#yes seeing the cows is nice but at what cost | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yanderecrazysie · 3 years ago

Note

what about a yandere farmer boy kita/ushijima who takes an unwilling housewife for themselves? 😳 maybe she's just a city girl who went to the province just for a lil nice get-away but farmer boi may have gotten too attached. i really love your work btw! came here from quotev

YES! A Quotev-ian! Quotev was the first place I started writing, so I have such a strong nostalgic love for it! Thank you so much for your support and this is such a fun idea! I’m going to try Ushijima, since I haven’t written a one shot for him yet!

I’m sorry it’s so late, I try my best to put a lot of effort in my fics and they always end up so much longer than I expect- >3< I hope it’s worth the wait!

Part 2 is here

Title: Confine

Pairings: Ushijima x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, swearing, a bit of misogyny, Ushijima is lowkey creepy

Summary: Ushijima would like to extend your trip to the countryside from a couple months to forever. He’d also like you by his side. Unfortunately, your preferences aren’t necessary.

confine

/verb/

restrain or forbid someone from leaving (a place).

It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy the city, it was more that you needed a little break from the hustle and bustle.

When you and your boyfriend broke up, you were left scrambling to find a new apartment. The best place you could afford was in very poor condition and in a shady neighborhood, and even that sapped more of your resources than it should.

The last straw that broke the camel’s back was the retail company you worked at laying you off. You weren’t fired or anything, you just weren’t essential enough for them to keep you when they downsized for cost-cutting reasons.

As you looked at your puffy eyes in the yellowing, stained mirror, and tried to ignore the shouting of the other people in your building, you made your decision.

“Fuck it,” you muttered, walking back into your bedroom and pulling out your suitcase.

“Are you sure you don’t want to settle down here for a longer period of time? I know we don’t have any apartments here, but you could find a small house for pretty cheap.”

You smiled fondly at the woman in the driver’s seat beside you, “I’m sure, mom. I’ll only be here for two months. Maybe three. I’m a city gal, not a country gal.”

“Fine, fine,” Your mother laughed, recognizing the hint of exasperation in your voice, “Well, you are welcome to stay with us as long as you need. I talked to Okashi, my friend that works in that cute little diner, and she’d love to give you a job as a server there!”

“Just like that?” Your eyes widened. You planned to get a job, save up your earnings along with the little you had before hopping on the bus to the Miyagi Prefecture, then move back to the city, but to get a job right off the bat like this was more than surprising.

“Of course, dear, she adores you” Your mother smiled, “You met Okashi a year or two back, remember? You were surprised to see a lady my age with bright pink hair.”

A mental image of a middle-aged woman with bubblegum-colored curls, shining blue eyes, and an enthusiastic way of talking. Last time you’d seen her, you were fresh out of college, and yet she’d cooed over you like you were starting your first day of school. Somehow, it wasn’t too annoying, the way she did it. She was more like one of those old aunties from the movies that just want to shower you with kisses.

“If there’s anything I can do to help around the-”

“Stop that talk right now!” Your mother cut you off sternly, “I already told you we’re happy to have you. There’s no need to work for us, it’ll be a pleasure for your father and I to be able to see you.”

You smiled gratefully at her before turning to look out the passenger-side window. In place of the familiar busy streets were acres of land growing a variety of crops, fences encompassing horses and cows, and little country roads. Towering skyscrapers were replaced with thick forests and fruit-filled orchards.

The countryside was like an entirely different world than the city was and, even if you preferred the city life, you could picture living here too.

But you always planned to return to the city when your two months were up.

“I can’t thank you enough for letting me work for you,” You said to the peppy woman facing you.

Okashi waved away your worries with a hand shining with a new coat of bright red polish on her long fingernails. Her lipstick was just-as-intensely red as her nails and her cheeks were dusted with a pink nearly the same color as her curly hair.

“No problem at all, darling! Not many new folks around here looking for work, and you’re gonna need a place to earn money if you’re gonna be saving up for only a few months, darling!”

You smiled up at her, your heart warming with gratitude, “When would you like me to get started? I’m free at just about any time- it’s not like I have anything to be doing while here.”

Okashi’s response was a huge grin and a bundle of clothing being shoved into your arms enthusiastically. You returned her smile and hurried to the bathroom to change into what must be your new uniform.

Sure enough, it was a pink and white outfit, one that reminded you of one of those old retro diners. A white apron and simple light-pink dress. It was cute, in its own way, you supposed, but it definitely not something you would consider wearing outside of the diner.

You’d barely walked out of the bathroom when the light tinkling of a bell sounded throughout the tiny building. You weren’t exactly sure if the diner you worked at was popular or not, but a glance at your watch told you the place had literally just opened. And, yet, there was a long stream of people happily chatting their way inside.

The majority of the customers were elderly people, like you mostly expected, but plenty were people around your age- college students, young adults, new couples, etc.

Okashi flitted around the store, talking to everyone with familiarity, seeming to know every person that entered the diner. It wasn’t the first time you’d been a server, not by any means, but you were a little nervous to be in a place where outsiders weren’t very common.

Soon, Okashi was pushing you towards a table, handing off your current one to another server, and saying “You don’t have a boyfriend, right? Why don’t you help out that table? Plenty of handsome boys your age!”

Clearly Okashi was playing cupid, but you humored her and walked over to the table. You had no intention whatsoever of dating anyone out here, since you’d be leaving them behind soon enough.

“Hello, my name is (Y/n) and I will be your server today! What can I get you started with?”

The tall red-haired boy at the table ordered first, then helpfully told you what his giant of a friend wanted. The man next to him was tall, intimidating, bulky, and angry-looking. From what you could tell, his peeved expression seemed more like a default one. Like he always looked so serious and imposing.

The other two males at the table, a gray-haired man with a smirk on his face and a darker-skinned man who smiled kindly at you, gave you their order and you scuttled off to grab the group’s drinks, sweating under the intense gaze of the largest man at the table.

He scared you. You weren’t sure exactly why, but he did. Maybe it was his size or his expression. Or maybe it was the aura you got from him or the way his eyes pierced through you and refused to even blink as you handed him his drink.

“Do you all know what you would like to order or do you need more time?”

The redhead spoke up first again, “No, we know what we’d like.” He put in his order once more but, when he started to order for his larger friend once more, a deep, rumbling voice cut through his.

“What do you recommend?” The large man was staring at you, his deep voice washing over you.

His friends looked flabbergasted, even more than you were sure you did. You blinked owlishly before offering your input.

“I recommend the burgers, to be honest. I know it’s a pretty generic option, but I tried one and they seem really good.” You were embarrassed to be put on the spot like that, but you really did remember liking the burgers back when your mom brought you to the diner a few years back.

“I will have a burger then,” The large man said, expression betraying nothing.

You nodded shyly and took the other two orders before heading back to the kitchen and relaying the information to the chef. Your cheeks burned when you heard the large man being teased by his friends, catching the redhead’s comment on how he “must really like the pretty server”.

When their food finished, you brought it back to their table and asked if they’d be wanting dessert. The redhead nodded, asked for a chocolate cake, then nudged the giant man sitting next to him.

Instead of asking for dessert, the man said, “I am Ushijima Wakatoshi. It is nice to meet you (Y/n).”

How were you supposed to respond to that? You nodded awkwardly, “It’s nice to meet you too. Would you like dessert?”

“No.” A blunt response, but not a mean one. You honestly weren’t sure what to think of the man and you were left wondering if he was perhaps just bad at socialization.

The group left as soon as they were finished, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was staring at you the entire walk out. He unnerved you, and maybe that was rude of you to judge him so harshly without knowing him, but you couldn’t help but think there were red flags popping up in the corner of your mind’s eye.

Ushijima showed up in the diner every day, sometimes staying for hours at a time, reading or typing away on a laptop. Despite how busy he seemed, you could always feel his eyes on you.

You worried, at first, that you were just being paranoid, but Okashi brought it up to you after a few days.

“Is he your boyfriend yet? If not, you should really ask him out, he’s probably too shy to ask you if he hasn’t already! It’s sooo obvious he likes you!”

If Okashi wasn’t in her 50s you would have mistaken her voice for a high school girl’s. You blushed, turning your face away in embarrassment, “There’s no point in dating when I’m leaving in a month.”

Then, it happened. You didn’t think you’d been talking too loud, although you do admit the diner was a bit quiet, but it was loud enough.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Ushijima’s form stiffen and his eyes widen. He didn’t bother to hide his staring this time, but his expression didn’t change. Somehow… you could tell… he was upset about your revelation.

Why should I care? It’s not like I returned any feelings he might have for me.

Still, it felt weird when he didn’t come into the diner for the rest of the week.

On the following Monday, Ushijima showed up at the diner again. He never glanced up at you, not even once, leaving you to wonder why he was there. Okashi had mentioned in passing that he rarely visited before you started working there.

As much as you wanted to believe he just started liking the food, the fact that he told the server he “didn’t want anything yet” worried you.

Why didn’t he order anything? If he isn’t hungry, why is he here?

Something felt very, very wrong. And you weren’t sure what it was… but it scared you.

Ushijima left just a few minutes before the diner closed, but the weight wasn’t lifted from your chest. If anything, the feeling worsened. You locked up the store with a heavy heart and hurried out the door, bidding goodbye to Okashi.

It wasn’t too dark, not with the street lights shining their pale light down on the main road. But the path to your parents house had far fewer lights and denser trees. Your heart caught in your throat as you went through the woods, the darkness washing over you until you felt as though you were choking in it.

You were so on edge that the scream barely took a second to escape your mouth when a muscular arm wrapped around your waist. Your shriek of terror was quickly cut off by a large hand cupping your mouth.

“Stop.” The deep, rumpling voice frightened you into submission, tears leaping to your eyes when you placed the familiarity. How could you even be surprised by who it was, when he was acting so strangely since the moment you met him?

Ushijima scooped you up effortlessly in his arms, fingers still pressed tightly into your cheeks. “Don’t know what you’re going on about, wanting to leave town… We just met and you’re already trying to leave me. After two people fall in love, it’s not right to just leave the other behind right away.”

Even if the large man’s calloused palms weren't clapped tightly to your lips, you wouldn’t have been able to say a word. You were entirely dumbfounded by his delusions. Did you somehow lead him on? You can’t imagine you did, not on purpose at least.

For the love of God you only talked when you took his order. How the hell did he get it in his head that you were some sort of lovestruck Romeo and Juliet couple? What the hell was wrong with this guy?

“You shouldn’t be going into the city and working there. It’s dangerous for a woman. You should be working in the home for your husband.”

The words caused anger to rise inside of you and you delivered your best kick to his chest, despite the awkward angle you were in. It was like you hadn’t done anything at all. He didn’t flinch or falter in his steps in even the smallest bit.

“It will be fine (Y/n). I will be your husband and keep you where you belong. In the country. In the house. With me.”

You couldn’t even comprehend why he was doing this to you, but there was one thing you knew for sure. Something that froze the blood in your veins and renewed your fighting spirit.

The house you were heading straight for wasn’t your parents’.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere ushijima #yandere haikyuu #yandere one shot #one shot #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #ushijima wakatoshi

1K notes · View notes

writingwithcolor · 3 years ago

Text

Argentine trans man with controlling parents; can I code them as Jewish?

@rcsordinaryworld asked:

The main character of a comic is an Argentine trans guy named Levi who ended up being somewhat Jewish coded. I’ve been debating whether to make it explicit, and I’m a little worried about his parents in particular. Part of his story is that he comes from an affluent family, and that his parents are somewhat toxic if not abusive. They’re funding college + transition for him, but on the condition he does what they want him to do. While he himself is a fairly good person, I’m worried about his mother perpetuating antisemitic tropes because she’s pretty manipulative and overbearing and finances are tied into it. Most of my characters are queer with bad parents, but I was wondering how I could handle his backstory respectfully if I did commit to making him Jewish?

