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thatfreshi · 1 year

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Can I request an Astarion x reader fic where the reader keeps getting hit on/cat called by random people, and she brushes it off at first but it slowly becomes evident that it really bothers her, and needs someone to intervene or comfort her?

TW - Sexual harassment, threat of kidnapping

Recommended Song: Used - SZA FT. Don Toliver

Ah taverns, such wondrous places of inebriation and sloppy people of all creeds. You and Astarion are party people, despite his introverted nature. It's more about being two people thriving in chaos, playing the other patrons like pawns to make the night exciting, flirting with a stranger to snatch their drink from the bar, and all of those morally grey things. Sure, maybe it's not ethical to steal, but it sure is fun.

It's not a secret that you are two of the most good-looking regulars, but it's also well-known that you're severely monogamous. In fact, it's gotten very close to voyeurism multiple times, which has gotten you kicked out of a couple places. You don't mind public displays of affection, even if they're a little far gone at times. All of that to say, it's hard not to notice when you arrive.

Ever since the death of Cazador, you've been living in luxury. Despite rejecting ascension, Astarion didn't mind getting his hands all over the stockpile of gold and jewels the Szarrs had at their estate. After all, you'd say he deserves it. It's almost like being nobility, adorned in gorgeous clothing amongst the common people, and yet you fit in quite well. This rich adornment came with tight-fitting gowns, gorgeous lace pieces, corsets of the highest quality. Those also didn't go unnoticed, but this night in particular some people crossed the line.

You and Astarion brought your own bottle of wine to start the evening, something to get you loose enough to put up with whatever was on tap. Occasionally you'd befriend some strangers, just for the evening. Astarion had a bad habit of making jokes about his vampirism, so you often avoided speaking to the same people again in case they'd look past his sarcasm.

This night in particular you'd come across quite the fun group, and you'd kindly shared some of your wine with them, which was a most rare occurrence. Soon enough you ran out, and Astarion offered to grab something else for the table.

"I'll be right back darling."

He has a habit of disappearing in most circles, but he's always nearby when it comes to you, especially in a place like this. Of course he's protective of you, all you truly have is each other. He'll walk to the bar and purchase a new bottle, keeping eyes, or at least ears on you the entire time he's away. Perks of loving an elf, as his heightened senses have come in handy multiple times.

"Well, that man of yours certainly is something."

A human man comments from across the table, taking a sip of your fancy wine.

"I know."

You smirk, taking a sip of your drink.

"I can't imagine he's all that in the bedroom though."

You almost spit out your wine, surprised by the audacity of this complete stranger.

"I'm sorry, but who are you?"

"Just someone who thinks you could do better."

"And what makes you say that?"

"Well, I could bed you for a change."

You almost want to throw up at how bold this man is being. Instead of dragging the conversation on any further, you grab your drink and go to stand up, trying to eye Astarion from across the room. The tavern was awfully busy, far more than usual. After realizing he was nowhere in sight, you move to make your way to the bar. Suddenly, there's a hand in your hair, yanking you back.

"Well that's no way to treat a nice young man, now is it?"

This human snarls in your ear. No one seems to notice the situation, as the crowd is bustling. It's not often you get scared of random tavern goers, but this man is far more handsy than others.

"Unhand me."

You go to grab for the knife hidden under the slit of your dress, realizing you forgot to grab it on the way out. Of course, tonight of all nights. Realizing you were trying to grab for a weapon, the human twists your wrist behind your back, making you yelp in pain.

Astarion had a hard time hearing that night because of all the overlapping conversation, but that sound was all he needed for his ears to perk up and for him to abandon his drink mission. He has a keen sense for knowing when you're in danger.

"Adorable, you think you're that strong huh?"

He goes to feel where you reached for your knife, lingering on your leg a little too long. Then, he freezes.

"Excuse me sir, could you show me where your pulse is in your neck? Make sure your blood's still pumping?"

Astarion has his dagger in hand behind your attacker. The human starts shaking, and slowly creeps his hand off of your leg and onto his neck.

"Very good. Now, if you'd like to keep that precious sustenance pumping through your veins and don't want me to pop your jaw out of it's socket, you'll unhand my wife."

He points the tip of his dagger right where the neck meets the jawline, almost drawing blood. Soon after the human unhands your hair, and scrambles away, not before Astarion leaves the tiniest knick in his neck: a reminder. You turn around and embrace the vampire, finally catching your breath. He lets you stay wrapped around his side as he guides you out of the tavern.

"Are you alright my love? Did he hurt you?"

"Just my scalp a little. I forgot my knife before we left, stupid mistake."

He lifts your chin up to make eye contact with him.

"You shouldn't have to be armed so some man won't harass you. Would I prefer you to have a weapon on you? Of course, but if you ever can't protect yourself, I will."

You start to tear up a little. It's been a while since you've been that scared, and no one seemed to notice. What would've happened if Astarion was too late?

"Look at me."

He wakes you from your thoughts.

"Let's go home. Perhaps this isn't the right place for us."

You wrap your arm around his, holding onto his sleeve. Darkvision is nice at times like this, since he can see much further than you. The walk home is quiet, and he doesn't mind. However, he is constantly eyeing nearby alleyways in case that man decides to get smart with him. When you get home you ball up on the sofa, and he makes sure the door is double-locked, something he doesn't often do considering he made the locks himself. He makes his way to the sofa, the plush velvet making a nice contrast to rickety wooden chairs of the tavern.

"Come here darling."

He pulls you back to lay on him, and he unclasps your necklace, placing it gently on the nearby table.

"Astarion?"

You look up at him.

"Yes my love?"

Tears prick at your eyes again. You have a hard time getting the words out, as if it's an embarrassing question.

"Will... will you always keep me safe?"

Your voice wavers. He starts massaging your shoulders.

"Of course my sweet Tav, I'll keep you safe as long as you live."

His voice lowered, a certain serious tone taking hold. Part of him felt guilty things even went as far as they did tonight, but he promised himself he'd never let it happen again.

"I love you."

He smiles. It's not often you just say 'I love you' to one another, it's usually said in many different ways, in actions, in pet names. You save it for serious moments, when it feels important to remind each other of your love, how it binds you.

"I love you too darling."

Nothing else is said. Soon enough you fall asleep as he rubs your back, peaceful and safe.

#astarion #astarion x reader #comfort #astarion x tav #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 #angst

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yikesmary · 9 months

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Hello

how about idol mingyu hypnotized by reader from the moment he sees her -you can choose where and how they meet- I just mingyu pining over her 💚

HYPNOTIZED — kim mingyu x reader

summary: where you've got seventeen's mingyu hypnotized, and he doesn't mind it one bit.

note: hey everyone🧍‍♀️

I don't know if I'm officially back, I just wanted to post something right before new years since I haven't posted since september and you guys deserve more than that. I might post here and there, but nothing too serious so don't expect me to come back with consistent posts. hope you guys enjoyed this though! <333

"We're going to be late, love!" Mingyu called out from outside of your room and you could practically hear him pace, as if he wasn't the guest of honor and the party couldn't exactly start without him and the other guys.

Dating an Idol wasn't at all like you expected—and you didn't even have any expectations in the first place. You had been introduced by Mingyu by Wonwoo, whom you had known for a couple of years now. Initially, you were a bit wary of going on the date, considering you've heard all kinds of stories from Wonwoo.

However, what won you over was how Wonwoo described Mingyu; 'the human version of a golden retriever'. Now, if anyone else said that, you wouldn't have believed them. However, this was Wonwoo, and the fact that he had said this with the most monotone voice ever and his face as serious as ever, so you just had to meet the guy that got Wonwoo to say such nice things about him.

You then went on one date with Mingyu and many more dates after that, until you guys started dating and eventually moved in together. The relationship wasn't totally public; while fans knew that Mingyu was dating (thanks to Dispatch, who had photographed you guys together, but your face was pretty well hidden), no one knew who he was dating specifically.

You supposed that it was a blessing in disguise that people knew Mingyu was dating but didn't know who it was. Most CARATs were happy that Mingyu had been dating, which you were happy to see since you didn't know how exactly they'd react when news first broke out.

Of course, there were some instances where people tried to sleuth and find out through various methods on who Mingyu was dating, but the two of you knew better and did everything you could in order to hide your relationship.

Those who know about your relationship have commented on how it must be hard dating someone like Mingyu, but you've told them that it was worth it and that you'd do it if it meant staying with Mingyu. Usually, you've said this with Mingyu not around, but the first time he heard it, you swore that he had never looked more in love than that moment.

"The car is waiting for us and— oh," Mingyu started to say, but had interrupted himself as he spotted you, who was fastening your heels.

You stood up and adjusted your dress accordingly, making sure that there were no wrinkles. You opened your mouth to say something, but there was no time as Mingyu quickly moved across your bedroom to you and captured you in a kiss.

Startled, you eventually kissed back once you realized what was happening. To balance yourself, you wrapped your arms around Mingyu's neck, your arms lightly touching his hair. Meanwhile, his hands went around your waist, pulling you closer.

You kiss for a few moments before you realize where you guys weren't, so you pull away. "I thought we were going to be late," you said, a bit breathless at the kissing.

"Did I say that? Now that I think about it, I don't have to attend. There's 13 of us, they wouldn't notice if I was missing," Mingyu said before trying to kiss you again, but you stopped him, making him pout.

"Nope, you've already used that excuse. Remember when you thought you could not attend an award show to spend the day with me and Seungcheol noticed? The guys didn't let that go for a whole month," you scolded him, this time pulling fully away from him.

"I'll take the fall for it, let's just stay home," Mingyu practically begged, but you weren't having it.

"How about the driver?" you countered, moving away in order to get your bag.

"I was going to pay him anyways, and I'll give him a tip or something," he shrugged.

"We're still going,"

As you and Mingyu walked towards the front door, Mingyu albeit walking slightly slower than you since he was sulking, he abruptly blocked the front door, stopping you in your tracks.

"Gyu, we're going to be late, like you said. You can't resort to using your strength to stop us, no matter attractive I think it is," you retorted.

"You think I'm attractive?"

"Of course you are! Look at you!" You exclaimed, gesturing to the entirety of him.

Mingyu blushed but grabbed one of your hands to pull you closer to him. "Did I tell you that you look beautiful today?" He asked, putting your face in between his hands gently, making sure he didn't mess up your make up.

"Just today?" you teased.

"Well, you look beautiful every day. And all the days after that,"

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chaoticklesblog · 7 months

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Maybe You Just Need More Convincing

Adam gets his everloving shit wrecked from some of the Hotel Staff in order to convince him sinners really can be redeemed. Charlie also recruits Lucifer to give them a hand, in more ways than one.

Warnings for foul language, some violence, suggestive humor (nothing extreme, just some totally in chatacter comments), my shitty grammar/punctuation, and lots of fluff/tickles. I hope you enjoy!! :3

It was no secret that Adam was heaven (and hell's) resident douchebag. He was stuck up, conceited, and completely self-centered. He had no real intentions of giving Hazbin Hotel a shot. He hadn't even shown up in person to the meeting in which was arranged originally between himself and Lucifer. And after Lucifer's daughter had stood in Lucifer's place at that meeting, well, Adam just couldn't take anything the princess of hell had to say seriously.

Charlie Morningstar was less than pleased to discover that the angels were going to be on a new six month extermination schedule. How was that even fair? It was so frustrating that Adam had flat out refused to listen to reason or even take Charlie's pitch of redemption even halfway seriously. He spent most of their allotted meeting time making sexist comments, talking about himself, interrupting anything Charlie had to say, and eating his pile of ribs in the most obnoxious and rude way possible.

Charlie had to think of a way to truly convince the head angel to call off the extermination and redeem those who were taking their path to redemption through the hotel seriously. But no song, no dramatic speech, no amount of begging or pleading could convince the dickhead that her Hotel would ever actually work.

"How could we actually convince heavens top angel to take our Hotel seriously?" Charlie had asked the staff and two meager residents in a meeting that was originally to be comprised of forgiveness role-playing and trust exercises. The change of routine was much welcomed by all, though they'd never explicitly tell Charlie that.

"We could just kill him?" Alastor suggested, his grin broadening and eyes darkening at the thought.

"That wouldn't be a good way to exemplify our goals or show redemption," Charlie paused. "We just need to figure out a weakness, you know, find something that we could use against him! Does anyone have any... less violent ideas?" She shoots Alastor a sympathetic smile.

"Vicious blackmail?" Angel suggests casually. He has the day off, and while he'd rather be scoring drugs or drinking at the bar with Husk's sole company, this discussion is far better than trust exercises.

"That's a less violent alternative," Charlie comments, "But still shady..."

"Listen toots, we aren't gonna convince Adam or anyone else to take us seriously if we don't play at least a little bit dirty," Angel tucks his upper set of arms behind his neck in a bored gesture.

"Angel has a point, Charlie. They wouldn't listen to reason, and the angels are notorious for not playing fair. I know you're trying to find a way that isn't violent or unconventional, but we might not have much of a choice. Especially if we want to defend our people," Vaggie steps closer to Charlie to embrace her briefly.

