up there”
“I don’t know Clarisse…I mean this is meant to be a satyr trail, surely someone’s up there” the boy tried to reason.
“Aren’t you curious?” Clarisse asked, “I know we came the right way, this part of the route is blocked off, there is literally no way we got lost”
She was right, this small section of the trail was hidden away, you could only get in and out through two small entrance/exits, covered by plant life to hide it off.
They had been through the secret path a million times and never once was the tower there.
“Well how do you expect we get up?” The girl asked in defeat.
Clarisse looks around for a moment, before grabbing the bag off of her back and pulling out two daggers and holding them up to the two.
“No” the elder boy stated, to which Clarisse turned and made her way towards the walls of the tower, grabbing onto the vines to test their strength, “no no no Clarisse stop it right now”
The girl ignored him, stabbing the dagger into the wall inbetween the cracks and using both of them and the vines to begin to pull herself up the wall.
“I swear to god Clarisse get down right now!”
“I’ll see if there’s another way to get up once I’m up there” Clarisse calls down to them as they stare at her dumbstruck.
“I’m gonna kill you when you get down!” he called up to her.
“I hate your sister” the blonde said to the boy nonchalantly, collapsing to sit on the floor and wait for the ares daughter to be done you her adventure so they could get to bed.
“Tell me about it” the boy replied glaring up at her as she made her way to the top.
Clarisse made her way up, using the, surprisingly strong vines and plants growing off of the tower as her main support on the way up.
Once she made it to the window she pulled herself up on to the ledge, looking down to see her quest mates sat on the ground talking, rolling her eyes at the sight.
She quietly forced the shutters of the large window open, stepping on the flower bed as she climbed through into the room.
🍊☀️🪷
You hadn’t heard anything while Clarisse had been climbing up the walls, busy in your room painting as she entered into the main room of the tower.
Your hair was laid around the different rooms, leading through doors and hanging from ceilings in an attempt to keep it out of your way, something Clarisse stared at in confusion as she quietly wondered around the room.
She was clearly wrong about no one living in the tower, there were candles and lights lit across the room, and a fire lit int he fireplace.
The kitchen was full of food and everything was relatively clean. And not to mention the yards and yards of hair laid across the place.
That’s what confused Clarisse the most, surely no human had this much hair.
She was shocked out of her thoughts when she stepped backwards, tripped on some of said hair and fell onto the floor, alerting you in the other room.
You heard the noise and turned around quickly, your hair curling round you slightly causing it to tug, getting caught underneath Clarisse and yank on your head slightly. Making you squeak in shock.
Clarisse heard this from the other room, her eyes widening as she looking towards the doors that someone clearly resided in.
Both of you grabbed your weapons, Clarisse clutching one of her daggers, and you running to grab a vase off of a cabinet. Inching your way towards the door that separated the two of you as Clarisse stood up.
Clarisse started to walk up the stairs towards the door as you walked down the hallway, both of you stopping at the door before Clarisse decided to push through it suddenly.
You screamed as the mystery girl collapsed on top of her, hair covering your face as you flailed about, trying to get her off of you as she try’s to find the dagger that she lost on the floor.
“Get off of me” you grunted, pushing the hair out of your eyes and attempting to push her off of you, “who are you?”
Clarisse finally finding her dagger, held it to your throat, causing you to stop fighting back, breathless and staring at the weapon in her hand with wide eyes.
“Who are you?” Clarisse retorted, glaring down at the girl as if she wasn’t the one breaking and entering.
“You’re in my home” you say back in shock, frowning at how the knife gets closer to you.
“And I’m holding the dagger…see how this works?” Clarisse tells you with a smirk, flipping it in her hand as she kept it near your throat.
“I-I’m y/n…” you replied slowly, not knowing what to tell her. Looking at her with wide eyes as she huffs in realisation that it wasn’t the most helpful question to ask.
“Well why do you live here?” Clarisse asks noticing the way the girl looked confused and adding, “I mean you’re in the middle of the forest in a tower with no doors…”
“And I mean what’s going on with your hair, it’s so long” Clarisse continued, “and who uses a vase as a weapon?”
You didn’t really know what to say to any of that, looking at her blankly.
“I…don’t know” you answered eventually, adding in a small voice, “can you please get off of me”
Clarisse sighed, getting up slowly but still holding the dagger pointed towards her as she did.
“Why are you in my house?” You asked meekly, staring at the dagger in fear. Clarisse rolled her eyes noticing your wariness, putting the dagger down to her side to try calm you down.
“I’m not gonna hurt you unless you try anything ok?” Clarisse stated, “I was just looking to see if we could stay the night in here, I didn’t realised anyone lived here or anything”
“We?”
“My friends, well not really my friends but, well they’re just outside” Clarisse told you, “why are you in a tower by yourself exactly? And seriously what’s going on with your hair”
“I just live here…I don’t know what you mean” you answered, “and I guess it’s just my hair…my mum says it’s special”
“Your mum? Special how what do you mean”
“I don’t know it just is” you said, “w-wait, no, I’m not meant to tell anyone that”
Clarisses eyebrows furrowed at that, looking at you as though you were an idiot causing you to blush at her.
“Why can’t you tell anyone about your hair…” Clarisse asked.
“Mummy said not to” you said hesitantly.
Clarisse smirked at that, only seconds ago you said you couldn’t tell anyone and yet here you were continuing on with the subject.