If you are Jewish, disregard this part, because you are allowed to write your own experiences: If you’re writing us from the outside what is your motivation for making him Jewish in the first place? Because, yeah, I understand where you’re coming from that this might be messy. The experiences of a Jewish trans man with an unpleasant mother might be something highly specific that even a gentile trans man author with an unpleasant mother wouldn’t be able to capture accurately, or without accidentally stepping into stereotypes.

I understand that writing about queer characters with bad parents puts you in a bind vis a vis marginalized ethnic groups, because it’s tricky to write that setup from the outside of the group without accidentally sounding like a critique of the marginalized group as a whole. (Of course one way to do that is have lots of members of the group counteract the bad parents by treating the queer characters better.)

So yes, I would hesitate before making a character with a manipulative, overbearing, financially abusive mom Jewish if writing from the outside. There’s no reason that plot can’t be written about a gentile, and that way transmasculine Jewish readers won’t feel torn between the affirming validation of your character’s journey and feeling unwelcome and unsure about the portrayal of the mom. (Disclosure: I am not trans, so if you are trans and Jewish please weigh in on the notes.)

If he needs to be Jewish -- can they be bad parents in another way? Like completely preoccupied, or play favorites with a different kid, or something?

- Shira

While I see Shira’s point, I would like to say that this:

>>Most of my characters are queer with bad parents

makes a big difference to me. If I had to pick the Number One Thing to communicate when writing bad Jewish characters, I would probably say make sure it’s clear that they’re not bad because they’re darn Jews. The fact that most of your non-Jewish characters are in the same boat with their own parents, achieves that.

The specifics of this character’s bad traits, using money to control and manipulate, are a little problematic. In my opinion, the money-grabbing and string-pulling tropes are just about avoided, purely because the only victim of the financial abuse is also Jewish. Usually, the stereotype is that we’re conspiring to benefit Jews at the expense of everyone else.

For this reason, you might be able to work with this story if you emphasise the son’s Jewish identity and highlight his positive experiences and personality traits associated with his Jewishness. If that involves finding a community with other Jewish people where he can be safe from the abuse, even better.

It would also help to make some of the other bad parents equally wealthy. I’m starting to see more examples in fiction of Jewishness being used as a synonym or shorthand for privilege, and I’m a little worried this is becoming a modern version of the money-grabbing trope. Diluting this association by having non-Jewish wealthy families would be helpful.

Even with these things in place, not all Jewish readers will agree that the stereotypes have been averted. In particular, I think Shira made an excellent point (which I don’t really feel qualified to expand on) about transmasculine Jewish readers. People in this group may not often get to see people like them in stories, so I don’t know how it would feel for that to be in any way tarnished with even a slight stereotype. Coming back to the fact that most of your characters are queer with bad parents, how interchangeable are their circumstances? Can you simply swap this character arc with someone else’s to avoid the uncomfortableness?

- Shoshi

Though Shira and Shoshi covered things nicely, I'll weigh in briefly as the resident trans/nonbinary Jewish person.

Here are the issues I see at a glance:

A Jewish mother who is manipulative, toxic, abusive, and uses money to get her way

A Jewish man who is cowed by his mother, and vulnerable to financial coercion

An affluent Jewish family who uses their money to control

Now, as you suspected, having an overbearing, manipulative Jewish mother is feeding into a trope that causes constant pain for Jewish women. The idea that Jewish women are shrill, demanding, and unconcerned with the lives, and happiness of others around them is tossed around, even by some in the Jewish community. It's damaging, and also leaves Jewish women vulnerable. I think you could offset the damage by also including Jewish women, and especially maternal figures who are very clearly shown to not be overbearing, and to be generous (or at least not dictatorial ) with their money.

Your character himself is also a concern for me, and one of the reasons I decided to give input, despite Shira and Shoshi covering things very well already. The trope of the domineering Jewish woman is incredibly prevalent, and beside it you will often find the trope of the weak, nebbish of a Jewish man. The idea is that our men are ineffectual, easily cowed, wimpy. In short, the nebbishy Jewish man, written into so much media, is a reflection of the idea that our men are not really men, and how much harder does that stereotype hit, when it's being applied to a Jewish trans man? There is a danger here, when you show your character (who has his own reasons to play along, transitioning socially, or medically can have astronomical attendant costs) bowing to pressures from his family, especially his mother, you are unintentionally reinforcing that negative image of Jewish men, and of trans men.

Finally, the stereotypes of Jewish men, and women, are both combined with the overarching theme I'm seeing here: they have money, and they use it to get what they want, no matter the harm. Now, some people do this, of those people some are parents, inevitably some of those parents are Jewish, but this falls right in line with a third, very dangerous conception of Jewish people: that we all have money, and we use it for harm.

So, like Shira I do wonder what made you want to make this character Jewish. Did you decide arbitrarily, and build the overbearing mother, the money, and the capitulating character himself after that, or did you have those things first, and decide he must be Jewish later? I feel this is a character, and a backstory that can be written, but not without putting in a fair bit of work, and examining your own logic is a part of that. In your writing you will need to show other Jewish people who are not rich, some who are and are not using that money to control. Showing mothers (and maternal figures) who listen, and are gentle, loving, sweet even. Showing Jewish men who are thoughtful, but know their own minds, and are willing to stand up for themselves, and others. It's possible, but certainly will expand your word count, and increase the time spent double-checking your work for these biases, and tropes. If you want to go ahead be ready, and be determined, it's a lot of work.

- Dierdra

#Jewish #abuse #abusive parents #Jewish stereotypes #lgbtqia #representation #abuse tw #Jewish women #Jewish men #Greedy Jew #Transgender #Asks

417 notes · View notes

armenelols · 3 years ago

Text

There isn't enough appreciation for Elrond's and Isildur's friendship.

I think much of this comes from the movies, where our only image of Isildur is his 'no' and Elrond yelling 'Isildur!', and then we see him die because he dives into the river while running away from a battle because the One Ring falls from his finger. Sure, there is some scroll Gandalf reads, but it only makes Isildur seem even more obsessed with the Ring than he already seemed. Add to that Aragorn's rambling about how he and Isildur share blood and weakness and you've got the perfect receipt for evil Isildur and 'cast it into the fire' memes.

Movie!Elrond's 'men are weak' really isn't helping.

So to start with, I think it is necessary to say that I am talking about book!Elrond and book!Isildur here, and while I don't recall either of them calling the other friend, it's a headcanon I have and it is to some extent supported by the books.

In the chapter The Disaster of the Gladden Fields in Unfinished Tales, Isildur shares a few exchanges with his son, Elendur, that I would like to show here.

Elendur went to his father, who was standing dark and alone, as if lost in thought. 'Atarinya,' he said, 'what of the power that would cow these foul creatures and command them to obey you? Is it then of no avail?'

'Alas, it is not, senya. I can not use it. I dread the pain of touching it. And I have not yet found the strength to bend it to my will. It needs one greater than I know myself to be. My pride has fallen. It should go to the Keepers of the Three.'

And later in the chapter:

'My king,' said Elendur, 'Ciryon is dead and Aratan is dying. Your last counsellor must advise, nay command you, as you commanded Ohtar. Go! Take your burden, and at all cost bring it to the Keepers: even at the cost of abandoning your men and me!'

'King's son,' said Isildur, 'I knew that I must do so; but I feared the pain. Nor could I go without your leave. Forgive me, and my pride that has brought you to this doom.'

Earlier in the chapter, we also get this passage talking about Isildur:

When he at last felt free to return to his own realm he was in haste, and he wished to go first to Imladris; for he had left his wife and youngest son there, and he had moreover and urgent need for the counsel of Elrond.

Nearer to the end of the chapter, when talking about Isildur's death, Tolkien writes this:

There suddenly he knew that the Ring had gone. By chance, or chance well used, it had left his hand and gone where he could never hope to find it again. At first so overwhelming was his sense of loss that he struggled no more, and would have sunk and drowned. But swift as it had come the mood passed. The pain had left him. A great burden had been taken away. There he rose up out of the water: only a mortal man, a small creature lost and abandoned in the wilds of Middle-Earth. But to the night-eyed Orcs that lurked there on the watch he loomed up, a monstrous shadow of fear, with a piercing eye like a star. They loosed their poisoned arrows at it, and fled.

And last from this chapter, this bit about the Ring itself:

It was little more than two years since it had left his [Sauron's] hand, and though it was swiftly cooling it was still heavy with his evil will, and seeking all means to return to its lord.

So what does this tell us? And in addition, where was I coming to with Elrond & Isildur friendship?

1. For all of Isildur's refusal to give up the Ring after the war ended here:

'Alas! yes,' said Elrond. 'Isildur took it, as should not have been. It should have been cast then into Orodruin's fire nigh at hand where it was made. But few marked what Isildur did. He alone stood by his father in that last mortal contest; and by Gil-galad only Círdan stood, and I. But Isildur would not listen to our counsel.

' "This I will have as weregild for my father, and my brother," he said; and therefore whether we would or no, he took it to treasure it.

- The Council of Elrond, Fellowship of the Ring

Isildur realized he was wrong. The Ring was still at its most evil, and it wanted to corrupt him, it wanted to go back to Sauron, yet Isildur resisted enough to be able to almost give up the Ring willingly or at least consider it.

When he was slain, he was already taking the Ring to Elrond. Whether he would have the strength to do it later, he resisted the Ring enough to at least consider it. How many would be able to do so? Of course, there was the factor of the very touch of the Ring paining him, but compared with the Ring's will, that's hardly enough to convince a man to give it up.

And at last, when the Ring slipped from his finger, he did not dive after it. He gave it up, and swam away; and even as the orcs killed him, they killed him a free man.

2. He was bringing the Ring to Elrond. At the very beginning I said this post is about Elrond's and Isildur's friendship, and finally, I am talking about it.

It should go to the Keepers of the Three, Isildur says of the Ring - and for that, he would have to know who the Keepers are, or at least know of someone who knows. And it is said repeatedly that he seeks Elrond's counsel, that he goes to Imladris; did he know Elrond has Vilya?

The location of the Three is one of the greatest secrets kept from Sauron, and it is said many times that almost no one knew of it. Did Isildur know, suspect? In addition to this, Elendur seems to have the same knowledge, which, as he is repeatedly called Isildur's greatest confidant, isn't much of a wonder.

All in all, Isildur either connected the dots well enough to realize that out of all high elven lords, it is Elrond bears a ring of power (and Isildur is clever, this is a possibility); or Elrond was not careful enough and Isildur figured it out from his missteps (which, considering Elrond's experience with cursed jewellery isn't very likely); or Elrond gave him hints on purpose; or he just. Straight up told him.

The last two options seem to be most likely to me, which brings me to Elrond trusting Isildur enough to reveal such a secret to him, which leads me to my Elrond and Isildur are friends agenda.

Should the first option be true, props to Isildur for figuring it out by himself without any clues from Elrond other than him being important. Should Isildur be bringing the Ring to Elrond in hopes that Elrond knows who the Keepers of the Three are, without knowing Elrond is one of them, it still shows Isildur trusted Elrond enough to bring him the Ring even for temporary keeping.

(there is also the matter of whether Isildur knows the other Keepers of the Three, as he mentions them a few times, but never enough to indicate if he knows who they are)

3. Parallels. It is said that Elendil and Gil-galad, the two high kings of their people are friends. Is it really so unlikely that Elrond, Gil-galad's herald (and possibly heir, even though he took no crown), and most trusted advisor besides Círdan; and Isildur, the heir of Elendil the Tall and his second in command, would strike a friendship?

