#this is why i became so attached to him when i was playing... its like. YO THIS guy this guy gets it (becomes obsessed) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

livingdeadgirlflorette · 4 months ago

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ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? ₊˚✩⊹ carl grimes x fem!reader

summary : After what happened a few weeks ago, seeing Carl made you anxious. Just looking at him made you ponder what was the thing you had with him. But one visit to a friend of his may just be enough to be the straw that breaks the camel's back.

word count : 4.7k

tags / rundown : average teen angst, fluff, more-than-friends-less-than-lovers trope, glenn and maggie are your substitute parents here, carl has an emotional capacity of a teaspoon, reader and carl are so oblivious oh my word, slight jealous!carl, kissing, sitting on carl's lap, brief mention of teen pregnancy

a / n : hi guys! this is a part 2 for "late night kisses", but it could be read as a stand-alone as well ! i just finished this like 2 hours ago and proofread it, i'm pretty satisfied with how this came out. i really wanted to show how angsty teenager's could be for such trivial things, and i think i showed it pretty well here >_< enjoy reading !

dividers by @cafekitsune 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

PART 1: LATE NIGHT KISSES ⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖

With Rick interrupting your whole secret rendezvous with Carl in his bedroom, and practically telling you he knows about you guys— you wonder how bad it really would be if they did find out about you and Carl.

But there was one question that gets under your skin more than anything. It makes you think if anything between the two of you was more than just what you guys were doing. What were you and Carl?

All this time it has been just Y/N and Carl, inseparable, attached to the hip best friends. Just. Friends. That's an interesting way to state the relationship between the two of you, if just friends sneak around and makeout in their bedroom, and If just friends hold eachother at night, looking into each other's eyes lovingly, never wanting it to end.

It makes you concerned also, what did Carl think about the two of you? You don't what to acknowledge it, but it makes you stomach churn thinking that Carl would think you guys were nothing more than friends that kiss one another every once in a while. Thinking about it just puts a crestfallen, depressed look on your face.

"What's got you down in the dumps for?" A voice snaps you out of your mind question of is-Carl-a-friend-or-something-more crisis, remembering where you are. You're at your dining room table, eating breakfast with Glenn and Maggie. Ever since their group came, you became close with them, subconsciously (whether you wanted to or not) growing a familial bond with them.

They told you multiple times that you were welcome to come and go— so whenever you feel like it, you come to them when you have a problem, or you just don't want to interact with other teenagers in Alexandria. They get too posh-sounding when they talk about trivial things for your liking.

"Oh its uh— y'know it's just nothing." You dismiss the brunette woman's question. Since you and Carl didn't want anybody to know about the two of you, you decided to keep it a secret. And it would be a shame for the both of you if all of that came crashing down just 'cause Maggie had asked why you looked so sad.

"Well nothing doesn't make you of all people look so depressed. Why don't you go to your little boyfriend? He always puts a smile on that face." Glenn suggests, using a teasing sound for the question. You know he's just trying to make you feel better, but the mention of Carl just makes you even more down trodden. But you quickly realize what Glenn titles him as.

With an seemingly unstoppable flush blooming on your face, you quickly try to defend yourself, trying to save face.

"He's not my boyfriend, nor am I his girlfriend. We're nothing really, just friends." You argue. Saying that makes your heart break a little, even if you don't want it to. You play with the food on your plate, seeming uninterested. You just want to curl up into a ball and let time pause for a minute. Everything is just too much right now.

"He may not be your boyfriend per se, but he sure does act like one." Glenn counters, smiling knowingly. Despite every molecule and fiber of your being wanting to defend yourself, he was right. Carl did tend to have tendencies towards you that were too close for comfort on being the role of a lover.

If you ever mentioned a food you'd been missing, or an item so specific that you'd been missing in general, he'd get it for you and act all nonchalant and dismissive when you'd ask how the hell did he get it from (but he'd never tell you how he had almost got surrounded by a herd of walkers trying to get it for you). He would put his hand, hovering ever so slightly on your back when going through a crowded group or when he's behind you.

"We're uhm— I dunno. We're something." You say, moving food around your plate, showing signs of boredom, but no amount of uninterest in your body language could mask the sad look on your face. As much as your answer was adding nothing to the conversation, what you said was sincere. What really were you two? Friends don't sneak into the other's room at night, friends don't straddle each other, and friends definitely don't lock lips with each other. It stumped you, if you were going to be honest.

"Well figure that something out with the boy, okay? It's disheartening watching the two of you walk around like sad little puppies all the time." Glenn finalizes, he finishes his plate of food and walks over to the sink. Unknowingly to him, what he had said made you perplexed. Carl was also blue? As much as it made you feel empathetic for him, it made you wonder why he was also feeling like he had his heart punched out of his chest. You thought what you were feeling was just you, but with him also feeling upset over it, it kind of made you guilty 'cause it felt good knowing that what you were feeling was mutual.

"I actually have an idea, but it's not one of my most proudest. . ." You barely let out, feeling all shy now that you realize you're gonna say it out loud. Glenn was washing his dish, but he turned his head to the side to share a look of curiousity with his wife. They both looked back at you, silently tell you to go on.

"I'm gonna talk to Mikey. He seems to know Carl well enough, and I think maybe he could help me." Without skipping a beat, Maggie had paused the spoon with food that was about to go into her mouth and Glenn paused his movements before they continued doing their actions.

You know it was a silly conclusion, but with all the mood swings you were getting from avoiding Carl, desperate times call for desperate measures. You figured you had no choice anymore, and this was the only thing you thought of. Ever since Carl and his group had been recruited by Aaron, Mikey and the other teens seemed to have grown close with him, and you concluded that maybe he'd know if Carl was acting strange and if he had maybe, possibly told him about you.

But before that ridiculous thought, you pondered if maybe Enid could help you with this debacle, but you know she wouldn't be all that comfortable sharing feelings like that, and she wasn't a person that you could talk to about it. You also knew she'd thank you for saving her from that talk about how Carl made you feel all mushy inside.

Is it a stupid and dumb idea? yes— but as you said yourself, desperate times call for desperate measures. The married couple share a uncertain look with each other, but decide silently they wouldn't press too hard about it.

"And uh, how do you think Carl would feel about that? Y'know, going behind his back and all that?" Maggie suggests, finally finishing her last spoonful before standing up to go to where Glenn is at the sink.

You also thought that while thinking of a solution, but you figured that it would be better off if Carl didn't know. What he doesn't know won't hurt him.

"I . . . I uh– actually don't plan on telling him about it, I don't think he needs to know." You're not really sure if does, also it would be a hell of a lot embarrassing knowing Carl knows that you asked one of his friends about what he thought of you.

"Well, if you're gonna do that just make sure you make it right, okay? He seems like he wouldn't be too grumpy about that, but maybe a little." Maggie tries assuring you, standing up and brushing you hair in passing.

What she says gives you a little assurance, but it doesn't outweigh the fact that you're about to lie to Carl; not by saying something but the opposite actually. Lying by omission had never felt so burdening.

"I'll try." You finish you last spoon and head to the sink. Glenn and Maggie seemed to be readying to go outside. Maybe they were going on a walk together? You're not sure.

"Good. Also don't forget to dry that plate okay? You're thinking too much. From what i've read, it's bad for pretty girls." Glenn tries to joke with you, but it doesn't really work. You thank him for that, despite all the teenage angst you're going through, he still wants to put a smile on your face. It makes you heart feel a little lighter.

"I got it, now go away. Let me wallow in my self pity while I wash the dishes." You joke back with them, both parties laughing a little. Even if you're still feeling bad, all that pep talk with them gave you a feeling of determination. You had to get to the bottom of this before it all came crashing down before you.

You look back at the couple, seeing them walk out the door hand in hand with one another, having such a caring gaze for each other. Observing them made you question you and Carl. Did you want that with him? And if you did, did he also feel the same?

Walking to Mikey's house was an interesting experience, to say the least. With a mantra of affirmations in your mind that spans to saying "everything is gonna be okay" , "don't panic, it's not a big deal" and rubbing your hands up and down your arms a dozen times you're sure you could start a fire by doing it, you finally reach Mikey's house.

It helps you realize you don't even have a plan on what to say. Really, what were you gonna say? 'Hey Mikey, I just wanted to know if Carl said anything about me? Not to dump anything on you but i've been sneaking into his room and making out with him these past few months and his father caught us 2 weeks ago and now im panicking.'?

You rethink your choices, starting to backtrack your decision. But sometimes you just have to calm down— grin and bear it for the sake of needing to get to the bottom of this, before you spiral into a fit of hysteria and isolation.

Your knocks on the door are firm but hesitant, and not long after you see your friend's familliar face. Mikey seemed surprised, and you understood why. You guys were never really that close with one another, with you choosing to hang out with Enid (cause she seemed to understand you too) and him hanging out with Carl and the other boys in the walls. It's justified that he'd be looking like a deer in headlights at the sight of you at their front door.

"Oh, you're the last person I expected to see here. Not in a bad way though, heh. Hey Y/N, you need anything?" Even with the shocked feeling he has, he seems to recover it quickly, putting on a more welcoming, friendly expression.

"Yeah actually, uh— can I come in? I need to talk to you about someone, privately." Your voice comes out meek, frazzled because you haven't really thought out how this conversation would go.

"Uh yeah sure! Come in, come in. I'll uh- I'll ask my father if he's fine with it though, he's just out back and I think he'd be fine with having you over. While i'm talking to him, make yourself at home, okay?" Mikey scrambles to get his words out, it's obvious he feels awkward. But it doesn't stop him from trying to just make it seem like two friends (that's pushing it, better word for you and him would be acquaintances) hanging out. You thank him silently for that, trying to make it seem less awkward than it actually is.

With him going out the back door, you're left to your own devices in his living room. You look around, and there doesn't seem to be anything that interesting. It just looks like any other upper-class house you'd see in Alexandria.

You try to make yourself feel home, sitting down on the couch. Moving from multiple positions on the comfortable cushions, you give up and just fiddle with your fingers. For what feels like an eternity, in his living room, Mikey and his father come in and his father greets you in passing before settling in a chair in the kitchen, busy doing something you can't really see. But before you can really think about it, Mikey comes in and sits next to you.

"I have a glimmer of an idea on why you're here, but I won't say anything unless you want me to." Mikey leans back, getting comfortable. You're confused. How would he of all people know what you were gonna tell him about? It made you feel like you should bite the bullet and ask.

"No it's okay, I wanna know." You urge him. If he did know about who you were gonna talk about, how obvious were the two of you?

"I'm guessing it's because of a certain long haired boy? Just a guess though." His words seem to say he's just guessing, but his tone says otherwise. He sounded teasingly, like he knew something you didn't.

"Shit, was it that obvious? It's just— okay let me think about it, I'm just confused. He seems like he cares about me, but he never really wanted to talk about us. Like what we were. We're something, well we were." That's all you could say before your mind went blank. Thinking about all this is making you go stupid at this point.

"Well since you both seem and look like trainwrecks, i'll talk for you." Mikey knew what you needed right now, and that was for someone to tell you just straight up what was happening.

"You and Carl aren't just friends, okay? You and him may think that, but friends don't act like that with each other and act like it's nothing." Your friend's word seem to reach to you, telling you what needed to be done.

"We're friends, right? You and me? We don't do that. That's different. You and him have something different than friends. It's more than that, Y/N. And if you can't get that through your thick head, i'm not sure how you'll end up." Mikey finishes. He thinks his words got to you, and it did. You feel grateful, really. Despite it being blunt and straightforward, you got the message he was trying to send. You know what you have to do now.

"Wow, that's— huh. Thanks for that, Mikey. It means a lot, even if you unintentionally did refer to me as a numbskull." The joke you let out lightens the mood, putting a mood on both of your expressions. You realize you're lucky to have a friend like Mikey, he's not afraid to tell you straight up when you need something said.

"So since that's out of the way, wanna play videogames? I got something you might like." Mikey suggests. Even if you weren't that close to him, he still wanted to be civil with you. Given his inquiry, you didn't think it would hurt to play videogames with him, even if it was just for an hour or two.

You follow him up the stairs, but before you could make it up halfway with him, a firm knock at the door stops the both of your movements. You look at eachother, obviously curious.

"Stay here. It's probably just my father's friend or something asking about him."

He jogs down the steps, hesitant to open it but when he does, his shoulders drop in relief.

"Oh Carl, what are you doing here? You need something?" Mikey asks. With the stairs directly in front of the door, you tilt your head to the side, to see the long-haired brunet you'd been avoiding all this time.

"I was looking for Y/N actually, have you seen her?" Carl was asking. He seemed urgent, with a frantic aura to him, but his face was controlled. Before Mikey could answer Carl had finally found you, catching your gaze. You were on the stairs, looking like a deer in headlights. How did he know you were here? But weird enough, why does he look so rushed?

Carl seemed as confused as you. Why were you with Mikey? Why were you guys alone together? And why does it look like you were just going down from his room? Too many questions and no answers was gonna send Carl into a downward spiral. All these thoughts and no conclusion. He'll have to ask you later, 'cause he's going to die surely if it eats away at him from the fact that he'll keep thinking about it. It makes him feel such an unfamilliar feeling that he hasn't felt in a while; like venom coursing in his veins and his blood piping hot, he knew it in himself that he was jealous.

"Oh she's right here actually," Mikey turns so his body's facing you slightly. "You need her right now?" Mikey's question is starting to sound a lot more like earlier, with and underlying tease and knowing look.

Carl seems to pause at the question. Mikey's simple question feels like a more complicated one to him. To explain how much he needs her, he'd have to dive into an ocean's worth deep of words he's been meaning to say. But he'd rather open that can of feelings another time, preferrably with Y/N. Right now, all he wants to do is to speak with her.

"Yea can I actually talk to her? It's important." No matter what Mikey says, either way he'll get Y/N out of that house. It's killing him inside, he doesn't know why you've been so distant lately. The variable of your presence becoming absent in his routine for the past few weeks has left him dumbfounded. He needed to know what was wrong— or else it'll destroy him.

Before Mikey could even utter a proper response, Carl pushes past him and grabs your arm firmly, but gentle enough that he doesn't hurt you. His action befuddles you. First; he looks like a headless chicken trying to find you, and second; he's dragging you out of Mikey's house hurriedly. What could be so urgent that he needed to up and pull you out?

Your heart was in your mouth, unable to say anything. What would you say even? Carl was pulling you out of Mikey's house, and to the direction of his, were you supposed to ask why? You were frazzled, but all you could think about was how careful he was holding you hand. By the time he dragged you out of the house, his hand intertwined with yours, be it a habit or reassurance to him. That simple action made your heart leap out of you chest.

With the brisk pace he was walking with, you made it to his porch in record time. To add more flush to your cheeks, you see his father, Rick at the porch steps— looking at you both knowingly. It seems like he could tell you were tongue tied, and chose not to say anything else to save you the embarrassment (he'd do it later instead).

Walking quick to his room, he pulls you in and locks the door. He turns to you, standing face to face. You want to say something, so badly. But knowing if you would, you'd open up a pandora's box worth of words you'd been meaning to say. So you start slow.

"I wanna start off with i'm sorry, okay? Listen, it's just i'm really worried about us," Carl softens his gaze and walks closer to you. "—and I don't even know what we are anymore."

He grabs your hand and aligns it with his. "What are we, Carl?" As you ask, you watch him. It's cute, watching him observe your hand difference. It's as if he's trying to stall what storm is about to come. He then close his hand, intertwining it between the gaps of yours.

"We're friends, right?" He assures, he looks so pitiful, eyes pleading with you not to let this dam of unspoken words open into a whirlwind of emotions he desperately wanted not to let out.

"Are we really?" You barely say above a whisper. Are you really just friends? With all that happened with you and him, you guys are just platonic? It makes your heart shatter thinking that.

"Carl what you do— what we do isn't just friends. I'm sorry but I can't deal with it if it's just being friends with you." Your face falters, showing a more betrayed expression.

Carl thinks he's pathetic. He swore to himself that he'd never let anyone or anything make you upset, but he never thought he would be the cause of it. It makes his eyes teary, but he'd rather get eaten alive by walkers than show you how much he's been holding in.

"I. . ." Carl hesitates. ". . . I don't want to be just friends with you." Him confessing that makes you doe-eyed, what did he mean by that?

"It's just— everyone I love always leaves." Before he can even register it, his hot tears spill out of his eyes. He's embarrassed, and looks down to hide it.

"I can't lose anybody else." Despite him looking down and his voice low, it's enough for you to hear. You felt stupid now. All this time he was trying to protect you. He felt as if he was magnet of death and chose to love and cherish you from a distance instead, no matter how much it makes his heart feel unsatisfied.

"I— I can't anymore." Carl barely says between his cries. Carl felt silly. Here he was, crying in front of the person he wanted and needed so badly just because he couldn't possibly have her. If he had to choose one word to name his state right now, it would be desperate.