"Blackmail... nonviolent... unconventional... playing dirty..." Charlie thinks briefly about the options that fall under all these categories, and suddenly her face breaks out into a wide and evil grin. "I know exactly what we have to do! And I know just the person to call to ensure this plan will work. But I'm 99.9% positive, and it'll be foolproof!"

••••

"You want to what?" Lucifer's voice raises an octave. Unsure of what exactly this favor was his nearly estranged daughter had asked of him, he couldn't tell her no. But he hadn't known this was the specific favor in question until he arrived to the hotel. And Charlie had intentionally left out a few key details.

Had Lucifer known his precious daughter and hotel patronage had planned to exploit his ticklishness, he would've very well declined and spent the afternoon with his vast collection of rubber ducks.

"But that's only part of the favor. We also need you to arrange a meeting with Adam face to face. But first we need to know if this plan will work," Charlie's voice at the end was near pleading. Lucifer almost felt sorry for her, but what did this have to do with tickling him?

"I can arrange him to meet you all in person," Lucifer spoke slowly' "but what the hell does this have to do with tickling me?" His voice rose to a strangled octave, indicating that he was indeed ticklish.

"Mr. Morningstar, erm, your majesty, Charlie pointed out that you and Adam have similar angelic traits... so we figured that if you were... also inflicted the same weakness... We might actually have a shot at bringing that Adam prick down a few pegs," Vaggie nervously stepped forward to shake her girlfriends father's hand.

"I'd like to peg him," Angel murmered, earning a few looks of utter horror he quickly added "Adam, I meant Adam! Besides haven't you heard of hate fucking?" Angel grumbled defensively.

Lucifer turned back to Charlie.

"So you're asking me... if you can find various sensitive spots on my body... to use on Adam... in hopes of getting him to call of the next extermination?"

Charlie nodded enthusiastically and damnnit, Lucifer just couldn't say no to her.

"Okay, okay, okay... But a few things first... I'm only letting you do this as part of that favor. If anyone here ever tries to tickle me outside this one stand alone instance, consider yourselves to be absolutely wrecked. As ticklish as I am, I will ensure to pay you back in kind tenfold if any of you pull a stunt like this outside this small window of time. I'm only doing this because it would be nice to knock that dickhead down a few pegs."

His threat clung to the air a few moments. The king of hell was known to be ruthless, and he was a force to be reckoned with.

"Thanks dad!" Charlie reached over to hug him. Something the two hadn't done in such a long time but their embrace felt familiar. Normal even.

"A couple of other points..." Lucifer told the group, "an angels wings are the most sensitive, pretty much everywhere. Between the feathers, shoulder blades, wing pits, I mean, it's lethal... Lilith used to..."

Lucifer couldn't help but turn a blushy pink color at the mention of his former wife. He hadn't been properly tickled since... well, it had been quite some time. Lilith wasn't a stranger to tickling Lucifer to tears, but she was the only one to ever indulge in his weakness. He was never tickled by anyone other than Lilith. And cetainly not by this many people. Charlie had grown up with witnessing Lillith tickle him to pieces. Faint memories of her father squealing, shrieking, and downright begging Lilith not to tickle him while laughing helplessly. But Lilith had always been able to easily overpower her much smaller husband. But Charlie also knew how Lucifer could hold his own. She knew what a fierce tickle monster he could be in her own experiences and knew by watching her parents in her much younger days that Lucifer almost always sought revenge.

Lucifer kept reminding himself that this was necessary. He knew this was to help his people of hell, his daughter even, but being demon royalty and exposing his most innate physical weakness and allowing others to take advantage of it was downright terrifying. It had been bad then, but now? Lucifer let out an involuntary shudder.

"For Adam, specifically, I'm led to believe that he would have another weak point aside from his wings. But if his wings are anything like mine, then you shouldn't have much trouble!"

Lucifer tried his hardest to ignore the shit eating grins forming on the faces of both Angel Dust and Alastor. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. But he remembered his favor to Charlie, and all the memories of his past tickling experiences and thought that maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

"Please, do tell us of any other weak spots you think the angel will have, your royal higness!" Alastor chimes in, eager to have something to use against both Adam and Lucifer.

"God removed one of Adam's ribs to create his new wife. And being touched by that amount of power would absolutely cause that spot to be more sensitive... It's basically a given."

"So torture the guys wings and ribs, got it," Angel smirked.

"Torture Adam's wings and ribs," Lucifer clarified "you motherfuckers better go easy with me." Lucifer couldn't help but back away nervously from the group. Unfortunately for him, there was only so far he could back up before his back collided with the wall of the Hotel lobby adjacent to where Husk was sleeping at the bar. At least Nifffty and Husk weren't involved in this scheme.

"Anything else we need to know before we tickle you to death?" Charlie asked almost sympathetically as Vaggie, Angel, and Alastor closed in on the king of hell.

"Sixty seconds. Do NOT exceed sixty seconds." Four against one was definitely not a fair match.

Lucifer wasn't given time to think while the group circled around him. Shit. Fuck. Shit.

"Sixty seconds," Charlie clarified, "starting in 3..."

Why the fuck did he agree to this again?

"2..."

This really had better work on Adam. Otherwise Lucifer knew he'd be totally fucked around Alastor, Angel and Vaggie, who all seemed to take pure delight in discovering the king of hell was ridiculously ticklish. Why did Charlie have to tell them?

"1..."

Shit. And he was lost in helpless, screech filled laughter. Lucifer had curled into a ball as ten arms and countless tickling fingers dug into almost all his ticklish spots.

"WHAHAHAHAHHAHT THE FUHUHUHCK AHHAH STAHAP!" Lucifer pleaded, knowing it hadn't even been 10 seconds yet.

Alastor had taken the liberty in casting a temporary paralysis spell on Lucifer so he couldn't even protect his worst spots. He had taken this opportunity to also tickle the smaller demon's shoulder blades which shook helplessly as his six magnificent wings unfurled.

Angel and Vaggie started to explore his wings and Lucifer had severely underestimated just how much it would tickle.

"OohoHAHAhaA, IHIHIHT tiHIHihihCkles HAhahHa soHo mUhUHUHUCH AHAhaHa!" Lucifer squealed as Angel and Vaggie had tickled the soft skin beneath his feathers, Angel's extra set of hands had made quick work of his wing pits which caused his laughter to shoot up an octave.

"That's kind of the point, short king," Alastor teased as he had switched to taser his sides while Charlie had been scribbling at his ribs, grinning madly as her plan had seemed now that it could be executed without fail.

Lucifer was in absolute tickle hell. Literally. The sensation of Vaggie and Angel mercilessly tickling his wings, scritching the skin beneath his feathers, digging into the sensitive wing pits and occasionally poking and scratching at his shoulder blades combined with Alastor squeezing his sides and Charlie torturing his ribs had nearly caused Lucifer to break. He couldn't move to protect his tickle spots. And all he could do was laugh and shriek and hope the ticklish assault would end whenever the alloted minute was up.

"I didn't think you'd still be this ticklish!" Charlie cooed.

"OkAYHAHAHhahAH! SEhehee? IHAH- I TOHOAHAHHOLD YOUHOO AHAHhahah it WOHOULD WORK!" Lucifer cackled.

He never had four people tickle him at once before. It was the most ticklish he'd ever felt in his entire life. It wasn't fair to have all his tickle spots exploited at once!

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of cackling, the minute had passed and as promised, Charlie called off the experimental tickle attack. Alastor reversed the spell and Lucifer had crumpled to a giggling panting mess on the floor, overstimulated from all the tickles and trying to rub away the residual ghost tickles.

"So was that 60 seconds of getting your everloving shit rocked, short king?" Angel grins down at Lucifer.

"Seriously, fuck you guys," Lucifer giggles.

"Think this will actually work on Adam?" Vaggie turns to Charlie beaming as she helps her one day father-in-law off the floor.

"It has to!" Charlie says with pure confidence.

"Thanks, dad, for helping us prove our theory to be true. Adam won't stand a chance against us." Charlie hugs the still giggling Lucifer around the middle.

"I don't mind seeing that loser taken down, I'm... glad I could help, but seriously, that was awful," Lucifer says, hugging Charlie back.

"I'll arrange for Adam to arrive here tomorrow and then you can convince him to listen."

●●●●

Adam was irritated. Sure, the king of hell was able to order him to meet in person to discuss business matters, but that didn't mean he wanted to. If it were up to him, he would meet through holographic magic, but Lucifer had strictly forbidden it for this meeting only.

So here he was, at the hotel's doorstep, expecting to meet with Lucifer and returning to report back to heaven as soon as this mandated meeting was concluded.

What Adam wasn't expecting, however, was to be met with Alastor, opening the door positively beaming at him.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel. Why, you must be Adam, we've all been dying to meet you! Well, if it weren't for the fact that we are already dead!" Alastor chuckles at his own joke. "Do come in!"

"Who in the fuck are you?" Adam glares at Alastor, wary of the taller demon.

"Why, I'm Alastor, the infamous radio demon of hell and manager of this fine establishment! Allow me to show you around hell's only rehabilitation center for lost souls!" Alastor grabs Adam's wrist and drags him through the hotel lobby toward the bar.

"Allow Husker to pour you a drink, on the house!" Alastor grins at Adam's sheer befuddlement. He was out of his element here in unfamiliar territory. Husk pours an unmarked liquid into a glass and slides it toward Adam.

"...uh, thanks... but when am I supposed to meet with Lucifer?" Adam looks at the drink as if it were poisonous.

"Don't be a silly! We would never think to poison the one and only angel who had the power to permanently end the exterminations of hell's residents!" Alastor laughs as if he could read Adam's mind.

"And Lucifer will be here soon, but we have other eager candidates to speak with you before hand!" Alastor continues smirking as Adam slowly begins to drink from the glass.

That's when Adam turns and notices Vaggie, Charlie, and Angel behind him, a bit too close for comfort. And suddenly, Adam finds himself unable to move, thanks to Alastor's demonic power and curse of immobility.

"What the actual FUCK, Charlie?" Adam tries to writhe away but is unable to do so.

"Adam, thank you for joining us today! We thought it might take a team approach to convince you that our redemption center deserves a chance to save sinners from extermination," Charlie smiles.

"I already fuckin told you that hell is eternal damnation, I'm not changing my mind and I think that your hotel is a worthless waste of time!" Adam spits angrily.

"Maybe you just need more convincing..." Angel smiles, excited to be able to have one over on this pompous angel prick.

"I said Noho!" Adam let's out a startled Huff as Charlie prods his side near the bottom of his ribs.

"I don't think you're in a position to refuse our quite reasonable requests." Alastor chuckles.

"What are you all playing at?" Adam sneers, albeit nervously.

"Well, we can't harm you, obviously, but we found a rather unconventional method of torture to utilize to convince you to take us seriously," Charlie explains.

Torture? Adam now realized three things.

One: he was outnumbered.

Two: he was completely immobile and couldn't move from whatever power was keeping him trapped.

Three: The poke Charlie had administered to his side had been... well... ticklish... Adam had started to realize that they intended to tickle him. They couldn't. They wouldn't, actually, could they?

"No, no, Charlie. I demand you to release me!"

"Maybe this will help convince you not be such a pompous asshole," Charlie smirked down at Adam evilly.

And suddenly, Adam felt her dig all ten fingers into one of his most ticklish spots, his ribs. And he felt Angel and Alastor tickle into his sensitive shoulder blades, causing his wings to expand.

"Nohohoho, what thehahahhah FUHAHAHAHAHUCK?" Adam squeals.

Vaggie had hopped in to help Charlie tickle his stomach and hips and Adam was in absolute ticklish hell.

"Fuhahahahuck YOHOU GUYS, AHAHAHAHAHA!" Adam can't even squirm away from their torturous fingers. His laughter shoots up an octave as Alastor and Angel tickle into his wings.

No tickle spot was spared on the guy and he couldn't even move or writhe away from the ticklish touches. It wasn't fair!

"Think you'll give the hotel another shot?" Charlie asked, digging sharply into Adam's lower rib cage. Adam's laughter doubled.

"NohohahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Oh shit, Adam! It feels Ike one of your ribs are missing!! Maybe we should count them to see how many are there!" Charlie teases, enjoying how much power they have over Adam.

"FUHUHUCK OHOHOHOHOOFF!" Adam screeches as Charlie proceeds to count and recounts his ribs.

"We've got all day, tough guy!" Angel digs roughly into Adam's wing pits as Alastor digs his claws beneath the feathers to torture the delicate skin beneath. How long had it been? Fifteen minutes? Twenty? Adam quickly realizes that he is utterly fucked.

Adam's laughter goes silent. It's not fair to have them all tickle him to pieces. He couldn't even fight back or try to get away. All he could do was lie there and take it. His eyes begin to water as they continue their ticklish onslaught. And Adam just can't handle much more.

"Think we can renegotiate now?" Charlie asks and Adam quickly nods despite his silent hysteria.

"Okay, I think he's had enough," Charlie slows her hands and pulls them away, and the rest of the group follows suit.

Adam lays there panting giggling, still feeling the ticklish assault through his nervous system.

"I hope you won't forget this, as we are easily able to convince you to do exactly as we want," Alastor chuckles darkly, removing the immobility curse.

"Seriously, fuck you guys," Adam flips them off as he uses his magic to dissappear. His tough guy facade had been broken.