The Isildur we are presented with is both bold and wise - he saves the fruit of the White Tree of Númenor alone because it needs to be done, and then he does it again, and he does it because it's the best for his people. He takes the Ring, and tries to make it listen to him, and realizes he made a mistake; he tries to fix it, and wants to bring it to Elrond.

The Isildur we are presented with has courage, and wisdom, and hope.

Do you know what does this remind me of?

Edain. Their ideals. The reasons why they got the gift of Númenor, greater wisdom, longer lives.

They resisted the evil, no matter how strong; they were loyal, true to their beliefs, brave and courageous.

Elros was chosen as the king of the Edain and really, I highly doubt Edain would choose him as a king just because of his heritage, or because someone told them to do so. Sure, someone could have pointed out Elros to them and say 'hey, look at this dude, he could be a nice king, what do you think?' but in the end, while they might start following Elros because someone else told them, I doubt they would let themselves be led by someone who wasn't the best representation of them. In Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth, Andreth does not shy away from telling Finrod her beliefs, the beliefs of her people. And I don't think that changed with time.

What am I trying to say? I think Elros and Isildur were both similar in many ways, in ways that made them the leaders they were - and that in a way, Elrond saw Elros in Isildur, as well as himself; for Elrond still connected strongly with his mortal kin, and as I mentioned earlier, their political positions were similar.

And while Isildur was his own person and had done things neither Elros or Elrond would have done, and had his own good and bad qualities, it doesn't erase the similarities.

4. Aragorn was raised in Rivendell, by his mother and Elrond and his people. Of all the people there, it is easy to see which ones would influence him the most: Gilraen, Elrond, Elladan, Elrohir. It is repeatedly shown how close he was to them. To some extent we may include Glorfindel, for they were friends, but not as much as the above mentioned four.

Now, as Estel, he wasn't aware of his heritage. He is shown to be proud of his heritage, of his descend from Isildur; and yes, this could be a simple pride in one's ancestors. It could have been that he simply liked Isildur as a historical legendary figure and it became greater after he learnt of his descend from him. Or it could have been that he was told many tales of Isildur, of his deeds and personality, and his family, and decided I want to be like him, and like Elendil, even without knowing he was in any way related to them.

And really, when it comes to the above-mentioned people, who would be the most likely to tell him stories of Isildur? Gilraen who only knew him from stories, or Glorfindel who was never mentioned around Isildur in the books, or Elladan and Elrohir, born after Isildur's death, who could have any number of first-hand stories about hundreds of Aragorn's cool ancestors but not Isildur himself?

All I am saying is there is a potential for Elrond to be telling stories of his old friend Isildur and Elendil and Gil-galad to Estel, and Estel loving them.

There is also the fact that in the chapter The Disaster of the Gladden Fields, Elendur, Isildur's son, is said to be very similar to Aragorn. And I love the idea of Elrond's and Isildur's sons paralleling each other, in a strange way, thousands of years apart.

5. In the books themselves, we do no see Elrond speaking about Isildur much. (I checked almost every mention of Isildur in most of my Tolkien books. So yeah.) On the Council of Elrond, Elrond talks about Isildur the most, but it is mainly in historical manner and 'the Ring should have been destroyed that day' manner, as you can see in the passage from the book I mentioned above in point 1.

This doesn't tell us much about their relationship, much less their friendship - and thus as a source for my image of them as friends, I give the place to The Disaster of the Gladden Fields, thinking they would make a good duo, and the potential of how Isildur's death may have had affected Elrond.

Isildur's death was unexpected. No one expected the road not to be safe - there is a reason why Isildur and his men were unprepared for a battle. They were simply journeying on a familiar road, to Rivendell and then Arnor. Not even the Orcs that ambushed them knew of the Ring. In Rivendell, they learnt of what happened only thanks to Ohtar, Isildur's squire who survived; and even then, the specific circumstances of his death were not revealed until Aragorn found Elendilmir and the chain which bore the Ring among Saruman's things.

In all honesty, I don't think even Elrond knew Isildur planned on giving him the Ring. I do not doubt he expected him, for his wife and youngest son were in Imladris - but I found no reason as to why he might know of Isildur's plans with the Ring.

That could give him a reason to speak ill of Isildur, couldn't it? Yet when he speaks of him, he only speaks of facts and what should have been done - he doesn't call Isildur too weak to give up the ring, or power-hungry, or proud - and by the latter, Isildur calls himself several times (as can be seen here, in the passages I used above)

It needs one greater than I know myself to be. My pride has fallen.

And here:

Forgive me, and my pride that has brought you to this doom.

And yes, it was a formal Council - Elrond had no reason to speak of his personal feelings towards Isildur. Yet I think the little he said reflects his thoughts well. He might have felt some bitterness towards him, especially as he later learnt what the Ring's nature truly was; and especially as he had no knowledge of Isildur being willing to give the Ring to him, for better or worse, whether he would find the strength to do so or not.

Still, once Elrond learnt of the Ring's Nature, I think he might have understood Isildur better - especially as he himself did not dare to even touch the Ring.

137 notes · View notes

sortasirius · 4 years ago

Text

“Inherit the Earth” and the Fakeout

Absolutely genius. Amazing, iconic, legendary, something only our showrunner Andrew Dabb can pull off.

"But Lilly, the episode was so bad! It was just the brothers, they didn’t look for Cas and Eileen!”

YES. THAT IS EXACTLY THE POINT. THIS WAS A FAKE ENDING, THE END OF THE SEASON, NOT OF THE SERIES.

Let’s get into it.

An empty world. No one left but Sam, Dean, and Jack.

So Dean ran, he somehow managed to pick himself up off the floor of the dungeon and meet up with Sam and Jack. That jacket was this silent reminder. Remember what I’ve been saying, Cas has occupied the negative space all season, this is no exception.

Dean can’t look either of them in the face, he’s doing that thing, where his eyes move everywhere BUT where he should look.

“I couldn’t save anybody.”

Sam couldn’t save the world and Dean couldn’t save the one person that means the world to him.

“Where’s Cas?”

“Dean?”

I think it’s there, in that pause where Dean tries to push down the emotions, continue the fight, not think about the memories he left in the bunker, that Jack realizes what must have happened. Jack is the only one that knows about the deal, he has to know what Cas not being there must mean.

“He saved me. Billie was coming after us. Cas summoned the Empty. It took her...and took him. Cas is gone.”

This may shock you, but I am GLAD they didn’t talk about Cas, especially with what happens at the end of the episode. Cas is allowed to just take up unsaid space. It’s obvious he’s missing with the way they blocked things, obvious he’s missing here. This whole “oh well they don’t care about Cas because they didn’t talk about him”? Malarkey.

“Jack I’m sorry.”

Guilt. Regret. Pain. Dean will carry this with him for the rest of his life. Not only that he lost Cas, but that Sam lost Cas, that Jack lost Cas.

That SHOT, with the distance between Jack and Sam where Cas is SUPPOSED TO BE, and then a zoom out to...THE WORLD.

Okay, as usual, Bucklemming has the subtlety of a sledgehammer lmao.

Jack crying??? Praying to Cas???? Bruh?????

Also it’s just straight-up frightening for everything around my boy to die he is my baby son.

Also not to point out the incredibly obvious, but Dean starts drinking immediately, and continues drinking throughout the whole episode. Grief arc 2.0 babey.

“We can what, Dean? There’s no one left to save! Everybody’s gone!”

“You can’t just give up.”

“What other choice do we have!”

Idk why, but for Sam, who’s the constant, the one who’s always had hope, through everything, through all these years, when he finally says this, when he finally loses his hope? It hits the hardest. Sam is the leader, so not only is he grieving the loss of Eileen, he is a general grieving the loss of his soldiers, his friends, the world that he feels the duty to save.

When they go to meet Chuck, I just can’t get that image of Dean, leaning against the car, handprint still on his jacket, staring at the ground out of my head. It takes him a few seconds to catch up to Sam, like he’s pulled out of thoughts like deep dark water. Remember friends, it doesn’t have to be loud to be powerful.

Chuck wearing BLACK? FEAR.

“That’s right, the whole Cain and Abel thing. Us dead, whatever. I’ll kill Sam, Sam’ll kill me, we’ll kill each other. Okay, you pick. But first? You gotta put everything back the way it was. The people, the birds...Cas. You gotta bring him back.”

Willing to kill his brother. Willing to die. Tears in his eyes, begging God to bring Cas back.

And Chuck? Chuck doesn’t care about their surrender, he knows he’s already got them beaten. He cares about their pain, he cares about them suffering, because to him? That’s the entertainment. He’s not entertained by their found family, by their happiness, by their joy. He wants them to suffer, all of them.

“Eternal shame. Suffering. And loneliness.”

And he leaves them with just that. No hope, no family, just the three of them, broken, alone. Jack locked in his bedroom, Sam trying desperately to make life “normal” again. And Dean. Dean who drank so much he passed out on the floor.

He doesn’t feel terrific, he feels like shit, because not only is he dealing with the shame of an empty planet, he’s dealing with the guilt of being back in the place where the Empty took Cas.

This whole thing with the dog was just absolutely heartwrenching shit and if I didn’t hate Chuck before, him snapping Miracle right in front of an already fragile Dean would seal that deal.

I just want everyone to know that this is a Jake Abel stan account.

“Daddy’s boy” is a big insult for my boy Dean to use considering his own past with his trash abusive father but I’ll allow it.

I do think it’s interesting, ending of his arc aside, that Michael is willing to help them now. What changed? Sure, he ended up trying to help Chuck, running back to his father, but why get back in the game? I wonder if it has anything to do with the loss of Adam. It’s an interesting parallel, a man loses his angel while an angel loses his human.

Everything is so DARK in the Bunker now too, even the lighting is loud.

When I tell you I lost my shit when I saw Cas was calling Dean, when I heard Misha’s voice?? I knew it didn’t make any sense but I didn’t care, I would’ve been one step behind Dean as he sprinted towards the door.

Fuck you, Eugenie.

I mean it’s torture not only to Dean, who looks beyond fucking crushed when it’s damn Lucifer at the door, but for us too. Who the FUCK wanted Lucifer back? And to tease Cas??? Garbage.

I mean...fam. Listen, we know who’s writing this episode, this whole Betty thing is just like blatantly unnecessary but again, Eugenie loves Lucifer, gotta distract her with a shiny toy lmao.

It was cool to see Michael and Lucifer onscreen together. It was a cool dynamic that we rarely got to see.

The whole episode is just twist after twist. Listen, it’s their last episode so I guess they needed to fit in a season worth of twists in one episode.

Bye Lucifer. We know Eugenie can’t bring him back. Blessings to all.

This scene with Adam is the FOURTH scene where Dean is drinking...big yikes to my guy’s liver.

Here’s the thing about Michael. He’s a mirror for Dean in season 5. Loyal to an absent father. He has never changed, but Dean has. Dean is able to acknowledge now, the trauma that his father put him through, he was able to move past the need for pleasing him at any cost. Michael and Chuck? Are John and Dean, if Dean had never been allowed to grow. And Chuck proves, like John did, that he would always put his wants (in John’s case “the mission”) over his children.

Also not to beat a dead horse but Michael’s death was also peak Eugenie.

Sam getting to punch Chuck in the face? Thank you, he deserves that.

Obviously I don’t love any scene of my boys getting brutally beaten. But what I love, what I will always love about them, is what Chuck hates about them: they won’t ever give up. They know they won’t win against him, they don’t even land any hits, but that’s not what matters. What matters is their controller doesn’t control them anymore, that they really are free. No matter how hard they get hit, the get back up. It is their choice to stand up to him, no matter the cost.