But what you do next is something he never expected you would do. You use your free hand to lift his chin up and wipe away at his tears, still looking at his teary-eyed gaze. Your other hand that was holding his closes, finally reciprocating the action. And what you say next sends his heart going a hundred miles per minute.

"I'm not leaving anytime soon, okay? I care about you too much to do that."

Carl felt special. The one and only person he genuinely wants to be with feels the same, the feeling was mutual. All of it makes his heart feel like it's gonna jump out of his throat. With hesitant movement, you chastely kiss the stains that had been left from his sobbing. Everything Carl was feeling right now made him so overjoyed, it made him lethargic.

With a hesitant hand, he returns the action by caressing the side of your face, looking into your gaze before nervously asking her what he's been meaning to say all this time.

"I love you, okay? I wanna be—" He sighs before he could finish, and shuts his eyes in focus before opening them to look at you once again. He's hesitant, would him saying this ruin everything? You look to him curiously. What now?

"I wanna be your boyfriend." He concludes. All of a sudden you feel your body feel so much lighter. Him stating that made you feel so happy, wanting to jump for joy 'cause everything was going right.

Carl looked nervous, like he would break any second. It was adorable, really. Normally you would be the one doe-eyed and shy from your interactions, but now the roles reversed. You figured it wouldn't be so bad, him looking like that, eyes glassy and pitiful. You couldn't deny how even in his state, he looks so cute.

". . .Okay." You finally say as you smile. The moment you say that, it's like a switch flips with him. He still looked teary-eyed, but he looks ten times more happy. He holds you face in his free hand and asks the other question he's been dying to ask.

"That's— that's great! I- uhm, can I kiss you?" Nervous and skittish, he manages to let out a jumble of words. Even so, you vehemently nod at him.

Carl goes in slowly, trying to gauge your reaction, eyes going to your lips then to you, before he goes in completely to close the space. It feels like heaven, his lips on yours. Just like clockwork, his hands hesitate on your waist. It makes you relax, knowing no matter how many times you kiss, he'll always end up bashful. It makes you smile into the kiss.

Feeling bold, you gently push him back on the edge of his bed, making him sit while you hover on him to keep you as close to him as you need to. He looks so perfect; him sitting on the edge of his bed, looking up at you, pleading eyes begging for you to come back into his space.

With languid, calculated movements, you place yourself on one of his thighs and go back in to capture his lips with yours again. He blushes at this; with the extended amount of time you'd been apart from one another, he's gonna have to get used to you all over again and your touch.

But just like last time you saw each other, you get interrupted. You both hear a loud, firm knock, before an unnecessary amount of wriggling of the door.

You practically jump off one another, before you both come up to the door, with you slightly behind Carl.

The door unlocks and you expect to see Rick, but unexpectedly, you're met with Michonne at the entrance.

"You kids good in there? You seemed pretty silent." Michonne asks. She seemed to know what was going on, but proceeded to ask anyway.

"Yeah– uh-huh, I was just talking to her uh– Y/N." Carl quickly says. But his defense seems to make it a whole lot worse.

"Oh you're talking. All right, i'll stop buggin' ya. Enjoy your talk." Michonne looks at you, letting your already flushed face get even warmer from the implications she was trying to tell you, and then to Carl, who was trying to regulate his breathing, all while Michonne was growing a smirk on her face. She proceeds to close the door, leaving you and him to bask in the shy atmosphere that had been created.

". . .So you wanna make out some more?" You ask. You know you should be shy about it, but there's no use beating around the bush, especially when you want him to touch you so badly all over again.

"Hell yeah." Carl says before grabbing you by the waist and kissing your lips once again. Kissing you with your hands on his shoulders and his hands rubbing circles on your waist, he knows one thing for sure.

He'll never get tired of this.

BONUS ೀ⋆⑅˚

"Oh they're smooching it on alright." Michonne reports to Rick, seemingly teasing the teen pair that wasn't there to defend themselves.

He had asked her if she could go up and see what they were doing, not that he didn't trust his son and his friend or whatever she was to him, but he figured it wouldn't hurt to make a precaution. They didn't want another baby Judith situation after all.

"Ah. . . good, thanks." Rick looks back at Michonne then to the neighbourhood. He has an unreadable expression on his face. Michonne takes note of this, though.

"Trust me, with how shy Y/N is and how emotionally constipated your son is, you won't have to worry about another baby Jude in a good long while." She pats his back, reassuring him.

He silently thanks her, trying to believe what she's saying. But with how loose discipline is with the state of the world, He doesn't know how much that statement holds up when none of them know what they're like behind closed doors.

You'll never know until you find out.

oh wow, this one was a long fic, huh? I hope the wait was worth it guys, I really liked how this turned out ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و also the end bonus was just a silly little thing, i'm not sure if I would want to expand on it, it was just a throwaway line that sounded ominous and i'm a sucker for that :3 anyways ty for all of the support you've been giving me, I can't believe it honestly— I just want to thank all of you lovelies ! stay tuned and tell me if you want to be tagged next time I post !

what did you think ? don't be a silent reader and let me know ! °ʚ(´꒳`)ɞ°

tags : @carlslvr

#carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x fem!reader #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes x you #the walking dead #twd #the walking dead x reader #𓂃🖊 — florette's fics

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darkmuffinstudios · 3 months ago

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Strange train of thought but

I sometimes wonder if Killer actually sees the people around him as people. Like thinking, sentient people.

Kind of when you're in a public place, and you look at someone near you and think, "Oh wow. They have their own life and their own journey that just so happened to cross my own."

Because I'd like to think that part of the reason his SOUL became something neither human nor monster is because he adopted the POV/mentality of the PLAYER.

After enough resets (doesn't matter if its genocide, neutral, or pacifist), I wonder if Killer would start to slowly see people as the player does. The same lines of dialogue. The same reactions. The same habits, routines, everything. It becomes monotonous. It starts to feel like a dream. Like all of this isn't real, because he is outside of the loop.

That's why he can be apathetic when he cuts people down. Why he can be attached to certain characters/people if they make him happy. Why he is so hellbent on seeing how different "characters" tick. How they work, what they'd look like in this situation, how they would respond to this, etc.

He is used to predictability. He is thrilled when something different or something unexpected happens, like a person playing a video game and getting surprised by a sneak attack or change in dialogue.

There's no tangibility, nothing to ground him to this place because he already doesn't see the people as people.

When his SOUL unwinds and becomes unstable, he's like... in his body but not. He's in a weird, daydream like state where nothing is real. The disconnected feeling he feels towards his peers and enemy escalates, to the point that his own senses don't feel like his own.

The pain he feels isn't real. The people dying aren't real.

And his SOUL allows him to essentially disassociate.

Other times, his SOUL elicits horrible dread and agony. I mean, if he was daydreaming all the time, he'd forget that he was alive in the world he lived in. His actions still had consequences.

He's either feeling near nothing or every horrible thing imaginable.

#darkzyx #undertale au #undertale fandom #utmv #killer sans #utmv headcanons #this is just a weird train of thought I had one night #that never quite left me #I don't know #I mean I know he has some actual stuff going on with him canonically technically #but this ain't the canon stuff right now #still #I think this would be interesting #Over time he starts to actually see people for what they are #especially the others in the gang #hence why he fights so fiercely for them

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thehighladywrites · 1 year ago

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The Airhead Chronicles

…and the date

-> pairing: cassian x bimbo/ditzy reader

-> summary: finally the day is here, you’re going on a date with cassian!! now you just have to prepare and get ready for it. Cassian is prepared to finally ask you some questions and the mention of your secret friend rubs him the wrong way. But how does the date go, and who on earth opens the door at Cassian’s friends house?…

-> warnings: suggestive themes, nsfw, smut, super fluff, light angst, public sex, yeah, none of you care about getting caught fucking in a restaurant, oral (m.receiving) , bargain tattoos, almost oral (f.receiving), wing play, daddy kink

-> amara’s note: I think this is one of my fav things to write, I really love ditzy reader, she's so fun and cute.

part 1 part 2

Startled by a sudden knock, you quickly stood up, intrigued by the unexpected visitor. Opening the door, you were met with a smiling man.

“Hi there pretty lady, are you Y/n?” he asked. After exchanging pleasantries, he handed you a paper and a pen, insisting you sign.

Curious, you replied, “Oh, what’s this for, I’m pretty sure I didn’t order anything, or did I?” Sensing your confusion, the man stepped closer and pointed a finger at a dotted line. “Just sign here, baby. How about I come in and show you?”

Normally, you'd agree to some help because you didn’t really like reading long and confusing papers, but with your date approaching, you looked at him apologetic and declined.

“Sorry, maybe next time. I'm getting ready for a date with this really hot guy, and I have a lot of things to do. But why am I signing this?”

His face turned sour, and he threw a bouquet of flowers at you, muttering something about a special delivery before you signed. He left without saying goodbye, and you tilted your head, wondering if you said something to upset him.

The confusion quickly left your mind when you looked down, eyes wide, and heart beating faster as a huge smile spread on your lips. The bouquet was wrapped around white and pink baby breaths and peonies. You let out a shriek of happiness as you spun around and smelled the fresh, fragrant flowers. They were unlike anything else, handled with care and professionalism.

Scurrying to the kitchen, you pulled out a vase from your cabinets as you filled it with water to put your flowers in. While you fiddled with the petals, you saw a note attached as you opened it.

Reading the note, your eyes lit up with excitement. You twirled around, a broad grin on displayed, absorbing the message:

“Can’t wait to see you tonight, beautiful. I will pick you up, just be ready by 8. - Cassian.”

You halted your twirl, taking a deep breath.

Fucking Gods, you had to look absolutely stunnig, like drop-dead gorgeous. The sexiest dress was a non-negotiable, paired with a cute bag. Your hair needed to be freshly styled, and ohhh, a fresh set of nails was a must, even though it hadn't been a week since your last set.

Let’s be real, you knew you were pretty and didn’t need someone to tell you that, but it was nice to hear nonetheless, especially from Cassian. It was weird, you had known him for just over a week and already you felt a connection to him.

With your plans set, you dove into the whirlwind of preparation. The closet became a battleground of choices as you sifted through dresses, searching for the one that screamed "fuck me right now, please." The chosen outfit hung proudly on the door, awaiting its moment. A stunning sheer black dress with a v-neck, a thigh-high slit, and the best part - it sparkled.

Your hair received the full treatment of preparation and care, making you wonder how you’d display it tonight—curls, an updo, low bun or straight? The decision was as crucial as the dress itself, because what if you wanted to blow him? A ponytail would be ideal, but if you were gonna be fucked missionairy then a ponytail would be super uncomfy. Maybe just some curls then? Yes, you definitely wanted some bouncy curls resulting in you pulling out your hair rollers and pins. It was such a pain to put them on because your arms hurt from keeping them up but you didn’t care. Finally, a cute little bag accompanied the ensemble, adding that perfect touch paired with some simple heels.

The urgency for flawlessness led you to contemplate a fresh set of nails. Despite the recent pampering, the allure of perfection beckoned, and you found yourself on the way to the nail salon. After all, a week felt like an eternity when it came to looking drop-dead gorgeous.

As the appointment at the nail salon progressed, you debated between daring and classic shades. The manicurist, familiar to your frequent visits, skillfully crafted a fresh set that made you smile so hard, your face started hurting, letting out an excited sound.

With your nails perfected, you rushed home to continue the transformation, hair and makeup being the last step. Your dress clung to you like a second skin, accentuating every curve. Your reflection in the mirror confirmed your pursuit of drop-dead hotness. Smiling at yourself you adjusted your hair before putting on your jewelry, marveling at the final result. You really hoped Cassian would compliment you otherwise you’d die. His attention was so addicting and you wanted to be around him every single second for some reason.

Glancing at the clock, you realized the incoming arrival of Cassian. The butterflies in your stomach intensified as you added the finishing touches, ready to open the door to a night filled with excitement and allure.

“Hi Cassie!!” Your smile subdued a bit as you shifted nervously when he just stared at you not saying anything. Should you have worn something different? Maybe gone with the pink you wanted? Maybe he didn’t like your hair…

Cassian stood at the door, his eyes widening as he took in your stunning transformation. His brain seemed to short-circuit, and he simply stared at you with his jaw open, momentarily lost for words in the face of your breathtaking appearance. The snug fabric around your frame made blood rush to his cock, a reaction that almost tempted him to slap his own face. "Am I some kind of teenager or something, gods," he thought to himself, caught in the unexpected whirlwind of emotions your presence stirred.

“Hi sweetheart, fuck, you look absolutely breathtaking,” he managed to exclaim, a genuine smile lighting up his face. He spun you around, getting a good luck at you as your perfume filled his nose. Blushing at the compliment, you replied with a happy smile. “Thank you, Cassie. I'm so excited for tonight! Where are we going?”

He offered his arm, and you linked yours with his as you both stepped into the night, ready for the date that awaited. “Don’t worry your pretty, little head about it, it’s a surprise, sweet girl.”

Thank fuck he held you, because you could barely stand with the way your knees wobbled. The urge to just shove him in an alley and give him some life-changing head was just too strong. Cassian looked soooo freaking hot, dressed in a well-fitted suit.His hair had been put in a half bun, arms looking soooo massive, and an inexplicable desire to bite them tugged at your thoughts.

Caught in the spell of his side profile , the world around you seemed to fade into the background. Cassian’s voice became a distant hum as your eyes glued to him.

Your mind went hazy as you found yourself daydreaming about him, captivated by the allure of the moment.

Cassian halted mid-sentence in his talk about the restaurant when he noticed your silence. Curiosity painted his expression as he looked down at you, only to find you hazily looking up at him. Your plump lips were slightly parted, and your eyes were wide and sparkly, lost in a momentary enchantment.

Cassian was going to treat himself to some of Rhysands expensive liquor, it was truly something magical about his restraint. The way you looked up to him made his cock painfully hard. There was something submissive and desperate in your gaze. Before he cancelled the night and took you to his room to fuck you senseless, he broke the silence, chuckling, “I must be boring you with all this restaurant talk. What’s on your mind?”

You blinked, snapping out of the enchantment, and mumbled while feeling warm. “Um, no, not at all, Cassie. I was just… appreciating the view.”

His eyebrows lifted in playful surprise, “The view? Of me?”

You nodded with a secretive grin, “Guilty… I mean I can’t help it. You look so handsome. Now tell me about the restaurant.” The conversation resumed, but the sparkle of that moment lingered, adding an extra layer of magic to the evening.

Your brows furrowed as you read the menu. What on earth was an entrecôte? Foie gras? Was that some sort of joke? It was infuriating and you just wanted some food. Looking up at Cassian, you noticed he had already decided and was looking through the wine list. Feeling helpless, you whispered to him, “Um Cassie, I don’t know what this means. If any of this means mushrooms and cilantro, then let me know, they’re super yucky.”

He took your menu and brought your hand up to place a kiss on it, “Don’t worry, pretty girl. I’ll take care of it. How does chicken sound?” You nodded, grateful for the escape from the decision-making. Ugh, was being pretty and living too hard? You just wanted to exist without thinking about annoying things.

Cassian certainly eased it for you.

“Uh-huh, yes please,” you replied. He tilted his head, a playful smile playing on his lips. “My, what good manners you have. A good girl indeed.”

The echo of Cassian calling you a good girl sent a shiver down your spine, nearly sending you into a dreamy state. Resisting the magnetic pull of his warmth became a challenge.

Would it really hurt though? Cassian had rented out an entire section of the restaurant for your date, the only other person you’d see during the whole night was a waiter who kept away unless he was serving you food.

Unable to resist any longer, you inched toward him, lifting yourself. Cassian, sitting manspread, welcomed you onto one of his thighs. As you settled, his arm snaked behind your back, keeping you securely in place as you slung your arm over his shoulder while the other traced circles and shapes on his chest. The world outside this private bubble faded, leaving just the two of you in a cocoon of shared warmth and intimacy.

The waiter discreetly approached, and Cassian smoothly placed the order, his attention never wavering from you. The world outside this secluded moment ceased to exist. He was so content he almost forgot one of the reasons he had been so desperate to see you again. Placing a sweet kiss on your cheek and neck, he asked.

“ I’ve been wondering,” he began, his eyes holding a mixture of curiosity and concern, “ There’s not a lot a know about you, and i’d like to change that. I mean have you always lived in Velaris?” You hummed and answered cheerfully, “ No, I used to live in the Hewn City but a friend helped me move here. My family still live there but they think I live in the Day Court, since Velaris is a secret city and all.”

He observed you carefully, wondering what possible friend could’ve gotten you into Velaris without him or the inner circle knowing? Velaris wasn’t some place one just moved to, it was a secret and protected city, warded against anyone who wasn’t welcome. Your answer only made him more curious.

“Yeah, your friend helped you? Do they live here?” You giggled as you looked at him with a “duh” look.