Adam would call off the next extermination, out of fear of what would happen to him if he continued to refuse. Now, his greatest enemies knew of his ticklish weakness. He would never be able to live it down. And maybe a part of him didn't want to.

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antheshewro · 23 days

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Levi Ackerman headcanon — (My) analysis on his intimacy

Each time I wander around Tumblr and I read about how AOT fans picture Levi in a sexual context, I see a lot of fanfictions of him being a dom and a master of sex—very dominant, rough, knows every single position in bed. Given that I respect people's personal headcanons when it comes to characters since those aren't absolutely hurtful to anyone, I felt like sharing my own headcanons on his sexuality.

If we read the manga and analyze Levi's background, there's nothing that tells us that he's a virgin or not. Unless Isayama would say he is (I don't think he specified it, correct me if I'm wrong), there's a big question mark on that matter. What I do believe is that Levi knows about sex. He is, to me, like Sheldon Cooper from The Big bang theory: he knows the basics. The media shows him as a bookworm, which leads me to think that some of his knowledge on that subject came from books that he read during his life. I do picture him as one that he began to read to fight against the picture he had about himself, as an Underground resident; later in life, he began to read because he enjoyed it and it relaxed him.

That being said, just like Sheldon Cooper approached the topic of sex, flirting and dating, Levi knows how men and women would flirt and the purpose behind it for example. He mostly sees it from his comrades and the people in the Underground, but even though he recognizes a certain flirty comment or attitude, it's just that. It's like he would talk about it like he's reading from a manual. That doesn't mean he lacks affection, he's one that always showed that he cares in his own way.

Here it comes the topic of sex. I previously stated that we don't know if Levi is a virgin or not unless Isayama makes it canon. In my honest opinion, he is. During all his life and since he was a kid living and growing up in the Underground, he mostly focused on surviving, filling his stomach and not getting physically abused (just like in the Bad Boy chapter). An important detail, however, is that his mother Kuchel was a prostitute. Now, houses in the Underground were surely cramped and small; think about when Kenny found little Levi, that house was surely small. Or even the scene in Bad Boy where he makes tea; that house most likely had a bedroom, kitchen and living room altogether. If it had other rooms, those were as small as ever. A kitchen that if two people fit inside would get stuck, or a bathroom that was a stall.

When Kuchel had her clients inside her house, I firmly believe she tried to protect her son by letting him hide somewhere. Little Levi learned to recognize the moments where his mother had to work, hiding in a spot where the men she "welcomed" there wouldn't see him or else, they'd leave and that meant no money. No lunch nor dinner. Or worse, some sick men would try to have his way with him (remember in Bad Boy when those men talked about him having the same "skills" as his mother and wanted to sell him? Also, he didn't seem to be unaware about what they were talking about. That means Levi knew about what his mom's job was).

Kuchel would teach little Levi to hide, cover his ears and wait until she was done. But sometimes, as we know, men are brutal with prostitutes. She got some violent ones, and as much as she tried to keep quiet, Levi would hear her. And when he would see how those men were doing to poor Kuchel, he got traumatized. He heard their lewd words, their slurs and curses, and that got Levi permanently traumatized. From that moment on, he would see sex as violence, pain, something hurtful. No matter if he would educate himself on the matter, the wounds would always be fresh. He got so sick of that scenery, that it was like something switched in him. With him joining the Scouts and everything he went through while being a soldier, he – of course – focused on his job and the people he unfortunately lost up until the final battle.

In terms of approach to his own sexual desires, I see him being conflicted. He's a man, a human being; he got aroused at least once, to me. But that would be it. He knows what his body is trying to tell him, but indulging in self pleasure would be just because he feels too overwhelmed by it. As if he feels itchy and needs to scratch.

He surely had women flirting and throwing themselves at him. Just like he said to Zeke, he had a few successes with ladies. But that didn't mean he slept with them; again, he could recognize he was popular and some shamelessly drooled after him. He knows what dates are (he said, somewhere in the manga, "hot titan date" which if we want to be obnoxiously meticulous, that means he knows what a date is. Oh well).

This is just a little rant and random headcanon I wanted to share after quite a long time of pondering if it was a good idea or not. Once more: that's just my personal headcanon on Levi. Feel free to agree, disagree or share your own if you want 🩵

#aot #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin #aot headcanons #attack on titan headcanons #snk headcanons #shingeki no kyojin headcanons #levi #levi ackerman #levi headcanons #levi ackerman headcanons #my headcanons #levi ackerman headcanon #levi headcanon #snk headcanon #shingeki no kyojin headcanon #aot headcanon #attack on titan headcanon

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daisynik7 · 1 year

Text

Iris

And I don't want the world to see me, ‘cause I don't think that they'd understand. When everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am.

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x f!reader

Rating: Mature – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~4.5k (I went way over than I was supposed to, lol)

cw: switching POVs (2nd person reader, 3rd person Eren), canon-universe, VERY canon-divergent, consider this a what-if scenario, major AOT spoilers up to season 4, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl position), fingering

Summary: At the Battle of Fort Slava, Eren Jaeger, hell-bent on launching his ultimate attack on Marley, injures himself to pose as a wounded soldier, granting him admittance to the hospital to finalize his plans. You, an Eldian volunteer working at the hospital, start treating this new patient, nervous about his mysterious demeanor. Eventually, you learn that you have much more in common with each other than you think.

Author’s Note: Thank you @ichinosejager13 for your second request for the y2k karaoke party! I did something totally different this time; I wrote a fic set in the canon universe. I thought it fit well with this song, so I hope you like it! While it’s set in the canon universe, it is very obviously canon divergent, so please remember I took a lot of liberties with this. I am in no way suggesting that any of this is what I wish happened in canon. I just think it was an interesting idea to write. Also, I understand that this will seem very out-of-character for Eren, but let’s just roll with it because it's all in good fun, lol.

Like, reblogs, and/or comments are ALWAYS appreciated! Thank you for reading! MDNI banner by @/cafekitsune.

Fort Slava, huddled in the trenches. Blade through his leg, bullet in his eye. This is the last vivid memory Eren can recall as he stands in line outside the hospital, waiting to be admitted. Some asshole Marleyan imitates explosion sounds, causing all of those around him to fall to the ground, cowering in fear. They suffer trauma from the battlefield, and even Eren, with a clear conscious now, is affected by it. A kid, another Eldian dawning the same yellow armband as he is, steps towards them, kneeling down to help them up. He even assists Eren, correcting his armband to his left arm instead of the right. Luckily, it goes unnoticed by everyone else, which is exactly what he wants.

It's all part of his plan; the attack on Marley. It’s been in the works for months now, starting with his infiltration of the army, fighting alongside Marleyans and Eldians alike. He thought he’d have better clarity of the situation, maybe get convinced to call the whole thing off after bonding with other solders through the tragedies of violence and war. Unfortunately, it’s only made him realize how much more he needs to follow through with it. Nothing will ever change in this cruel world unless he’s the one to do it.

There are days when he gets cold feet. He’s tempted to re-evaluate, find a way back to his home of Paradis, reunite with his friends, devise a better plan and figure it out together. But in all the futures Eren can see, his current plan is the only one that will work. The only one that will grant him the freedom he’s been chasing his entire life.

The process is slow to get a room in the hospital. Luck remains on Eren’s side when he’s assigned a private room. It’s barren; a single-bed, just long enough to accommodate his stature, withered sheets and rusted iron on the frame. There’s a small nightstand beside it with two drawers to hide his belongings, which is essentially nothing, and atop is a small lamp, illuminating the room in a dreary glow. It’s not luxurious, but it’s enough for the time-being. Because that’s all Eren needs right now: time.

Eventually, Zeke will find him. They’ve been contacting each other for a while now, and Eren has a firm grasp on what his older brother is trying to convince him to do with the Founder’s power. While he doesn’t agree with his idea to euthanize the entire race of Eldians, Eren needs to entertain it long enough to manipulate Zeke into letting him use his royal blood.

It's all convoluted and fucked up, he’s aware of that. Somedays, he wishes he could escape this curse without doing anything at all. That one day, he’d be gone from this world, liberated from his Titan power, saved from this burdened life. This isn’t what he imagined while reading all those books he and Armin would marvel at as kids. This isn’t the freedom he was hoping for.

He rests in his pathetic, yet oddly comforting bed, staring up at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. His leg and eye are still wrapped in bandages, so a nurse should be coming soon to check on him. There’s a faint commotion out in the hallway, but Eren is too lazy and too uninterested to investigate. Soon, it subsides, and the door swings open, revealing a women around his age, wearing a nurses uniform and the yellow Eldian patch on her left arm. He recognizes the attire from battle; the army had a few nurses stationed at the fort for casualties.

“Mr. Kruger?” she asks.

It takes him a second to remember the alias he decided to use. He confirms it, nodding his head silently.

She gives him a warm smile, introducing herself. “I’ll be helping you from now on.”

~~~

You started working at the hospital a few months ago. For Eldians, it’s nearly impossible to be accepted into higher education, so nursing school was never an option. With opportunities so scarce, your best bet was to apply for a volunteer position at the hospital in hopes of using that as a steppingstone for an actual paying job. You don’t expect a promotion any time soon, not even in the near future, but at least you’re spending your time helping others.

While it’s rewarding, it isn’t glamorous or pretty in the slightest bit. Because you lack the proper education, your tasks mostly include bathing, feeding, cleaning up any accidents or messes. Occasionally, if your patient is open to it, you spend time with them chatting, doing activities with them, listening to their stories. This is rare, though. Most that are admitted are Marleyans who refuse to speak to you because of your status. Some are even reluctant to have you help them in the first place. The Eldians, sadly, are usually too traumatized to open up, so you do your best to make them comfortable however you can.

When you meet your newest patient, Eren Kruger, you don’t expect him to be any different from the rest. You are, however, surprised at how young he is; he can’t be any older than you, judging by his appearance. His records show nothing except for his name and his status as an Eldian, which isn’t unusual, so you don’t think much of it. “Mr. Kruger, I know you must be hungry,” you start. “Lunch will be arriving soon. If you need assistance, I’ll be here to help you.”

He acknowledges you with another curt nod, remaining silent. You can’t help but notice how brilliantly green his eyes are. Have you ever seen irises like his before? You let the inappropriate thought vanish quickly before you ask, “Would you like me to bathe you now or after you eat?”

At this, his brows tighten. “Bathe?”

“Yes, Mr. Kruger. We can bathe you before or after lunch, it’s up to you – ”

“I don’t want to bathe,” he says, avoiding your gaze.

You blink at him, unsure how to respond. “Surely you must want to be clean – ”

He interrupts you again, muttering, “How can I, when I’m like this?”

You understand his hesitation now, not needing further explanation. Sometimes, patients with missing limbs have expressed concern submerging themselves in a tub full of water, not wanting to get their bandages wet. Quickly, you clarify, “It would be a sponge bath. We can do that while you’re lying in bed, actually. And your bandages will stay intact.”

This seems to be the answer he’s looking for. His expression relaxes when he says, “After. I want to do it after I eat.”

You smile softly at him, noting it on your checkboard. “Understand. I’ll go check on your meal now. Is there anything else you need from me?”

A beat passes before he replies, “Pen and paper. For letters.”

You write it, reminding yourself to bring it when you return with his meal. “Got it.”

A few minutes later, you return with a tray of food along with a wad of paper and two pens. You set it on his nightstand beside him, waiting for him to move it. When he doesn’t, staying still, staring blankly at the foot of the bed, you clear your throat. “Mr. Kruger?”

“I’m not hungry,” he murmurs.

“But you haven’t eaten all day. You need nourishment if you’re going to get any better.”

“And who says I want to get better?” He glares at you, startled by the intensity in his gaze.

You swallow hard, nervous, but still resilient. “You have to eat. You owe it to yourself after what you’ve been through.”

“And how would you know what I’ve been through?” His voice is steady, a hint of venom, barely enough to sting. But you’re determined. You sit at the edge of the bed, careful not to touch him. Reaching for the tray, you set it down on your lap, sighing. “I don’t know. I have no idea what war is like out there. All I know is that it’s not great for us here. At least out there, you’re fighting together as a unit. Marleyan, Eldian, it doesn’t matter. You’re working to defeat our enemy. And who knows? If we ever win the war, maybe life will be better for us here.” You shove the tray towards him, glaring back at him. “So the least you could do is try to see it through and survive, right?”

He studies you carefully, contemplating how to respond. Glancing at the tray in front of him, he smirks, scooping a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. You ease up, tension releasing from your shoulders.

After a few more bites, he speaks. “Who do you think the enemy is?”

Just when you thought you were in the clear, he asks you another question. “It was the Mid-East Allies. That’s who you fought at Fort Slava.”

“But who do you think the real enemy is?” He’s finished with his potatoes, now moving on to his meatloaf.

“Well, I suppose it’s whoever the government says it is.” You’re unsure what kind of answer he’s searching for.

“And if they say that we’re the enemy, then what?” He points between you, leaving you confused.

“We…?”

“Eldians. Devils.”

“No, no. The Devils are on the island. We’re…we’re not like them.”

“Are you sure?” He stuffs the rest of the meat into his mouth, chewing and swallowing it all down. “What makes you think you’re any better here than you are there?”

Your face feels hot now, and you start to stammer. “Because…because that’s what we were told. We’re on the right side. They’re on the wrong.”

His plate is nearly clean now. He slides his fingers on the remnants, licking it off before chugging half a glass of water. “What if I told you there’s a place for people like us? A place where you wouldn’t have to walk around with an armband. A place where you were treated fairly. Would you want to go to a place like that?”

You feel yourself drawn in by his words. The idea of it sounds impossible. Ever since you were born, you were taught to know your place in this world. That place was here in Marley, destined to be a second-class citizen. You were told that the island across the sea was full of devils like you, but because you’re here, you’re better. You can’t deny that you’ve been curious what life is like out there. All this time, you thought it must be worst, secluded on an island, hated by the rest of the world.

But is this life any better? Secluded in your own community and still hated by the rest of the world?

You pick the tray up from his lap, muttering, “I’ll go get your sponge bath ready.”

He doesn’t add anything else, watching you silently. You walk towards the door, ready to leave. Before you do, you say, “And to answer your question: I would.”