“And mummy is?” She asked condescendingly, something you didn’t pick up on as you went to answer.
“Ummm Persephone…” you responded simply.
“What?” Clarisse asked in confusion, looking at you like you were mad. Sure, she knew you couldn’t be mortal, but a demigod?
She supposed the flowers and plants in full bloom in autumn made sense by that, it didn’t quite explain the hair but she was sure it had something to do with that.
“You’re a demigod?” She asked in confusion.
“What?” You replied, furrowing your eyebrows as you looked at her, “what’s that?”
Clarisse stared at you for a moment, you felt like she was scrutinising your entire existence as she looked you up and down.
Suddenly she grabbed your arm and pulled you towards the door, you stumbling as she continued down the stairs towards the main room of the tower and leaving you stood in the middle.
You watched her as she made her way to the window, opening it again and shouting down at her ‘friends’ she told you about earlier.
“It’s all safe” Clarisse shouted, before turning back to you, “do you have any rope?”
You looked at her in shock that she was just inviting people inside your home, speaking when she sent you a look of annoyance, “no?”
Clarisse looked around the room for a moment before settling on your hair that hung around the room, turning back to you with a new look in her eyes.
“You sure?” Clarisse asked, leaning down to pick up your hair and hold it up for you to see.
“W-what? No you can’t use my hair!” You told her, rushing forward to remove it from clarisses hands leaving you stood right in front of her.
She looked down at you with a smirk, taking the hair back, “come on, they won’t hang from it or anything, they just need something to hold for leverage to get up”
You rolled your eyes with a pout at that, looking up at her before walking towards the window, looking down at the two on the ground, who were now beyond confused at the blonde girl appearing.
You leant over to reach the walls of the tower then, Clarisse running over to hold on to you as you stumbled slightly, “be careful!”
You blushed feeling her hands on your hips, shaking yourself out of it and leaning down to touch the plants and vines attached to the stone.
Clarisse watched as the plants grew, covering the side of the wall all over and bits of vines hanging down for the two at the bottom to hold on to.
Once it was fully grown you turned back around to Clarisse, underestimating how close you both were when you did so.
You smiled up at the shocked look on her face, proud of yourself for figuring out a solution to the situation, hearing clarisses brother begin to scale up the side of the wall as you and Clarisse faced each other.
Taglist:
@slaggylemon @yourmom-25s-blog @l0veshellarcelia @asvterias @ashisabitgay
Wanna rewatch tangled now 🤩
Pretty sure this is shit but oh well
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kizzer55555 · 4 months
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Ultimate Escape Room
Sam, Danny, and Tucker are bored. Nothing seems to be a challenge anymore. Summer vacation is coming up but they can’t agree on anything . Themepark? What’s a better roller coaster than Jack driving? Scary movie? I’m sorry, nothing beats Fright Knight’s nightmare realm. Bungie jumping? Danny can fly. Then Tucker, who’s been typing on his computer, asks “what about an escape room?”. The others are about to shut the idea down because seriously? Easy. But Tucker just grins and shows them his computer screen.
“Ever heard of Arkham?”
Danny and Sam lean over to read the description and all three turn to each other and grin. 
Now, what’s the fastest way to get into Arkham?
So the chaos trio do ✨something✨ that gets them locked up in Arkham and then try to escape and they keep. You know, normal stuff for Arkham inmates. Except this trio? Keep. Getting. Out. Of. Their. Cells. So they are just passing by locked up rogues and waving at them as an army of prison guards chase after them. Sure they could get out the easy way (Aka powers) but no, this is a challenge so they have the normal rules of an escape room. Aka, you can’t break anything and an extra rule where if a guard catches you, then you can’t fight back (also, no one can get hurt). (They make fake identities and everything). So they need to go through the whole process. Figure out how to unlock cuffs. Could be learning to pick a lock with a spoon/stick/long nails. Then find the keys. Possibly having to crawl through vents to get in the warden’s office. Or making deals with prison inmates. Like, I’ll get this for you if you give me that (however they extract a promise that the rogue can’t kill anyone with whatever they help them with.) So they are in prison literally doing errands like find freeze’s weapons in exchange for him telling them the passcode to the gate or something. Or getting Waylon some meat from the cafeteria and he’ll break the lock on this movable vault that has materials to make smoke bombs they can use to distract the front guards. 
These kids are just going wild and it gets to the point where Arkham has to call the bats (like no Waylon, we won’t escape with you, we have to do it without breaking any walls!) So literally the only reason they are not escaping is because they want to do it ‘right’. But they are also aiding other rogues in their escape (at least certain ones. They aren’t helping joker no matter what he offers)
It’s driving the bats mad. They have vigilantes stationed in each hall, in multiple monitor rooms.
They aren’t even using anything clever to block the cameras. They’re using mirrors. Mirrors! Where did they even get so many handheld mirrors! 
They are running circles around the bats. The escaped rogues literally aren’t doing anything yet because they want to see how the three hellions will escape the entire bat clan. They have bets going. So there is a temporary truce.
Just imagine the conversations/interrogations the bats will have with trio, trying to figure out their master plan - because surely there's something more going on than three chaos young adults playing a game, right?
They trio each have a different story. And they are so passionate/convincing actors that no one knows which story is real. At least one of them told a sob story with legitimate tears.