The moment where Sam and Dean are supporting each other, covered in blood, and they look God in the face, and they laugh. That is why I will love them unconditionally for the rest of my life. That is who they are, they will never cow to the villain, whether that’s Azazel or Alastair or Zachariah or Lucifer or Amara or Death or Metatron or Cain or God. They will always choose to stand up.

“Why are you smiling?”

“Because. You lose.”

Chills. What a line.

And Chuck is left, small, human, no longer a villain, no longer anything.

Gotta be real, woulda been nice to, idk, not see all this essential plot in a flashback, but I know I can only ask so much of Bucklemming.

For Dean to walk away from killing Chuck, right after he’s called him “the ultimate killer” is quite simply the most beautifully heartwrenching thing I could ever ask for. Because that’s who Dean was under Chuck, that’s who Chuck wanted him to be.

And he would have before:

But he’s heard some things since then, heard some things about how others see him. Not as the killer, not as a monster, not as angry and broken or his daddy’s blunt instrument:

I’m not saying that Dean doesn’t kill Chuck for Cas. He doesn’t kill Chuck because he doesn’t think he has to anymore, he doesn’t kill Chuck because he listened to Cas, he took Cas’ words to heart. He made the choice not to be the killer.

“See that’s not who I am, that’s not who we are.”

And Chuck is angry, because he thought, after everything, even after losing, that he would still know Dean well enough to know that he would kill him. But Chuck has never really known Dean, he has never understood where he’s really come from. Cas understood, Sam and Jack understand, but Chuck never did, and writing off Dean as angry and broken is his biggest mistake, because that’s never been Dean.

“It’s not his power anymore.”

And it’s not just his physical power, it’s his power over the story, over the boys that’s the real power taken from him.

For Jack to be the one to bring everyone back, for him to be the hero of the story? That’s poetic right there. Now, I will say, I don’t think this story ends with him as God, because for him, the child, to take on this burden, it doesn’t make a ton of sense to me for his arc, but we shall see next week. It felt pretty tied up, but there’s one major loose end: and that’s Jack seeing Cas again.

“Just you and me, going wherever the story takes us. Just us.”

“Finally free.”

This doesn’t feel triumphant to me, it doesn’t feel like relief. It feels like they’ve settled, like this is the best they’re going to get, so they might as well make the best of it, at least they have each other.

For Cas and Jack to be carved into the table? I cry.

And for the montage, very similar to “Swan Song” to be set to “Runnin on Empty”? Sorry but that’s just too sus to be ignored.

They packaged this episode as an ending, because for many, it might be. The season’s story, the season about fighting Chuck is over. So, you might be asking (or, well, screaming, judging by my replies lol), what’s left? And that’s a good question, Chuck has been defeated, so what is left? What’s left is what’s really mattered all season: the relationships that have been crafted over the years. Dean and Sam’s unhappiness at the end of the episode, where “just you and me” sounded more of a grudging acceptance than anything else, is one of the clues that has to be looked at. Why didn’t Sam find Eileen, why didn’t Jack bring back Cas? Those two characters specifically are the ones we need to watch out for. As I’ve said over and over again, peace, contentment, satisfaction, those don’t come from Sam and Dean on the open road together anymore. They have a family, more of a family than they did when they started hunting together all those years ago, and that family is what holds them together. They need each other, of course, but each other isn’t enough anymore. Sam needs Eileen, Dean needs Cas. That is where they will find their peace.

This episode, as many written by Bucklemming was sloppy, rushed, packed full of shit, and had little gems that we can talk about forever, but that was the end of the season, and next week? Andrew Dabb brings us home, where Dean and Sam will finally be able to choose what they want for themselves, and that, my friends, is Eileen and Cas.

#supernatural #spn #spoilers #my meta #spn 15x19 #destiel #saileen

784 notes · View notes

youalexturnermeon · 4 years ago

Text

Tiny (Johnny Lawrence x Reader)

Request: Could I get a one shot with Cobra Kai! Johnny making fun of the readers height cause she’s so small and complaining (but joking) that he always has to bend down to give her kisses by Anon

A/N: It’s a long blurb or a short one shot of Johnny and the reader jokingly fighting in the morning. See for yourself, I suck at author’s notes.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, play fighting

Wordcount: 883

“Johnny have you seen my bra?” you called through the apartment after you got out of a shower, getting ready for your morning shift, wrapped in a towel, hair wet, dripping on the floor. You were on your knees, holding your towel together with one hand rummaging in a pile of clothes next to the bed with the other, where you thought you had thrown your bra last night, but it wasn’t there amongst Johnny’s shirts and your own.

“Johnny!”

„You mean that one, babe?” you suddenly heard the familiar raspy voice behind you. You turned around and saw Johnny standing there, leaning in the doorframe to your bedroom, a little lacy black piece of clothing was hanging on his index finger, teasingly with a dirty smirk on his lips, he let it swing from side to side. You loved how he looked in the morning, with his messy blonde hair, the sleepy blue eyes, showing off his toned body whilst not wearing anything besides grey sweatpants, not yet ready to let the day begin.

“Yes!”

“It was hanging on the doorknob after we got ready for bed yesterday” he said winking at you. You stood up and you were about to take it from his hand since he was so nicely offering that to you. But when you almost grabbed the lacy fabric, he threw his hand up in the air, making it impossible for you to reach. He was clearly enjoying himself, he loved to tease you.

“Very funny,” you exclaimed sarcastically and tried to jump, desperately trying to get a hold of your bra but Johnny once again held his hand up a little higher. He was a lot taller than you, his head towered inches above yours. Usually, it was amazing since he always could rest his head on yours whilst hugging you from behind, it was also a plus when he could easily pick you up and carry you around, mostly into the bedroom, without any effort. But sometimes he just had to overdo it and mock you for being so tiny compared to him. And it was his most favourite thing to do to amuse himself at your cost. Just like now, you could see his grin getting wider and more mischievous up there. You rolled your eyes. You hated it.

“Give it back, Johnny, I’ll be late.”

“God, I love this little pout on these delicious lips of yours, but why don’t you get it yourself, babe?” he teased, jiggling the black lace now further down, almost in front of your face where you were able to reach. You tried to snatch it and yet Johnny decided to let his little game continue. As soon as your fingers slightly traced the fabric, he quickly raised his arm back up and you grabbed into thin air.

“Johnny, you motherfucker, this is not funny! Give me my fucking bra. Stop teasing me about my hight. It’s not fair that you’re such a giant and taking advantage of it.”

Johnny laughed, “You’re complaining about me being too tall?” he asked, still clearly amused by his own joke, “What about you being so fucking tiny? That’s not fair as well.”

“Oh, fuck you, Johnny!” You were not having any of those and just kept on trying to get what belonged to you. And while he was playing on, you were jumping up, struggling to hold your towel up, attempting to climb up Johnny himself. Yet that didn’t tickle him at all.

“You never think about me,” he kept on with his speech whilst successfully blocking any of your attempts to defeat him, “You never think about how hard it is for me to bend down all the damn time to kiss you. Has it ever crossed your mind how by back might be suffering?”

“Maybe your back is suffering because you’re too old.”, now it was your time to tease.

“Hey, is me doing Martial Arts multiple times a week for several hours a joke to you? I’m super fit. I’m the fittest of them all”

“Maybe if you did more Karate yourself instead of torturing the poor kids, you’d be even fitter, and your back would be fine.”

“Hey, watch your mouth, (Y/N),” Johnny chuckled and out of sudden, wrapped his arms around you so tight that you simply had to quit all of your struggles to get your laced bra back. He smirked from his triumph and leaned his forehead against yours whilst you automatically tiptoed and wrapped your hands around his neck, your breath promptly quickened, the towel around your body a lot looser. The skin of his bare chest hot against yours. But if he was playing games with you, so were you.

“Or what?” you retorted “Are you gonna bend even further down and kiss me?”

“Well, since you’re clearly asking for it, I will!”

“Oh please, watch your back th-“

But Johnny already cut you off by doing exactly as promised and placed his hot lips on yours, passionately kissing you, making your head spin like crazy, not once parting from you. Until he suddenly lifted you off your feet.

“I don’t always have to watch my back” he said smiling “Because I simply love toc pick you up.” And Johnny kissed you again.

***********************************************************************

You know the drill, please let me know what you think of it

Taglist: @lililolli @cow-smells

#johnny lawrence #johnny lawrence x reader #johnny lawrence imagine #johnny lawrence x you #johnny lawrence fluff #cobra kai #cobra kai imagine #karate kid #karate kid imagine

663 notes · View notes

palaceofpassion · 3 years ago

Text

When the Cows Come Home.

Patreon Reward! I suppose I should start adding more non ask stuff cause ya know, everything died!

BRRRR-`

SLAM

Jaune’s hand hit the alarm clock before it even had the chance to really get going, his eyes snapping open and his body jumping straight off the bed. “Good morning!” He rose with a mighty shout, causing the empty home around him to tremble with his mighty yell. A smile slapped across his face as he scurried forward, his body and mind ready for the day to come. A quick dash to the shower, half an hour later, and he was ready to go and hit the day with all his might.

“Ah! Nothing quite like a hot shower in the morning to get ready.” And, as he headed downstairs, his mind ignoring the empty echo of his footsteps. “Time to get started.” Dressed head to toe in denim, boots tightly bound to his feet, and a large hat to block out the sun's rays he knew that today was going to be a good day.

And like every day, this was how Jaune Arc started his mornings, before the sun began to rise he was out and about. Now one may wonder, what was the young Arc doing up so early in the day? Well the answer was simple, he had a responsibility, and he would be darned if he didn’t follow through with it. Even if he was the last remaining Arc holding down the fort he would continue what his ancestors started.

With one quick turn back to his home he allowed himself a small frown, he’d be lying to say he didn’t MISS his family… oh wait no! It wasn't like they were dead or anything. They’d all just wanted something else in their lives, and well his parents wanted to retire and his sisters just moved on. But, as he made his way towards the barn… he realized he’d never be able to leave this place. After all, if he did leave, who would take care of the girls? THUD The doors swung open as he took a step into the lovely stable. “G’morning girls.” And he smiled, brightly as he was met with the pleasant and waiting smiles of three gorgeous heifers.

“Morning Jaune!”

May was just… he shuddered as he eyed the gorgeously tanned heifer, her massive watermelon sized breasts swayed back and forth as she excitedly beckoned him. She’d been so shy when he’d gotten her, and well look at her now! He couldn’t help but feel proud.

“Good Morning.”

Ciel was something else indeed, massive swells jiggled freely as she tried to hide her enthusiasm for the coming activities. Even if her breasts were smaller than May, she made up with the most… delectable ass in existence.

TAP TAP TAP

“Neo! Watch your language!”

The last of his girls, a short heifer, bound with a large chest, wide hips, and large ass. Neo had lost the ability to speak long before he’d picked her up and saved her from a life as breeding stock. While she’d softened, she HAD QUITE the mouth on her.

“Alright then…” He shook his head as the shorter girl waved him off, her eyes flashing dangerously as she gave a quick snap at her cow printed bikini. A smile showed that she was ready and waiting for them to get started, though from the very scent wafting off of the three, he could tell they were all ready. And… as he remembered what his sisters had told him long ago, a well bred cow is a well milked cow.

So- “Alright, Neo, you’re up first.”

TAP TAP!

He chuckled to himself as he unhooked her fenced zone letting the tiny troublemaker out. She quickly made her way over to the large pumping machine, something that had cost him a PRETTY penny. But it had made his life so much easier, after all just like his sisters had said again! Or at least what Saph had said, “Remember, breeding your heifers while they’re being milked is the best way to get the highest quality milk.”