~~~

It was supposed to be innocent banter, that’s what Eren intended. He figured he could chalk it up to the trauma speaking for him, that she wouldn’t even be remotely interested in what he had to say. He thought she’d be like all the other naïve, brainwashed Eldians, ignorantly believing everything that was told to them. He realizes soon enough that he was wrong to underestimate her.

She comes to him every day, fulfilling her volunteer duties. Their daily routine begins with breakfast, then a morning stroll in his wheelchair out in the courtyard. Sometimes they’ll play chess at one of the tables, sometimes it’s checkers. Lunchtime comes, and then it’s time for a bath, one of Eren’s favorite parts of the day. Her hands are always gentle, gliding along his skin with a damp sponge. They’ll do another stroll outside, this time on his crutches, where he practices how to walk. Dinner arrives when it’s already dark out, and occasionally, he’ll ask her to read the latest news from the paper.

While all this happens, they talk. They talk a lot.

As expected, she figures out that Eren is from Paradis, though he bends the truth about his true intentions for being here. She doesn’t know about his Titan powers, thinking he’s a refugee seeking sanctuary here. Surprisingly, she isn’t offended about it; in fact, she’s curious. They spend most of their time together sharing stories of their childhood. Eren describes life in Paradis, she describes life in Marley. While there are stark differences between their upbringings, there are also blatant similarities. And together, they come to the gut-wrenching conclusion: Eldians are terrorized wherever they are, whether it’s here, or across the sea.

Eren has only sent one letter in the past two weeks, and that was to his friends back home, informing them that he is in Marley, safe and sound. He doesn’t disclose his plan to them yet. In all honestly, he’s not sure what the plan is anymore. Zeke still hasn’t found him, nor has Eren gone out of his way to be found. What Eren does know is that he enjoys spending time with the woman who helps him. So much that he’s losing grip on what he’s supposed to be doing here. He has to do something soon.

It comes to a head one night, three weeks after he was admitted to the hospital. Eren requests for another sponge bath after dinner; it was a hot day and he worked up a sweat during their afternoon walk. She helps him strip his shirt off, starting with the wet, warm sponge at his chest, massaging small circles onto his sticky skin. He watches her carefully, noticing her eyes lingering on his body more so than usual.

He speaks softly into her ear, leaning in close. “I have something to tell you.”

She continues above his waist, hands gently scrubbing, not bothering to look at him when she responds. “What is it, Eren?”

He’s thought about this all day. The plan. “Would you like to visit Paradis?”

This time, she does look at him, confused. “What?”

Louder now, and more confident, he says, “Come to Paradis with me. See what it’s like there.”

She scoffs. “I can’t just leave.”

“Why not?”

“Because this is my home.”

“They treat you like nothing here,” he argues. “At Paradis, you’re somebody. We can be safe at Paradis.”

She stops, tossing the sponge into the bucket of water beside her, frustrated. “Safe? After everything you’ve told me? You said it yourself; you’ve been terrorized by Titans since you were a kid. Every nation in the world wants Paradis gone. How can it be safe?”

He swallows thickly, gripping her hand delicately in his. “I can’t explain everything right now, but I have a plan. We have a plan.” He recalls one of the last memories he has of Armin, his brilliant friend, suggesting a small-scale Rumbling, enough to scare the rest of the world from attacking Paradis for centuries. He dismissed it quickly then, but now, he considers it. Could this be their best option? Instead of the billions of casualties Eren had originally devised? “You just have to trust me for now. Once we’re there, I can explain everything.”

She stares at him, clearly in shock from his suggestion. He doesn’t blame her. Eren is asking her to give up everything she knows.

“Eren,” she starts, squeezing his hand tighter. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

He smiles at her, brushing his thumb across her knuckles delicately. “I understand. I know it’s a big ask, and I shouldn’t have expected you to say yes. I just…I just think I know what I can do for Paradis to make it safe for people like us. Somewhere we can be ourselves, where people will know us for who we are, and not for what they see on our armbands.”

“It sounds like paradise,” she says quietly.

“It does. And I think I could make it that way. I know I can.”

She sighs, retrieving the sponge again. “I want to believe you, Eren. But I don’t think I can throw away my life for something I’m unsure of.” She starts to slide his pants off, ready to wash below his waist.

“Please, just consider it. I plan to leave soon, within the next few days. I just have to send out a letter tomorrow, and I should be ready to go.”

“You’re leaving? Already?”

“I know what I have to do now. I can’t waste any more time when we can end this war now.”

She peers at him, tears welling in her eyes. “I…”

“What is it?” He sits up, leaning in close to cup her cheek, brushing away her falling tears.

“Will we ever see each other again?” Her voice is trembling, lips quivering. His heart sinks into his stomach, seeing her like this.

He presses his forehead to hers. “I’ll find you when this is all over. I promise you. Whatever you do, don’t go anywhere near the shore, okay?” The small-scale Rumbling should only affect the fleets, which will be in the middle of the ocean, far from the shore. Still, he can’t risk anything happening to her. Not when he isn’t there to protect her.

She nods, not asking for any further explanation. He presses a small kiss to her forehead. “I’m going to do whatever it takes to bring us peace.”

~~~

Eren asks you to drop off a letter in the mailbox, addressed to someone named Azumabito. Apparently, she is an ally to Eldians who is stationed here in Marley, so she can arrange a ship for him to head back home.

There are still so many questions left unanswered, though you decide not to ask them. Maybe it’s foolish to trust someone you’ve only known for a month. But Eren has given you more truth about this harsh world that anyone else the entire time you’ve been here. And he’s the only one who’s ever promised you a better life.

Two days after you mailed the letters, you receive a response. It’s addressed to you, though you’re sure it’s meant for Eren. There’s a fancy insignia stamped to one corner of the envelope: a circle with a triangle in the center, formed by samurai swords. You keep it safe in your pocket as you head for the kitchen, ready to deliver Eren’s dinner.

He reads it when he’s finished with his meal. You watch as he scans the letter carefully, mouthing a few words under his breath. When he reaches the end, he looks up at you, a small grin on his face. “She’s arranged a ship for tomorrow morning, before sunrise.”

You gasp, surprised at how soon his departure is. “Tomorrow?”

He nods, folding the letter and tucking it beneath his pillow.

You let out a deep breath, unsure what else to say. Noticing your quiet demeanor, he reaches for your hand to hold it. “I know this is happening so fast. But I’ve never been more certain about what I need to do until now.” He interlocks his fingers with yours, smiling. “And you helped me with that.”

“Me? How?”

“By being you. By giving me a chance to explain myself. Even when you found out I was from Paradis, you didn’t judge me. You got to know me. It showed me that there are people, good people, on this side. That even in a ruthless place like this, there is beauty to be saved.”

You don’t say anything, throat too heavy with emotion to respond. Blinking away your tears, you take his tray from his lap, walking quickly to the door. Before you can leave, he asks, “Can you please come back to help me shave?”

Without turning to face him, you nod, exiting his room, stifling your sobs on your way down the hallway. Your heart yearns for more time with him. For the past few weeks, being here has been an escape from your painful reality. You’re not seen as an Eldian, you aren’t considered a second-class citizen. With him, you’re just you.

You know that you can’t keep him caged here forever. Like a bird, he’s ready to spread his wings. He’s ready to be free. While you’re heartbroken to see him leave, you’re thrilled for him to fulfill his destiny. All you can hope is that one day, you’ll be reunited in a better place than here.

You return to his room a couple of minutes later with everything you need to give him a close shave. His facial hair has grown out quite a bit since he arrived. You lather his face with a small amount of soap, scrubbing the suds off with a warm, wet towel. He closes his eyes, indulging in your relaxing touch. After mindful preparation, you begin to shave his goatee with a straight razor, pulling his skin taut, gliding the blade carefully across his chin, cleaning it after every stroke. When you’re done with his beard, you focus your attention on his mustache, delicately moving the razor until his skin is smooth and shaven. You smile as you wipe off any remaining residue with the towel.

With everything discarded into the bucket of water set on the nightstand, you take this time to admire his face, memorizing every detail. The flutter of his lashes, the bridge of his nose, the sharpness of his jawline, the plush of his lips. It’s only now that you realize how close to him you are. You’re kneeling beside him on the bed, noses almost touching, your fingers grazing his smooth skin. He opens his eyes to look at you, and his breath hitches at the intimacy, glancing at your mouth.

Before you can move, he closes the short distance, kissing you on the lips. As quickly as it happens, he pulls away, blushing. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I should have asked first. I’m sorry – ”

You cut him off with another kiss, hungry for more. It’s his last day; in mere hours from now, he’ll be gone, and you’re not sure when you’ll see him again, if ever. It’s crossed your mind many times by now, how it would feel to be with him like this. The feeling of his lips on yours, the slide of his tongue in your mouth, the taste of his spit. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you’ve never thought about it. In fact, it’s been on your mind every night as you fall asleep, wishing you were in his arms instead of alone in your bed.

He doesn’t pull away this time, sinking in deeper, slipping inside your mouth to swirl his tongue with yours. He’s just as sweet as you fantasized he’d be, luscious and rich in your mouth. His skin is smooth against your fingertips, tracing his jawline. One hand slides around your waist, tugging you closer to him, the other wraps around the nape of your neck, holding your head steady. You swing one leg over him, straddling his lap, hoisting the hem of your dress past your hips, revealing your panties. He moans, shifting beneath you in the bed to slip his trousers down, displaying his erection bulging in his underwear.

“Is this okay?” he huffs, catching his breath. His voice wavers, his only visible eye half-lidded with arousal, unable to keep his cool.

“Yes,” you answer, grinding yourself on him, kissing him sloppily. His grip is on your hips, guiding you to rut against his cock faster. The friction between you is enough to make you wet, your slick soaking through the fabric.

“You’re an angel,” he whispers, dragging your bottom lip between his teeth. “I want to make you feel good.” His thumb teases the elastic of your waistband, hand slipping inside to rub your clit against his fingers.

“Eren,” you moan, his sensual touch sending waves of pleasure through your body. He slowly slides two digits inside you, massaging your bud with his palm while he pumps his fingers into your sopping cunt. His cock is stiff beneath you, watching you ride his hand, cursing under his breath until you reach your climax, coating him in your arousal.

You’re breathing heavily, in a daze from your orgasm. He removes his hand from you, slipping it past his underwear to jerk his cock. You reach for him, tugging his bottoms down his legs, replacing his fist with yours, stroking him eagerly. He whispers your name, bucking his hips in tandem with your movements. You’re aching for more, desperate to feel him inside you, feel him deeper. You position yourself correctly, pulling the crotch of your panties to the side to tease the head of his cock up and down your folds. He sits up on his elbows, watching you with a nervous expression on his face. “Are you sure?” he asks.

You nod, smiling at him. “I’m sure. I want to be close to you, Eren.”

He swears, letting his head fall back into the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. You sink down on him, his dick stretching you out smoothly, still sleek from your previous orgasm. He moans, craning his neck to take in the lewd sight before him. “Oh my god,” he groans, thrusting his hips into you.

You ride him slowly, his entire length filling you up to the brim. He plants his feet into the mattress to fuck you deeper, the metal frame creaking with every thrust. It doesn’t take long until you’re both coming together. He shoots his load inside you while you gush all over him, creating a wet mess between you that you couldn’t care less about in the euphoric state you’re in. You lift off him, rolling to his side, relaxing into the pillow with him beside you, cradling you in his arms. He gives you a smooch on the cheek, nuzzling his nose with yours. “I meant what I said earlier.”

“What?”

“You really are an angel,” he says, smiling at you.

~~~

Eren wakes up alone, and he’s almost convinced that it was all a dream until he spots the small note scribbled on paper laying his nightstand.

It’s too hard to say goodbye, so I won’t. I trust you to keep your promise. We’ll see each other again soon.

With daybreak approaching, Eren leaves for the docks quickly with only the clothes on his back and letters in his pocket, including hers. With sunrise teasing the horizon, he makes it to the meeting place just in time. He recognizes Azumabito and greets her, explaining the situation as they board the ship. She informs him that they are waiting for several other passengers, so he makes himself comfortable by a window.