Danny: (all mysterious) You shall never know our master plan….until it is too late. And just casually dropping hints that there is something greater or that the bats are playing right into their hands. Even using ridiculous scenarios like yesss the ketchup explosion in the cafeteria….We are one step further….Mwa ha ha! (Rubs his hands together)
Sam: (absolutely distraught with literal tears running down her face and ruining her mascara.) There is a terrible organization holding their parents hostage. They had been framed and forced to be in Arkham. If they don’t do exactly as they are told, their loved ones are in danger! Should we stay? Should we escape and help them!? No one will believe us and what if we make things worse? We don’t know what to do!
Tucker: (takes a long slurp of a smoothie. Where he got one? No one knows). Yeah we were bored and had nothing better to do than mess with you guys. (Sluuuuurp).
The bats are trying to figure it out. Is the black haired guy telling the truth and the other two are just manipulating them? Is it the girl and the others are only following the plot of the organization? IS THE BARET KID RIGHT AND THEY’RE JUST MESSING WITH US!? WHICH STORY IS IT!?
Under normal circumstances, Sam wouldn’t give a sob story because It’s not really her vibe. But Sam has the opportunity to pull one over on a bat. Do you honestly think she won’t take a chance to mess with them? Also, Dick is the one who is interrogating Sam.
He’s crying too by the end of the story.
Poor guy, Sam will play his heart like a fiddle. 
Also, their fake identities are Jordan for Danny. Mortica for Sam (or Macey for short) and Phineas for Tucker. The fact that they are using fake identities is the only thing they all agree on in the interview. But the bats find nothing on them and the identities are so realistic they wonder if they are even fake at all. If the three are faking fake IDs to throw them off their tail from looking deeper. Apparently their ‘parents’ having a missing persons report.
Damian is interrogating Danny. It’s just so easy to rile him up and get under his skin. It’s absolute drama in that interrogation room. 
Danny: ah yessss. Master plan.
Damian: you shall never succeed! Justice shall prevail evil scum!
And Duke is interrogating Tucker. He just…has no idea how to respond to this. He wasn’t trained for this response. Hostile, yes. Mysterious, yes. Scared, yes. Civilian, yes. Even Flirtatious! YES! But not…this. What does he do? should he take out his note cards?
Also, I’m adding a mix of home alone elements to this. They have to get past the bats somehow and it can’t be lethal. Poor Jason and Steph who are patrolling the halls fall victim to most of this.
At one point, both of them are tied up together and hanging from the ceiling. While the trio just casually walk by under them. 
It’s dental floss. Really strong dental floss.
Then the bats start taking sides. 
Jason? once he hears Sam's story, he's immediately willing to help her. He and Dick are searching for that missing person's report almost religiously.
Tim believes Danny's story. part of it is because it makes the most sense, and the other part is that he's slightly biased from becoming an evil megalomaniac in every timeline he's seen so he's subconsciously trying to stop that from happening here.
Cass believes Tucker because come on, it's Cass.
Steph is siding with Tim because her father was cluemaster so same reasons.
Bruce is trying to fact check all of them and is failing desperately.
Sam added some ‘clues’ in her interrogation and basically threw the GIW under the bus as the organization. So the bats do find a shady organization but so far no missing persons so the other bats still don’t know if what Sam is saying is true or not while Dick takes this as absolute proof and Jason feels like it doesn’t matter if she’s telling the truth at this point. It’s a corrupt organization. So he’ll still blow it up.
I think in this AU, the GIW isn’t a threat and more of an annoyance so Sam just plays them up as even worse. Like, she doesn’t say anything untrue just makes it sound worse out of context. Oh yeah, they opened fire on this random kid. (Gregory when they thought he was phantom) Oh yes, they have destroyed Danny’s house at one point. (The prank war with Vlad) Yes, the have an unhealthy obsession with dissecting people. (Even though they are too incompetent to actually catch anyone).
So again, they don’t know if Sam is telling the truth of the organization or they just used this random organization to draw their attention away from the three’s plans (as Danny implied). Possibly an enemy organization or a competitor.
I know everyone makes the GIW a big threat but I decided to change it up. They aren’t a threat but still get obliterated by a pissed off Red Hood and Nightwing.
And that’s  another reason why Sam gives the sob story. Danny and Tucker are great but they wouldn’t actually sick a crime lord on the GIW. Sam? Absolutely would. She does not care what happens to them. They tore up her garden one time with a stray shot. She wants revenge. And sure, she didn’t actually know what would happen to them after the bats find out but she still doesn’t care.
And through all of this, the rogues are sitting back and eating popcorn while Joker screams bloody murder from his cell. 