“Of course my friend still lives here, what a silly question! We meet once a month to catch up and he sometimes brings the family to our get-togethers.”

“ How fun, sweet girl. You’ll have to introduce me to your friend, yeah?” you leaned in as his arm became a comforting weight around your waist.

“Yay, that would be so much fun! He’s like this super old guy that I work for but I promise he’s really funny and his wife is such a sweetheart, I love her.” His heart thundred at the excitement you unknowingly pushed through the bond, making him crack a huge smile. Heavens, your were so adorable, he wanted to see you smile forever. “Is he a good boss then? What is it you do for him?” Flashing him a secret smile, you leaned in conspiratorially as you started playing with the buttons of his crisp white shirt.

“I wish I could tell you Cassie, but it’s tip-top secret and I’m bound to never, ever in a million years tell a single soul. I even have this cool tattoo for it.” You whispered as if afraid anyone would hear you before pulling down the strap of your dress and showing him the bargain tattoo.

Cassian's expression froze, his mind racing to fathom the deal you might have struck. Did you grasp the consequences of Night Court's bargain tattoos? The kind of searing fucking pain that awaited anyone attempting to breach its secrecy? The instincts that come with a mating bond made him feel murdereous at the thought of anyone striking a dangerous deal with his mate.

He didn’t want you experiencing the pain of accidentally telling him about the bargain, so he dropped the subject completely, picking up new things to talk about. While waiting for the meal, you tried to attentively listen as Cassian, the general and commander of the Night Court as he had told you, told you the tales of his thrilling adventures and loving family. But he sometimes used big words that made you tilt your head in confusion, he had however noticed it early on and switched to more simple terms, ensuring your understanding of the topic.

Of all of your years living, you had never felt so safe and cared for as you did here with Cassian. Sure your parents never laid hands on you but they certainly didn’t like you very much, calling you incapable and downright stupid. It hurt you, it really did because you tried but it simply wasn’t as easy as it sounded. Cassian, this gorgeous man, noticed you didn’t understand but he didn’t outright dumb it down for you.

He… just used another word with the same meaning he explained and it really made you happy. Because for some reason, his approval and attention was necessary for you to function and you literally couldn’t imagine him ever being disappointed in you.

After dessert was served, Cassian told the waiter and the chef that you were done eating and paid the bill, leaving a generous tip. They left you all alone in your section and the seclusion made you more bold. You certainly didn’t care if anyone saw you blowing him or anything but… it felt more intimate doing in just for him. You were still sat on his thigh as he spoon fed you the delicious chocolate cake.

Chills ran down your arms upon locking eyes with Cassian, and from your position, you explored his face, fingertips tracing a scar along his eyebrow. Your hand moved over his cheekbones, jaw, nose, and finally, his flawless lips. Drawing close, you both whispered intimately, “Can I kiss you, sweetheart?” he rasped, to which you replied in a hushed tone, “Yes, please, Cassie.”

With a tender murmur he said, “my perfect girl,” his soft lips met yours.

As the kiss unfolded, time seemed to slow, encapsulating you both in a world of shared warmth and intimacy. Cassian's lips, soft against yours, the room faded away, leaving only the electric energy between you two. You had kissed plenty people before, but nothing felt as addictive and pleasurable as this.

Cassian’s body shaped perfectly against yours as he pulled you on his lap, making you straddle his hips, legs on either side of him as your dress bunched. His hair was pulled out of his bun as you dragged your manicured nails across his scalp.

He out out a groan as his hands found your hips, his hold tightening as he ground upwards making you moan at the contact.

Breaking the kiss, Cassian's eyes held a newfound tenderness and hunger. “You're something else, you know that?” he whispered, his voice carrying a mix of admiration and affection. A shared smile lingered between you, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken emotions that had just passed between your lips.

A loud shatter was heard as you looked up panting, absolutely forgetting that you two may have a section rented out, but you were still out in public and if anyone wanted to stretch their legs, they certainly wouldn’t miss you grinding in Cassian’s lap, lips puffy and hair tousled.

Cassian couldn’t have cared less even of he tried to. Being the lord of bloodshed, the general leading the armies of the night court, and one of the greatest warriors in the history of Prythian granted Cassian liberties in his eyes. Unlike ordinary fae males, he wasn't restricted from openly displaying affection for his mate at any time or place. There wasn’t a person on earth that could tell him what to do with you.

Fucking in public didn’t scare him or make him feel embarrassed. No, Cassian fucking loved the thrill of being caught. Loved the little voice in his head telling him that someone would be walking in on him pleasuring his mate, your face scrunched up in pleasure as someone catches you, your heartbeat quickening at the taboo scene.

But he’d never in his life put you in a position that made you uncomfortable, he’d rather chop his cock off. So he looked at your face, searching for any fear.

“You okay? Wanna stop, baby?” The thought of you getting off his lap and feeling shame or embarrasement was enough to make him feel nauseous. But that all quickly left when you looked down at him with blushy cheeks, a wide grin on your face as you laughed. “Wow, that sounded really close. Guess you better fuck me quickly Cassie, we wouldn’t want someone to catch us, now would we? I mean that would be soooo bad and we’d be kicked out, right?”

Cassian easily detected the false concern written all over your face. There was a blend of amusement, warmth, and hunger in your expression. You playfully pouted, furrowing your brows in mock thinking as you tilted your head.

Looking up darkly at you he flashed you a feral grin, furrowing his brow in mock thinking. “Of course. It would be very, very bad if someone caught me with my head between your legs, I mean whatever would we do?”

You stood up, hopping up on the table in front of him, propped up like a post-dessert treat with your legs spread infront of his hungry gaze.

“ Let’s find out. I think you missed some of your dessert, baby. Come eat me up, Cassie…” He put his hands around your ankles as he removed your heels, then hissed when he felt your stocking-clad foot rub against his strained cock. Your eyes caught his wings ruffling as curiosity prompted your question.

“Cassie, why are your wings so big? Can I touch them or would it hurt?”

His wings rustled, then tightened in instinct. Illyrian wings were absolutely not to be touched by anyone without invitation, they were to be protected at any cost. His people had been taught to never let anyone get close enough to them, often punching first and then asking questions if someone ever touched them.

“No, sweet girl, they wouldn’t hurt if you touched them. It’s just a sacred part of me that I as an Illyrian protect with my life.” You observed the intricate patterns on his wings, fascinated by the interplay of light and shadow, gold and read hues swirling.

Cassian, sensing your curiosity, continued, “Touching them is a privilege reserved for the one I’ll one day trust deeply, a gesture of profound connection between two mates.” His gaze held a promise, hinting at a deeper connection yet to unfold. You slumped slighty as you realized that you probably weren’t his mate and quickly lowered you rising hand.

“Oh, okay then. They seem really cool anyways, your future mate is quite lucky huh?” Your eyes met his own filled with longing and hope.

Growing up in The Hewn City, the stories of mates filled your imagination, creating a yearning for a connection forged by The Mother Herself. However, your parents swiftly dismissed any ideas of such fantasies, emphasizing a more practical approach to your future. The concept of a deep, equal partnership and lover was a cherished daydream, overshadowed by the reality your parents presented.

Amidst gossip with friends about the mysterious idea of mates, your parents insisted on abandoning these fairytales. Their focus remained fixed on preparing you for a marriage that would secure wealth and influence, mirroring the traditions of countless pairs in the city. The prospect of bringing shame to the family loomed as an unthinkable consequence, one that could lead to disownment or in some cases death.

You were incredibly fortunate to have made a friend that helped you out, otherwise you’d probably be some unhappy bride whose only task would be baby-making and keeping quiet.

Your eyes filled with tears as you started thinking about the male infront of you. If the bond hadn’t snapped for you yet, then you probably weren’t mates and it made you sick thinking that there was someone else out there who’d snatch Cassian up. A hand brushing up your calf brought you back to reality as you were met with eyes filled with worries.

“No, hey, what's going on, sweetheart? Why are you crying, hm?” Cassian asked, concern etched across his face. Overwhelmed by sadness, you slumped forward, letting out deep sobs.

"Don't think m’your mate, Cassie. I really, really wanna be with you forever, but you'll probably choose your mate if they ever come along. Also, I probably have a mate somewhere, and I feel like we shouldn't keep going because I'm falling for you, like really hard, and I really don't think I'd survive it if we ended things before they even really started.”

Your wrecked sobs made him sick with guilt. The realization that he was the cause of your tears hit hard. His hands found their way to your back, gently caressing it as he tried to provide comfort. Unable to bear it any longer, he blurted out the words before more sobs could escape,

“ I’m your mate. I felt the bond snap the first time we met, baby. I didn’t want to you to feel like you had to accept the bond or feel pressured to discover it. I wished for you to find out on your own, at your own pace. And I’m truly sorry for the pain i’ve caused you. If I had known this was something you really wanted, I would’ve told you straight away, sweet girl. I was wrong to assume and I’m deeply sorry. Please forgive me?”

Cassian’s words hung in the air, a revelation that shifted the atmosphere between you. Stunned, you looked up, eyes searching his for any sign of anger or irritation at your sudden breakdown or any deception. His gaze, however, held a sincerity that echoed in the depths of your shared connection, held a mix of pain, guilt and sadness paired with hope.

“You’re really mine? My mate?” the question was carried by your whispering voice. Cassian nodded and confirmed,

“Yes, i’m yours as you are mine.” The words triggered that golden bond, snapping the thread of life and love deep in your chest. Holding a hand to your chest, you looked at him breathing deeply.

“Mate. You’re my mate!” you shrieked and kissed all over his face, ending with a big kiss on his lips, making him laugh.

“Um, so can i now touch ‘em?” you questioned as you nodded your head in the direction of his massive wings. His back straightened and he explained,

“My wings have never been out during intimate encounters with females. It makes me feel vulnerable and I don’t like it. But for you… for you I’d pluck the stars from the night sky if you asked me. Go ahead, sweetheart but be careful they can be quite-”

He didn’t even finish his sentence when he felt your warm hands caressing the ridge of his leathery wings. Cassian twisted in his seat when you went over a certain spot. His whole body flashed with warmth, leaving a trail of goosepumps as his stomch flipped.

His face revealed delight, accompanied by low groans as your nails traced over the delicate wing. Intrigued, you inquired about the sensation. He leaned in, softly blowing air near your ear, eliciting goosebumps and a slight arch in your body.

He knew he’d come undone if you kept touching him so he picked you up, swept everything away from the table and put you on your back. Perhaps he should’ve been more quiet because when the waiter hurriedly came to check on the broken dishes, he received a savage snarl, so unlike the usually levelheaded male.

“ Get. Out.” Your mate gritted towards the poor fae. He’d make sure to leave another huge tip, but he didn’t have time to think of it now that the bond was so fresh and there was a male staring down his half naked mate. Cassian finally turned his attention to you when you grabbed his cock through his slacks.

“ c’mon mate, need you so bad, please.” you grabbed the back of his head, smashing his lips against yours as you whined and mumbled about needing his cock inside you. Any sort of foreplay was out of the question, you’d play later. You felt like you might literally die if you didn’t feel him closer to you right now.

You were consumed by an overwhelming desperation, feeling as if you'd burst out of your skin without his immediate presence. The ache for more of him intensified, a desperate longing for his touch to ravage you entirely. Tears welled in your eyes as you begged, desperate to be fucked right there, yearning to be claimed by your mate.

The desperation in your voice spurred cassian on as his hands skillfully removed his belt, pulling out his hard cock as he slid in and out, again and again and again. Rocking the table as he thrust into you hard, filling you up deliciously. Your mouths found each other in a deep kiss as you pulled his hair, earning a deep groan.

“You’re so fucking beautiful all spread out for me. My precious mate,” he mumbled against you.

“mmh, harder please- fucking me soo gooddd” You moaned. The pleasure was building up in your belly making you squirm against him “Please, daddy, let me cum.”

He halted all his movements, pulling you out of your bubble of pleasure. Why did he stop? You felt your high fizzle down as you felt tears in your eyes. “Cassie, why did you stop? I almost finished… s’not fair” you whined, crossing you arms as you looked away, feigning disbelief and anger.

You seriously hadn’t noticed what you called him? Were you fucked out already? Well, whatever. Cassian’s ego boosted immensely at the fact that you had mindlessly called him daddy.

“You’re so good for me, such a beautiful, beautiful girl. My mate makes me proud.”

His praise made you simultaneously melt against his body yet tighten around his cock as a new rush of slick gushed out of you. Bringing his one hand to your nipple while the other played with your clit, Cassian was determined to make you cum then take you home. It had to be your house because he really couldn’t promise he wouldn’t attack Rhys or Azriel if they laid their eyes on you, let alone saw your vulnerable, fucked out state.

The simultaneous pleasure made your head spin as you grabbed his arm to steady youself.

“feels..” you swallow the glob of saliva pooling on your tongue. “f-feels s’good, daddy. m’gonna cum…” His thrusts didn’t slow down as he was met by your relaxed expression - your eyes had crossed as your tongue lolled out a bit, making you drool. A few more pumps and he felt his knees wobble with intensity. You screams of pleasure were muffled by his hand as you came.

“gotta be quiet baby, lest someone catches us” groaning out the last part, Cassian pumps once, twice and finishes deep inside with as he slumps forward, head nuzzled against your neck, breathing in your intoxicating scent.

Driven by the fresh mating bond, he succumbed to a primal urge, covering your naked and relaxed form. Desperation fueled his actions, and protective instincts surged as he struggled with the dilemma of getting you home without causing harm, his every move tinged with the urgency of preserving your safety.

Wanting more, you pull him closer and wrap your legs around him. “daddy, i want more. please let’s go home because the table is kinda uncomfy n i wanna be on my bed instead.” Hands slither around you, pulling you up with as you clung to him. He drops a stack of money on the table to cover what he destroyed plus an appreciation for leaving him alone, gods know he would’ve shown no restraint if that waiter had been a little more bold.

“ s’okay cas i got this,” the whole restaurant fades into black before a cozy porch is replaced with the murmur of the restaurant. You’d winnowed home but not inside, leaving you right outside the door.

“ Sweetie, is your house warded or are you capable of winnowing inside too?” you shook your head and giggly responded,

“ mm, no, my house is protected from bad guys and only people i want can get inside. My friend fixed it for me, he’s super nice and you should totally meet him sometime.” The mention of another guy leaving your lips was enough for Cassian to make his eyes twitch but you looked so happy so he just nodded in agreement.

Opening the door, you welcomed Cassian into your cozy house. As he stepped in, his widened as his eyes roamed across the spacious hallway featuring a body-length mirror, perfect for a quick self-check before heading out, you told him. The hall led to a spacious living room with high ceilings exuding luxury, and the massive kitchen boasted pink appliances, a charming detail that seemed to define your style, he noticed.

His smile widened as he took in the cutesy and predominantly pink decor scattered throughout the house. It was a unique touch that resonated with your personality. As you guided him up the stairs, he marveled at the size of the home, realizing it was quite spacious for a single person.

Passing by several empty rooms, you finally opened the grand bedroom. The king-sized bed with frilly white sheets and an array of pink pillows dominated the space, surrounded by what seemed like an army of stuffed animals, a table adorned with the flowers he sent you this morning. Turning to the left he say your huge closet with clothes littered over the floor. You ran and closed the door behind you, leaning against it as you let out a nervous laugh, “ oh, that’s just my closet. it’s a bit messy so let’s just not look there.”

You bit your lips as your eyes squinted in the dim light. He looked so delicious and you wanted more. wanted your mate, closer. Despite being mere feet apart, an insatiable need for closeness overcame you. Closing the gap, you kissed him, reigniting the connection that began at the restaurant, determined to continue it throughout the night.

The night with your mate unfolded in a series of intimate moments, he put you in new positions and taught you pleasures you never imagined. His expertise left you in a constant state of bliss, with every moment dedicated to mutual satisfaction. You had slept for about an hour or two before going at it again when he stood up and stretched, the sight enough for you to tackle him and ride him right there on your fluffy carpet.

As dawn approached, you marveled at the fact that you had enough restraint to let him slip away and prepare breakfast. The lingering sensations and shared experiences had created a bond that extended beyond the physical, making the morning after feel like a continuation of the enchanting night. Now you laid in the protective arms of you lover, looking at him while biting your lips to keep from pouncing in him.

“If you keep staring at me like that, we won't leave the house ever,” you looked away from his gaze, blushing furiously.

“Maybe I don't wanna leave the house. I wanna be with you forever and ever, cassie” you whispered, nestling closer and kissing his cheek, a familiar gesture of affection.

He chuckled warmly, deeply and kissed you back before your broke the kiss.

“Cas, you mentioned your friends live here. Can I meet them? You spoke about them like you really, really love them,”you inquired, sensing a shift in the air as his grip tightened around you.