A few minutes pass and one of the crew approaches him. “Mr. Jaeger, there is a woman trying to board, claiming they are with you. Do you know anything about this?”

He glances out the window towards the docks and to his shock, he sees an angel with a suitcase in hand, talking to Azumabito. His heart races, overjoyed as he jumps out of his seat, sprinting out of the ship to meet her.

#eren smut #eren yeager #eren jaeger #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x you #eren yeager smut #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x you #aot smut #attack on titan smut #attack on titan fanfiction #eren fanfiction #y2k karaoke party #milestone event

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fungus-no69 · 4 months

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School LIs x Pc/Reader (x Ivory Wraith)

You/your pronouns for pc, they/them pronouns for LIs, pc is mentioned to be uncanny and strange looking in general, pc is POSSESSED!!! by the IVORY WRAITH!!!!! attempted harassment by Whitney (it fails), burns in Sydney's, mentions of Kylar's parents (maybe spoilery???)

You're never really... here. Always a bit dazed with a faraway look in your eye, yet an alertness to you that means it can't just be disassociation or anything like that.

They see you talking to the mirror a lot, or if not, looking into alleys like you're supposed to be seeing something other than the knocked over bins and occasional stray. Even at the lake in the forest, you're crouched at the edge of it as water licks at your shoes. Sometimes, the shadows seem to warp around you or maybe, your eyes are just a bit too wide to be normal. Something about the way your knuckles jut out too far or even the way that your lip movements don't completely match up with what you're saying.

Sometimes they see you wandering around the street, like a puppet. Clumsy and artificial. If anyone did see your face in those times they'd comment on the vibrant, unnatural blue of your eyes. Or how your skin seems to lose any warmth in its undertones, or maybe the way that you hum to yourself- pressing a hand to your chest and holding onto your pyjama shirt.

Robin

They're incredibly concerned that they hadn't noticed before they woke up to seeing you climb out of your window???

Even when you disappear and only appear after a whole day- looking even more out of it than usual and covered in water and some... other sort of substance that Robin just doesn't want to think too hard about

They just assume that's another weird thing you do along with the... everything else.

Look they had reason to believe it's just normal 'you' behaviour okay!

They check on you each blood moon from then on, even offering for you to stay in their room at the end of each month.

If they see you trying to leave out of the window again they may panic and grab you- looking at your face and being chilled by your hollow expression, a smile that makes them uneasy crawling up your face as a voice that's not yours repeats their name

"Robin Robin Robin Robin"

'You' slip out of their grasp before they can react- disappearing behind the windowsill. They probably almost scream before seeing you're fine at the bottom.

They can't help you before you're gone, you'll probably return in the morning anyway.

Whitney

This bitch ass motherfucker was probably skulking around the alleyways when they saw you staggering towards Nightingale street

They popped up behind you and grabbed your shoulders- hoping to make you squeal.

You didn't.

Simply continued walking.

Whitney just shrugged it off after a second of sulking, adding it to their internal list of your oddities (No they don't think of you often shut up)

They keep following you, teasing, mocking, sexual innuendos- you name it.

They pause when they see you take a beeline into the forest because what the fuck? No one except for tourists and people with a death wish go there (especially on a blood moon)

They're not superstitious per se but everyone and their fucking grandmother knows that what you're doing is a bad idea.

They grab your elbow and finally get a good look at your face, blank expression with unfocused blue eyes that look out of place on you.

For a moment they think they've been following the wrong person around. But that's impossible because they know what their slut looks like!

They open their mouth, probably to insult you or make a comment but nothing comes out when you start repeating their name with a manic grin.

They stumble when you wrench away, breaking into a sprint into the underbrush.

They go to follow you but you're already gone.

Sydney

They instinctively know something's wrong when they wake up to you shambling out of the temple's pews

They know you're strange, that something's wrong with you on a good day! But this is a whole new level.

Even as goosebumps raise on the nape of their neck, something about you seems familiar. A lingering sense of deja vu keeping them from moving.

They manage to stand up after a minute, limbs feeling heavier with each step they make towards you. Even if they tried, they wouldn't be able to sleep now. The air is stifling and wrong.

You shriek when their necklace brushes your skin as they lean closer, it leaves a torrefied blue mark where it made contact.

Yeah no. That is not normal.

Even without their necklace scalding you, your scream leaves their ears ringing and their head pounding with agony. They can't hear themself over the sound of their heartbeat, bile rises in their throat and they can't process anything but the feeling of hands so cold they burn and the image of cobalt that sears itself into their mind no matter where they look or how hard they squeeze their eyes closed.

They must have been making some kind of noise though, because when they come to- they're kneeling on the floor in between pews with Jordan's hands on their shoulders and you're nowhere to be seen.

Kylar

They were already following you as soon as they realised that you seemed even more off than usual

Somewhat similar to their parents before they became... whatever they are now.

They don't want you to end up like that! So they fight their body's urge to flee and appear at your elbow- you don't flinch, as per usual.

They hope their presence soothes you, it doesn't. You don't look as bad as they were imagining but their skin is becoming clammy just by being around you. And not in the normal way either!

They start to blabber to you, hoping to get your attention but you don't even spare them a glance! Now you're starting to freak them out.

They try to look at you properly, closer. They don't like what they see.

Blue eyes fixed in front of you, pallid cheeks, blue lips. Your eyes flick down for less than a second before a grin curls onto your lips and you grab them, calling their name

They love it when you say their name but not like that! Not when your voice echoes in their ears and makes their mouth go dry.

As much as their nails dig into your arms and they grasp as hard as they can, you manage to slip away- like their hands just... phased through somehow.

As much as they want to- need to chase you, their feet are rooted to the floor like something's holding them there. They can't do anything but watch as you depart into the forest.

They know that something was wrong! You wouldn't run away from them right? Yeah! That must be it! Something's taken control of you somehow!

They're not sure which idea makes their stomach churn more.

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thedivineflowers · 1 year

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I'm feeling angsty 😈

Imagine like Middle schooler!reader goes back to their world and like everyone still thinks they're there.

Like they hear some shouting and running they'll think it's you considering you do that the most.

When Riddle sees a silhouette play with the hedgehogs he'd think it was you until he got a closer look and it was just one of the residents:(

Whenever Trey is baking late at night and he hears someone open the door he'll think it's you because you would always come by to grab at what ingredients he'd have.

You'd always be the first to like Caters post and put some unhinged shit in the comments so when someone else does it to his posts after you've left he turns sour :(

Ace and Deuce would always stop by Ramshackle to have sleepovers with you and Grim and when they just see Grim they try to brush it off like it doesn't affect them but it does :(((

When Leona always hears footsteps near him when he's in the garden he'd always push his tail away and make room because to skip class you'd always go and cuddle up next to him but when he doesn't smell you his nap is ruined and he'd go to his room and just lay there.

When Ruggie goes to eat lunch he always looks for you so you two could go and steal stuff and when he plays with the dog of Savannaclaw alone he remembers that you left :(

When Jack would go on his morning runs he would hope that you would join him or send him one of those little motivational quotes like he would always send because you found them funny but when he doesn't hear from you he'd try and call you and when it went to voicemail he remembered that you went back

Whenever Azul worked late at night you'd drop by and sleep in his office to keep him company or tell him weird ass facts and mess with the fish but when he looks up with a hopeful face to Jade and not you he had to bear the fact that you'd no longer be there

When the twins would work they'd hope to see you join them but when they close up the lounge and have to feed the fish alone they get reminded that you left

When Kalim gets lonely he'd always call you but when it went to voicemail he'd get just a thought and when he looks at your room in the Scarabia Dorm only to see it cold and filled with extra junk that the other dorm members were too lazy to put away properly he gets sad

When Jamil would make food and serve it to Kalim he'd expect to see you there sometimes but after a month he would lose hope and he would brush it away so he could tend to Kalim

Vil would expect to see you around the halls at least twice a day but when he doesn't see you be would ask but then he would get told that you got sent back and he'd have to hide his sadness for later

Rook would always be tracking students around you to look for you but when he overhears a conversation about your leaving he would remember and would just look at the pictures that he took of you over time and at the bow and arrow he wanted to gift you.

When Epel overhears a fight going on he'd always check to see if it was you but it would always be another student and when he gets into fights you wouldn't be there or join him and cheer him on so he ends up losing his motivation and would leave the beat up students.

When the shroud brothers are hanging out in their room and hear a knock on their door they would think it was you but it was just another student calling them because they had to go to a meeting or something and it wasn't you just wanting to join them

When Malleus walks to the dorm he would hope to see you outside already waiting for him but when he sees no one he would walk inside to dorm only to see Grim on the bed cuddled up in a blanket he'd leave and stay in his room for hours at a time as the sky turns dark and stormy

When Lilia plays games late at night and he sees someone join him he'd always look at the user to see if it was you but it would always be someone else. And when he tries to scare what he thought was you it would always be someone else and he'd have to just put away his sadness and try to bring up the other threes mood while he's mourning the absence of who he felt was another child of his :(

When silver falls asleep sometimes he'd mostly hope to see you wake him up and bring him to where he needed to be but it would always be another student or a teacher and he'd always sleep with a plush you got him nearby or else he'd be tossing and turning all night

When Sebek goes around after he'd finishing his duties tending to Malleus and he hears yelling he'd think it would be you and would run over with excitement only to see it was another student just being rowdy

Grim would always be cold at night by himself in the dorm and tried looking into books to make a portal and try to get into your world so he could be with you again

And then when you're out and about you'd almost always think someone from your world was one of the students but it was always just a stranger passing by and that would bring your mood down because you'd have no one to talk to and all the other kids would just push you away because you were 'too loud' or 'too weird' :(

(mc has magic here)

Imagine you get really sad and you accidentally open up a portal in your mirror so when you look at the mirror to see your current self you see the inside of Ramshackle and you don't believe it until you touch the mirror and your hand goes through :)

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olderthannetfic · 9 months

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A common anti talking point is that "problematic" content is fine as long as it's portrayed in a bad light, and I know this is mostly a way for them to say "porn bad", but, like... if we exclude stupidity, is this even a common issue at all?

I try to think of what they could otherwise mean, because I read a lot of things they'd hate, but even the cutesy stuff has dark undertones, or is clearly done with the reader meant to understand that at least one character involved is a freak. Even with porn, I'm not sure I've seen many that didn't lean into how taboo it is. The closest trend I can think of is age gap romances where the protagonist is 16 and going for someone in their 30s, but even those make sure you're extremely aware of the age difference the entire time since that's the appeal. Or an anime where the siblings are REALLY close and no one comments, but as a viewer I can still clearly pick up that these are codependent freaks.

Is this a me thing? Do I just not see these swarms of insidious positive portrayals and they're actually everywhere? I don't doubt there are bad writers that fumble their stories, and I'm less likely to read those long enough to find out, so is that what they're referring to? Or is it really always just porn is evil?

No, people being dumb as a box of rocks and not grasping that weird internet porn is not a how-to manual is not that common a problem.

However, being traumatized and having zero useful mental health support is.

A lot of anti talking points are coming from a place of toxic coping. mechanisms where someone thinks that if they can just control everything around them The Bad Thing can't happen again, to them or to anyone else.

Blaming the influence of bad fiction is a very common step for people who haven't had enough time or safety to accept that, no, actually, the person they trusted hurt them on purpose because they felt like it, not because Media Made Them Do It.

Or that maybe their dumb teen self handled some situations badly, but it's because teens often do that and/or because no decent adult was around to ask them why they seemed upset, not because it was fiction's job to teach them boundaries. It's a lot easier to blame the concrete experience of reading something that modeled bad behavior than the highly amorphous negative space where good offline role models who paid attention and gave a fuck should have been.

Some people are self-medicating with a rage high. A few are nasty ringleaders trying to power trip. Lots are just scared dumbasses who haven't grasped that it's okay to have dark fantasies.

A lot of it is just people with the hubris to say "Well, I have decent reading comprehension and can spot subtext, but what if all these other people can't?"

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bloodycyrano · 1 month

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K, so I'm in a depressive episode, and I'm craving chocolate. Nobody probably cares, but here's what type of chocolate members of Team Tadpole prefer and how I think they'd react to receiving it as a gift! This is purely headcannons, and I haven't been able to play the game in a few months, so if I get something wrong, don't be mad at me, lol.

Shadowheart: She absolutely adores dark chocolate, and she's absolutely one of those pretentious fuckers who hate milk chocolate, and take anything other than 90-100% cacao as an insult on their fucking bloodline. She does think that she's better than you for liking Dark chocolate- This does not change if she gets her 'good' ending.

If you bring her her favorite type of chocolate, she will not only be impressed but grateful. I feel like she probably has chronic migraines or something and would enjoy sharing it with you some late night with a bottle of wine and a charcuterie board. Probably making flower crowns or feeding animals in a meadow, basic cottagecore lesbian romance stuff. I could be wrong, I've never romanced Shadowheart, but it's just a gut feeling.

Karlach: Karlach likes milk chocolate best, and doesn't see the point in putting up with something bitter just because some people think it's 'better'. More than anything, it reminds her of her mums baking, back when she was a kid. Chocolate is expensive and hard to get your hands on, but by god when the holidays came around or her birthday, I feel like her mum would've baked her the best cookies or chocolate chip muffins after working extra hard to afford it.