#Dpxdc#dcxdp#Kizzer55555 ideas#Sam Danny and Tucker are chaos gremlins. Correction. BORED chaos gremlins. The most frightening of all.#The GIW are not a threat but Sam still decides to mess with them.#Danny is having too much fun messing with Damian. He wants to see how far he can push the baby bat.#At one point he even sets up a scavenger hunt with ‘clues’ that makes Robin run all around Arkham convinced Danny had placed some kind of#Hidden weapon there. It was a whoopy cushion.#Poor Dick is getting played. He’s trying very hard to calm Damian down because that poor Jordan kid is just trying his best!#He has no Choice!#Jordan is now Damian’s life long nemesis.#Duke and Tucker sitting in a room. Slurping slushees…..awkward silence.#They can hear screams of rage from one room and hysterical sobbing in the other. ‘Phineas’ looks at Signal. “Sup”#The trio home alone the entire prison. Then cut the lights. Everyone is convinced they escaped again and start running around and getting#Caught in traps. Meanwhile. Sam and Tucker just broke into Danny’s cell to play Uno. It was game night! They don’t break out on game night!#By morning the entire prison is filled with shaving cream. Glitter bombs. All of the guards are caught in toilet paper like mummies or#Stuck in the vents. Steph and Tim are somehow caught in a life size Chinese finger trap made of pillowcases. Jason is knocked out by the#Ketchup bombs (curtesy of a favor from condiment king). The monitor room looks like an egg apocalypse. Damian is screaming from where#He got trapped in an empty cell. There is an ominous pole in the courtyard with a decapitated teddy bear head impaled on top.#And batman’s suit has been dyed pink.#Technically the trio COULD walk out of here at this point. But they were having game night! They weren’t even trying this time!#It doesn’t count unless they are trying! So they walked back into their cells and close it on themselves. Danny’s cell is right across from#The still locked up Robin who is glaring MURDER at him.#‘Jordan’ winks.
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dolliestfairy · 1 year
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Кᥱᥱ⍴ Y᥆ᥙ Ѕᥲ𝖿ᥱ ୨୧ ٬ ࣪ . ، ₊ ˖  ་ ݁٬ ࣪ ، ִ ۫
Jason Voorhees and Michael Myers fanfic with chubby!fem!reader ଘ(੭´ ꒫`)੭
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ཐིiཋྀ A/N : sorry for the break, i was run out of ideas and even if i had some ideas, idk which fandom should i choose so i really really conflicted about it.
ཐིiཋྀ Warning : Bullet Mark, Extreme Violence (not towards reader). reader almost getting gangr4ped (not by the slasher) kidnapping (i think..) stalking in jason part. Murdering, Massacre And yeah thats it. Reader skin color is not Announced
ʚဗီူɞ Jason Voorhees
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• first time he see you at the crystal lake with your so called companion. he see you wandering alone confused and scared only to find out later that your friend has left you alone in the crystal lake.
• he felt emphaty however. so he goes after your friend group and killed them.
• after he slaughter your friends he goes back to you. he sees you from direction where you can see him to make sure you didnt run.
• he approach very very slowly but since he's a quite heavy and big guy, his foot step is also heavy which makes you look around at the direction he's in.
• when you see him you.. stunned.. with a freezing expression only to be melt when you see jason covered his face with his big arms so you couldnt see his face and you wouldnt run away from him.
• you see blood covering him and his weapon he's carrying, so you assumed that this guy probably killed your friend which is true.
• but you also see a bullet mark on his neck and you insist him to go to the camp so you can heal him and he accept.
• after you healed his bullet mark on his neck, he ask you to hand a small book and a pen that was placed behind you. you take the book and the pen and you see he's writing something for you.
• he handed you a shattered paper with a writing that says "stay"
• you look at him after seeing the paper only to find a big dangerous male trying to not look at you. he must say that he's very thankful because his mask covered his pinkish cheeks.
• its only getting redder when he sees you nood at him. he swear on his mother thumb he would never leave you in danger like your shitty companion do.
ʚဗီူɞ Michael Myers
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• meeting you when he was still in the asylum. you were one of the nurse that were brave enough to take care of him.
• he would rather die than admitting this but he really love how soft you are. you look really fragile.
• he love but he also hate how you were so gentle with him. he love being showered with your gentle and affectionate touch but he also hate to thinks that the reason you were doing this because you thought he was weak.
• one day in the asylum, 3 men workers have a bad bad intention to you. you were trapped in a small room, it was almost midnight and its time for you to go home, but this bastard was trapped you inside and one of them start unlocking the door to get inside with you.
• you were trying to run, but those 3 men were strong as well more than you could handle. your mind start shattering when they were trying to strip you to get naked.
• you know whats about to happen. you were gonna get used by these motherfucker.
• behind them, you see Michael seeing you. you at that time was crying and michael only stood there. when one of them want to close the door and lock it, michaels hand quickly grab the mans neck and literally crush it with such an ease.
• one has down, two more left. you at that time were half naked and you see how burtal and horrifying Michael Myers can be. Michael pushed one of the mans head and threw it against the wall repeatedly until the mans face bloody. the one left trying to run but Michael quickly grabbed the mans leg and quickly throw him outside the window. you were at the 3nd floor you assumed that poor yet bastardize man was nowhere alive.
• michael look down at you and grab your waist and take you to somewhere else. somewhere far from the asylum.
• you woke up in a small room in some place you didnt know, you see Michael literally sitting beside you with his stoic expression. you were kind of terrifying seeing his expression but after you remembered what happened last night you were kind of relief.
• you grab his harsh hand softly and you look at him in the eyes and says "Thank you Michael." you see his darken eyes kind of lightened up a bit with some spark and you see his little tiny smile coming.
• you smiled at him and hug him soflty, when you two were hugging you felt your back was crushed and when you look back you see Michael big hands grabbing back at your back and you see his tensed muscles relaxing at your hugged.
• Michael, Silently promising to you that he will never let anything bad like that happen to you again. if someone dared enough to do it with you, Michael with no doubt will Disembowel them Alive. end of the story.
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kbwrites · 2 months
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TOXIC! Boyfriend Toji
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Synopsis: you’ve been dealing with toji’s antics for far too long, but can you really ever quit him??