“Another time, sweetheart. Right now, I need you alone. I can't even think about leaving you,” he confessed, his tone carrying a protective intensity.

“Do you know much about the mating bond?” you explained that you knew it was two people fated together in a perfect match but that was all your parents allowed you to know. He nodded and explained,

“A newly mated couple can be very... let's say, unstable. There have been many cool and collected males and females who lost their minds when someone laid their eyes on their mate for too long. Sane people have abandoned all critical thinking wherever their mate is involved. Their first and only thought is their mate’s safety and happiness. People have died for provoking newly-mated. So, please, give me a little time because there's a very likely chance I might kill someone for looking at you a bit too much." This…frenzy will cool down after a while but it’s very intense when it’s so new.”

The gravity in his words conveyed the depth of his commitment and the primal instincts that fueled it.

You were fucked in the head for sure because the realization that Cassian would fiercely protect you, even kill someone for you, sent a thrilling shiver down your spine, an unconventional yet undeniably arousing form of desire.

Without a word, you shuffled down, ready to express your gratitude and desire in a way that words could never fully convey, letting your mouth and hands express your love and gratitude.

—

For almost three weeks, you reveled in the cocoon of intimacy, exploring every inch of each other's souls and bodies within the confines of your shared space. Cassian's presence became a comforting constant, and there wasn't a single room in the house that he hadn’t fucked you in. Repeatedly.

However, the inevitable reality of his responsibilities tugged at Cassian's conscience. His jaw tightened, and his eyes darkening slightly as he confessed,

“I hate to say this, baby, but I have to go back. My family is looking for me, and they're worried.”

A pout formed on your lips as the idea of him leaving weighed heavily on your heart.

“You really gotta go?” Your doe-eyes mirrored the sadness and pain of his departure, glossing over in tears at the thought of him not being by your side.

One look into your eyes and he knew there was no chance he could leave you.

“You know what, fuck that. There's no way I'm leaving you. So how would you feel about meeting my family?”

Cassian dropping the idea of meeting his family made you think. Would they like you? He always spoke highly of them, and it got you wondering if you'd measure up. You knew you weren't the brightest tool in the shed or however the saying went but you hoped they'd see something in you that's good enough for him. The old voices of your parents kept echoing in your head.

"You're only good if you keep your mouth shut."

"How did I end up with such a dumb daughter?"

"You’re prettier when you don't talk."

Cassian sensed your unease, and he gently took your hands, looking into your eyes with a reassuring smile.

“Hey, don't worry about a thing. My family will adore you as much as I do. You're more than enough, just the way you are.”

His words carried a sincerity that eased the knots in your stomach. You peppered kisses all over his face and mentally thanked him for the reassurance.

He laughed, kissing you and repeating those reassuring words until it was time to leave. Putting on a cute, blue summer dress, you skipped alongside him, blissfully unaware of the imposing aura he now exuded due to the fresh bond.

As the beautiful estate by the river came into view, you marveled at the picturesque landscape. Holding a homemade cake in one hand and Cassian's hand in the other, you both approached the door.

However, huge confusion struck as your eyes widened upon seeing who opened it.

🏷️ taglist: @justasillylittlegoofyguy

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lilasamaaa · 9 months ago

Text

Wicked games | Max Verstappen x Leclerc!Reader

Genre | Fluff, some light angst.

Word count | 1.5K.

Warnings | Some sexual innuendos, reader playfully gaslighting Max.

Summary | You love Max, you really do. But there’s just something about your brother’s teammate… as a driver, of course.

Author's note | This piece was requested! Thanks to the lovely anon who came up with the idea, I had so much fun writing it! This is shorter than what I usually write, but I wanted to keep this one light and fun :)

"Babe?" Max's voice comes from the living room. "Are you ready to go?"

This weekend, it's the iconic Monaco Grand Prix, and you're delighted not to have to take a flight and endure jet lag from the other side of the world for once. Not that you're complaining about having the privilege to travel so much, but you understand what flight attendants mean when they say that flying makes you age prematurely. Before the bustling week begins and paralyzes the entire city, you, your brother, and Max had agreed to go eat lunch at your favorite place before the boys had to attend their pre-race press conference.

"I'm almost done," you shout back, placing bobby pins in your bun, when you hear the footsteps of your boyfriend approaching until they reach the door.

"We're..." Max starts before his gaze lands on you. "Oh, no, baby. There's no way you're wearing that."

You arch an eyebrow, observing your boyfriend in the large mirror of the bathroom.

"What's wrong with my outfit?" you ask, tilting your head.

"You're not really going to wear that, are you? Not while holding my hand?" Max replies, starring at your white tennis skirt and red Ferrari polo while you let out a hearty laugh.

"I might be your girlfriend, Max Verstappen, but I'm a Ferrari fan first and foremost. You knew this when you first asked me out."

"Of course I know, baby, but there's a difference between supporting Ferrari and... walking around with their colors on the street. With me."

"Are you playing territorial right now?" you ask, putting both hands on his chest, struggling to suppress your laughter.

"If you're so set on wearing red, why don't you try something more... Discreet? Like the red dress I brought you from Miami?"

"I'm wearing the polo, Max. It'll make Charles happy. And Carlos too," you add, winking at your boyfriend before walking towards the living room.

"Huh? What's the connection with Carlos?" Max asks, following you. "Is Carlos invited to the restaurant?"

Ever since Max and you started dating, several years ago, this has been your favorite game. Never gets old. You just love mentioning the Scuderia and its drivers. It's not that he hates the team, no, after all, as Sebastian once said, everyone's a Ferrari fan. But while Max understands your attachment to the team in relation with your brothers, there's one thing he finds less understandable... Your fascination with the other driver.

"You didn't tell me Carlos was coming," Max says again, still following around while you put on your jewelry.

"I didn't think it was important," you shrug, smirking.

Let it be clear : you don't feel anything for Carlos. No attraction whatsoever. But ever since the Spaniard joined the team and became a close friend of Charles, your relationship naturally developed to the point where today, you genuinely consider Carlos as a member of your family. You've even met his own, spent holidays with them, and you've crashed at Carlos' place multiple times before. Sometimes, when you need someone to talk to and Charles and Max are too biased, too closely involved with you to provide good insight, you call Carlos. The same way the driver always comes to you when he's got girls troubles. Yes, the two of you share a beautiful, tight bond. And knowing there's no ambiguity between the two of you (Max knows it too, deep down), you love driving your boyfriend crazy by mentioning Carlos.

"What's the matter, Max?" you ask, turning around, smiling at him.

"Look, I don't say anything when you sleep on his couch, or when you spend hours on the phone with his sisters. It doesn't even bother me when you check his results, and I surely didn't say anything when you celebrated his victory in Australia while my car was giving me hell," Max continues, gesturing with his hands. "But isn't this a bit much?"

"What is?"

"You said we were going out... As a family? Like, your brother, you and me?"

"Carlos is family," you reply, playing dumb.

"You..." Max starts, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay, yeah. Whatever." your boyfriend says, throwing his hands in the air.

As Max and you arrive hand in hand in front of the restaurant where Charles and Carlos are waiting, you don't miss the look your brother gives you upon seeing you dressed in the red polo.

"You're fucking impossible," Charles mutters while kissing your cheek.

Once inside, as the four of you walk over to your table, you still see the opportunity to drive Max crazy by sitting across from Charles. Next to Carlos. Diagonally, your boyfriend watches you, eyebrows furrowed, a hint of annoyance in his eyes.

"Miami was so fun," you start, taking the menu.

"You and I must have a different definition of the word" Max says, rolling his eyes.

"Well, it's not so unpleasant to see someone else cross the finish line before you, for once," you reply teasingly.

"Like in Melbourne?" Max asks with an ironic smile.

"Like in Melbourne," you nod, winking at your boyfriend before turning your attention to the Spaniard. "You did so good, Carlos. I'll have you know that I was rooting for you from the start."

"Yeah," Charles interjects, rolling his eyes. "We know."

The table is engulfed in a heavy silence, and you enjoy yourself so much, your eyes sparkling mischievously.

"There's some tension in here, am I right?" Carlos asks after some time, looking at all three of you in turn.

"She's been bugging me about you all morning," Max replies, taking a sip of his coke. "She thinks it's funny."

"Why would you do that?" Carlos asks, looking at you, eyes wide. "You know he's going to push me off-track because of you, next time."

"You're better than them, that's all," you reply, eyes fixated on the menu in front of you. "They just can't admit it."

"Now, that's just nasty coming from my own sister," Charles says, laughing. "Take that back."

"Leave her to it," Max says to your brother, giving you a meaningful look. "She's decided to be bratty today. She knows it drives me crazy."

"We should all know less about each other," Carlos says before gesturing for the waiter to come over, while Charles tries to hide the red from his face with his menu.

The meal goes well, the false tensions easing over a succession of delicious dishes. But you're not done with your little game. Not yet. As the server clears your plates and refills your wine, you lean in towards Carlos.

"What dessert do you recommend? I'm in the mood for something sweet," you ask Carlos, fluttering your eyelashes innocently.

Across from you, your brother sighs, running a hand across his face, while Max stares at you in a way you know all too well. A look that tells you that once the two of you set foot back in your shared apartment, you're going to pay for your behavior. Big time. But for now, you don't care, leaning over Carlos' menu, your shoulders pressed together. The Spaniard is so innocent, so far from imagining that you're using him to lead your boyfriend exactly where you want him.

"Their crème brûlée is delicious," the driver replies mechanically, eyes still looming over the piece of paper.

"Crème brûlée it is, then," you reply, setting back in your chair. "I just love to make them crack," you finish, locking eyes with Max.

That's it. You're fucked. Max's usually clear eyes are dark with annoyance and desire. Feeling the heat in your lower belly, you lower your gaze, finding it hard to meet your boyfriend's eyes. You can't wait to get home, knowing that with the afternoon of interviews ahead of him, your boyfriend will have to suppress his desire until tonight, amplifying his frustration. After dessert, the four of you head to the cashier, where Max pays for everyone before leading you all outside.

Carlos gives you a quick hug before heading back to his car, promising to call you soon, knowing that the other two drivers will follow him in a few moments. Charles approaches you, and you throw yourself in his arms, pressing your nose against his neck.

"You've got to stop doing that," your brother mumbles playfully in your ear. "You're not the one who has to deal with his awful mood in the paddock afterward."

"He's just so easy to rile up," you say, as both of you let out a laugh.

Charles pinches your cheek before waving to Max and joining Carlos in his car. You find yourself facing Max and give him a radiant smile. Perfectly innocent.

"You're the worst," your boyfriend starts, crossing his arms against his chest.

"You just love me," you say, sticking out your tongue.

"I'm going to ruin you tonight," he concludes, pulling you towards him before kissing you passionately, his hands grazing your buttocks, barely covered by your short skirt. "Show you who's better than who."

"I can't wait," you mutter against his mouth, softly biting his lower lip before taking the keys from his car in the back pocket of his jeans.

"Can't wait," you repeat, watching your boyfriend walk away until he disappears into the backseat of Carlos' car.

#f1 #f1 2024 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #charles leclerc #leclerc!reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #lilasamaaa

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mirai-e-jump · 4 months ago

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Animage October 2024 Issue Kamen Rider Gavv ft. Chinen Hidekazu & Sugihara Teruaki (translations below)

Publication: September 10, 2024

The Strange Sweets Kamen Rider

The 6th Reiwa Kamen Rider is the first ever to use a sweets motif! The cast and staff talk about the behind the scenes of the birth of the new hero who fascinates us with a gap between poppin visuals and its heavy filling!!

Having passed out due to hunger, Shouma, who comes from another world, was saved by a human boy named Hiroi Hajime. Shouma was in a difficult situation when he confronts the Granute, a monster who wants to kill Hajime, but when he "sets & eats" the familiar like creatures called Gochizo in the mouth on his stomach, he transforms into Kamen Rider Gavv and crushes the Granute. This was the beginning of Shouma's battle to protect humans.

The latest entry in the Kamen Rider series, "Kamen Rider Gavv" only just started in September. Despite the poppin imagery and visuals of sweets as its motif, this is a hard and serious drama that depicts the lonely battle of a young man named Shouma, who hides a grand past and mystery behind him.

This production features Takebe Naomi-san as the Producer, Sugihara-san as the pilot Director who determines the direction of the work, Komura Junko-san as Screenwriter, and Fujita Satoshi-san as Action Director, all of whom have worked on the Kamen Rider and Super Sentai series. In particular, Sugihara-san and Komura-san are the pair that gained attention for their work in "Kaitou Sentai Lupinranger VS Keisatsu Sentai Patranger" and the fans are expressing their expectations.

The story of a fierce battle between the sweets Kamen Rider and the Granute monsters has only just begun, so don't miss a moment of the birth of a new Kamen Rider legend! _

Chinen Hidekazu (Shouma)

The first transformation born from an extreme situation

-Supported by dependable friends and the Director-

"Please tell us your impression of the Kamen Rider series."

Chinen: For me, I've admired Kamen Riders since I was a child, and I love them so much that they're the first thing that comes to mind when people ask, "Who's your hero?" I've lived my whole life dreaming of becoming a Kamen Rider, so I was really happy when I was chosen to be Shouma.

"Are there any works that you find particularly memorable?"

Chinen: It's hard to pick a single work from my generation since I'm so attached to all of them, but……I think "Kamen Rider OOO" might be the one I was particularly enthusiastic about when watching. The dialogue between Hino Eiji and Ankh was interesting, and even as a child the ending made me think, so including its theme song, it's my favorite work. Lately however, I've been super into "Kamen Rider Den-O" (laughs). I'm watching it from the perspective of learning why it became so popular, but I also like Den-O because of Satoh Takeru's (who plays Nogami Ryotaro) amazing performance in which he plays multiple different personalities.

"What kind of person do you feel Shouma is?"

Chinen: I read the script so much that it felt like I was watching myself, as I thought that Shouma was so similar to me. We're very similar in the way that we're abit out of the loop, but also curious and get into the things that interest us. I was glued to the TV when I was a child, and I'd become so engrossed when watching it, that I couldn't even listen to what my mother was saying. However, I feel like I'm far removed from him in terms of his guts and inner strength, his desire to save people even at the risk of his own life, and his ability to fight the enemy. Playing the role of Shouma gives me energy and makes me aspire to be like him.

"We think another feature of this production is that right now, Shouma doesn't have a fixed place to stay, and that he comes into contact with a variety of people wherever he goes."

Chinen: I think alot of people are curious to see what happens next, as so far in Gavv, the story continues to be dominated by Shouma's easygoingness and the fact that we don't know what he's thinking. He seems to have a connection with Sachika-san, who he met in episode 2, so what happens to them in the future is a big point to watch out for!

"Please tell us your impressions of Sachika and the person who plays her, Miyabe Nozomi-san."

Chinen: Miyabe-san is a very refined person, so when we first met at script reading, I was shocked and said, "This person's gonna be a gyaru?!" (laughs). One of the things I like about Miyabe-san is that her mannerisms show the quality of her upbringing, but the more we talked, she really started to look like a gyaru, and I felt that performing together with her was amazing. Sachika-san leaves a strong impression of being a gyaru, but on the inside, she's a stable girl who's able to understand the feelings of others. Seeing her say with a refreshing smile, "I think it's good for everyone to be happy," Shouma respects her and thinks, "She's such a wonderful person" and "I want to be like her," almost like she's the embodiment of peace. When I read the script, I always feel supported and say, "Sachika-san, thank you."

"Shouma's brother sister like relationship with her is also very interesting."

Chinen: Director Sugihara Teruaki said to me, "It's like a dog and his owner" (laughs). Still, I think that Sachika-san's all encompassing kindness, and Shouma's simple mindedness are a great combination, and we're also playing the roles with confidence.

"He's yet to interact with Shouma, but we think the role Hanto plays will also be another highlight to look forward to."

Chinen: In some ways, Hanto is also easygoing, but he's the compassionate, hot blooded type, and he too lives by carrying something on his back. I hope you'll look forward to seeing how Shouma and Hanto, who are completely different types of people, interact with each other and what they'll think of each other in their first meeting. Hino Yusuke-kun, who plays Hanto, is the mood maker who makes the set feel relaxed, which is a gap between him and Hanto, but I feel that we're similar in our passion for the production and performance, and the way we put our all into something. To me, Hino-kun is a rival but also like a reliable big brother, and we often consult with each other and visit each other's houses (laughs).

"What were your impressions of Director Sugihara, who also directed the first two episodes as the pilot Director?"

Chinen: As I had no experience in acting, Director Sugihara is a respected teacher who taught me how to perform from the ground up, including how to read the script, and he's like a father figure from Tokyo. He understands each actor's personality and gives them advice accordingly, and he's an amazing person who draws out our potential, so every time I'm on set, I feel happy to film under Director Sugihara. He's a Director I really love.

"Before filming, it seems that you and the Director practiced vocalization together."