Karlach would love whatever type of chocolate you gave her, but I think especially if you brought her hot chocolate or chocolate chip cookies/Muffins/etc, she might even tear up a little. After all, she hasn't had something like that since her mom died.

Wyll: Wyll is a proud enjoyer of chocolate in general, but actually seems to favor white chocolate and dark chocolate the best. He likes to enjoy the contrast in flavors.

I feel like Wyll would just be grateful to be given chocolates, and wouldn't care much what form they came in. He'd probably invite you to enjoy them alongside him, and simply spend time with one another. I do believe he loves dark hot chocolate with whipped cream, and would probably try to set up a day to go to his favorite cafe in baldurs gate for hot chocolate, to return the favor. It's a treat for him, too, since he hasn't been there since his father cast him out. It'll bring a wave of nostalgia, and maybe some unkind memories.. But he will feel happy to be there. Especially to be there with you. And maybe, it'll become a much more common thing.

Astarion: I feel like he prefers dark chocolate, if he's able to eat it at all (I don't remember how vampires work in DnD.)..

If he can't eat it, I feel like he'd miss it.. the simple things. Pleasures like imported chocolates. He might go on a monologue about things he enjoyed as a Mortal that he no longer can.-.. If he can, however, eat chocolate.. I think he'd be surprised. Surprised you thought of him, surprised you spent the money, surprised you wanted to give him anything at all. I think he'd be very happy, but he probably wouldn't want to show it. He'd brush it off with a sarcastic comment or something, yet still taking the mental note that if nobody else cared, at least you did.

Gale: Gale is the most pretentious motherfucker there is, are you kidding me? I think he, himself, loves milk chocolate and it's a major guilty pleasure, but he tells everyone it's dark chocolate. He doesn't shame anyone for their preference, but there comes an air of arrogance whenever he says he likes dark chocolate.

He will definitely be grateful no matter what type you give him, but if you give him milk chocolate and tell him you know it's his favorite? He might try to deny it at first, but his heart is beating a mile a fucking minute knowing that you've been observant enough to bring him his actual favorite type without making a big deal about it, or calling him a liar.

Lae’zel: Has never had chocolate before, and doesn't know why you're giving it to her. She does, however, adore white chocolate after you get her to try some. You'd assume she'd prefer dark, but she doesn't. She believes that if you're going to have a sweet, or a desert, it shouldn't be bitter because that defeats the purpose.

After you get her to try it the first time, she'll insist she doesn't like it or see the reason for it, but at any party or gathering or anything where there's chocolate? She's sampling the fuck out of that snack table, and hovering over the bowl of sweets like a dragon guarding a hoard of treasure. She actually really likes fancy chocolates and truffles. If you bring them to her while in an established relationship, she won't act very different, but she's very happy and feels very loved.

I might do Halsin, Jaheira, Minsc, and Minthara later. Idk.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #baldur's gate meme #gale dekarios #lae'zel #shadowheart #astarion ancunin #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #karlach #chocolate #bg3 scenarios #scenarios #fluff

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void-wolfie · 1 year

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Daddy Issues

summary: you sneak in through Sam's window one night to escape the rain and issues at home.

pairing: Samantha Carpenter x fem!Reader

tw: angst/fluff, mentions of abuse and alcohol

words: 1.37k

a/n: there was a different fic I was going to post, but I liked this one better

**if mentions of abuse are a trigger for you, I recommend not reading (doesn't go in-depth, but it is talked about)

You tapped on the window, hoping she was still awake. The fog coating the glass and the rain splattering your face made it difficult to see in. Just as you were about to give up, the window slid open and a pair of arms pulled you in.

"What are you doing here?" Her face was impassive, you couldn't tell what she was thinking.

"Uh, I'm sorry," you looked around the room, down at your feet, just anywhere to avoid eye contact, "I just- can I crash here for the night?"

She gave you a puzzled look.

"Your mom doesn't even have to know I'm here, I'll-"

"What happened to your face?" Within seconds she was in your space, grabbing your chin to better see your face in the dim lighting.

Oh. That.

"Uh, nothing. I got into a fight after school,"

It was a blatant lie, one she could see right through, "With who?"

"It doesn't matter,"

"y/n-"

"Sam, please."

She sighed, looking over at the door as if contemplating her options. If her mom ever knew you were here... yikes. But it was you, she'd do anything for you.

"Take off your hoodie, you're soaked."

You were soaked head to toe from the storm outside, having to walk here on foot wasn't exactly fun in the pouring rain, but you weren't sure where else to go.

You did as you were told, leaving you in just your sports bra and jeans. If you hadn't been facing the other way you might've caught the small glance Sam sent your way. The sight of you shirtless sent her thoughts running wild, she had to remind herself friends don't think those things about each other.

Those thoughts quickly left as she saw the state of you, though. Your sides were riddled with purple and yellow bruises. Most of them were obviously fresh, and she'd hate to see how they'd look tomorrow.

By the time you had it off and turned back around, she was handing you a dry pair of shorts and one of her hoodies.

You mumbled a thank you before going to get changed in the little bathroom connected to her room. The hoodie was a little big on you, but you could care less. It was warm, dry, and even smelt like her. The idea of you wearing something hers gave you butterflies.

You opened the little bathroom door and before you could even make it to the doorway, she pushed you back. She picked you up and sat you down on the countertop. She grabbed the little first aid kit she kept from under the sink and started cleaning the cuts on your face.

The one on your lip wasn't too bad, it'd probably hurt like a bitch in the morning though. The one across your eyebrow was worse. The area around it was already black and blue and you were lucky you didn't need stitches.

"You don't have to do that, you know."

"Don't move." She mumbled, "This might sting."

She poured antiseptic into the cut, and it took everything in you not to yell out in pain. You squeezed the counter and hissed, trying to hold yourself together, even if it was only for her.

“‘Might sting’ my ass," you muttered. You saw Sam smile at the comment, and all those butterflies from earlier flooding back.

After she was done cleaning you up, she put the kit away and led you back into her room, nudging you toward the bed.

"In."

"You don't have to-"

"I'm not letting you sleep on the damn floor. Now in."

You huffed. When Sam made up her mind, there was almost always no changing it.

You crawled under the covers and to the far edge of the bed, putting as much distance between you and Sam as possible. It's not that you didn't want to be around her, you very much did want to be around her. You just didn't want to make her uncomfortable.

Sam turned off the lights as she crawled under the covers, the only light left in the room coming from the nightlight in the corner. Still plugged in for those nights Tara would have nightmares and crawl in next to Sam.

"You gonna tell me who did that to you? Without the lies this time."

"Santa Claus," you deadpanned.

"I’m being serious."

"How do you know I'm not? That man breaks into homes for a living and people think it's cute-"

"y/n." She cut off your rambling. Even in the dark room, you could make out the deadly look on her face.

"Do we really have to talk about it?"

"Yes."

She was determined. You could see it in her eyes. If you didn't tell her now, she'd just find some way to pull it out of you tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that, so on and so forth.

"My dad."

“Your dad did this to you?”

You nodded, playing with the strings on her hoodie to avoid making eye contact. Rolling the string up, unrolling it. Rolling it up, unrolling it. Repeat.

"Why?"

"He caught me trying to steal his bottle of Jack,"

"He pummeled you over alcohol?" If the look on her face was any indication, she was pissed. Nothing could’ve justified the beating you took, but all of this over a bottle of Jack. It was ridiculous.

She knew your relationship with your father was rocky, borderline abusive, but she had no idea how bad it truly was, you made sure to hide that from her.

You shrugged, "Can we stop talking about it now, please."

"Only if you promise to go get that checked out by the school nurse in the morning," she said, referring to the cuts on your face.

"And play 20 questions with Nurse Ratched, pass."

"y/n-"

"Sam, please."

You seemed to be saying that a lot tonight, and you weren’t really a fan. Begging wasn’t your style, not even for Sam. But you didn’t need to draw more attention to yourself than necessary.

Your mother died when you were little, car accident. Or, at least, that’s what your father tells you. If people start asking questions, well you had a feeling it would only get the authorities involved and you didn’t want that. Not when all they would do is take you away, put you in some foster facility, and you’d never see Sam or any of your other friends ever again.

Something in her resolve cracked. She let it go. Whether just for now, or for good you had no clue, but you'd take the win.

"You’re gonna fall off the bed sleeping like that." She switched the subject, referring to how you were perched on the edge of the mattress.

"Yeah, well, how do you propose I sleep miss know-it-all?"

She rolled her eyes, though, you could see a hint of a smile on the corners of her lips, "Get your scrawny ass over here, smartass,"

"Jeez, Sam, I don't know how I feel about you looking at my ass-"

She knew you weren't gonna move so she settled on moving you herself instead. She grabbed you by the waist and pulled you in, effectively cutting off whatever sarcastic retort you had lined up.

If your heart beat any faster, you were sure her mom could hear it from across the house.

Her arms were wrapped around you securely with your legs tangled in between hers. You'd be lying if you said you didn't feel safe. Safer than you'd felt in your own house recently, maybe even in years.

"Now go to sleep, we have class in the morning and it's already late enough."

Part of you wanted to wiggle out of her arms and go back to sleeping on the edge of the bed. But the other part of you was comfortable. Against your better judgment, you wrapped your arms around her and snuggled into her chest.

You were asleep in minutes. Sam could feel your erratic heartbeat finally slow, beating to the same rhythm as hers. She placed a light kiss to the top of your head before falling asleep herself, making sure to hold you tight all night.

#samantha carpenter #sam carpenter #samantha carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x fem!reader #sam carpenter x y/n #melissa barrera #void-wolfie

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sunshine-jesse · 9 months

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Ashley Literally Did Nothing Wrong, Fuck You, Fight Me

Alt title: Ashley Graves: The most convenient scapegoat in the world

I'm going to espouse a take here that will no doubt be controversial, as you can tell by the title. This is a take I've created from my hollistic understanding of the events of the game, and isn't dependent on any one single point I make in this essay. Because of that, I want you to read it with an open mind; if you hyperfocus on one or two smaller details I might've gotten wrong or are fallaciously interpretated, and either use that to discount the whole essay or go into the comment section and immediately try to debunk my interpretation of that event, that'll make it obvious to me that you're not trying to seriously engage with the core of what I'm trying to say. Because unless quite literally everything I've said here is wrong, I feel confident in saying this:

Ashley Graves did nothing wrong.

Moreover, I think Ashley is on the level of people like Rossiu, Shinji Ikari, and Skylar White as far as people who are mistreated by their fandoms goes.

At first this was going to be an essay about how I don't think the demons are evil, using textual and thematic evidence to show that they're just part of a system that deals mostly fairly with humans and doesn't have any nefarious plans, or at least nefarious plans that stand to fuck anyone over. But then I realized that, goodness gracious, that is boring as shit to write! But I looked at what I had written already and realized that I could write something else with it: something better. I could sum up a lot of the points made in my prior essays and elaborate upon them in much more detail, showing why I think certain themes are obviously present within this game. And here, I intend on doing that.

I've spoken a lot before about how Ashley is a scapegoat for all of Andrew's worst habits; and to a lesser extent, her mother's. The game makes it seemingly obvious that she's the bad one, and generally just a Very Not Good person. It shows her and her brother committing many different acts that are, under most moral systems, wrong, and implicitly implies that she's the reason that Andrew ever did those things. It implies that she's corrupting him, that he could be better and refuses- or is unable to- due to her poking and prodding. But… is that the truth? Is that how their relationship actually works, in practice? I don't believe so. I think I've made it obvious by now that I believe the exact opposite!

I'm going to start off by tackling the morality behind their actions, especially relative to the world they're in. Specifically, I'm going to tackle how the game presents the morality of their actions from a thematic point of view, and any statements it may or may not make.

First of all, TCOAL plays with a lot of different taboos- demon summoning, cannibalism, incest, murder- but the game goes through great lengths to muddy the moral weight of the siblings' actions. Every single action they commit is portrayed in the most neutral possible light- killings were done in self defense (with one notable exception), or done to people who greatly wronged them, cannibalism was a necessity to survive (also with one notable exception), incest is shown to come from a marked improvement in their relationship- leading me to believe that this game is taking a hard morally nihilistic stance. Else, they'd be shown to suffer for their actions, when in reality, the literal exact opposite is happening; they are being rewarded for it. This isn't necessarily glorifying the actions, but instead showing that even the worst of actions can potentially be excused, but whether or not you do is up to the reader. Hence, nihilism, or at the very least, skepticism (as noted by Lisafication). There's an existentialist reading of this too, but I think much of that is contingent on the events of chapter 3 so I won't get into that here.

It contrasts this mostly nihilistic perspective on interpersonal taboos with the deep societal ills that drive people to commit such actions. Evil exists at every level of analysis here, but curiously, the only thing that are shown to do direct harm to others without having a justification of some kind- be it self-defense or retaliation- are those societal ills. There is no (morally) good reason to quarantine people, starve them, and harvest their organs. There's no good reason to burn all evidence and then put a hit on the ones who did escape. There's no good reason to extort sexual favors from someone in exchange for food. These are deep structural problems that force people to either retaliate/lash out or enable people's most exploitative or abusive habits lest they just let themselves die.