⚝content: toxic bf! Toji x f!reader, Toji is literally the worst, nsfw, mentions of cheating, makeup sex
⚝a/n: to all the Toji apologists: SAVE YOUR BREATH. He’s toxicccc. Love it though. I hate cheating but for him I’d drop a “he knows where home is”.
⚝wc: 2k
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Toji Fushiguro.
Sorcerer Killer. Gun for Hire.
There wasn’t a job he couldn’t do, or wouldn’t take. His name whispered in the darkest corners of the underground. This last job though… went on longer than he’d expected. What was supposed to be “quick and easy” turned into three weeks of cat and mouse. Shadows and whispers, close calls and narrow escapes. Shui would be getting an earful when he saw him again.
He trudged lazily up the stairs to his shared apartment. Each step was heavy, the weight of countless sleepless nights bearing down on him. As he reached the top of the fourth-floor walk-up, a tinge of annoyance flashed upon his tired face as he saw—
All of his shit in black trash bags outside the door.
He fumbled for his key, shoving it into the lock, his irritation only grew when it didn’t turn.
You changed the locks.
Dating Toji Fushiguro for two years, you had been through a lot with him. But through all the ugly arguments, empty promises, heated breakups and subsequent make ups—you two would always find your way back to each other. The cycle as predictable as it was toxic.
He was terrible for you, at least that’s what your friends would tell you. Yet, there was something just so intoxicating about being with him. Like a drug you just couldn’t quit.
But this time, after he disappeared for three weeks, not even bothering to call or text—this was the very last straw.
You lay on the couch flipping through the channels when you heard the banging on the door.
“Hey! (Y/N) Open up!” The voice of your sorry excuse for a boyfriend boomed from the hallway. You rolled your eyes, not moving from your spot. You were done with Toji Fushiguro, finally realizing that he’d never change. You hoped he’d take the hint and leave, maybe go stay with that dumb brunette you caught him with the day after your one-year anniversary.
Instead, you only heard a series of faint metallic clicks before the doorknob turned open.
And in storms Toji, chest puffed out as he watches you nonchalantly surf the tv. His eyebrow quirks up expectantly, waiting for you to jump into his arms after being missing for a month, but instead, you just roll your eyes at him.
He strides over to you, blocking your view.
“You changed the locks.” He huffed.
“Yeah, that usually means don't come in.” Your sarcastic tone only fuels his anger. He glares as he towers over you.
“You’re actin’ like you didn’t miss me.” He chuckles. You stand up, walking away from him to the kitchen. He quickly follows behind you, leaning his muscular body against the doorframe.
“Actually? I didn’t. Three weeks of not worrying if you’d come home in a body bag. Not worrying if you were laid up with that bitch from downstairs. AND better yet not worrying about you gambling away all our money. Truly, it’s been perfect.”
Toji laughs, he fucking laughs at your comment. Only serving to irritate you even more.
“So y’er sayin’ I’m only good for givin’ you stress?” He taunts, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
“Didn’t realize you grew a brain in three weeks.” You snap back, rummaging through the fridge for a beer. You pop the cap off, taking a sip. The cool liquid providing a brief, soothing distraction.
Toji watches you from the doorframe, his eyes dark with amusement secretly loving the way you got worked up over him. He was a toxic bastard and knew it. Thriving on the chaos he caused in your life.
“Most women would be happy t’see their man.” His tone mocking.
You scoff taking another swig. “You’re not my man anymore, Toji.”
“Is that what you think?” His eyes narrow, a dangerous glint appearing as he pushes off the doorframe, striding toward you with a predatory grace. He stops mere inches away, his rough hand grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at him. His half-lidded eyes bore into yours, their intensity igniting the white-hot anger within you.
“Let. Go.” You spit, your voice trembling with barely contained fury. His grip loosens, taking a step back to look at you.
His eyes rake over your form, being away from his woman for so long wasn’t easy. And right now, dressed in a pair of shorts and tank top—you looked good enough to eat.
“I’m done, Toji,” you sigh, setting the beer bottle on the counter behind you. You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to steady your breathing.
“Y’really think I’m gonna let you go just like that? After everything we’ve been through—“
“You promised you were done with that life, Toji! And for once, for ONCE I actually believed you.” Your voice rises, your anger spilling over as you clench your fists at your sides.
“You knew who I was when you met me.” He scoffs, crossing his strong arms across his chest.
“You’re right. And I’m finished.” You storm past him, your heart pounding in your chest as you head to your bedroom. You grab his backpack and return, shoving it into his chest. He grabs hold of your wrist, his anger bubbling up to match your own.
“Bullshit. You don’t want me gone. I know you don’t.” His eyes lock onto yours, his hold firm and unyielding. You try to wriggle free but fail as he pulls you closer to him.
“It’s that little bitch Yosuke isn’t it? You wanna leave me so you can go fuck that rich asshole?”
His mind whirs with the thought of your coworker, one he’d mentioned multiple times he hated.
His jaw clenches as he pushes you against the counter, your smaller frame now trapped between the marble countertop and your ex-boyfriend’s imposing body.
“You think any of those pricks in designer clothes could handle you? That they could give you what you need?” His voice is low, a dangerous growl.
“I want you OUT Toji.” Your hands come up to his broad chest, pushing against him, but he doesn’t budge. The pain in your voice is evident. He leans in closer, chest pressed against yours. The frustration—the tension at an all-time high. This wasn’t the first heated argument or time he’s left without word, but he knew that after everything was said and done; he’d eventually come home. And now that home had been stripped of all his things. Reduced to black trash bags.