Chinen: Yes, even before I could act, my voice wouldn't come out (laughs). I'm really grateful that he took time out of his busy schedule to watch me one on one, and it was an important turning point that led to something changing in me. I want to grow so that people will feel that I'll have changed over the coming year, and one of my goals is to give an inspiring performance that'll be recognized by Director Sugihara with, "You gave it your all."

-Aiming to be as cool as Nawata-san-

"Kamen Rider Gavv, who Shouma transforms into, has a motif based on gummies and other sweets."

Chinen: When I saw the illustration depicted in the proposal, I thought it was incredibly simple, however, my opinion changed when I saw it in person. The armor on the chest and shoulders have a gradient so that it shines beautifully when light hits it, and there's a playful gimmick where a squishy dent will form when it's pressed, so a bunch of detail has been carefully put into it. I'm now so attached to it, that I can't think of anyone else but Gavv. Personally, what I want you to pay attention to the most are the feet. The feet are actually clawed, and this slightly animal like aspect is an important element of the show, so I'd be happy if you make sure to pay attention to the feet as well.

"What's your impression of Nawata Yuya-san, Gavv's Suit Actor?"

Chinen: Nawata-san is an actor who I shape Shouma together with, and he's an indispensable person to me, as I'm able to talk to him about problems that I can't talk about with the other cast members or the Director. He also taught me about acting, like how to create the mood and how to read the script. I'm grateful to Nawata-san's action, as I think Gavv's appeal has tripled, and I feel like the show itself has also become more brilliant.

"Does that also get you enthusiastic about the post transformation dub recording?"

Chinen: That's right. The recording process is more difficult than normal acting because you have to use only your voice to express your emotions and fight scenes in accordance with the footage. In episodes 1 and 2, I had to rerecord so many times that I lost the strength in my voice, and it took twice as long as the planned time (bitter smile). As well as the performances of my seniors in the Kamen Rider series, I also studied the game "Street Fighter" based on the advice of Director Sugihara, and now I feel like I'm getting by. I'll work more diligently to make Nawata-san's performance 120% more appealing with my voice performance, and to become a Shouma who's just as cool after his transformation into Gavv.

"One of the real thrills of the Kamen Rider series are the transformation scenes, but how did you create the pose?"

Chinen: The transformation pose was decided through a discussion between myself, Action Director Fujita Satoshi, Director Sugihara, and Nawata-san. It's a movement that involves rotating your arm, but the final version, which we created after discussing the angles and timing with everyone to make sure it looked cool and appealing, is the transformation pose used in episode 2. Depending on the story, he could transform quickly, so I hope people watch the way he changes based on the situation.

"In the episodes up to this point, the action leading up to the first transformation in the first episode is a scene that can't be ignored when talking about Shouma. There was some action involving wires, and we were also impressed by his performance as he was gradually being cornered by the Granute."

Chinen: That scene was prepared weeks before the shoot, as Director Sugihara and Action Director Fujita came up with a really cool direction. The scene where Shouma is beaten was especially important to give depth to the reason for his transformation, as it took two days to film. In the end, it was in the most extreme situation I had ever experienced in my life, my performance came out unconsciously, and I was complemented with, "Your facial expressions were very good." I could've never done it on my own, the scene was made possible by the advice of Director Sugihara and Nawata-san, who worked beside me, and by all the staff members who created an environment that allowed me to concentrate on my performance.

"It makes us want to go back and pay attention to the expressions on your face. Finally, please tell us your goals throughout filming of Kamen Rider Gavv."

Chinen: I'd like to learn alot about action from Action Director Fujita, Nawata-san and everyone else on the Action Team, and I'd like to improve my acting skills. I've never been in an environment where I could spend an entire year with people who are so good at captivating others, and I don't think it'll ever happen again in the future. I hope to make full use of this experience so that in the next year, I can be an actor who can do it all, from acting to action and recording, so I'll do my best to do what's in front me!

Director Sugihara Teruaki

The vibrant world Shouma comes across

-A dark story with colorful visuals-

"When did you first hear that you'd be the pilot Director?"

Sugihara: I'm pretty sure it was around last Fall, when I was working on the drama, "Tokyo MPD: From Zero to Hero," I received a phone call from Producer Takebe Naomi-san who said, "I'd like to meet and talk with you at once." I heard from a separate matter that Takebe-san would be in charge of the next Kamen Rider, and at the time, I thought I was going to be the second Director, but when I met her, she said, "You're the pilot Director." (laughs).

"At the stage when Director Sugihara joined, how much of the content in the show was decided on?"

Sugihara: Aside from the sweets and monsters motif, we'd yet to decide on the content of the story and the personalities and relationships of the characters. In the beginning, we were a small group consisting of the Producer team's Takebe-san and Takishima Minami-san, Screenwriter Komura Junko-san, and myself. Our three parties worked out the content by sharing ideas from our respective perspectives.

"What specific ideas did Director Sugihara have in mind? Personally, we felt that the visuals of the characters, including their costumes, incorporated the Director's ideas."

Sugihara: You can assume that I'm basically in charge of visual aspects like the impression and fashion. For Shouma's fashion in particular, during the rather early stages, I'd draw an illustration and say, "How about something like this?," and I'd have them look at it while I created his character.

"Not just Shouma's clothes, but also the interior of Hapipare is rich in color, so much so that it's unusual for the Kamen Rider series."

Sugihara: I told artist Fukuzawa Katsuhiro that I wanted to make the visuals as bright and pop as much as possible. Kamen Rider Gavv itself isn't meant to be a continuation of the "ism" seen in the first generation of Kamen Rider, but it includes themes like family conflict and Shouma's sad separation from his mother, so the content is heavy. Because of this, we made the impression of the colors vivid, and were careful to not make them too dark. Moreover, being in the human world for the first time, Shouma's a kid who's impressed by everything he sees, so I was conscious of the world captured from Shouma's point of view and to use rather flashy colors. Conversely, the Granute World and Stomach Family use muted colors, or to just say it outright, they have dirty colors.

"What do you value in your expression of Shouma, the main character?"

Sugihara: I wanted to depict Shouma as a pure kid, someone who suddenly comes to the human world and finds everything he sees as fresh. On the inside, he's not much different from Hajime, who he first meets in the human world, in fact, he's much more of a child than that kid. So he ponders over what he's been told, hurt by the casual mention of "monster" and afraid of hurting others, he's unable to be together with someone else, so he leaves Hajime and Sachika and goes elsewhere. However, I didn't want to make it too dark, so it was hard to depict (laughs). While he carries a dark side, I want him to be a kid who's always smiling when he's with someone, even if he has to force himself to smile.

"This Shouma is beautifully embodied by Chinen Hidekazu-san."

Sugihara: The best thing about Chinen-kun is that he looks great on camera. That's the kind of talent an actor has. Also, the expressions on his face when he eats are really good. Even though he's eating food he usually sees all the time, he eats it like it's a delicacy, looking as if he's eating something he's never seen before and is impressed. In that sense, I think he was the right choice to play Shouma. Still, since this is roughly his first performance, he had to start from a place where he couldn't express his emotions properly, and to begin with, he couldn't even vocalize. I had Chinen-kun stand on one end of Toei's rooftop, and I stood on the opposite end and had him deliver his lines. I gave him relentless acting instruction from the very beginning (laughs). Filming started earlier than usual, so we've already shot several episodes, and I feel that he can now stand proudly in front of the camera as Shouma. With each episode his performance and facial expressions are getting better and better. I have high expectations for his growth over the next year.

-Dedicated action that make the most of the motif-

"We felt that the vibes of Gavv's everyday scenes were different from that of previous Kamen Rider series, but was there anything you were conscious of in your direction?"

Sugihara: In my mind, I had a bright, pop like feeling, but during filming, Chinen-kun……it was important to me how to capture Shouma and the human world from his point of view. I may have only been thinking, "How can I get a good shot of him?"

"In that sense, it's interesting to think that the entire production is being pulled along by Shouma and Chinen-san."

Sugihara: That's right. This is especially true for the first episode, as the story unfolds from Shouma's point of view, so I was conscious of the fact that I wanted to bring the viewers perspective as close as possible to Shouma's.

"Despite the battle scenes also having a fancy sweets motif, from the very first episode, we were taken back by the intense physical battle depicted between Gavv and the Granute."

Sugihara: I'm pretty sure it was Action Director Fujita Satoshi who put out the idea of a serious fistfight at a container warehouse, and with sword fighting in a narrow space. We specified the colors and placement of the containers, and asked the people on location to arrange them accordingly. From there, Fujita and I talked in detail about the composition of the action, and we put it together by discussing the angles while adding in our own ideas as we filmed on site.

"We heard that you and Fujita-san worked closely together to create this."

Sugihara: I also like action quite abit, so I tell Fujita various things like, "Do this sort of thing." Naturally, Fujita has alot of things he wants to do as well, so the two of us are working together to come up with ideas for action sequences and angles.

"Including Gavv's own actions, the way he fights while "eating" the Gochizo is unique."

Sugihara: It was decided in advance that the transformation items Gochizo would appear alot like that of "Pikmin" and "Minions," so I thought it'd be better to use alot of them. Because of that, when Gavv takes damage, his armor breaks and he'll eat the Gochizo one after another……we're calling it "follow up sweets," and I think it'd be interesting to keep changing sweets and repair them as he fights.

"The standard Poppingummy Form has flexible armor, while Zakuzakuchips Form's sword weapon can easily break depending on how it's used, and the use of sweets as a motif was also visually enjoyable."

Sugihara: Inspiration for the action comes from discussions that are almost like casual conversations. I thought about how things like thin baked snacks such as potato chips might be weak to side attacks (laughs). Also, unlike other Kamen Riders, we don't use bullet impacts on Gavv when we depict him being hit (mechanism that detonates gunpowder that's attached to the performer). In his setup, the armor is derived from sweets generated by his own body, so we tried to create the effect of small bead like things flying around him. During filming, we've been throwing beads into the air from the side of the camera. In that sense, it may have a new visual feel.

"What scenes from episodes 1 and 2 were particularly powerful?"

Sugihara: In terms of taking the most time, I'd say it was before the transformation in the first episode. When I was thinking about Shouma's human image, Takebe-san said, "I don't want him to be a hero who fights just because he has powers." You don't fight just because you have the power to become a Kamen Rider, there's a will to fight, and that's where the power comes in. I wanted to create an image of a hero who's able to transform into Gavv because it's Shouma. Since the time of the script meeting, we had talked about how we wanted to portray a different kind of strength from that of the everyday Shouma, who keeps going despite being beaten up by someone he can't even stand up to. On set, Chinen-kun and I worked together to find out why Shouma was feeling that way, and we worked on his facial expressions and gestures one by one, and I was quite persistent throughout filming. We were supposed to film the transformation scene in one day, but we took too long and didn't get to the transformation, so I had to apologize to the staff (laughs).

"Finally, please tell us your enthusiasm for the future."

Sugihara: Honestly, I have no idea how Kamen Rider Gavv will conclude a year from now, but I want to make a show that'll make people who watched it think, "Gavv was interesting." For this reason, I'd also like to delve deeper into Shouma and Hanto, and Sachika and the others characters, and to make each of them appealing. I'm sure that Komura-san will come up with some great developments (laughs), and for my part, I hope that I can take advantage of that, and as the pilot Director for the first time in a long time, to create images that people watching in their living rooms have never seen before.

#kamen rider gavv #kamen rider #chinen hidekazu #hidekazu chinen #shouma stomach #shouma inoue #inoue shouma #inoue shoma #my scans #my translation #animage #hanto karakida #karakida hanto #sachika amane #amane sachika #tokusatsu #toku cast #interview

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theredofoctober · 10 months ago

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MANNA- CHAPTER FOURTEEN: TRIPE

Dark!Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Dark!Will Graham AU fic

TW for eating disorders, noncon, abuse, drugging, Daddy kink, child abuse and more (check the tags)

Read after the cut

By some sense of duty, or else an undug tendril of guilt, Will volunteers himself to oversee your evening routine alone. You allow him this, being in scant possession of what slim tolerance has borne you through Hannibal’s accompaniment thus far.

Will proves himself to be far less involved than the other man would have been in his stead. He leans against a wall with the nonchalance of a prison warden as you shower blood and spend alike down the receiving drain, allows you to pad into your bedroom, towel-wrapped, to select a clean nightdress and sanitary products with his head turned nobly aside.

You cannot determine if his distance from you is through respect for your condition or some lasting dislike of you, neither of which holds entirely true.

More likely it is that he does not see you as his child, yet, nor quite with the equality of a lover.

Still, as you get into bed he cannot help but come to you, uncertain as he his of his purpose.

“Will you give me a goodnight kiss?” you ask, part in bitter jest, and part in annoyance with his indecision.

That a man can fuck and beat you in throes of black delight and still skulk about like a repentant sinner would have confounded you in the days before you became accustomed to such duality. To what end, and upon what strength the latter side subsists is now the greater puzzle, for it is this that drags its heels and restrains Will from his full devilry.

“Well?” you say, brusquely. “What are you waiting for? Dad’s permission?”

Will gives a hard laugh, one hand kneading the back of his neck.

“I admire your commitment to the part, but you don’t have to keep it up so seriously when it’s just you and me.”

“I promised I would,” you remind him. “Why can’t you? You had no issue kissing me in front of Hannibal. I don’t see why it’s a problem now.”

You see Will’s fingers go to the bridge of his nose, wanting the guard of the eyeglasses he’s neglected to wear.

“It’s not genuine,” he says, flatly. “The only reason you’re asking is to manipulate me.”

“So what?” you say. “Scared that it’ll work?”

“Not scared, no.”

“Sure you’re not.”

There is something hysterical in your tone, the cut string of a trapped and weary madness.

Will examines you, aware of the power play you’re attempting over him, intrigued by it, despite himself. Attracted, even.

His gaze is like a stone in the sun, all heat, all black, all blue.

He knows what revulsion you must push past to test him like this, still slightly high from the forced euphoria of fucking, and the drugs. You’re beyond consideration of the consequences, irrational, barely attached to the tongue and teeth that bite at the air in their ire.

Still Will hangs from your words like a pilgrim knelt before an oracle, dependent on your answer.

“Haven’t you had enough of me kissing you tonight?” he asks.

Sniffing, you turn to face his gargoyle shadow on the wall.

“So it’s a no. You’d make a really terrible father.”

“One...”

“Not my name.”

So Will says it, gently, and you roll back towards him, your heart quick and high behind a rail of bone with the thrill of his appeasement.

Your truce, the union of flesh: they’ve altered Will, for as he looks at you a second time his pupils are the chasms between worlds, wild and deep.

Kneeling up on the bed, you make a trellis of both hands through his curls and clutch him to you in an ungainly kiss. Will stumbles in the force of it, his arms spilling about your back so as not to fall upon you with all his weight.

You gasp against his lips with eagerness to take what he has taken, to fallow the rose flesh of his inner mouth, the lathe of your tongue churning. Will is too surprised to kiss you in return, but as you hitch one leg after the other upon his hips you feel the vine of him against your groin, wanting you again, as always.

You think of him fucking you now, pinning your wicked hands with the nail of his fist as he thrusts through a sheen of blood. Though you despise him still, your loins smart with interest in engineering the act rather than merely suffering it as ever before.

At last Will returns your kiss, but briefly, and with a knowing restraint before he lays you back upon the bed again.

You grasp at his face in an attempt to reclaim his lips. He pushes you lightly away.

“Hey,” he grins. “You made your point.”

“Oh?” you say, coolly. “And what is my point?”

“That I like kissing you. That I want to kiss you, whether Hannibal’s here or not.”

“Right,” you say, twisting a corner of your quilt around one finger for something to do with your hands. “But you never would have picked me. Like, if I was in one of your FBI classes. If I was your student. Would you even have noticed me?”

Will laughs again, with a startled unease, as though the notion is foreign to him.

“Starting affairs with students isn’t exactly my style. I turn up, I teach. That’s it. I don’t get personally involved. Or didn’t, till now. Letting people get close is... uncomfortable for me.”

He glances down at the bunch of quilt in your closed knuckles. Unlike the ever-tactile Dr Lecter, he makes no attempt to take it away.

“So how come you got so close to Hannibal?” you ask. “Didn’t you say you had reservations about him?”

“He saw me even when I was making an effort to turn away. He and I have commonalities I can’t ignore, and enough differences to keep me wondering who he really is. There’s a lot even I don’t know about him, and there are times I wonder what I’m doing letting him in.”

You’re on the verge of another question as Will steps sharply back from the bed.

“We can talk more tomorrow,” he says. “I’ll still be here in the morning. But if you want my thoughts about Hannibal then it’s only fair that you tell me a little about you in return. If this is going to work long-term I need to know who you are.”

Then he goes over to the light switch and closes you in behind a shutter of night.