And thus, the obvious evils become much less obvious. The game makes a point of subverting the obvious or the well-known when it comes to morals, and I think it does so when it comes to everything else, too. Outside of those societal ills (so far, ch3 might have something else to say), every situation where someone could obviously be shown as the bad person in a situation is immensely more complex than it first appears. So much so that I'd argue that displaying said complexity and subverting simplicity to force/encourage people to analyze things deeper is one of the central themes of the game.

So why, exactly, does he blame so much on her? It's because Ashley is the world's most convenient scapegoat, and the game is well-aware of this and displays it in ways both obvious and not.

First off: the title screen has Ashley wielding the cleaver, establishing that she’s the violent one. It's covered in blood, too, implying that she's the one more driven to kill. The reality of this is the opposite; Andrew is the one with less hesitation to inflict violence on others, the cleaver is his weapon, and most of the kills in the story are done by him (and fully justified). Ashley might push him to do these violent acts, but… does she?

Her reaction to the death of the first warden is one of utter shock.

And her expression afterwards?

This is not the look of someone who enjoyed the fact that someone killed for her sake. This is not the look of someone who finds joy to be had in violence. It's not even the look of someone who is apathetic towards violence. It almost seems to express shame or guilt, but at the very least, she's timid over it. At the very least, it's an "oh shit, he actually had to do that for my sake" face. Not a "haha, I am making him worse!" face.

Not to mention, not only does Andrew kill the first Warden without a care in the world, he proactively kills the 302 lady to eliminate all witnesses, and because he believes Ashley would want him to. But Ashley actually grills him for it; she didn't want the 302 lady to die, although she hardly had good-person-reasons for it. But that's not my point. The point is that she is not the violent one between the two of them.

The door doesn't open in response to violence, remember?

The game intentionally misleads us.

And what happens when Ashley tries to make him take responsibility for all this violence? To point out that she didn't force him to do anything and that he chose to do all of it, including lock Nina in the box? She lashes out, hits him a few times… and then he goes to strangle her, and doesn't let go until she acknowledges that he has no reason for her to be around. He literally doesn't cease his threat to her life until she acknowledges she's useless to him.

I acknowledge that this isn't the most charitable framing for Andrew, and maybe too charitable for Ashley. After all, she wasn't indignant. She was mocking him. She found it hilarious. But I have reasons for that charitability that I'll go over towards the end. But even with that charitability in mind, I don't think my reading is too off base. Defaulting to laughter or mocking in stressful situations is just what Ashley does. She's not indignant about it; she just finds it hilarious that people keep pretending to be better than her, when they're not.

Andrew killed the 302 lady and used Ashley as a scapegoat to justify it; this is indisputable, stated in the text during the dream. This alone validates Ashley's point of view. There is no interpretation of this event that doesn't paint Andrew as every bit as unscrupulous as Ashley, and thinking she corrupted him into this- when it was both one of the first actions he did on his own in the story and something he explicitly uses Ashley as a scapegoat for- is just ridiculous. It's frankly unreasonable. She has every right to be sick of being used as a scapegoat. And at the very least, whether or not you accept the idea that Andrew only let Ashley go once she acknowledged that she's useless to him, he's still so taken aback by his misinterpretation of Ashley's desires that HE goes to strangle HER.

This is NOT Andrew triumphantly standing up to his abuser. This is both of their masks slipping; Andrew revealing how violent and insistent on keeping up his internal narrative that he is, and Ashley revealing that she's getting tired of being blamed for everything.

And then, when he finally lets her go… she hugs him, and acknowledges that she's happy that Nina is gone, which makes little sense at the face of it. Why would that be her first response to being let go, when it was ostensibly what made Andrew so upset to begin with?

I think, to her, it's a conciliatory gesture. As chapter 2 showed us, she's more than willing to take responsibility for violence to relieve Andrew of stress over it, as evidenced by her finishing off their parents. This is an earlier instance of that; by acknowledging she was happy that Nina was dead, she took responsibility for it. She willingly framed herself as a bad person here, so Andrew wouldn't have to be.

She let herself be the scapegoat, because it's all she ever knew. She put the mask back on.

This alone is enough to challenge the idea that Ashley 'corrupts' Andrew in any meaningful way. How, exactly, can you define it as corrupt when society itself is twisted enough to force these actions to survive? In a more sane world, a lot of their actions would've been bad, sure, but they're also actions that the siblings probably wouldn't have done in a more sane world. Ashley's actions aren't making Andrew worse, they're helping to ensure their survival. You could say that this is still corruptive in its own way, but at that point it seems like your reasoning is motivated by having already had that narrative rather than making a good-faith reading of their dynamic.

At no point did she actually make him worse; he was already like that and just used her as an excuse.

Next up is the Nina situation. This one is obviously cut and dry- Ashley manipulates Andrew into killing Nina because she wants no competition between the two of them. It's not Andrew's fault and Ashley was an evil abuser from the jump. Obvious, right?

No. It's really not.

It's pretty strongly implied that Ashley was mistreated by people her whole life. The Lemon Cupcake scene shows this in more detail, about how people always neglect or ignore her birthdays, but she also says that nobody likes her because she's weird and loud in the Nina flashback too. But unless something big happened in between the two flashbacks, none of this behavior indicates particularly maladaptive or even strange tendencies on Ashley's part. She's a needy, bratty child, and the closest thing to a friend she has- Nina- wants to take away the one thing from her that's a source of comfort and emotional validation.

It's not entirely rational, sure! But it also -makes perfect sense-. NOBODY treated her well throughout her entire life; it's strongly implied that Nina never did either, given Nina's reaction to Ashley being there and the lower left-hand painting past the Questionable door showing her being distant from the two of them. We can also see a star bouncing off of her head, and stars represent closeness in this game, so it shows there was an attempt made somewhere along the line, it's just not clear as to who made the attempt.

At the very least, Nina's reaction of disappointment fed into Ashley's preconceived notions of how people treat her, and how she deserves to be treated. Although, from what has been directly stated, rather than implied, Nina was nothing more than an innocent victim in this scenario; I don't mean to take that away from her.

"But she didn't care when Nina died?"

So? If Nina treated her like trash for most of her life, why should she care? She didn't expect Nina to die. It was just an acceptable consequence. You can say "That's not how normal kids act!" all you want, but there's a level of spite and apathy that comes with intense bullying and emotional neglect that I don't think you really understand unless you've been there to the extent someone like Ashley has implied to be.

Andrew, meanwhile, was the one who told Ashley that they had to lock Nina in the box to keep them in there. He's the one who looked for and found the stick to keep them locked in. You could say he was coerced by an abusive person into hurting someone, sure, but you'd be wrong. Cataclysmically wrong, even. Like, if you actually think that a seven year old girl (nobody wears overalls past the age of seven) can have anything approximating an abusive dynamic with her as the perpetrator with someone both older and stronger than her, you frankly have some issues with women you need to work out. That's simply not how abuse dynamics work at that age.

Andrew wasn't entirely responsible for it either, mind- he was just a kid who should never have been saddled with this kind of responsibility. But that's not my point; the point is that it enables other people, Andrew included, to use her as a scapegoat to avoid his own responsibility. All this scene does is retroactively justify any preconceptions you might've had about them from seeing their adult selves first. But the moment you start digging, it becomes much less obvious who's really culpable here. Andrew was, as evidenced by the blood oath scene, fully aware that he held the advantage over her in strength, and managed to give up nothing when making the oath while he made Ashley swear to silence. He was fully aware that he could've chosen to do better, but he refused, and instead opted to reinforce Ashley's insecurities for the sake of exerting control over her.

I've said before that the 302 lady was murdered without any input from Ashley, but this is also relevant on a meta-level because it's done without any input from the player, either. Both of the murders in chapter 1 were like that, whereas all that we, the player can choose to do in that chapter is either solve puzzles, or hilariously, die. The only person with control here is Andrew, the character, and this is reinforced by the fact that we have no control over him for much of the Nina flashback, too. He locks her in the box regardless of our input, even though Ashley spends a lot of time trying to convince him. The main difference between the Nina flashback and the scenes in the apartment is that Ashley had absolutely no idea that any of that was going to happen in the present, whereas it's something she wanted with Nina- which isn't that big of a difference when discussing how much agency she really has.

As much as the game frames Ashley as a manipulator- and much of the fanbase uncritically accepts- she is given shockingly little in-game control over many of the actions committed. Even in the case of the Hitman- as a good friend of mine pointed out- the only choice the player is given is whether or not to check the closet and be killed; an impulsive decision leading to a swift and unceremonious end. In the end, Andrew is the one given the choice to kill the hitman, and we can consciously choose whether or not his reaction is panicked or measured. No such choice is given to Ashley, as most of her reactions are impulsive and spontaneous rather than planned. This is not the makings of a standard "manipulative evil bitch" trope. She's pretty consistently portrayed as someone with poor impulse and emotional control who loudly and aggressively states her intent in every single scenario she's in.

And you can still call what she says and does manipulative despite that, sure, but at what point are you just pathologizing relatively normal (if extreme and highly emotional) social interactions for the sake of fitting into a narrative you already held?

We see Ashley's status as a scapegoat for people to use to pretend to be normal reach its most blatant with the parents. This time it's pretty cut and dry to anyone that doesn't already have it in their mind that Ashley is evil and unforgivable. Mrs. Graves explicitly brings up the possibility of a normal life without Ashley to Andrew in the basement, and claims that Ashley was at fault for shutting her out. She would've been a normal parent otherwise, right? Well, no; the game wastes no time in showing that this wasn't the case in the Burial ending.

From when Ashley was a baby, Mrs. Graves was already tired of her shit, and too emotionally exhausted to be a parent. Despite her attempts at blaming Ashley, she would've never been a normal parent unless Ashley was a golden child in the same way that Andrew was. And yet Ashley didn't even deny shutting her mom out. She didn't deny the chance to be used as a scapegoat; it was all she ever knew. The fact that Mrs. Graves had the audacity to claim that she was a saint when she was never prepared to be a parent for a child who didn't make it easy, and when she was willing to sell out her children and let them die for a life insurance payment is absolutely astounding.

This alone should've been enough to recontextualize everything we supposedly know about how responsible Ashley really is in all of this, but bad parents have a knack for being great at manipulating both family members and everyone viewing from the outside, including the people playing the game.

And almost including Andrew.

Andrew almost accepting the mom's offer is the single most tragic moment in the game, by far.

Dandy said it best in his video essay: By Ashley leaving Andrew alone with their parents, she showed that she is capable of changing. That she is capable of getting better. She showed that she loves and respects Andrew enough to be able to put aside her usual role as the scapegoat and allow him to make the decision that was for the best for both of them. And make no mistake, it was for the best; if the mom really DID sell out the siblings, and given the two of them were already on the run for supposedly being dead, there was no hope of any of this ever working out. They saw through the conspiracy and knew the truth of how the quarantine operations really worked. They were an active threat to one of the most powerful entities seen in the setting so far, to the point where they had a hitman sent after them.

Mrs. Graves had every reason to sell them out again, for their presence in a public setting was more than enough to put everyone in their family in danger. Mrs. Graves had every reason to believe that the normalcy she wanted was nothing that could ever be grasped again so long as her children were alive, and as such, it was clear that she had nothing to offer either Andrew or Ashley. Ashley trusted Andrew to see through their obvious manipulations and lies, and understand that the parents had nothing left to give them. She trusted him to love her more than the false promises their parents could give.

…And yet. In spite of it all.

In spite of her love, in spite of clearly displaying that she can grow up and become a person that causes him less stress, and in spite of Ashley showing that all she wants now is their safety and security…

Andrew can still choose to consider Ashley the problem. He can still choose to use her as the scapegoat he always has.

He can still choose to see her as the one thing that caused him to be this way, that stands in between him and normalcy, when she, not once, forced him to do anything.

Were he to accept Mrs. Graves' offer, this would've been the single most tragic moment in the game. It almost was, and still stands to be, because he ignores every indication that things could be better for the sake of his own narrative, and a narrative echoed by much of the fandom.

But no matter what ending was picked, things could be better. They could've been better all along. Compared to chapter 1, their dynamic in chapter 2 is already much healthier. Their banter is less venomous, and while they still poke and prod each other in ways that aren't exactly great, they don't get into the same violent fights we saw in the 302 room. By all accounts, what happened in that room was an outlier. Even when they find themselves in their parents' house, where they stand to do the One Thing That Means They Would Never Be Normal Again, Ever (ignoring the fact that this is already a lost cause by then), Ashley doesn't get into any fights with Andrew in the same way she did back in the apartment. All she wants is affirmation and security. She doesn't even lay into her mom like she lays into Julia over the phone, even in their private conversations.

We’re led to believe that she’s still getting worse because the actions she’s taking are more extreme, but her attitudes and behaviors are much, much different. The actual actions they're taking are so obviously the right thing to do (both morally and practically) that I don't think it's until they eat their parents that you should make a double take and go "Wow, maybe these goblins actually are kinda fucked up," because until then, well… everything is justified! Perfectly so! Even then, eating their parents serves a purpose, even if not a mentally healthy one.