He was so angry; you were such an infuriating woman. And yet, at the same time he wanted nothing more than to be here in this moment. Seeing you so fired up, so pissed off—makes his mind go crazy. His towering figure looms over you, your bodies impossibly close, you could feel each other's heart beats pounding in sync.
And there it was. The reason why you couldn’t ever really shake the habit that was Toji Fushiguro.
He pulls you into a hungry kiss, crashing his lips into yours. The intensity is overwhelming, a mix of anger, passion, and desperation. His hands are everywhere, rough and demanding. As he hoists you up, your legs instinctively wrap around his waist as he strides toward the bedroom, each step filled with purpose.
He drops you onto the bed, the mattress bouncing from the force. His calloused hands roam your body, feeling every inch of your scorched skin. You melt into his touch, already losing your breath. He smirks at you, his emerald eyes dark with desire
“Ohhh I get it, it’s been three weeks without me huh? All you need is some dick.” Your senses are overwhelmed with him. The familiar scent of his cologne mixed with sweat and the faint hint of blood makes your head spin.
“F..fuck you Toji” You hiss as his lips attack your neck, he smiles against your skin.
“M’gettin’ to that Doll.”
He really was a toxic bastard.
His hand reaches for the hem of your shirt pulling it off you, leaving your chest exposed to him. He looks at your bare chest with hungry eyes. Toji’s head delves down, capturing your breast in his mouth. He sloppily sucks as his tongue swirls your sensitive bud. His other strong arm holding your waist as he works his mouth on you.
You breath hitches in your throat, your hands finding their way to his hair. Nails dragging against his scalp, tugging as he moans into your chest. He releases your nipple from his mouth, looking up at your panting form.
“Missed you so much doll, you have no idea..” he mumbles, setting you down on the mattress as he crawls between your legs. His fingers hook around the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down with intense force.
He growls as he finally sees your sopping wet entrance. His own length straining against his pants. If it was up to him, he’d live and die between your plush thighs.
“No one’s touched my pussy while I was gone right?” He questions lowly. A hint of possessive anger in his voice as his brain imagines that idiot from your job touching what was rightfully his. He bites down onto your inner thigh.
“No! Only you, Toji!” You whimper as he nips and sucks at the skin between your legs. He moans as he hears those delicious words leave your lips. Wasting no more time he latches onto your clit, deep moan rumbling in your core as he tastes you for the first time in weeks.
Your back arches into the bed as his skillful tongue swirls around the bundle of nerves. He mumbles against your cunt.
“M’sorry baby… so fuckin’ sorry..” As his tongue lolls out to tease your entrance. His finger rubs your clit as his tongue fucks your weeping hole bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
He thinks it’s ridiculous, absolutely laughable that you would even think you could leave him. Why would you? When he knew exactly what to do to make you come undone?
Your body shakes as you reach climax, your essence coating his tongue. He greedily laps at your cunt, slurping up every drop of your slick. He climbs on top of you, kissing you hungrily—allowing yourself to taste just how good he could make you feel from just his tongue.
Pulling away, he looks at you smirking.
“M’not done with you doll, on your hands and knees.” You only half register his words, mind still hazy from your orgasm. He flips you over, pushing your head into the pillow.
You feel the head of his aching tip rub between your folds, gathering your slick before sliding into you. You both let out breathy moans as his thick cock is sucked in by your walls.
“Ffuccckk, missed this pussy so goddamn much.” He groans as he bottoms out. You whimper into the pillow as you feel him deep in your cunt. His large hand rests on the small of your back as he pumps into you. His strokes long and hard, heavy balls slapping your clit with each thrust.
“You know thump. That little bitch thump. Can’t fuck you like I can.” He bullies your cunt, anger and jealousy behind each thrust. He gives your ass a harsh slap, you yelp as he rubs the sting away.
He mumbles and drones on as you moan into the pillow, his hips stutter as he feels your walls clenching around him.
“Yeah doll, juuusst like that.” He grips your hair, yanking you up, flush against his chiseled chest as he pounds into you. “Who’s pussy’s this mama?” He whispers into your ear, hot breath and raspy voice sending shivers down your spine.
“Your’s Tojiii!” You whine as you cum on his cock. Your mind emptied, all the stress he caused disappeared as he fucks you through your orgasm, pistoning in and out of your pussy. His arm leaves your hair, wrapping it around your neck as he roughly thrusts up once more. You feel his length twitch inside of you as he cums.
You fall back onto the mattress, Toji’s weight sinks next to you, the bed dipping under his muscular frame. You turn over to look at him, his chest rising and falling heavily, glistening with a sheen of sweat that catches the dim light of the room. His black hair is tousled and damp, sticking to his forehead, a smile etched onto his scar-laden lips. He looked so good, too good.
He pulls you against his chest, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. As he whispered lies into your ear. You knew his apologies meant nothing. That you’d probably be in the same exact position next month. He was a liar, a killer, but he was yours. Flaws and all.
“Y’still want me gone doll?”