If he was being honest, he didn’t believe her but… as Neo got herself ready, propping herself onto the specially cow shaped bed, letting her feet rest at the tail ends and splitting her legs apart. He just couldn’t resist, now could he? Especially not as his eyes followed the shimmering trail running down her inner thighs, leading to her moist core, the g string of her bikini wedged solidly between her plump vulvas.

“Well then…”

He hastily prepared the pumping machine, and watched as the suction began to work its magic. Her thick round nipples began to tense inside and her face contorted into slight pleasure. “Time to get started.” Thump. His pants hit the ground as he positioned himself between her thighs, and as his hands touched down upon her legs he could feel her practically vibrate in anticipation.

He of course was a gentleman, and knew not to keep a lady waiting. So without further adieu he pressed the meaty head of his cock against her already slippery slit and slid it straight through. Her body tensed for a moment as he pushed against her cervix, a bulge forming against her belly as he found himself grinding into her uterus pushing her organs up just a tad bit.

Her smaller body had always made it easy for him to see his handy work, and as he began to shift his hips, pulling back as the bulge inside of her started to slip away, he found himself simply enticed to do it again.

Hands firmly grasped onto her once more, his fingers digging into her boney hips as he suddenly slammed back. Her back arched and her toes curled as he let himself thud inside of her once more.

He could see her hands grasp at her hair as she tried to scream out in pleasure. A smirk crossed his face as he pulled back once more and then let loose another powerful smack. Fleshy bits meet, and their bodies collide. SMACK SMACK SMACK

His body began to move on its own as her lithe form tightened around him. Her moist cavity grasped upon his cock, each ridgey lump squeezed upon his veiny weighty cock. And everytime he tried to pull out she would only tighten more, her pussy tugging along with his member as she did so.

Their bodies continued to meet in pleasure until the pumping finally came to an end. And, as a reward for her good deeds he let loose a torrent of white inside of her. Her back arching once more and her nails grasping onto the side of the bed. Her eyes rolled back as she lost herself to a powerful orgasm, allowing her body to fall into a nice little rest as he did so.

For what it was worth, “You lasted longer than usual.” Jaune took note of the time, a clock installed onto the wall above, an hour had passed. “Okay, good thing I got stamina.”

Pulling his cock out of her with a POP, what followed was a flooding rush of thick white goo spreading onto the soil beneath them.

Not even wasting time, Ciel came up. Despite being the most ‘mature’ of the trio, she was always excited, internally, for a good ol fashion milking fuck.

“Excuse me, I do believe it is my turn.”

Jaune smiled, she pretended to be calm on the outside, but he could see the way her hips swayed, her big juicy ass wobbling back and forth as she did so. “Of course.”

He quickly pulled Neo off the machine, resting her to the side on a nice stack of hay.

“Well then… get on.”

Ciel shook her head, “I would rather…” She turned back to the machine and made her way over. Finding a medium height branch off the bedding she bent over. “This will suffice.”

Once more Jaune simply rolled his eyes, but as her big bare ass swayed back and forth, the sun's light glistening off the juicy posterior, he couldn’t resist. Wrapping around he set her up, this time a soft moan escaped her lips. “OooOh~”

Jaune smiled, the normally stern girl becoming soft as dough under his touch. “Good girl.” His hand was already in motion before his mind even formulated his next plan. SMACK The base of his palm met her massive mounds of soft flesh. Ciel shivered, her body bucking at the point of impact, her plump posterior rippling outwards.

“Ahng~” Her voice echoed as she felt the pressure of his cock squeeze against her soft sex. A terrible tremble tremored through her form as he pushed inside of her. Her teeth bit down upon her lip as she squeezed her eyes shut. His thick cock punching in and out of her tightly wound body always did THINGS to her.

The orderly woman began to melt, her form finally relaxing as she fell to the rhythmic thrusts of her beloved master. SMACK SMACk SMACK.

Their bodies pressed together, his hands tightly squeezing upon her soft and supple flesh. His hips smacked and rolled against her bottom, cock twitching and plucking at her precious core.

Ciel, for all her bluster, gave in rather quickly. Her body seizing as small shakes began to spread from her womb. Her body shivered and jolted, her muscles tightened and her mind ran blank as he began to fill her with his own precious milk. Her womb began to fill, thick globs of seed poured inside of her ballooning her belly with miraculous speed.

And just like with Neo, Jaune pulled out, allowing the girl to fall silently into the bedding.

“Phew~ That’s a good girl.” His fingers ran through her rump, squeezing and sinking into the soft fleshy folds. “Now then.”

Before he even had the chance to fully turn around he was suddenly tackled to the ground. Straddle upon him now sat the sex crazed May. Her gaze consumed with lust, her pupils having completely shifted into shaking hearts. “Well now.”

He wasn’t surprised of course, well not anymore at least. “Me! Me! Me!”

May couldn’t help herself, the Barn was practically radiating with thick sexual pheromones and she had waited SO VERY LONG!

“Milk me! FUCK ME!”

Jaune smiled, though that smile turned into a contorted screw of pleasure as she propped herself up and down on his cock, taking full control of the situation. The massively busty cowgirl couldn’t wait any longer, her body already on automatic as she began to bounce herself up and down his massive shaft.

And in it went, slicked with thick layers of cum and love juices he was able to slide right inside of her without a problem. His member pushed all the way down her depths punching right against her cervix and pushing her inner wall up and against the other side of her uterus.

So she screamed with all her might, “YES YES YES!” She wanted more, her body already acting on its own as she bounced herself up and down, the sound of her wide ass smacking against his hips, the pendulum swing of his big full balls bouncing up to smack her bottom echoing from around them.

She didn’t even care about being milked at this point, her massive tits swayed and flopped up and down as she unrelentingly pushed herself further down upon him. She loved the way he made her feel, his cock stretching her insides, rupturing against her inner membranes and slamming against her needy cavern.

The more she pushed off of him, the harder her breasts flung. Thick droplets of pure white began to seep from her nipples, with every thud against her chest she began to leak more and more of her precious white nectar.

Jaune wasn’t about to let it go to waste however, thinking quickly he reached out, spearing his hands upwards and folding them into her soft and squishy sacks of fat. His digits dug into her flesh, squeezing and massaging at the fatty milk jugs. Pulling his strength he lunged forward, knocking May onto her back as he started to thrust. “YEEESSSSH!” She squealed in joy as he bit down upon her plump nubs, his lips tugging and suckling upon the delicious teets.

He was going to lose a bit of profit today, but getting the chance to drink right from the source was ALWAYS a pleasure.

His body reacting to the new found flavors began to plunge further into his orgasm. Heifer milk had a ‘special’ effect to it, it heightened sexual appetite, increased sex drive, and of course. “YES CUM INSIDE ME!”

It helped stimulate sexual orgasms!

And so he did, his cock twitching, pulsing, and finally convulsing inside of her released an unrelenting torrent of semen. His thick cum began to flush forward, as her hungry ovaries did their best to consume the newly invading substance in hopes of making room for more.

And as he pinned her to the ground, her body unable to push back even if she wanted to, he found himself surrounded by his other precious girls. A smile crossed his face as he released May’s soaping tit, a rancher’s job was never done.

#may zedong #jaune arc #ciel soleil #neo rwby

92 notes · View notes

masterswrd · 4 years ago

Text

Hannibal Fashion Meta Pt. 1

I’m just gonna cover Hannibal’s two hetero cosplays from S1 E1 Apéritif and some suit basics that are gonna be a reoccuring.

This outfit is bad. Yes, he’s very pretty still but this is a bad look.

Hannibal knows how to wear a monochromatic outfit, he does it all the time. Right now he looks like a homophobic paper bag or like a republican that’s going to sell me a house in Arizona. He looks like he’s wearing a bad version of what Franklyn is wearing in this episode, which was probably his inspiration for these two outfits.

It’s very pedestrian, very American, and really an outfit that I think anybody who has the money could slap this on and it would be fine. Looking regular is the antithesis to his normal style. He likes attention. If he didn’t, he’d dress like this all the time. I’d avoid eye contact with him too, Will.

Thanks to the prop auction, I foumd out that the whole outfit is off the rack, which is unimaginable for Hannibal.

This is a suede Ralph Lauren sport coat running around $1300 USD. It’s nice. Pick stiching (the straight running stich) up the lapels are a nice detail and are usually done to show the garment was handmade. Standard Two-button. If Hannibal isn’t wearing a double breated jacket, his jacket is going to have two buttons. That’s due to it being a feature of Italian suits which Hannibal loves to wear. This one probably has them because of the rack suits tend to have two since it fits nicer kn a wider range of bodies than three buttons would. You leave the last button undone for movement and you unbutton both when you sit down to not crease the fabric.

The reason this particular jacket looks bad when you rewatch the show is because we’re used to seeing Hannibal in bespoke suits that show off his figure and this is an off the rack jacket. Almost everything he wears is bespoke. He goes to a talior, picks the fabric, tells them what he wants and they make him a brand new suit that nobody else on earth owns.

The 100% cashmere v-neck sweater is also Ralph Lauren running him around $400 USD. Again, it’s nice, but this outfit has purposefully bad color matching to make him look plain jane and nerdy.

The italian wool pants are Zenella running $350. Nice quality. Probably the only pants you’ll see him wearing that has belt loops. I’ll venmo $20 to the first person who can show me a picture wearing a belt. (I promise). All of his pants are bespoke or tailored to fit his waist. Which you need if you wear 3 piece suits and you don’t want to mess up how your waistcoat is laying.

So we’re at $2000 for this one. He probably donated the whole ensamble to a thrift store because he’s canonically eco-friendly and wouldn’t just throw it away but he’s also canonically a bad bitch and wouldn’t be caught dead wearing this again.

This outfit is actually pretty good, for anybody who isn’t Hannibal Lecter fashion icon. Afterall, he had breakfast with his crush and lives to ruin so he let his own fashion slip in a tad.

The jacket is bespoke and a glimps at what Hannibal actually wears in his day to day. We can tell that from the italian cut, the notched lapels that you can find on most of his jackets, and the cuffs.

These are surgeon cuffs, which Hannibal loves. Developed for on the go battlefield surgeons, these buttons woukd be undone, allowing them to roll up their sleeves to avoid getting them covered in blood. Back in 19th century London most people who could afford getting swanked out in bespoke suits were surgeons like Hannibal so they became a status symbol. (The Ralph Laurent jacket above also had surgeon cuffs.)

The buttons themselves and how they lay are also interesting. They look like horn buttons (cow or buffalo horn usually) which are probably authentic because he would never get a bespoke suit and get plastic buttons on them. The overlapping style of how they lay are called “kissing buttons” which is very common for italian suits, done to show that they were hand stictched. Very cute.

I’m assuming that Hannibal had this made at his regular tailor so he already owned it. It takes a while to make a jacket from scratch. It’s a nice jacket and I’m not mad at it.

The merino wool sweater is John Smedley, a british brand for luxury knitwear, and costs $485. It looks almost exactly like his other one but this one is higher quality and fits better. The neckline is deep because it’s supposed to be worn with a tie. Again, probably something he grabbed out of his own closet. Very lovely.

The pants are again, italian wool, Zenella. $350, just like before. Not that interesting if you’re normally in bespoke pants that are part of a matching set.

This outfit was like the last one, deliberately chosen to make him look plain and regular and nobody of consequence.

Hannibal never dresses like this again because this was him playing the part of a unassuming psychiatrist who didn’t want to be noticed. He wanted to sit and observe what the FBI does when they go after a serial killer without people looking at him. Not even Will paid very close attention to him.