Maybe she’s calmer because she’s in control over the situation, but if the calls she made to Julia are any indication (independent of the theory that she didn’t actually say those things), were she unchanged as a person, she still would’ve lashed out at their mother over how much more useful she is to Andrew than their parents were, or something of that nature. Something about how nothing their mom offers could compete with what Ashley gives. But she makes no such claims. She feels no need to prove anything to her parents, or to reaffirm her place in Andrew’s life even in the face of her mother challenging it (or at least implying such a challenge). Regardless of her insecurities, she’s changed. It’s hard to see, but she has.

And then Andrew can ignore that and consider betraying her because he refuses to believe that she's willing to make their dynamic work, when she shows many different indications of being willing to concede as long as Andrew stops giving her mixed signals.

A friend of mine put it best, and I'm pretty much quoting her word for word here, because of how strongly I agree with it. When I look at Ashley, I find very few actual "flaws." I see familiar wounds.

The Burial ending, despite being triumphant and not nearly as "dark" as some people think, is still very, very sad. A lot of abusive dynamics are characterized by someone having to fight every step of the way to get what they need from the other person, usually some kind of emotional validation or relief. This is what happens between Andrew and Ashley for most of the game: Ashley wants Andrew to treat their relationship as special, to acknowledge there's something to it beyond just him going through the motions. And yet for most of the game, he refuses to, especially in chapter 1. And then, in Burial, when he does…

She's confused.

A lot of people view this as her being afraid of losing control over Andrew, since her "Andy," who she can push around, is gone. Andrew has changed, and the same tricks wouldn't work. But that's not what that is; it's not about control, it's about her finally getting what she wants from him without having to fight. She still thinks about using sex as leverage to keep him around, but that's because she's never understood what it's like to have someone actually want to be around her. And I speak from experience; when you no longer have to fight for every little bit of emotional validation or relief, when you no longer have to keep checking your messages to keep an argument going so you can finally be proven right, when you no longer have to force yourself to let go, to stop engaging, the reaction isn't happiness. It's not relief.

It's confusion. It's discontent.

Because something you've tied so much of yourself up in to is no longer there, despite it being more peaceful, it still feels wrong. The dynamic still has to be this way in your mind, because you've never known anything else. You latch on to whatever you can in order to justify that, and your actions are still heavily biased in favor of maintaining your place in that nonexistent dynamic. This isn't manipulation; it's trauma. And the fact that Ashley almost immediately understands that Andrew is changing is nothing short of a miracle. By consolidating past and present Andrew into a single person rather than splitting them into two, she showing that she can actually heal from that trauma. And all Andrew had to do to enable this is to acknowledge that she CAN change, that things CAN be better, and that everyone who claims to be better than her is full of shit.

I've analyzed the events of the story in a way that may seem needlessly antagonistic to some characters, and overly charitable to others. But I have to ask you, that if you disagree with anything I've said:

Where does that disagreement come from? What about my narrative clashes with your own? -Why- does it clash? Is it because the game presents your interpretation as obvious, whereas mine is not? Is it because you've experienced someone like Ashley before in your life, and you know it when you see it? Maybe you strongly identify with Andrew, and view his status as a doormat with no agency to be obvious? Or did you just accept the narrative that much of the fanbase has taken at face value, without further analysis other than building on top of it?

I don't believe these things to be contrarian; I've held most of these opinions since my first or second playthrough. I don't believe what I do because you don't, I believe what I do because I understand what Ashley has been through. I've experienced a lot of the specific traumas she had, such as deep feelings of isolation and being deprived of the emotional validation I need from the people who need to give it. I know what it's like to be misunderstood, to have who and what I am taken for granted, and to be terrified of being abandoned by the people I need the most. I see what I do because I understand.

And I want to give her that understanding that nobody gave me.

Maybe you should think about it. Why do you take it for granted that Andrew is a doormat who is strung along by Ashley? Why do you find it so odd when the trope of a woman corrupting a good man through leveraging sex is drawn into question? Why is Ashley seen as crazy, when all of her actions are so straightforward and rational? How is she corrupting him, when the single most needlessly violent act in the whole story- outside of the Nina flashback- is done without her influence? Why is Ashley seen as the abusive one when Andrew both threatens and resorts to physical violence and witholds emotional validation?

Weirdly personal tangent aside, Ashley and Andrew are two of the most well-written characters I have ever seen. They're not written like archetypes who interact with each other through a series of tropes; they're written like real people who's words and actions have astoundingly human motivations. They come from places that we can understand and relate to.

And just like people, they deserve respect. In spite of all they've done, they deserve love.

But make no mistake, Ashley is not the one stopping that love from happening. She just has the audacity to still want it in spite of everything telling her that she doesn't deserve it. We're led to believe she wants too much, but all she ever wanted was the bare minimum that she was never given.

And she has every right to be mad about it.

#andrew graves #ashley graves #the coffin of andy and leyley #tcoaal #tcoaal essay #gaming

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captain-mj · 3 months

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09Soapghost heellll yeah. Captain MacTavish going uno reverse and going aha now you can’t get rid of me. Prepare to be made to heel

Draft

You got the psychic messages I was adding to the post

It started with the interrogation. That was it. With Ghost breaking that person down to nothing with Soap's help. If Soap gave a suggestion, which he did only when he wasn't sure he could stomach doing it himself so rarely, Ghost would do it.

Right now, he was running a flame over one of his knives, no doubt about to do something awful with it while Soap sat in front of the guy, waiting for the fear to build enough for him to back down.

And when Ghost put the burning red knife next to his eye, swaying it slightly like he might just drop it on him, he broke. He blabbered on and on and on about this and that and whatever. Soap took the important things down.

"Can I see my wife?"

Soap was just about to answer when Ghost did. He never spoke during things like this. Not wanting people to hear his voice. But Price had told him to kill the guy afterward and that was enough for him to not care. "Yeah. You can see her." He cocked his gun and put it between his eyes.

"My wife isn't dead." The man looked angry.

"Course she is. Suicide to be exact. Apparently a couple of our boys got a little rough. Made some comments. I wonder, did she kill herself to prevent being defiled or because she was afraid of being used against you? Which one? Did she love your country more than you? Just like you did her."

The man started to curse and sob and bitch in Russian.

Ghost let him for a moment, enjoying this Soap realized, before moving the sunglasses to the top of his head to uncover his eyes. "Look me in the eyes. I want to see you die."

The gunshot was loud and it echoed. And Ghost put the gun back in place.

"His wife is safe and sound in a house not too far from here. Why did you lie?"

"So when he gets to whatever afterlife there is, he searches for her for years, not know she just isn't there yet. I like the think the grim reaper is in on the joke and plays along."

"You're a sick fucking bastard." Soap said and meant it.

Ghost looked at him. And those eyes... stone cold dead. Nothing fucking there. On anyone else, they'd be gorgeous. Beautiful browns like several of the sweet little things Soap picked up at bars. But there was not a hint of emotion in those things at all. "You know I am."

That's when Soap realized that Ghost was a little feral. Demented even. Something was Fucking wrong with him.

It didn’t scare him as much as it should. His head gets a little fuzzy at the thought actually.

There were other moments. Times where Ghost would be a little more fucked up around him. Letting Soap catch him licking one of his knives or purposely dragging out someone's death for his own pleasure.

Somehow it was made worse by the moments of Ghost's humanity. HIs humming. His inane way of making tea and how he disliked coffee and his stupid jokes. It was at such odds with the way he looked at him, dangerous and mutant.

Until Soap found himself cornered by Ghost who was trying to tower over him despite their size difference being laughably small. Only an inch or so. And his shoulders weren't that bad, but they weren't much against his own. Riley just wasn't doing a good job of being intimidating, especially considering Soap had seen him do far better with enemies.

"MacTavish." He growled at him.

Soap looked at him. "Simon. Heel, boy."

Ghost stared at him blankly, only those dead black eyes looking at him.

"You're not getting rid of me, Simon. So go ahead and get used to it."

He scoffed like Johnny was the dumbest motherfucker ever. "You don't own me. Can't tell me what to do."

"Heel, Simon." Soap whispered at him, patting his side. "You're not going to get my attention like this."

Riley growled at him again.

"That's your problem. Can barely touch ya. You hide under that mask like a coward. So you skulk around and hope I'll kick you away."

Riley made a ragged noise and almost barked at him. "Fuck you."

"I'll kick you when I want." Soap hissed and shoved him to the side, noticing how he moved so easily.

That exchange was why he didn't feel as much as surprise as one would expect to find Ghost unmasked in his room late at night, knife in hand.

Soap looked at Riley, watching his breathing as ragged as it was. Looking at how he looked defenseless despite holding a knife. He flipped it in his fingers and held out the handle.

“Captain, I’d let you do anything to me.” His tone was steady, even maybe a tad breathless. There was no hesitation or pain in the admittance.

Soap frowned at him but his interest was undeniable piqued. “Anything I wanted?” He took the knife and dragged it along his jugular. Just letting him feel it.

It was the first break in the facade. A small painful sound. “Yes. Anything. I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“For giving you this burden.” Ghost choked out. “Anything you want.”

Soap shouldn’t push. He knew Ghost didn’t say things like this lightly. But he did anyway. “Even sex? I know how you are.”

Ghost shivered but it wasn’t from fear. His pupils were blown and he reacted like he had not considered this option. “I haven't had sex in years. But if it would please you. I’d let you fuck me however you want. Even if it’s the same way they did. Even if it's worse. As long as it's you."

“You’d let me kill you.” Soap waited for something. A survival instinct of some kind. But Ghost licked his pretty lips.

“Johnny, if you asked, I’d beg you to. If that’s what you wanted.”

“Beg.”

Ghost gently grabbed the wrist that was controlling the knife as it went further down but still didn’t cut. He just needed the stability. “Please. Whatever you want. You want me dead? Do it. I’ll write up a note saying i asked for it. You want me kill someone for you and I will. Bleed me dry, Johnny. I’ll enjoy it.”

Soap looked at where he was clearly hard in his pants. “Should I get you off first?”

“If you think I deserve it.” Ghost exposed his throat for him, swallowing.

The knife hit the floor and Soap kissed him properly. Really kissed him. He dragged him up and out of the chair. Ghost sobbed against his mouth but he ignored it, instead laying him out over his desk.

Soap wasn’t cruel. He could be stern and mean but cruelness was never his thing. And in this moment, he wished nothing more to be cruel. To be able to rend Ghost down in a way that he clearly needed.

Instead, he undid his belt. "Simon."

"Yes, sir?" Ghost looked at him, biting his lip delicately.

"I am going to fuck you. Gonna let you sit there and just feel it. Be real good to you. And when I'm done, you're going to warm my cock under my desk."

Ghost softened, eyelashes fluttering. If not for the scars, he'd be model material. But Soap preferred him with the scars. "Thank you."

He kept lotion at his desk, something that Gaz usually teased him over, but it was perfect for right now. Using a generous amount to make it easier for him. One finger in and he already felt tighter than anything else Soap had fucked in... ever. "You weren't kidding. Practically a virgin huh?"

Ghost tensed up and Soap could feel it around his finger. "Hey, it's okay. I like it. Feels like I'm getting to break you in."

A sweet moan. "Yes. You want me to tell you how big you feel? I know you're probably packing. I'll even exaggerate. Tell you how you're breaking me."

"Only if that's what it really feels like." Soap assured, realizing just how much of a freak Ghost was. And subsequently how much of a freak he was himself, because this was all getting him going. Still, he worked him open until he could easily take three fingers and the lotion was starting to overflow.

Soap knew what he had. He had been turned down by a partner or two because of the size. And the way Ghost arched to keep taking it. Thighs trembling. It gave him a sense of satisfaction.

"I don't need to make you crave me. You already do."

"Yes, sir." He sounded strained but he managed the words.

"How do you feel?"

Ghost put his forehead against the soft wood. "Like you're breaking me." He shook and sobbed, but Soap knew if he pulled that pretty head up and made him look at him, there wouldn't actually be any tears.

A slow gentle push and pull. Soap didn't mind, the tightness and the pressure doing everything he needed. Ghost never asked for more. Though if it was because he was pleased, it was too much or he'd only take what he was being given was a mystery.

He abused his prostate. Mentally tallied how many times he hit it dead on as Ghost's body betrayed him. Causing his hips to cant up for more or his body to thrash until he fell against the desk like his strings had been cut.

And then Soap felt the tell tale tightening around his cock. Rhythmic and still desperate. "You came?"

Ghost nodded against the desk but didn't show his face. The back of his neck was a bright red.

"So the dead can blush."

Soap sped up a little, focusing on his own pleasure, and Ghost would clench every time he went all the way in, and then he came too. Deep inside so Ghost would struggle to clean it out.

Ghost got up and got on his knees. Soap gave him his shirt back so he wouldn't be half dressed.

"My life is yours." Simon Riley mumbled to him and the look he gave him was the same dead eyed stare as always.

Soap smiled at him anyway. "Thank you. It's a gift I'll appreciate."

For a brief moment, there seemed to be something like contentment in Ghost's eyes before closing his eyes and starting his job of pleasing his Captain.

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #cod #soapghost #ghoap

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