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generalsmemories · 1 year
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hiii for your event (CONGRATS BY THE WAY!!!) I'd like to request
"hey, no crying... I thought we said we wouldn't cry" with jing yuan please and thank you
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Warmth of the living
✧ jing yuan x gn!reader
✧ prompts used: "hey, no crying... I thought we said we wouldn't cry" || 1k event
✧ content: established relationship, hurt/comfort, spoilers for xianzhou storyline, we are still stuck in the jing yuan recovery era after phantylia fight
✧ a/n: istg if this man goes into the next patch half beat up and ready to intervene i'm actually sentencing him to a house arrest cause GODDAMN. in a way this can be seen as an alt version of my other fic 48 hours tbh. i just can't imagine any other scenario where that sentence specifically is used by itself than the recent events - so sorry for the same sorta events, i'll make sure it's the last one though!
NOT BETA-READ CAUSE I LITERALLY WROTE THIS ALL IN 30 MINUTES THE MOMENT I GOT SOME MOTIVATION FOR IT HAHA
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"Lady Bailu is taking care of him as we speak, [Name]. Please excercise some patience and believe in her - she's not titled the best healer of Luofu for no reason," Fu Xuan tries to comfort as you pace back and forth at the Seat of Divine Foresight - a hand massaging her temples as she looks towards the mountains of unopened scrolls needing to be read through within the day, "... If it helps, I've also foreseen that he won't be in any immediate danger. He's fine and he's going to recover."
That diviner noticed that her assurance seemed to ease you to the point you let out a long shaky exhale before sitting down at one of the steps leading to the grand desk, combing a hand through your hair for the nth time, "You haven't rested either with helping both me and Qingzu arrange documents and various meetings with the Six Charioteers. Why don't you try to take a walk outside the Exalting Sanctum?" Fu Xuan suggests, but you merely shake your head with a chuckle.
"If I leave you'll be more overwhelmed than you already are. Qingzu is even starting to pity you, lady Fu Xuan," you start, taking a deep breath in before standing up again, "Besides, if I leave the Seat, I just know I'll go running to where he is, I don't think that would help any of us now, would it?" you say with a light-hearted chuckle.
Fu Xuan didn't comment on the fact that your voice was trembling slightly as you spoke.
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You can visit the general now. Please bring me some tuskir wraps, I'm hungry.
The message was sent as you had just placed a plate of food in front of Yanqing, almost dropping the contents entirely over the table if the young lieutenant didn't notice the grip you had on it falter and catching it in time, "Woah- [Name] I was looking forward to eating your food today! What would I do if you just suddenly do something like... that..." Yanqing's words died down when he saw your widened eyes, but a quick look at the sender of the message made him let out a relived sigh, only leaning back and picking up his chopsticks, "Why not visit the general instead of staring at your screen like that? It's not like you will be able to be able to teleport yourself to his location by doing that."
Yanqing's words made you snap out of your surprise, rushing towards the entrance, "Lock up after me! And give-"
"Mimi her food, I know! Just go!"
You knew that your worry was not needed. You knew that no matter how much you worried and that no matter how many times you wished for things to go differently that day that none of it would happen, "What happens and what has happened will inevitably stay like that no matter how much you try to alter it. And if my life can ensure that the rest of Luofu can stay safe then that is ultimately the best outcome in the long run, don't you agree, dear?" is what Jing Yuan had told you after the both of you had gone through his initial plan to handle the crisis.
You knew that he was right, which was why you bit your tongue and confirmed his plan. As the general of Luofu and as an official handling the lives of the people - you both knew that his plan, although reckless would yield the best results instead of sacrificing lives where it was not needed.
You knew.
But as you stand before him in person and get a thorough look at him you can't help but wish things had gone differently that day when he came to you with a final plan - a final play.
You wished that you had let your selfish mind overtake your logical mind for a second and beg him to come up with something else. Anything that didn't involve setting himself in danger.
But you didn't, and now you're seeing the very consequences of not doing so in front of you.
His skin is paler than usual, there's bandages wrapped around his torso, his forearms and even a few of his fingers. The usual spark in his eyes are dimmed slighty. There's an air of exhaustion around him, like he's trying his best to stay awake even though he desperately wants to sleep, but his smile is still the same.
The same reassuring, convinning and gentle smile he gives you when you greet him at the Seat of Divine Foresight, when you return home after work and he's home before you and when you run into each other on the streets of Luofu. And yet you can't find yourself to smile back, your fingers tightly twisting the material of your garments while you struggle to let out a word, a sound or anything at all to even try to match his own effort to reach out to you.
But you can't, you can't bring yourself to speak, and every time you open your mouth you can only make a tiny sound that sounds like a wheeze. But before you can try to recollect yourself, your eyes widen when Jing Yuan forces himself to sit in an upright position, snapping back to reality when you hear his quiet grunt of pain.
However you're not able to tell him to lay back down again (as Bailu had instructed he does) before he grabs a hold of your hands and pulls you into his arms with quiet coos and a low chuckle, "No crying... I thought we said we wouldn't cry over things like this?" he whispers, pulling slightly back to instead cup your cheeks, thumbs caressing the few tears that had managed to fall down from your eyes with a gentle gaze.
It tears you utterly apart how your wellbeing is still his priority than his own recovery.
"That... was a different... situation," you manage to squeeze out, bringing your hands up to rub the tears away yourself.
You didn't know when the tears began to form, nor when they began to fall.
"I know I'll lose you one day to the mara, as much as you're aware that you might lose me to it as well - and that's what we promised not to cry over! We never agreed to this sort of situation!" you croak out, trying your best to stop the tears from flowing. You know it's a silly comparison - Jing Yuan would much rather die out in the battlefield protecting the Luofu and the alliance than fall victim to the curse. You know, but your selfish self won't accept that outcome - even though you know such an outcome is the best for the general of Luofu.