You’re roused from the saccharine heat of your bedcovers the following morning by Will rapping on your bedroom door. His face appears in the crevice between it and the frame as though wary to trespass, the broken spell of your desperation in his eyes.

“It’s so early,” you whine, noting the bare line of sunlight beneath the curtains. “And I feel like death, thanks to you and Dad. Can’t I stay in bed?”

“Hannibal just rushed out to an emergency appointment,” says Will. “One of his patients is having some kind of crisis, so it’ll be just you and me for a while. You want coffee? I was about to make some.”

An apology, you think, something to alleviate the swaddled and perspiring misery of your comedown.

“Sure,” you say, weakly. “Black, please. Sweetener, if there is any. The low calorie version.”

Will’s brows rise.

“You think Hannibal keeps that around?”

Reflecting on the little paper sachets that had been favoured throughout high school you say, “Ha. I guess not.”

Within twenty minutes you’re sitting up against your pillows, one hand gripping a delicate, steaming cup, the other soothing your stomach through which bites the first monthly cramp.

Will takes a nearby chair, eyeing the bars on your window as though assuming your daily view through the glass.

Though you loathe him still in his unpredictable oddities, you’re keen to make closer yet the allyship you’ve struck up with him, watchful though he is of that very attempt. If he will not help you escape, then a friendship at least may fortify the sanity you fear will leave you in this quasi childhood.

Will doesn’t seek your regression quite as Hannibal does— a cantankerous teenager is as young as he perceives you, the sick girl that never grew up. This house, then, is a Neverland in reverse, a sumptuous den of brutal sex.

Closing your eyes against such thoughts, you take in your coffee, each dark mouthful a long-acquired taste. You remember forcing back cup after cup of it, trusting it over plain water in the belief that it would burn calories as you drank.

Suddenly you’re acutely nostalgic for the days spent in your childhood room, scrolling through online threads of ailing young women in a community of mutual suffering.

It occurs to you that you may never feel so entirely comprehended without judgement as you were there again. You understand Will rather more through the thought, his convergence with Hannibal a relief to so lonely a monster.

“Tell me about ‘Dad’,” you say, into the silence. “You said you would, last night. Like, who even is he? Where did he come from?”

Will blinks, stirred up from his own brooding thoughts. In the dreary daylight he has the face of a beautiful invalid, all its angles skirted in shade.

“Hannibal’s from Lithuania, originally,” he says. “He had a younger sister, Mischa. She died a long time ago. I don’t know the finer details of what happened to her. She’s the only family he’s ever talked about, and even then it’s been bare bones.”

You sit up straighter, envisioning a young girl with Hannibal’s eyes, and none of his appetite.

“Huh,” you say. “That makes a lot of sense.”

"Hannibal would disagree. He doesn’t put much stock in the past making him who he is.”

“Seems kind of a weird thing for a therapist to say. He’s always digging into mine.”

Will looks at the floor, as though distinguishing some new pattern from the grains in the carpet.

“Hannibal views himself as... separate from other people. Being that he acts outside of ethics and the law in his own profession, I’d guess that what’s between us isn’t his only secret.”

“I’ve tried to tell you,” you say, tapping your coffee cup with bitten fingertips for emphasis. “I’ve known this for so long. But since you’re going along with his games how can you even judge him for whatever horrible things he’s doing?”

“Without knowing what he has or hasn’t done,” says Will, slowly, “I can’t say that I do.”

He gets up from his seat and paces before the window, his hands gesticulating like pigeons frenzied into startled flight.

“You assume that what I’m trying to learn about Hannibal—the core of who he is—is something ugly. But that isn’t what I’m afraid of. It’s the possibility of him lying to me. I don’t know if I could forgive him for that after the bond we’ve made. After what he encouraged me start with you.”

“You shouldn’t trust him,” you say, urgently. “Don’t. You don’t need him.”

Scoffing, Will says, “Jack seems to think I do. Alana— she’s convinced I’m one nudge away from disappearing so far into a case that I kill someone without even knowing it. Hannibal's the only one that doesn’t think of me as broken.”

You consider informing him of his suspected encephalitis, that Hannibal surely withholds this truth and more so as to keep his favour.

In the end you retain your silence; better that Will discovers the manipulation alone and behold how he has been misled upon this trail of darkness.

“Enough about me,” says Will, abruptly. “I know that someone hurt you, long before Hannibal. Before me. Someone you've never forgotten.”

Alarmed by the twist in conversation, you stammer, “I— I already told him some of it. I said I didn’t remember. But I was lying about that. I just don’t know if it was only one, long night, or it happened other times. I don’t know which is worse.”

You pause, slightly breathless. Like a portent from the white lips of some phantom you know that you must tell Will the truth, adhere him to your weeping heart with empathy for you.

“I was just a little kid,” you say. “And he was an adult. Nearly family— I used to call him Uncle Lee. Hannibal probably told you that. Anyway, I got my ‘wrong’ feeling about him way before he did what he did. Like I knew it was coming. Then he came into my room alone one night and... it happened.”

You put down your coffee cup, almost knocking it from the bedside table with the shaking of your hand. Will comes away from the window at once, dragging his chair to your bedside to listen. He neither speaks nor looks into your eyes, aware that you can bear neither without faltering.

“He touched me,” you say, “and the whole time I couldn’t even face him. I don’t even remember what I felt. Maybe I didn’t feel anything at all. Just stared at the ceiling or whatever. He did stuff to me that changed me forever. I felt like a tiny old person in a kid’s body, after that, knowing about things I wasn’t supposed to know.

“And the worst of it was still having to see him after. My parents— I tried to tell them, but I couldn’t get the words out. They just thought I didn’t like him. So he came back to the house, now and then. Never saw any consequences.

“I’ve always wondered if I was the only one, or if there were others. He was a plumber, or something; he could have access to people’s daughters anytime he wanted. Just walk into their room and... you know. I think maybe he did do that, a couple of times. Who knows.”

Your restless fingers pick at the gold embroidery on your bedspread, working it loose from the velvet. One of Will’s hands folds over yours, gently holding them still.

“What I always think about is how he treated me, afterwards,” you say. “I tried avoiding him, but it didn’t always work. One day he cornered me at the top of the stairs— my parents were in the kitchen, so it was just me and him.

“I must have been maybe twelve or so. Not far off thirteen. My body was changing. I was growing up. He said, ‘you’re getting a little chubby, you know. You ought to do something about that before you look like your mother.’

“Then he smiled at me, and just walked into the bathroom like there was nothing wrong with what had just come out of his mouth, or what he’d done to me all those years ago.”

Inhaling an unsteady breath, you try, with dubious success, to smile.

“So now you get why I’m like this. And knowing it wasn’t my fault, that Leland Frost is just a predator... it doesn’t fix anything. Like, where do I go from there?”

“He injured you,” says Will, softly. “And it may never stop hurting. But you can recover. No matter what you believe, it is possible. His shallow cruelty is not your compass. You don’t have to live on the basis of an insult.”

Scowling, you pull away from Will, trapping your hands under your armpits.

“How can I change when I’m reliving what I went through every day? Why does Hannibal think this’ll heal me? Why do you? Oh, yeah. You don’t.”

“I want it to,” says Will.

You snort dismissively.

“Yeah, yeah. Not so long ago you would have punched the air to see the back of me. You don’t want to share Hannibal with anybody.”

Will leans back in his seat, arms folded; it takes a moment for you to register that he is, by some subconscious impulse, copying your posture.

“I’m not sharing Hannibal with you,” says Will. “I’m sharing you with him. And I want to do that. You knew it before I did.”

His gaze snaps to yours, more arresting than his hands on you had been.

“You’re more like me than I cared to admit. Hannibal was right about that. And though everything about you should repulse his sensibilities he finds you adorable. You clearly don’t appreciate it, but there it is.”

You yearn to deny him, to condemn this speech as sophistry, but you are silent, as much a congregant to him as he has been to you.

“Leland Frost tore you down because he saw that you were growing up and away from him,” says Will. “He knew that one day you’d have a life, and achievements, and people that really cared about you. He was going to fade out of your world, and he couldn’t stand not leaving a mark.”

“I just don’t get it,” you whisper. “He loved me. Why did he do it?”

Will shifts his chair even closer to the bed so as to lean into you, his expression tender, tragic, sombre with a father’s sympathy.

“Leland never loved you, and that’s no reflection on you or your worth. It makes him weak, that he could throw away the relationship he had with you over an urge.”

You don’t have the strength to rage against the whited sepulchre in Will, not when he speaks the truth you’ve always yearned to hear from another. Pain winds through your body, throat to gut, great, twisting pulses, as though eviscerated on a blade of past.

What advice would Will give for you to survive what he and Hannibal have done, and will do?

Nothing. Not a word. He knows that the structure of the home, even comfort from those that afflict you has changed you in so short a time. Your desperation to be gone from him he senses, too, and with it your lust to be loved.

Will holds your hand for a long time before he speaks again, on another subject quite as dreary as the last.

“When you said it’d been years since you...”

“Since I last had my period?” you ask, touching your stomach through the sheets. “Yeah. It has been.”

Your body, the betrayer, making a scarlet banner of your betterment through cruelty.

“I never wanted it to come back. Having it again means I’m not as sick anymore, and that’s like... messing up for me.”

Will's head tilts, his face carved up by the shadows thrown from your barred window into a lattice of snow.

“Failing to die is barely a failure at all,” he comments.

You shrug yourself further under your bedcovers.

“It is if what’s happening to you is something worse,”

“Is it always so bad, being here with us?”

Will’s hand rises. Doesn’t quite touch your face. You turn your head away, but not cruelly; he’s not a bad man, you decide, only contorted so utterly from the ways of his fellows that he is some creature other, or from before, the flint-armed hunter of the caves.

And like such a creature, he seeks your answering affection for want of some warmth in the dark beginning of the earth.

You allow him to kiss your forehead, clumsily, inclined towards him as though you were not both aware of the fiction that allows this contact.

He can only guess how far you’d run from this, had you your chance. How readily you’d betray him.

You’re much recovered by the time Dr Lecter returns, having been hydrated and energised by a selection of unnamed supplements Will had you take with lunch; there is a cure for every ailment in the makeshift laboratory of the kitchen, it seems.

Hannibal discovers you at your usual perch of the parlour couch, writing in your journal with a blanket tucked loosely around you against the October cool.

Will stands to greet his companion, setting aside a book you’d offered him from your shelf to peruse, its cover depicting the bloody half-brain of the sun on a desert horizon.

“I didn’t expect our charge to be in such high spirits,” says Hannibal, with unmasked surprise. “Thank you for caring for her this morning, Will. I’m aware that whatever time you can spare for us in the midst of an investigation is very precious.”

Likely aware of your eyes on him, Will says, “I’m glad I stayed. I appreciated the company. How’s the other patient?”

“Suitably quieted. I doubt that I’ll be called away again on her behalf. Still, I made the most of the journey home.”

Hannibal reaches into a shopping bag looped over one arm and produces from it a wrapped package of fresh meat, marbling the paper with blood.

Grimacing, you say, “Ew. What is that? Looks like an organ.”

“It is. I’ll be making trippa alla romana tonight. It’s an Italian dish made from cow stomach. Don’t turn your nose up till you’ve tried it. Have I served anything to you yet that you haven’t enjoyed?”

After dinner, all three of the household recline, full and talking lazily before the fire. Had your company been any other than your abusers you would almost be content, for having been allowed to leave the table after a valiant half plate you are not so guilt-soaked as you’d have been had you finished it all.

You had, in fact, disliked the meal, a first in Hannibal’s house. The thought of the organ, plucked from the rib of a butcher’s shelf, had struck bile to the back of your mouth from the first bite.

A cup of chocolate, warmed to a froth and unadorned with cream is set in your hands instead, which you drink in feline licks to make it last.

Will’s phone shrills abruptly in his pocket. Frowning, he glances at the lighted oblong of its screen and starts at a familiar name.

“It’s Jack,” he says. “I’d better take this.”

He promptly exits the room, speaking with clipped tones into the device.

Alone with Hannibal, you become acutely aware of him looking at you, not quite with suspicion, but not so far from that.

"I see that you and Will are becoming close,” he says, at last. “I’m glad to see it.”

Humming vaguely, you snatch up the journal again and weave your pen about in a pretence of writing.

Hannibal says, "Still, it saddens me that—for all your pretty words of promise—you display a lesser willingness to befriend me.”

You do not answer, pressing your pen so hard against a page that it blots through to the other side.

"Put your journal down a moment, Little One,” says Hannibal. “I’m speaking to you."

Without looking up, you answer, "I don't know what you want me to say."

"You needn't say anything at all. It's your behaviour I wish to change."

In a flounce of irritation you throw the journal upon the floor, its spine creasing.

“I do what you say, and I don't fight you anymore,” you say. “Isn't that daughterly enough?"

"For the purposes of your treatment,” says Hannibal, “it is not. You remain closed to me, parted only by narcotic aid. I'd prefer you to open to me of your own volition. With Will, you prove yourself increasingly capable of that.

“I’ve given you all you’ve asked for, and more, and yet you show little gratitude. I wouldn’t wish to remove these luxuries for you to appreciate my endeavours.”

You look at him, then, this man both jealous and performing jealousy to groom you into his concubine, and in looking see that he will deconstruct your room into the barest cell, should he not have his way.

"I do appreciate what you’ve given me," you hastily protest. "I do, Daddy. You don’t have to take anything away. But I— I just don’t know you the way I know Will.”

“But you do,” says Hannibal, rising to sit beside you, a dangerous proximity. “That’s why you are so afraid of me, is it not?”

You begin to object, trailing off at the sound of approaching footfalls as the younger of your captors returns, listing in the churning swell of stress.

“It's the investigation,” says Will. “Another doll’s been found. Savannah Belmont. It’s too soon to be the Lover’s kill. He has a cool off point between each abduction.”

Hannibal straightens in his seat, rapidly alert.

“A copycat, then.”

Will nods, his throat tightening. His eyes touch your face briefly, and you offer him a small, close-lipped smile, an extension of comfort from across the room. His shoulders drop from their rigid line, and when he speaks again the frantic note in his voice is tempered slightly.

“Definitely a copycat,” he says. “The Lover disposes of the dolls by throwing them into rivers like garbage. No attempt to lay them to rest. Savannah was put on display, placed in a chair on a dirt bank as though she was waiting to be found.

“Both killers meant to degrade their victims, but only the copycat’s is implied to understand and accept that humiliation. Savannah Belmont died aware of her inferiority in the eyes of her murderer.”

You find yourself sitting on your hands to prevent them from betraying your agitation with their unsteadiness. Your leg, however, you cannot control, the right foot gyring an inch above the floor.

Hannibal eyes it without speaking, folding your reaction into the lengthy tome of his mind.

“The victim’s stomach was missing,” says Will, turning to pluck a bottle of whiskey from a nearby cabinet like some bronze fruit. “That’s new. The Lover’s mutilations are all with the purpose of fitting the bodies of his victims inside their silicone casings. He has no surgical skills.

“This new killer obviously has expertise. Savannah’s stomach was cut precisely from her body with the clear intent of taking it as a trophy.”

“Her stomach?” you repeat.

You feel the heaviness of meat within you and are chilled by the coincidence.

Hannibal could not have known what the copycat would take to reference it, could not have known of his existence to begin with, and yet as you glance at him under your lashes you don’t quite trust the seriousness of his expression, his eyes gleaming dimly as tarmac in the rain.

“You mustn’t worry, Little One,” says Hannibal, turning to lift you up onto his lap. “The Lover can’t hurt you. We will protect you, always.”

He settles your head against his chest, which resounds with the slow beat of his heart and the machinery of organs digesting his own rich meal.

The monster knows of your renewed distrust and is unthreatened by it, declawed and tooth-filed as you are by his influence over you and all the passageways of the world you’d otherwise cross in your escape.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Daddy,” you mutter, against his shirt, and the warmth of Hannibal’s palm cups your buttocks with a tormenting friction, both threat and tease at once.

While you hate him—are in terror of him, always—your form is increasingly enamoured by his touch as though it knows that it must be so, or die.

“No need to thank me for performing my duty to you, Little One,” says Hannibal, into your ear. “For you belong to me, and to Will, and you must never forget it.”

#manna fic #hannibal fic #tw noncon #tw csa #tw abuse #tw drugs #tw captivity #dead dove do not eat #hannibal lecter x reader #will graham x reader #hannibal lecter x reader x will graham #darkfic

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piracytheorist · 1 year ago

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The kindness surviving

As I can't stop saying, one of my favourite things about Spy x Family is how focused it is on humanity's innate kindness. Its premise is three lonely people finding a family (and themselves) with each other, the story's endgame is to secure peace, it's hopeful in the midst of its realism, and it allows characters to be vulnerable when it comes to family and connections.