Hannibal also just doesn’t do semi-formal. He doesn’t like dressing like this. Why would he dress like this when he can wear whatever he wants and he’s not straight so he’ll probably never walk into another Macy’s again.

[ Part Two ]

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #sorry dr lecter this was more of a drag and a review than a meta #matt writes #long post /#if there are typos lmk im psychotic so i cant spell or read #w.txt #my correct hannibal posts #hannibal fashion

951 notes · View notes

bffsoobin · 4 years ago

Text

Spurred On

↳ Every year you worked your uncle’s fair simply for the extra cash and free food. It was far from glamorous, but you’d long since decided the benefits outweigh the costs. That was until you were forced into tending to the massive, intimidating cows your uncle raised for show. Hopefully, the new ranch hand can ease some of your pain.

➤ cowboy!yeonjun x reader, fluff, a lil angsty (you shouldn’t be surprised), they have tension but in a good way, suggestive, mutual pining, stereotypical Country Boy shit

Word Count: 8,102

Warnings: none other than some swearing and some making out (a little tiny bit suggestive)

A/N: I had absolutely no plans to write another fic anytime soon but seeing Yeonjun’s teaser possessed me so here I am to deliver a cowboy!Yeonjun fic I never ever knew I needed. And yes the fair mentioned is based off of the one I go to every year in my college town and the one that happens in my own home town every summer too okay don’t judge me shhhh

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

Sweat was beading on your forehead, streaming down the sides of your face in an almost constant torrent as you wiped a wet rag over every cleanable surface you could find. Every summer since you turned 16, you had helped your uncle set up and run his annual fair. It was far from perfect, but the job gave you some extra cash to spend and copious amounts of fair food to eat to your heart’s content. This year, you had managed to secure a spot working at the funnel cake stand- which had always been your favorite- and a promise from your uncle that you would get to go on all the fair rides for free.

It was a very busy day, as there was only one more day to go before the grounds opened to the public. All day you had been cleaning and helping people who rented barns to show their livestock find the way in. From where you stood now, you could see the line of barns and the people bustling back and forth from them. Arguably the busiest man you knew, your uncle, was hurrying over to you with a slightly panicked look on his face.

“Miranda went into labor,” he simply stated. If it were possible, he was even sweatier than you had become, with a thick layer of dirt on his hands and part of his face.

“Okay...” you began, unsure of where he was going as you turned your attention back to wiping down the funnel cake machine.

“So that means Steven can’t help me with the cows, an’ they’re here now and I can’t expect the new ranch hand to it all himself.”

Blankly, you stared at him, still totally unsure why he was bringing this problem to you.

“So that means I need you fill in for Steven for a few weeks. Working in the barn.” Your uncle prodded, gesturing behind him to the barn bustling with activity as the cows were being ushered into their hay covered stalls.

“No!” You groaned, dropping the wet rag with a plop. “No, I had to fight with my sister to get the funnel cake spot and now you’re gonna demote me to cows?” This had to be some kind of sick joke. Your uncle sighed, laying a heavy hand onto your shoulder and squeezing.

“Please, Y/N. Your funnel cake spot will stay open for you until Steven comes back, I promise. But for now, if you want paid, you have to go to the barn.”

----

By now, you were used to the scent of a barn. Your uncle had been showing cows for as long as you can remember, and as a child you often spent time following his older kids around the barn and caring for cows.

As you stepped in now, you found yourself cringing at the chaos. Although you had always worked the fair, you never came close to dealing with any of the livestock shows, especially involving your uncle’s own group of hulking animals. The barn was as nice as a barn could get, with layers of hay on the floor and pens lined with silver food and water buckets adorning each one. Handmade signs boasted the name and age of each animal so that visitors could learn about them. Most of the cows were already in their place, so you simply walked between the stalls, glancing at them absentmindedly.

“Are ya lost?” A smooth, low voice asked.

“Uh, no,” you began, a little bit annoyed at whatever probably middle aged man assumed you didn’t know what you were doing. Whoever had spoken to you was wearing sleek, all black cowboy boots with a pointed toe. They seemed to have been freshly polished; free of any scuffs or scratches although it was clear by a few wrinkles in the leather that the boots had been well worn. Intrigued by the idea that you didn’t know any of your uncle’s workers to wear all black boots, you quickly flitted your eyes to the man’s face.

Long, pinkish-blonde hair fell around his shoulders, cascading down his back in slight waves. The black cutter style hat with silver detailing covering the top of his head made it a little tough to put together the full picture, but you assumed from the few loose strands framing his face that he was sporting a mullet. Simple silver hoops hung from both of his earlobes, glistening in the low sunlight inside the barn. His eyes were a captivating amber-brown with a sparkle of gold that you could only catch on certain angles. His eyebrows were a bit darker than the blonde of his hair, cluing you in to the fact that he had most likely bleached the tresses some time before. From his taller vantage point, he looked down on you over the perfect slope of his nose. He was remarkably younger than you’d expected- probably only a year or two older than yourself. You swallowed harshly.

“Are you lost?” You quipped back, in disbelief at the vision of the man in front of you who had seemingly blended the usual, tired cowboy fashion you were so accompanied with alongside an alternative flair that made your heart hammer wildly in the confines of your chest.

The man snorted out a laugh, short and low as he leaned himself casually on a wooden support beam. Underneath the fabric of his black button up, his muscles flexed and glided deliciously as he settled his body weight again.

“No, I wouldn’t say I am. I work here, and although I just started around here,” he passed an unabashed look up and down your body that made you flush, “I wouldn’t forget meetin’ someone like you.”

At a loss for words, you simply gawked at him as you tried to reform yourself.

“I-uh, my uncle owns the fair, and the uh-the cows, and I got stuck working in here until Steven can get back. So I’m really just looking for-”

“Oh, you’re Y/N? Your uncle mentioned he’d be sending someone to replace Steven.” He interrupted, arching an eyebrow lazily when you nodded. There was a slight smirk befalling his lips, the perfectly plump flesh twisting in his clear scrutiny of your words.

Simply nodding your confirmation seemed to be good enough for him as he pushed his lean body off of the wooden beam and took two measured steps closer to you. The heels of his boots clicked loudly each time, only punctuating his current upper hand. He stuck his hand straight out in front of him, simply waiting for you to meet him halfway.

When you finally did, you hoped he would disregard your clammy palm that only compounded upon feeling his perfectly calloused skin tight against your much less worn hand.

“Yeonjun.” He simply said, pressing his fingers into you harder as you finally actually shook hands. The blunt press of his fingernails digging into the back of your hand sent shivers down your spine, mind jumping to what they would feel like raking down the sensitive skin of your back or down the inside of your thighs or between the strands of your hair or-

“You okay there?” Yeonjun questioned, dropping your hand to cross his arms over his toned chest. Caught red handed, you busied yourself with looking at the stray pieces of hay which had littered the barn’s floor before you answered with a meek yes.

‘Well,” you finally looked back up to see that his eyes were still trained intently on your face. There was absolutely no way he hadn’t seen your blush by now.

“I’m your uncle’s new ranch hand, so it’s gonna be me and you in here till Steven comes back.”

At his words, you suddenly realized just how calm the once bustling barn had become, and you were sure that everyone who had helped bring in the cows had moved on to other tasks. It seemed that you and Yeonjun were the only two people left in the barn. He was still standing dangerously close to you, bodies just about a foot apart until you took a tentative step backwards. Your heart was beating double the normal rate, distracted by the absolutely perfectly crafted man you somehow ended up in the sole presence of. He simply watched you back away, never dropping the sly smirk as he watched you panic. Damn Yeonjun and his perfect looks and perfect charm.

Maybe you should go to your uncle and tell him that there was no way you could work alongside Yeonjun. You could easily make up some kind of story that the two of you didn’t get along, and that he would need to find someone else to help out until Steven could be back and-

“Look out!” Yeonjun suddenly called, eyes widening in the split second you could still see them. In all your thinking, you had continued to slowly back away from him, so lost in your own mind that you didn’t realize you were seconds away from tripping over a stray bucket and hitting your head. Which is exactly what you did.

The floor of the barn, although partially cushioned by hay, was harsh against the back of your body. Your head bounced with a sickening echo, coupled with the skidding of the metal bucket in the opposite direction, it’s contents of some feed spread out messily through the hay, some kibbles sliding into the pens of eager cows who bent to gobble up their extra snack.

Yeonjun appeared over you as soon as you could open your eyes again, pain shooting through your head and top of your spine- where your body had bounced the most.

“Are you alright?” Yeonjun pulled you up gently, laying a large, warm hand on your back to keep you steady. His eyes were still wide, roaming your face in quick succession to see if you had any physical evidence of pain.

“Just- uh- gonna have a headache, probably.” You supplied, head still spinning. Yeonjun frowned, continuing to roam his hands over the back of you body. Although you knew he was simply looking for injuries, a shiver ran down your spine at his delicate yet assured touch.

“‘Don look like you’re hurt too bad, but I’m sure you’ll bruise,” his voice had become more gruff since he began his examination. “C’mon,” was the only warning he afforded you before hooking one arm under your armpits, easily pulling your weight off of the floor where you laid. The other arm came to hook under your knees until you were laid bridal style in his arms. Instinctively, both of your arms flew around his neck, almost sending his hat flying with your haste. Up this close, you could smell the intoxicating mix of the whatever musky-vanilla cologne he had sprayed on, undercut by the faint smell of the outdoors that was much earthier and full. You barely took notice of where he was hauling you off to, more than content to stare up at the smooth, sharp plains of his face.

Shortly, the two of you arrived at what seemed to have been his goal all along- his impressively well kept Chevy pickup. It was sleek black, shining in the high noon sun as if it had just been polished. The tires were sporting a bit of mud- but it was much cleaner than the pickup of any other man around your town. Carefully, Yeonjun led you out of his arms and on to the ground, but not before holding both of his hands on your hips until you steadied yourself.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you commented as he swung open the drivers side door, giving you a good thirty seconds to marvel at the way his jeans stretched deliciously over the curve of his ass and fullness of his thighs. He was searching for something, rummaging through the center consol of his vehicle in intense concentration as you waited.

“Here,” he finally left the car, spinning back around to you smoothly and extending a small bottle of Advil in one hand and a water bottle, warm from the sun, in the other. “Take some of these.” You nodded, downing the two small pills with a little swig of the too-warm water. It was an uncomfortable feeling but you tired your best to mask it knowing that the cowboy was still keeping a close eye on you.

“I meant it, earlier. That you didn’t have to do that. Or this.” You waved vaguely to your throat to indicate the pills you’d just taken from him.

“Is’okay. Used to helpin’. Now are you gonna come back to the barn with me or should I expect to tough out the rest of the day alone?” Happily, you noted that the teasing inclination of his voice had returned. You assessed the pain in your head, carefully weighing his question before you decided that yes, you would come back to the barn with him.

——

The next morning you arrived at the fairgrounds, still fatigued from all the work you’d done the day before. Your feet ached deeply, seeping into the muscles of your calves even as you stretched your legs in every way you could think of. The temperature of the day had already risen to an unforgivable heat which blanketed your every move and had your thin T-shirt sticking to your skin with perspiration. Every step you took reminded you that the air was still and hot and unforgiving. Not to mention the still occasionally throbbing pain in the back of your head from yesterday’s misfortune. As you neared the barn, catching a whiff of the distinct scent of cows exasperated by the heat, you wondered if you’d finally gone insane.

And then you spotted Yeonjun, intently speaking to one of the largest cows your uncle owned as he brushed her, ensuring that her coat was nice and shiny for the visitors that would begin funneling in once the evening fell. He was dressed almost the same as yesterday, except he had swapped the traditional black button up for a simple white T-shirt, most likely due to the sweltering temperature. It was tucked perfectly into the waist of his belted jeans, slightly stained with dirt as evidence of his work so far. Every movement he made to brush at the cow defined the lines of his biceps, drawing your attention steadily toward his veined hands which you noticed had rings adorning them today. The silver metal matched the gleam of his earrings, shimmering in the streams of light that the sun provided.