"I agreed to this plan of yours, yes. I also agreed knowing that you're essentially putting your own life at risk yes, but still!" you sob, raising a closed fist to lightly beat down on his already battered body, "Knowing that you still came back safe just made every possible scenario of things that could go wrong and knowing they didn't and that you're here right now- scolding me of all things for crying in relief just makes this seem more surreal so you out of everyone can't fault me for actually crying because I was preparing a starskiff for the soul-soothing ceremony in the background for aeons sake," you rasp out, ending the whole rant with a saddened chuckle.
Jing Yuan merely laughs in return, one arm wrapping around your waist while his free hand pushes your head into his chest while gently patting your head, his body shaking with his soft chuckles when he feels your tears wet his garments again, "I'm fine dear, I just need to be in bedrest for a while. I'm not leaving anytime soon, so stop those tears, okay? You know I can't handle it when you cry," he whispers, bending his head down slightly to kiss the crown of your head softly.
"Just let me cry this one out, I don't think I've cried for a good couple of years," you murmur, burying yourself further into his chest, the arms you have wrapped around him squeezing a tiny bit - making Jing Yuan let out a small yelp of surprise from the force.
He's warm, you notice. His heart is beating and you can feel his chest rise up and down with every breath he takes. You can feel his fingers run through your head, you can hear the his nonchalant commets of his observations of the room in the commission amidst the otherwise silent room. And you can feel his whole body when he shuffles a bit to rest his back to the wall while he himself tries to squeeze you a bit tighter to reassure you.
Everything indicating that he's alive for another day.
And only after that do you finally feel like you can breathe again.
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another request that had the same scenario in it!
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mellywritesstuff · 9 months
Note
hey melly!! hope you’re doing well, can I request the male harbingers (expect that one dude 😭 and seperate) w a really weak reader (like she can’t fight for shi..) and they are always worried about her and are quite protective ..
hope this is ok .. feel free not to do this request if you’re uncomfortable!!
~mari :)
(Male) Fatui Harbingers x (weak)Fem!reader
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Character(s): Pantalone, Dottore, Tartaglia/Childe, Scaramouche
A/N: didn’t know if you wanted scara or not so I included him anyway! I haven’t written in awhile, note to however has sent a request: I’m so SRRY I’ve haven’t written them yet they’re all in my drafts just been busy!!
Warnings: not proofread, 1 suggestive section, Cussing.
Genre(s): crack, fluff
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Pantalone
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Questions life decisions. He’s constantly stressed whenever you step outside (grass is overrated) insists on going with you everywhere. For protection.
If you won’t let him go with you he’ll either force you to take a fatui agent (as a bodyguard) or just suffer in silence while you’re gone.
He’s constantly worried.
“What if she comes back hurt?”
“What if she gets kidnapped?”
Wishes he could just lock you in his basement
He worries even more since he’s a fatui harbinger. People are out to get him, and especially you. Would NEVER let you near his fellow harbingers (Dottore) for fear that they might take advantage of your weakness and snap you in half.
And they’re hot
Starts to panics when he can’t find you when in reality you’ve been 2 ft away from him, hiding. To mess with him.
He loves you and all, but can you do anything else but to put yourself in danger? Please? (He’s so tired)
Dottore
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For the love of god, stop moving, just stay with him in his lab, it only slightly reeks of death and chemicals.
An average day will just go by like:
“Dottore! Dottore! Look what I found”
“What the? Y/N put that down! It’s dangerous (it’s a rock)”
So once he dodges your rock, and you disappear he starts to panic.
“What the? Where’d you go?”
He’ll start frantically searching for you, you were right behind him.
EXTREMELY protective of you. Won’t hesitate to add another skeleton to his collection to anyone he deems a threat.
Luckily he’ll (force) a fatui agent to go with you everywhere. Or he’ll spy on you from a bush because he trusts no one, and really loves you.
Why would you want to go outside anyway? Wouldn’t you rather get railed by Dottore?
Tar-tar-Tartaglia
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Literally goes “L bozo” and tackles you.
In all seriousness he’ll teach to fight if you want! Probably not a good idea since he’ll forget your fighting skills are the equivalent of a sheet of paper, then break every bone in your body
He trusts you enough. But since he’s constantly away on missions he worries you’ll get hurt and can’t stand to be away from you.
Will purposefully challenge you to arm wrestle just to throw you off the table.
Sees you as a tiny little duck, and protects you at all costs while simultaneously bullying you.
Will go, “hey wanna go Inazuma with me? Oh wait you can’t fight….later bozo” (he’s so mean)
One day you’ll beat his ass up for all that teasing.
Scaramouche
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Another one that goes ‘L bozo’ in you form of “Skill issue”
Constantly on your back for getting yourself in dangerous situations when you follow him around.
“Are you an idiot?”
“Don’t do anything stupid…”
You’ve heard it too much, he may be a little emo boy but he just wants to keep you safe.
Wishes he could go everywhere with you, in a panicked state when you’re god (he doesn’t show it though)
Won’t teach you to fight, thinks you’re an unworthy opponent (ouch)
Sometimes he wants to cuddle and protect you and sometimes he wants to throw you off a cliff in frustration.
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Hope you enjoyed! Melly out <3
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