And one more thing that is added to that, is how Yor and Twilight (to a less obvious degree) have retained their kindness and compassion through their violent lives and professions.

Yor started the assassin gig when she was just a teenager.

Adding to that how it was a choice she made out of despair and lack of any other choice, and how the Shopkeeper seems like a despicable person to work under (there's no moral merit to recruiting children for assassinations, let alone orphans with no other choices left), this could have easily made into a story of how Yor became cold and emotionless and cruel.

Instead, particularly thanks to having Yuri in her life, she's remained as kind as ever, even when she kills people. She doesn't torture her targets, would rather refrain spilling unnecessary blood, and she's careful and quick in her job.

And through all that, her priority has never been herself.

She's kind, almost to a fault. She's polite and when it comes to everyone else but her targets, she thinks they have the best interests at heart and can even be confused sometimes as to why some people behave in a rude or cruel way.

She's human. Her reason to start and continue being an assassin was to ensure her brother's carefree life, and now that she's bonded with the Forgers, they've joined Yuri in the way she wishes to protect their peaceful life.

It's showing that despite her violent work, her humanity has prevailed, making her selfless and nurturing. It's in our nature.

Twilight's case is handled differently, as he has denied himself any identity and attachments to ideals, aside from protecting the peace.

He's not supposed to "have" traits or a personality. He was trained to be able to adapt to any situation and become the role he's acting as. When he acts as a father, he can be kind and caring. When he acts as a terrorist, he can be cruel and violent. And when his job gives him no option but to kill people who stand in his way, he'll do it without remorse.

But again, like Yor, his reason to do everything he does is to ensure peace remains, so that no-one will have to suffer like he did. That's a very empathetic and compassionate motivation, and though the circumstances of his life made him bury it deep, the moment Anya cries and clutches onto him for comfort he's reminded securely of that.

As he is when he sees Anya smile.

He cares for the next generation and wants to provide it with a better future than he had. And while the previous season showed many moments of instinctual kindness (saving the kid from the charging cow, sparing the German shepherd, thanking Bond for saving Anya, encouraging Carroll Campbell to play fairly) and understanding of how humans can work together (his discussion with Desmond, talking about how despite different stances, people can still meet in the middle if they try), the cruise arc showed how he prioritized on making Anya happy. While at first he was confused by the concept of "having fun", he eventually ended up observing Anya and encouraging activities that would make her happy.

Again, after a certain point the "mission" is nowhere in his mind and he only worries how Anya's mood will affect her and the family. As he focuses on that, he turns compassionate, empathetic, and dare I say, sweet.

And I can't help thinking those are traits he doesn't have to pretend that much to show, if at all.

He's a master of manipulation and deception. He could act tooth-rottingly sweet to deceive his targets, but seeing how open and unprecedentedly honest he becomes with Yor, and how (even if he doesn't realize it) he actually learns to be a good father to help Anya with her mood, I don't think that's the case with those two (three, if you count Bond too!).

If nothing else, we (and Anya) have the advantage of hearing his thoughts, and while we joke about how "For The Mission" is his flimsy excuse to himself for the feelings he's developing for his family, it's truly important how he's started to not need the reminder; how he can instinctively care for them, because it's what his compassionate nature tells him to do.

And I think, just like Yor, it's very important and telling that through his life of violence and deception, his humanity has survived just under the surface and is starting to show more the longer he stays with the Forgers. He's not "learning" to be compassionate and caring; those are traits that already existed, but he had to cover with all his fake identities. However, since they were what led him to become a spy in the first place, the way didn't replace the motivation.

He's human, even though he willingly trained to suppress any such vulnerable spots, they could never be extinguished entirely.

This story is full of hope for humanity and how kindness can survive and prevail among anything else. Its characters would logically follow the example.

And I love them for it.

(Anime only here, don't spoil me for the manga)

#Spy x Family #sxf meta #Yor Forger #Loid Forger

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ashton-sano · 7 months ago

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HxH: Feitan w/ a Strong! S/o Pt.1(?)

`>When I say strong, the reader, in this case, would be as physically capable and have nen and/or abilities comparable to Feitan. I see a lot of headcanons but not many like this

`>Getting back into the HXH fandom slowly so while I'm working on some more Food Wars! Content, have these since this gremlin has been plaguing my mind lol. If this gets enough love, ill make a part 2 so tell me what you all think :3

Warning: Murder, Stalking and Strong language

So if you a minor, beware.

-To start, he might be a tad put off

-It's pretty rare to find someone with such prowess, especially ones that don't have less than-savory intentions

-Id assume you met on a battlefield of some kind or while he was on one of his missions with the troupe

-Just like him, you aren't exactly the upstanding citizen type and are committing crimes of some sort when you encounter

-Whether stealing the same things or killing the same people, you two have similar goals, regardless of the reason

-To be fair, he didn't think much of you when you first appeared

"How. Troublesome...."

-An annoying obstacle, someone to dispatch quickly

-However, after a rather tedious fight and a good amount of bruises, he realized it might not be that simple

-Your moves were calculated and precise, and your battle iq no doubt honed over years of experience with nen abilities that even he found difficult to handle

-His interest was certainly piqued, as much as it can for Feitan anyway

-You’ll hand it to him; its been a while since you've seen his level of strength

-A true master of his craft, no doubt

-Regardless, that isn't why you were here

-You came to rid of a target and with your mission accomplished, there was no reason to stay, no matter how curious you were about the extent of his ability

-You were swift at your exit, swift enough that Feitan only caught your figure leaving from the corner of his eye

-Admittedly you've sparked more than enough of his interest

-something about your very being itched him in a way he couldn't describe and lingered his thoughts for moments too long

-Like it or not, your existence loomed his mind awkwardly and gave his chest a tighten

-Indescribably annoying

'Must. know. about. Her. Get rid of stupid feeling.”

-now we all know Feitan is no short of deranged and sadistic so it is no telling if he wanted to know for devious reasons or other

-Whatever the case, it led to him talking Shalnark into researching deep (and I mean very deep) into you

-Playing it off as a simple inquiry, he found you, a picture attached to your profile albeit a very blurry one

-All that he could get was your name and Age

"Y/n. Interesting. Name."

Shalnark is confused

-That's how he got here, peeping from your window as you rest

-Even with such little information, finding you was trivially easy

-Your apartment was small, compact he’d say

-Nothing compared to the places he’s layed his head: cold, dark, and filthy on a good day

-He spent the night watching you sleep, noticing every ministration, every time you got up abruptly and checked your surroundings, nearly certain something was amiss

-He didn't expect peeping on you to be so trepidatious

-That didn't stop him from stopping by every time he wasn't busy to check up and watch you

-Days became weeks and months flew by as he kept this cycle going

-It eventually got to the point that he'd follow you to and from your house

-He was searching and, surprisingly, unsure of what for

-He's never felt any particular connection to people outside of the spiders so it was usually easy to write it off as mindless curiosity

-He just wants to know why you interest him so much, and nothing more

-That's how he ended up in your house when you left for your 8 am morning run, which took you approx. 30 minutes to finish as of this week

-He was just checking your clothes because he wished to know where you frequented, perhaps he could lie in waiting as you shopped, snatching your jugular and relenting this pounding in his chest that paces just a few beats quicker

-He only checks the food you eat to see what your diet consists of, perhaps to poison you as your gaze falters from your plate, even if just for a second, permanently killing the heat that rises against his skin at the thought of you

-He doesn't care about you; he just wants to know your weaknesses to exploit, that’s all

-If that were true, then why was he in your room when you weren't? Taking in your scent as if an attached dog

-Surely he could've killed you thousands of times over in the dead of your sleep; a slit to your throat would've ended this and yet he feels pulled to let you live

“Just. one. More day.”

-If it didn't matter, if you didn't matter, why did he effectively remove any potential romantic partner from your life?

-It's just to make you easier to kill; it's just to make you easier to kill, it's just to make you easier to take. No! Kill...not take...

-What was once curiosity became more of a crippling obsession.

-He had to know everything—what you were doing, who you spoke to, and what you ate in the morning

-You captivated him and even if he couldn't understand it, you had him wrapped around your finger without so much as a word

-Ever since your mission 4 months ago, a certain feeling has lingered your consciousness and kept you on edge with no clue as to the source

-Things went missing, your associates became distant—well, more distant than you kept them—and your kills have become suspiciously easier.

-To the average person, such a prospect would strike fear and cause for trepidation

-Did you think I wasn't aware that he'd been watching me?

-All credit goes to him, spotting him was the hardest part

-He only let his presence be known through peeks of his bloodlust spilling before he vanished in the same motion, which gave away how seasoned he was

It was hard to tell if he wanted me to find him with how obvious his actions became; no, the word would be bold. His actions have gone from stealing articles from the back of my closet to lacing food when he was sure I hadn't seen him

-Playing dumb was the easy part; actually avoiding his kidnapping attempt(s) was certainly a challenge

-Before long, you could see the desperation in his nen

“You're getting sloppy, Stalker.”

-I suppose you've worked hard, stalker, I’ll let you win just this once

#character x you #feitan x reader #phantom troupe #hxh x reader #feitan portor #xreader #x reader #x yn #character x y/n #character x reader #feitan porter x reader #hunter x hunter drabble #hxh feitan #drabbles

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inkdemonapologist · 2 months ago

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Do you prefer Bendy and the Ink Machine or Bendy and the Dark Revival

Gosh…. Tough to answer! I didn’t play either game, nor have I even watched them played all the way through (I just got obsessed and learned as much as I could indirectly). So my relationship to these games is kind of difficult to pin down. If gameplay is better in one than the other, I wouldn’t know. And I’ve talked about this before, but I think neither of them really have a well-told story – the shortcomings are just more obvious in Dark Revival.

TL;DR: the answer is Bendy and the Ink Machine. But I had to really think it over; at first I wasn't sure. After all, I’ve drawn a lot more game-canon art for Dark Revival than Ink Machine! And so much of the appeal of Ink Machine is the Promise of it, which sort of feels unfair to factor in – like, Bendy had a very compelling premise, but Dark Revival didn’t have the luxury of JUST being a cool premise – it had to try to deliver on BatIM’s promises, something BatIM itself didn’t really manage either.

Dark Revival in some ways embraced its human characters more than BatIM ever did (and had very nicely designed human models), which admittedly appeals to me a lot as someone who’s most invested in the humans and the history of this place. But... it’s also a game where that history no longer matters. BatIM’s story leaned heavily on the intrigue of discovering What Happened, while in Dark Revival, what happened in the studio back in the 30s and 40s feels strangely irrelevant? In BatIM I feel like that was the big appeal --

Like, yeah, Sammy’s a weird inky cultist, but the main reason he’s interesting is because we know he didn’t used to be like that. He was annoyed with the cartoon but working here Did Something To Him and now he’s become This. Susie is similar – Twisted Alice would be sort of a shallowly tropey evil lady and not much else were it not for the history of her, the way we strongly suspect that Susie became her out of desperation. And crucially, you’re never directly told these things; you discover the pieces and put them together. I think that was the part of BatIM that really captured me, and is also why I really liked DCTL and especially Illusion of Living when I read them – I think they fit in with that core of BatIM: unreliable documents from one point of view with pieces and discoveries to be held up and compared to other parts of the franchise.

And that is in fact the part that I feel Dark Revival deviated from: the story told and implied in the negative space between audiologs. One of the first notes you find in Dark Revival is from Sammy, and seems to pick up where BatIM left off – Sammy’s insistence that he’s loyal to the company, his casual mention that he speaks for both himself and Jack, are the same sort of Clues we got in Ink Machine, one side of the story that lets us compare with other things Sammy and Jack and Joey have said to figure out which bits are true, and what these relationships we can’t see must’ve been like. But after that, the audiologs and notes shift. It’s a subtle difference, because technically they still have characters talking about what happened in the past, but Dark Revival’s feel less like a story told in negative space and more like an explanation. The audio logs and notes are there to make THIS GAME, the story we’re in now, make sense.

Like, for comparison, the most interesting things that happened in Ink Machine’s past are things we put together: Posters of a cartoon character. An audiolog of Susie getting attached to voicing that character. An audiolog of a distraught Susie losing the part. A toymaker admitting the merch isn’t selling. A living cartoon who appears to be the character, but deeply messed up and desperate to be Perfect. An audiolog of Joey offering Susie a new opportunity to “become Alice.” The things we see happening in Ink Machine are just a piece of the story, the consequences that let us put together what happened in between.

What’s interesting in Dark Revival’s past? Joey had a daughter, created via magic and ink – which is revealed to us not from multiple perspectives, but from Joey playing a literal slideshow to directly explain it. A little Bendy was created, but nobody seems terribly interested in weighing in on that, there’s just an explanation about what was done to change the Ink Demon into Bendy. See the difference? It’s no wonder there’s so many theories about Joey’s Story Being Untrustworthy, because in Ink Machine, one side of the story would be seen as just one piece. We wait for the other side of the story and are confused when it never comes... but this wasn’t meant to be a piece of a story for us to discover – it was meant to be an explanation.

So, yeah, overall, I think Dark Revival introduced some concepts that were very strong and resonated with me (I love Memory Joey, and I love Joey's messy decision to raise a child) but ultimately my preference lies with Ink Machine. Putting together the pieces to search for the truth in the negative space between them was what really captivated me for so long, and I find I really miss it in the sequel.

#batdr #batim #we all write on the walls #i know you have questions you always do #tries to remember all my bendy tags lmao #tbh i dont really think id managed to put my finger on this before writing all this up #but this really does feel like the big difference ive been struggling to quantify

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junixscribble · 2 months ago

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YOURE SO RIGHT..HEXCLAW ATTACKS...YOUR MIND

Viktor is also my favorite so let's bully him 💚 Once him and Jayce unlock "tickle fight" as an option, it becomes a W A R. Despite the physical disparity, Viktor is extremely competitive and they both have egos to protect (lovingly). They once spent a whole week trying to see who could surprise attack the other more. It didn't take too long for Viktor to reconsider tickling--it wasn't a way to bully, but instead a way for him to play with his beloved I MEAN his partner Jayce. The pure adoration that Jayce put into his ler attacks changed something in V for sure. He expected Jayce to gloat, or make comments about beating him/about his sensitivity. Instead, Jayce would laugh with him and smile with utmost warmth 🥺 telling Viktor how lovely his laugh is and how he better watch his back...

( PART 1 )

ASK CONT.

Once the love clicked in him, it became a favorite game of Viktor's. He grew to enjoy leeing as well (but only to Jayce). He loves poking at Jayce and pretending like he's 'inspecting' >:] Sometimes he'll use his cane to hook under Jayce's knee or arm to give him more space to work with ~

And as for lee-ing! Oh it's a BATTLE. Viktor as we know is super sensitive despite how thin he is. His giggles are sort of quiet? And breathy? But when he starts laughing he CACKLES. Sporadic hyena laugh cackle. Probably blabbering in Czech. Swats at Jayce's hands and covers his face when he snorts. Ribs are definitely the sweet spot, but also around the spine correction bolts on his back~ and his hips <<

Often when Jayce has him pinned, he'll lift Viktor's bad leg and put it over his shoulder so V doesn't kick with it and hurt himself by accident...

( PART 2 )

okokokok answering this in 2 parts cause why tf not

The tickle fights are brutal - so many progress branded Jayce mugs have been broken. Heimerdinger has absolutely walked past the lab and went to investigate when he heard a racket just to find Viktor with Jayce in a headlock and a hand attached to his stomach. They both stop stock still, and then Jayce takes the opportunity to turn the tables and suddenly Heimerdinger is forgotten because Jayce is attempting to blow a raspberry on Viktor's stomach and he's thrashing. Heimerdinger just shrugs and walks out at this point - he thinks its just them being them and is happy they are taking a break.

This may or may not work with canon BUT I love the idea of Sky having made friends with Viktor when they were kids. This means when they reconnected and Sky thought she needed to take Viktor down a peg she'd just poke his side till he gave in. Of course Sky has also walked in on a Jayvik War and her response was to start being the mc and calling out different spots to try. She's a neutral party, but Viktor gets the worst of it purely because Sky will tell Jayce about tickle spots even he'd forgotten about.

they love each other so muchhhhh

(1/2)

#arcane tickling #arcane tickles #jayce talis #arcane jayce #viktor arcane #lee!viktor #jayvik #lee!jayce

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gabessquishytum · 10 months ago

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🎩 🐇🎩🐇🎩

It took a really long time to realize that Robin was magic.

When Robin was with his da, his magic didn't really work - he could be playing alone having his stuffies dance and sing with him, then daddy would come by and teddy wouldn't dance anymore. It was weird, but also not, since it was always the case. Robin didn't even think too hard on it.

Then Robin became best friends with Orpheus and showed him his magic. And Orpheus thought it was cool! Even better Orpheus's father was magic too and he offered to talk to Robin's da and teach him with his dad's okay.