Quietly you stood at the entrance of the barn, marveling at his physique and the way his voice filtered through the air until it collided with your ears. You held back a laugh as he began cooing at the cow, complimenting her for being so good as the animal chewed at some hay nonchalantly. His hair seemed less messy today, like he’d taken the time to style it despite the nature of his work. You would have been more than happy to stand at the entrance of the barn and silently watch him work, but life can be cruel.

“You see, pretty lady...” you heard Yeonjun continue talking to the cow as he put down the brush. “I would love to spend all day with you, but unfortunately I gotta lot to do around here. And Y/N...well she’s spent the last 5 minutes staring at me instead of stepping up to brush any of your friends.” Shock and embarrassment washed your nerves, and you were sputtering in an instant.

“I wasn’t just staring- I was, I was waiting until you were done so that I could ask-“

“Didn’t say I minded.” Yeonjun supplied calmly, finally fixing his deadly auburn gaze onto you. Fuck, how did he always look so good? Unabashedly, he swiped his eyes over your body, and although you would normally feel scandalized, you wanted nothing more than for him to look at you. For a moment, the two of you stared at one another from across the barn, appraising each other as your mind ran wild. A feeling akin to electricity sparked under your skin, as if you’d be connected to a live wire as soon as he took a calculated step closer to you. The heels of his boots clicked against the wooden floor with every step, punctuating just how slowly he was making his advance. You felt a bit like prey being stalked as your larger, more skilled hunter circled in on you, but you were far from complaining.

About a foot away from your now trembling body, Yeonjun stopped. Your heart was hammering so hard against your ribs that you assumed it was trying to escape the confines of your chest and jump to the floor.

“Here, you’ll be needin’ this,” he drawled, lifting the brush which he’d been using on the other cow up toward you. Carefully, you grasped the tool, pretending your digits didn’t shake when he purposely brushed the delicate pads of his fingers against yours. When he finally dropped his hand away, you cradled the brush close to your sweaty form and gripped onto it for dear life. Without another word, you hurried away from him to tend to the nearest cow. You needed a breather, to be honest. Too much Yeonjun could put you at risk for a heart attack if you weren’t careful.

For a while, it seemed as if he had vanished completely. It was easily to get lost in the simple work of brushing the cows, especially along with the low warbling tones of whatever country station the radio inside the barn had been set to. You were never one for country music, even considering your upbringing, but between the work you were doing, the oppressive heat and the yearning crush weighing on you, it just seemed right to listen to the twang of Jason Aldean.

When he came back, he seemed to materialize out of thin air. You had just finished up brushing the last cow and had moved on to rewriting some of their name tags when he shortly announced that he was back.

“Oh, hey,” you spoke meekly in the hopes to mask your excitement at his return. Cheekily, he grinned, showing off pearly white teeth and perfectly pointed canines.

“Missed me that much, huh?” He chided, brushing past you easily as he took in your improved handwriting on the tags. “Damn. Didn’t even know her name was Daisy. Your uncles’ writing had me calling her Paisly this whole time.”

A low hum of a laugh lifted into your throat as you nodded, focusing on the delicate loop of a J in the next cow’s name. There was silence for a bit, the only sound being the scratch of the chalk you were using to write.

“How’s your head?” Yeonjun asked, hazarding another comment that made your surmize he was trying his best to start a casual conversation. A smirk played onto your lips. In all your 20 years of living, you’d never had the pleasure of having the cat and mouse game being reciprocated.

“It’s okay, just hurts a little bit. I do have a pretty nasty bruise too.” You weren’t lying. The fall had created a large, purple-brown bruise on your lower back that extended slightly to your left ass check, where you must have taken most of the impact of the fall. Yeonjun fell silent, and you were a bit disappointed that he couldn’t come up with a counter as you focused on writing the next cow’s name. The aforementioned bruise had given you a little bit of a limp, and maybe you exaggerated it now in the two steps it took to reach the next pen.

“Need someone to take a look at it?” His voice was suddenly right behind you, tickling the hairs on the back of your neck until they stood up straight. How he had snuck up behind you without the tell tale sounds of his boots was beyond you. Even though you were already sweating, you welcomed the radiating feel of his body heat coming off of his chest in waves. Trying your best to keep your letters from becoming shaky, you hummed in thought.

“Looks and feels pretty much like a nasty bruise to me, Yeonjun. Dunno if I need a second opinion when the damn thing makes it hard for me to even walk. But if you’re so inclined,” you turned your head to make eye contact with him, subsequently catching him in the act of staring down at your ass. He didn’t even bother to stutter out an apology or excuse- just simply looked back up at you with his steady gaze. You remarked that his lips looked plumper than normal, almost raw, like he had been biting at them during some point in the day. He didn’t bother to take a step back; simply maintaining his close distance and waiting for you to make the next move. He had placed the fate of this interaction in your hands, and now you were free to play with him a bit. Slowly, you lifted the hem of the back of your shirt just enough that you knew he could see the blooming bruise in most of its glory. He took a small step back now, to appraise the full scale of the bruise that spanned from left to right across your body.

“Why the hell did you come back today sportin’ an injury like that?” His voice was gruff, punctuated with the same concern that you had heard yesterday when you fell. The pads of his fingers skidded carefully across the afflicted skin, touch so light that you almost missed it. Suddenly insecure and a bit overwhelmed by his touch, you dropped the hem of your shirt and turned just enough that his hands fell away from your back.

“I didn’t want to leave you here all alone, and who knows how long it’ll take to heal? I promised my uncle I’d be here. Plus I kind of really need the paycheck, so...here I am.”

Eyebrows knitted, Yeonjun opened his mouth to make his next comment when the loud, familiar voice of your uncle busted through the relative silence of the barn. Yeonjun shuffled away from you quickly as if he had already been scolded. It hurt a bit, but you understood his hesitation in being caught in a possibly compromising situation with his employers niece.

Yeonjun called back to him, walking briskly toward the entrance of the barn and leaving you behind to strain your ears in an attempt to catch any important bits of information. You could have sworn you heard your name being passed between the two men, but there was no way you could be sure from so far away. A welcome breeze passed through the barn, bringing your attention back to the actual job at hand although you could still feel the ghost of Yeonjun’s touch.

----

About a week later, the temperature had plateaued to a pleasant level and brought along a fresh wave of visitors to the fairgrounds. All morning, the barn had been bustling with wide eyed children and experienced farmers who came to size up the competition. You were busy refreshing the hay inside of one of the pens when you heard Yeonjun’s smooth voice for the first time in a few hours. The barn had been so noisy and loud as soon as the grounds opened for the public that you hadn’t seen him since you arrived in the morning. Across the barn, he was entertaining a group of girls, all listening intently to whatever information he was spouting. They all had perfectly styled hair and legs to die for- stretching perfectly out of their cut-offs and practically begging for attention. The one closest to him was staring at his arms with no regard for how obvious she was being, and you were sure that every other girl in the half circle was ogling him in some fashion. You shouldn’t have been surprised, you guessed, since he made you feel just as brain dead, but you still boiled inside at the sight of two of the girls murmuring amongst each other. It was tough to tell exactly what he had said, but the raucous round of laughter that shot into the air clued you in to the fact that he had probably just served them one of his sub-par farming jokes.

He flashed them the same smile that had made your heart stutter countless times, and a sick feeling of anger pushed through your veins. With an unnecessarily hard push, you exited the pen you had just refreshed and moved on to the next. There was no doubt that Yeonjun took note of the unnecessarily loud clink of the metal gate, and you really fucking hope he got the message. Anger still bubbling just under your skin, you ignored the cow who sweetly bowed it’s head in search of affection.

“Hello?” Someone asked as soon as you turned your back. Taking what you hoped would be a soothing breath, you spun on your heel to address the visitor. He was probably in his mid to late twenties, with cute curly hair and the usual t-shirt and jeans combo you were used to seeing men around your town wear. The way he looked was just about exactly what you would expect from a man visiting your uncles fairgrounds, as they all dressed about the same. He wasn’t your type, but over his shoulder you could see that Yeonjun had refocused his attention on you after you apparent fit with the door. A sickly sweet smile pulled your cheeks until they hurt, but you laid it on thick as you walked over to the door of the pen.

“What can I do for ya?” Making sure to lay your voice on the extra sweet side, you took careful note of the way the man roamed his eyes over your face, stopping to flick between your lips and the low-riding cut of the shirt you’d worn today.

“I was just uh, looking around. Got some pretty nice cows here, they yours?” You forced a laugh, throwing your hair over your shoulder before shaking your head.

“Oh no, I just help out around here, ya know, cleaning and brushing the cows. They belong to my uncle. Like anything you see?” Deliberately, you tossed the bait and looked over his shoulder to find Yeonjun in the exact same spot as before, bottom lip locked between his teeth as he watched the interaction. Good. He deserves to have to watch this after you had to see him make those girls trip over their own feet just by existing.

The man chuckled, clearly picking up on the inclination of your question as he hummed in thought. “I think I have my eye on someone,” he responded, resting his arm casually on the metal gate just a few inches from where you had draped your own. Instinctively, you looked at his arm- much less defined than Yeonjun’s- and noticed just about the biggest red flag you could ever see on a man you’re flirting with. A wedding band.

“Ah, better be your wife you’ve got an eye on,” you quipped, mostly upset that your revenge on Yeonjun had been partially spoiled. There was no way you could stay here and flirt with a married man just to make Yeonjun jealous. Defeated, you made to pull your arm off of the gate and go back to working on the hay when the man grabbed at the supple skin of your forearm to stop you.

“She won’t mind, sweetheart,” he drawled, the cool press of his ring a persistent reminder of how much of a scumbag he was being.

“No, somehow I really think she would mind.” You yanked your arm again, managing to gain just a few inches back from his hold. He huffed, pinching his blunt nails into your skin enough to scratch thin red lines.

“I’d let go if I were you. Move on along, huh?” Yeonjun’s familiar tone met your ears, and you belatedly noticed that he had come right up behind the guy. You had never seen him look quite so intimidating as he did in the moment, with his eyebrows pulled together grimly. His mouth was set in a harsh line, unforgiving as he gripped at the man’s shoulder, fingers curling into the fabric of his tshirt. Finally, the man dropped his grip from you, shot Yeonjun a nasty look that you were sure he thought was manly, and strode off to presumably find his poor wife.

Feeling small under Yeonjun’s gaze, you simply looked down at the faint red tracks now decorating your arm.

“He could have really hurt you.” He muttered, keeping his voice low as to keep other visitors from overhearing.

“He didn’t.” You spat, annoyed that he had to save you from yet another mishap.

“Guys like that...they don’t have any respect for people like you. People who have a backbone.” His eyes were large, imploring you with the intensity of his stare. You avoided his gaze for a few more seconds, knowing that your resolve and previous anger would disappear. You shuffled some hay under your sneakers and a piece of you hoped Yeonjun would simply walk away, but you could still see the toes of his boots poking underneath the metal gate.

“Thank you,” you whispered, finally meeting his gaze and feeling the tension melt from your bones. His features had softened considerably, and you almost forgot the pain that had split your heart upon seeing him flirting with other girls. You knew he wasn’t yours, but you wished more and more every day that he was.