🎩🐇🎩🐇🎩

Hob was a little confused as to why his kitchen was filled to its little brim with his son, his son's best friend and best friend's hot goth father (what Hob's not blind) talking about magic & magic lessons.

Hob is as open minded as the next person, but magic isn't real. And not to be mean about it, but it doesn't seem like they're talking about pulling rabbits out of hats and neither Robin or Morpheus (smoking hot goth) seem to be able to do any "spells" or magic in the kitchen.

Hob (eyebrow raised): performance anxiety?!

Dream (extremely puzzled): I don't,,, this has never happened before...

After "testing," turns out that Hob is the issue -- magic doesn't work around him. That was probably what saved him from being bonked in the head by various toys when Robin was younger.

I LOVE the idea of magic!Dream and anti-magic!Hob (not to go off on a tangent but I would loooove some kind of Black Clover au for dreamling) - just the idea of literal opposites attracting is so delicious.

Morpheus immediately feels so disappointed when he finds out that Hob is so fucking mundane he seems to suppress all forms of magic whenever he's around. Because Hob is kind of sexy, but Morpheus can't be with a man like that. All of Morpheus’s exes were just as magical as him, if not more so.

But as he tutors Robin (with Hob in the next room, helping Orpheus with homework or just chilling) Morpheus grows more and more attached to perfectly normal, ordinary (boring) Hob. The way he makes tea without magic. His gentle smile. His cute butt in his worn out jeans...

Sometime Morpheus thinks that maybe the reason all his relationships have failed, is because magic got in the way. Maybe dating a completely normal man would be different? Well, there's only one way to find out.

(Robin would totally try to help get them together, but his efforts to make his dad trip and fall into Morpheus’s arms with magic totally fail every time. Its just as well that Hob is clumsy enough to manage that by himself!)

#the sandman #dreamling

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meanbossart · 11 months ago

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its funny looking between his former fixation (orin) and current one (astarion) and noticing he has a very obvious 'type'. what made him so taken with orin, though? what did he like about her? did he not have any initial misgivings? was he ever concerned she might turn on him?

B)c Please know how happy it made me to finally have someone spell this out lmao. It's absolutely true, at least within the dynamic that DU drow shared with each of them; there are a lot of parallels to be found between Orin and Astarion.

The tough part of this question however, is that I have a very difficult time pinning Orin down. She's easily the most elusive character out of the Chosen, and while I understand this Is likely a consequence of being underwritten, I also see a certain charm in a character who's lack of development is part of their tragedy - whose story is very much about not being allowed much individuality of their own, and having no resolution. I think this is a space worth playing in.

I couldn't tell you what the hell Orin likes, what she was like besides blood-thirsty and deranged. I can barely fathom her sitting down to have a conversation with someone. Think about it - she was raised from childhood in the Bhaal temple, both her parent's were faithful servants and she was essentially groomed from birth to be either Bhaal's Chosen, the Dark Urge's consort, or a sacrificial lamb. Nobody had ANYTHING to gain from allowing her to develop any humanity.

Of course, this doesn't mean she doesn't have any, deep inside. We see glimpses of it in fairly difficult-to-get dialogue regarding her origins during act 3. My very vague take on Orin is that she was a determined and persistent person who learned to make her circumstances work for her as best as she could, who had a strong sense of her boundaries but a horrifically difficult time differentiating between negative emotions - this is why I personally don't even know whether she """"led DU drow on""" our of malice or self-preservation. Perhaps she didn't know either - I think whenever Orin felt sadness, discomfort, anger or even happiness or love, she found a way to turn it into bloodlust and sadism, every time.

And it's in part this elusiveness that would have attracted DU drow. What did Astarion have to do to get DU drow to pursue him? He had to feign disinterest, he had to pull away - the fact that Orin never allowed DU drow to get close enough to truly know her plays a significant part in how unhealthy his attachment for her became.

That said, this was a long game - he did become infatuated pretty much from the moment he saw her when they were both teenagers. This is a much simpler concept to understand - he was profoundly emotionally inept and neglected, and she was probably the prettiest thing he ever laid eyes on, not to mention the only other person in the temple close to him in age.

Truth is, they did have a lot in common on the very basis of having been so thoroughly stripped of their humanities, but It was a closeness born entirely from circumstance - the implied vulnerability in the type of life they shared together, even if they never spoke about feelings or shared what normal people would qualify as a "sweet" moment. They didn't really use their words, and when they did, they were like daggers - twisted murder sibling banter.

But when they had to work together it was very different. They played off each each other like match and friction, like two fitted cogs turning a wheel. There must have been nothing that swelled DU drow's heart more than when they killed together, perhaps even more than when Orin hurt him. He loved seeing her in her element and yearned for nothing more but to be let into the joy she found in it.

He Never had any misgivings. He always thought she would come around (to him) eventually. He was completely and entirely blind to how much her resentment towards him grew throughout the years, how he lost a sister through wanting a lover.

#ask #du drow lore #orin the red #bg3 spoilers #durge/orin

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lovesickletters · 2 years ago

Text

💜𝒮𝒶𝒸𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒾𝓃ℯ 𝒮𝓌ℯℯ𝓉💜

𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓇𝒹ℯ𝓌 𝒱𝒶𝓁𝓁ℯ𝓎 | 𝒮ℯ𝒷𝒶𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒶𝓃／ℰ𝓁𝓁𝒾ℴ𝓉／ℋ𝒶𝓁ℯ𝓎 𝓍 ��ℯ𝒶𝒹ℯ𝓇 {𝒮ℯ𝓅𝒶𝓇𝒶𝓉ℯ𝓁𝓎}

𝒮ℯ𝒷𝒶𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒶𝓃

It was the usual time, on that particular night when you stepped onto the veranda and felt a wave of the warm spring air wash over you, that you saw Sebastian sitting on the edge of the patio, one leg hanging off the side as he leaned on his other knee tucked close to his chest. You could already guess why from the small white stick clutched in his hand and the small rectangular box sitting beside him. His head swivelled to greet you, nodding briefly at you with the look of someone caught off guard.

“Hey.”

He turned back to looking out across the rolling fields of crops and sleepy barns full of assortments of animals, something clearly playing on his mind he didn’t care to toss into the air. He liked to come out here to think, and have a smoke, occasionally.

You took a seat beside him, and raised your eyebrows in surprise as the writing on the package beside him became clearer with proximity.

“Yeah, candy cigarettes. It’s not much but I guess it’s something.” He smiled at you, placing the end of one between his lips idly like a real cigarette. A cruelly sweet idea popped into your head.

Unable to resist the chance to playfully scare him you leaned all the way in towards him, your hand sweeping up to take a hold of his chin and turn his face back towards you. The candy cigarette went limp between his limps as he flushed, looking back at you with a startled, flustered expression as you leaned in close…

And with a *crunch* you stole the end of his candy treat, moving back with a wicked smirk as you did so. His eyebrows knit together in cute yet annoyed confusion as he huffed, his blush going tomato red from the way your shoulders shook with the chuckle you were holding back.

“You’re sleeping on the couch for that.”

ℰ𝓁𝓁𝒾ℴ𝓉

With an overexcited grin you proudly thrust your prize in front of Elliot’s face, showing off a shiny new lollipop you’d won at The Valley fair earlier. It was far too large and bright red, like every stereotypical lollipop ever. There was a bow neatly tied around the top of the stick and a little piece of card attached to a string on it, reading in scrawled lettering;

*’To: Elliot’*

Despite the unorthodox manner in which you presented your gift to him, he took your offering graciously, and couldn’t stop the smile that fought its way to his face as he thanked you for the gift.

“I won this for you at the fair! I hope you like it, try it now!!”

“Well I suppose I could take a break from my writing desk for today. Better than staring at an empty page all day!”

With your pressuring and the tempting state of the lollipop Elliot smiled cheerfully and began removing the wrapper in a careful manner, taking care not to drop the wrapper on the ground. It was only when the plastic wrapping had been fully removed did you realise the consequences of your actions, as with a sparkle in his eye, Elliot began licking and sucking at the lolly with an agonising manner. Taking care to taste every bit of it as he lowered it down to the base of his tongue in the way one might hypothetically place something larger inside you were only too aware of the blush creeping across your face.

With a pop, Elliot pulled the treat from his mouth, brushing his long hair out of the way as he looked at you, struggling to keep a smirk off of his face as you steamed.

“Oh my dear, is something the matter?”

ℋ𝒶𝓁ℯ𝓎

“Haley, look!”

Haley’s attention drifted from the lip gloss she was applying with the help of her compact mirror towards your grinning face. You were showing her something, a set of beads on a string around your neck. Upon further inspection as she looked closer, she could see it was one of those candy necklaces that little kids would wear years ago. She could recall wearing layers of them as a kid like they were fine jewellery, or at least until her sister Emily devoured them.

Refocusing back on your face, she could faintly hear you talking about some menial tasks you did that day, planted some new vegetables and milked some cows or whatever it is farmers do. She knew she should be paying more attention but she was distracted by a wonderful idea that popped into her head out of nowhere.

“…-And then I had to go see Marnie about this chicken of hers because- Haley? What are you doing?” You were pulled from your spiel by the sight of Haley’s eyes continuing to rest on your neck distractingly. “Oh yeah, if you want to try them I have some extra-“

She moved faster than you expected, placing her lips against your throat without warning. Your hands went to her shoulders on instinct, pressing back on them as you felt her nip at your skin, smearing lip gloss as she went. A shiver went up your spine as she licked and bit at your neck, letting out a sigh.

“Mmmm~ so sweet~!”

Moving away without any recognition of what she’d just done she pulled out her mirror again to reapply her lip gloss, crumbled bits of necklace still sitting on her lower lip. “You can continue going on about your chickens, or whatever-“

#stardew valley #Stardew valley x Reader #Sebastian sdv x reader #sebastian x reader #haley x reader #haley sdv x reader #elliot sdv x reader #elliot x reader #stardew haley x reader #stardew elliot x reader #🤍𝓁𝒾ℊ𝒽𝓉🤍#🌹𝓈𝒻𝓌🌹

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hey-i-am-trying · 8 months ago

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hi, tripoier here! Long text incoming alert and a detailed explanation of the situation for qsmpblr (also sorry if I make some typos I'm writing without translator)

Yeah I also saw what happened today with the og admin of Pepito and I have a lot to say about it. First of all I'm not speaking in behalf of the community but I'm my own experience of the situation. I watched the development of Pepito's story since day one and fell in love with that little guy (and his laggy PC). Then second day arrived and I noticed the admin change bc he was less laggy and I've learned enough Portuguese and 07's (Richas admin) mannerisms to recognize when he's playing a character, even Roier noticed but didn't say anything until the screencap incident lol

Few day passed and 07 created such a cute and wholesome personality for Pepito, that contrasted very well with the role that roier was having at the moment— that it's understandable that it may not be too comfortable for some people but for the ones that had been watching Roier's story in the server + his relationship with Bobby, we take it with humor/hope for him to heal slowly after what happened in Purgatory and with Bobby (and believe me, Bobby had a HUGE impact on how Roier behaved with the rest of he eggs after his death)

So during the days 07 played as Pepito all the tripoiers were in this state of hope because we knew how much q!Roier was trying hard to not to get attached to Pepito, he knew the moment something happens to him he was gonna suffer A LOT, and Pepito was this pure, innocent ray of sunshine that it was imposible for us not to love immediately (Roier also did from day one but he loved to play with us + his lore at the moment was being in depression for the lost of his husband and having Richas and Leo in their comatose state). Also, is worth to mention that after he discovered it was 07 the one playing as Pepito he became more playful and started to tease him just to make him go out of role (and succeeded one time). Which is why he used the chancla a lot with him, as a shield for the feelings that were starting to grow on him again.

Then, Otipep happened.

This is the part I'm gonna be more careful to explain bc there is a language barrier that for the people who don't have Spanish as their first language they cannot understand or got confused

When Otipep appeared Roier noticed that it was another admin playing as Pepito because 07 was busy helping with Q's lore, we don't know if he recognized immediately that it was the original one or just a random temporary admin, but he noticed that this Pepito appeared where the fist one disconnected (in the garden outside of his house). Some people noticed that it was the original one and got happy bc it meaned that finally Pepito had his permanently admin back and bc Richas and the others eggs were also back from the coma we could see them both at the same time (roier used to joke about it every time 07 was around)

We also thought that the og admin had been catching up with the role that 07 has built so far with Pepito (which was not, and we would never know if it was either miscommunication between the admins or the og admin just decided to ignore the actual role to keep their 'idea' for the role), so at first we were a little bit shocked when this Pepito started acting so "dry" (idk if this is the correct word) with Roier, bc we had already gotten used to Pepito's tender way of speaking, but we just let that pass for a bit.

But then that "dry" behavior started going to go down a path were even we as an audience started getting uncomfortable, because roier was trying to socialize with the admin but they clearly didn't knew what's has been going on these past days, so Roier take the time to make a summary of the last days with his typical chill humor, and while he was doing that everything reached its final point with the sign "hueles a culo también hijo de puta" = you also smell like ass son of a bitch.

now This. THIS right here is what destroyed everything. Because you would say "oh, it's just Pepito following Roier's game, it's was in a playful way".

No.

It. was. not.

When Roier starts calling someone with some swears or related words is always in a playful way, and there is context and trust behind. When Otipep put that sign Roier was making a summary of the role that 07 has been doing with Pepito, bc he didn't wanted to let them behind, and while doing that he always explain with his usual humor to make it less unconformable for the admin/ entertained for his audience.

So when he placed that sign we all get out of the loop because it came from nowhere, even Roier kept silence of a few second because 1). it sounded rude, that sign was so out of place 2). Roier was explaining the last few days to the admin so he can keep up with the role, he was not "joking" with the admin, or moving on to another topic, he was helping the admin. 3). We, as an audience, felt so shocked because they weren't saying that to Roier in a playful way, they were giving weight to those words. And this is the part that people that do not have Spanish as their first language doesn't understand. They gave weight to the insult. They didn't wrote that as a joke, they directly INSULTED the streamer.

Then roier proceeded to hit him with the chancla bc he wanted to take the control back of the situation in a humorous way, a damage control in other words, because the chat was filling with "??????" And people getting offended and angry (justified, even I felt offended) with the admin, but Roier is not of those type of persons and he always try to make his streams a safe place for his community, so if you ask me he did a really well job handling the situation even tho he felt offended and his audience noticed that for the rest of the stream (hell, even days later)

And if that was not enough, Roier kept trying to save the situation but the admin was not cooperating, with the "no he preguntado"= I've not asked you and other sign that I just don't remember and is not really worth it (and bc Otipep literally left Roier speaking alone with the "I'm going to look for better parents" and went to spawn zone), he just gave up trying and waited for Richas to come back (which was also chocked w the situation)

And this is me speaking from a non-neutral tone, but I think we could've had a Roier being super loving and caring with Pepito if this situation didn't happen in the first place, bc after this I noticed that Roier stopped tried to get close to Pepito, the situation really affected him so whatever role he was building with the character he just simply stopped and changed the dynamic with another one more limited and less parental, but keeping his usual humor bc it was not the fault of the actual admin or 07, it is what it is unfortunately.

That's why I'm so glad that the actual admin and Ricardão did such a good job saving Pepito because the Spanish speaking community was about to drop him, even streamers friends of Roier that are not part of the qsmp acknowledge the behavior of Otipep with Roier (if that doesn't say a lot about how complicated it was on this side of the road)

And even after all these things there was people out there calling the Spanish speaking community as dramatic or harassing Roier when the situation happened (and it seems they still do it :/ ), but most of us kept quiet because we respect Roier and as he says, mejor pasamos de movidas.

and well, this is it, I know I'm missing some points in the story but honestly getting into fights or hate in general is not my thing, I wanted to give some context for the people of Tumblr because I know, at least here people take the time to read and are more chill unlike twt, and I hope I gave some clarification for the rest of the communities that are not native in Spanish, I really really love Pepito and I'm so glad we had 07 and the actual admin there to play this character, I still can't believe that person had the audacity to come out proudly as Pepito's 1st admin when literally no one from the Spanish community considers his 2 appereances as canon after their blunder xd

Thank you for sharing!

I understand that some stuff are hard to translate, thank you for taking the time. I didn't know that your community was being called dramatic because of that! That is dumb as hell and I am sorry it happend in the first place.

Of course we are no in business of spreading hate. I have always tried to see the other side of situations, I think from what I read in the admin's doc they had some kinda of vision for the character, but I guess they didn't realized that well, they were not going to become automaticly friends with Roier and have room to "joke" like that just because they have become an egg admin. Probably my best guest of what it happend.

It is really weird, maybe they were banking on the support that the other admins have gotten? Or they actually never realized how insulting they have come out as.

Well, I don't have much to say, except I am sorry it happend at all with Roier and the hispanic community.

#qsmp #qsmp discourse #otipep #pepitoadmin

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