----

“I won’t be needin’ you in the barn tonight, by the way,” your uncle bellowed from across the barn. In the whole time you’d been working alongside Yeonjun in here, you had never once seen your uncle actually come into the barn. You knew he was busy with dozens of other things, but for as much as he loved his cows you were shocked at his lack of attendance. Today he stood right in the middle of it, patting the head of one of the cows with a contented look on his face as visitors swirled around. Yeonjun, who was in the middle of refilling a trough of water, popped his head up in shock at the words.

“Really?” You enthused, dropping the rake you had in your hands to rush over to your uncle and see if he was joking.

“Really. Got an old friend comin’ in who I wanna show off the cows to, so I won’t need the two of you caring for ‘em. He’ll be here in about,” he paused to glance down at the watch he’d worn for as long as you could remember, “about twenty minutes, if the two of you want to take off now.”

Not having to be told twice, you waved your uncle goodbye, shot a quick smile at Yeonjun, and made a b-line to your car. Just as you pulled on the handle of the driver’s side door, Yeonjun was calling your name.

“Hey!” He called, a little breathless from the jog he’d taken to catch up with you. “What are you uh, gonna do with the night off?”

“Why, you wanna hang out?” You offered, half-teasing but very much offering your time to him.

“No- I wasn’t, that’s not what I was...”

“I’ll be here,” you responded coolly. “Might come with some friends, might just come to stuff my face full of fair food. All the things I normally do when I work somewhere that isn’t the barn. I’m finally gonna get myself a damn funnel cake. But first, I’m going home to shower.” You opened your driver’s side door all the way and hopped in before he could respond. “See ya there?” You asked, hoping to probe him toward offering to meet you there. He stuffed his hands in his front pockets, swaying on the balls of his feet. His face twisted as you assumed he was contemplating his options.

“Maybe,” he finally conceded, nodding softly as he watched you through the rolled down window of your car. “Maybe I’ll see ya there, Y/N.”

----

The sun had just begun to set when you got back to the familiar fair grounds, painting the sky in a orange-pink mix that delighted you beyond words. You had ended up coming to the fair alone; partly because all of your friends had already gone on other nights you were working and partly because you were hoping to run into Yeonjun. The parking lot was full to the brim, and you found yourself looping around to the slightly hidden employee parking lot instead of being sanctioned to the overflow lot down further down the dirt road. As you pulled into the closest spot, you caught a glimpse of a very familiar sleek black Chevy pickup in your rearview mirror. Excitement made you dizzy, hands shaking as you flipped down your overhead mirror to straighten yourself up. If you were going to see Yeonjun tonight, you were going to make it count.

Throngs of visitors swirled around you, chatting and laughing over the piped in country music that you’d been hearing almost nonstop all summer long. With the sun setting, everything was casted in an idyllic golden glow that made you feel like you were in a coming-of-age film and not just your uncle’s fair that you had come to every year since your birth. A group of visibly drunk friends barreled past you, slurring and hiccupping as they narrowly avoided spilling their beers all over themselves. Grease and sweat mixed to create an atmospheric scent that was so inherently fair that you almost wished they sold candles that smelled the same way. Without even thinking about it, your feet carried you toward the funnel cake stand which was supposed to be your fate for the summer. To be honest, you were still quite upset that you hadn’t got to spend your days munching on pieces of fried batter and chatting with the family friends your uncle hired every year.

Finding yourself at the back of a winding line, you resigned to the one thing that sucked about coming alone. There was no one around you to make conversation with as you waited for food. You had come to the fair many times with your friends from school and various dates, but you couldn’t think of a single time you visited the fair all by yourself. Idly, you scrolled through your phone and inched up appropriately with the line.

“Y/N! Hey!” Yeonjun yelled, approaching you quickly. A wide smile split your face, giving away your excitement at spotting him.

“Oh hey! I’m finally getting a funnel cake!” He was wearing his usual outfit, closer to the look you had seen him in the very first time you met. Outside of the barn he seemed much more casual, and even casted in an odd mix of setting sunrays and the harsh neon from the rides behind him, he looked ethereal. His eyes sparkled with that unmistakable mirth that he always seemed to harbor around you.

“I saw that. Looked pretty lonely over here with your nose in your phone, figured I’d come see if you could use some company.” He was throwing you the line, waiting to see if you’d latch on. And who would you be if you didn’t?

“Hmm, I think that would be nice. Although I really can’t promise I’ll share the funnel cake.” You stepped forward with the line again, and he came with you easily, falling right beside you so closely that you could feel the heat radiating from his side.

Once you finally had the hot treat balancing on a thin paper plate, you rushed Yeonjun to the nearest empty bench and dug in. The dough was still scalding, having just been pulled from the fryer, but the amazing taste was good enough for you to ignore the burn. Yeonjun sputtered a laugh as you shoveled in the dough, wiping powdered sugar onto your legs with reckless abandon. Teasingly, he snuck a hand up to the plate and pulled off a piece of funnel cake; pulling a teasing whine from your throat as you shook your head no rapidly.

“Too late,” he mumbled, “already in ma mouf.” Swallowing your own piece, you widened your eyes and punched at his thigh, firm and muscular.

“Rude! You should have gotten your own!” He smiled cutely down at you, nose crinkling as he finally swallowed. Some powdered sugar had slid onto his button up, but you decided not to tell him in favor of keeping his attention focused on you the way it was now. You felt hot but extremely comfortable under his gaze, feeling a stutter in your chest that increased the adrenaline in your veins. He was so close, and so endearing, and the way he was focused on your face was so fucking cute.

“You’ve got,” he motioned to his own face, brushing his finger against his chin. You tried to mirror his action, swiping at the same spot, but the frown on his face told you that you had missed.

“Lemme, can I?” You nodded before the words even came out, eager to feel his calloused hands on the sensitive skin of your face. His eyes narrowed in concentration as he cupped your jaw and inched his thumb, much slower than what would be considered normal, toward your chin. With one gentle swipe, the stray powdered sugar was gone, yet his hands remained. God, you wanted to kiss him so badly. The lighting had casted a gorgeous shade along his cheekbones, highlighting the beautiful length of his eye lashes and the rounded tip of his nose.

Up this close, you examined the curve of his lips; the soft definition of his cupid’s bow and the perfect pink of his mouth.

“Yeonjun-” he surged forward, stalling the words in your throat as he finally pushed his lips against yours. His fingers gently curled around your neck, gripping at strands of hair like he was afraid you were going to run away. It was quite the opposite, actually, as you happily hummed and leaned into the kiss you’d been waiting for. He tasted like funnel cakes and a faint hint of mint gum, just intoxicating enough to have you clawing your hands into the collar of his shirt. The funnel cake plate began to slide off of your lap, but you could not have cared less as you swiped your tongue over the seam of his lips, greedily pushing to get more out of him.

He hesitates, still eager to kiss you back, but not enough to let you have full reign. Pouting a little, you decided to make the best of your time by nibbling at his bottom lip playfully. Yeonjun pulled away just enough to separate the two of you gently, chests heaving as you both readjusted to a life not attached at the lips.

“Sorry,” he grunted, voice much rougher around the edges than you’d ever heard it. The sound sent a chill down your spine. “Sorry that I didn’t, uh, wanna-” his cheeks flushed startlingly fast and he sighed. “I just don’t want to mess this up, whatever this is. I just...I like you too much, ya know?” The shyness in his voice was endearing, and it wasn’t hard at all to let your own desires fall to the wayside. He likes you.

“That’s okay, Yeonjun. You know I really like you too, right?”

“Hmm,” he pondered, leaning back into his usual persona at your acceptance. “Did I know that? Maybe all those times I caught you staring, or how fuckin’ clumsy you get if I even so much as compliment you...yeah. I think I know.” A permanent smile was stuck on your face, unbreakable in the presence of Yeonjun and his intoxicating aura.

----

The next morning, you’d walked into work on clouds. You and Yeonjun had spent the whole night together; strolling hand in hand, eating your way through the grounds and dragging one another on the carnival rides.

He wasn’t around when you entered the barn, but the evidence that he was somewhere around was enough to kick you into gear. You were shoveling food into a trough, making one-sided conversation with the cows in front of you when you heard him stroll in.

“Hey!” You called over your shoulder, too focused on getting the food actually inside the container to turn around. Yeonjun didn’t answer, but you just finished the task at hand and figured you’d try again in a few moments. Once you were done with the food, you spotted him walking back from the storehouse with a fresh bale of hay in his arms.

He plopped it down on the floor of the barn and you tried again.

“Good morning,” you smiled, approaching him with a grin. He looked up at your breifly and simply nodded, turning on his heels to go back to the storage. Your heart plummeted to your feet just like it had on the rollercoaster he had forced you on to just about 12 hours ago.

What the hell had happened in between the time you parted and the time you both came into work? If you hadn’t known him better, you would have chalked it up to a bad morning, or maybe he was still too tired.

But in all the time you had worked together, he had never once ignored you. He always greeted you in the morning, began a conversation about nothing or at least asked you how you slept. No matter how shit he was feeling, Yeonjun had always made it clear to you that you were worth his time. Did you ruin it all with the kiss? Even though he had seemed so ecstatic last night, maybe he woke up this morning with regrets stacked up. Maybe he was afraid of what your uncle would think. In your idle thinking, you hadn’t noticed the accumulation of hay bales that he had brought in. A stack of four now stood before you, and he was just feet away with the fifth. He was huffing, face reddened with the sheer weight of the bales.

“Yeonjun, do you need help?” You tried again, hoping that maybe lodging a question would garner a real response, but you got nothing. He simply dropped another bale and made to leave the barn again.

“Yeonjun!” You bellowed, hopping around the bales to catch up to him. You jumped in his path, holding one hand to each shoulder. Despite his strength advantage, he stopped in his tracks and gazed down at you. You noticed that he looked tired, slight bags residing under his eyes, and you wondered if we had gotten any sleep at all. “What’s up with you?”

He sighed, pushing his fingers into his temples.

“I don’t have time for this, Y/N.” He tried to pass around you again, but you planted your feet and pushed at his chest with all of your might.

“We are going to talk about this. The cows are fed, and the new hay can wait. Why the fuck are you avoiding me? After last night? If you don’t actually like me, or you regret it, just tell me the truth. Be a big boy, Yeonjun. Don’t leave me out here high and dry.” The steeliness in his eyes softened at your words and a frown marred his flawless face.

“No, god no. I do like you, Y/N. And yesterday was great and I don’t regret any of it but I just...I just don’t trust myself. The last person I dated,” he rubbed his hand into the back of his neck, “I messed it up. Bad. And the last thing I want is to do that to you, too. I’m trying to keep you away from all of this mess. So I’m sorry, but you have to just...forget last night.”

You were stunned to silence, disbelief bubbling in your chest. How bad of a fuck up could his last relationship have been? The Yeonjun you knew was nothing but caring, goofy, smart and charming. Everything you could have ever dreamed up in a man.

“Look, I don’t know what happened last time, but I know that you’re being way too hard on yourself. You’re...Yeonjun, you’re as close to perfect as anyone could get. And even if you are a mess,” you made sure that his tired eyes never left yours, “well, so am I. I fell flat on my ass the first time we met, I step in cow shit on the daily, and somehow you still find it in yourself to like me back. So whatever you’re worried about, forget about it. Okay?”

A small, slow smile cracked onto his face, exposing the white, pearly teeth that you were so envious of. “I never told you this,” he began, the cheerful inclination of his voice made your heart soar, “but I had to try so hard not to laugh when you fell. Like- the look on your face!” His voice tapered off into a full-bellied laugh; music to your ears.

“Okay, okay! I was trying to cheer you up, and now you’re just bullying me!” You yelled, pushing at his chest gently in a bid to get him to stop.

“Hmm, well you did help make me feel better, but ya know what would really cheer me up?” His laughter had ceased, but the apples of his cheeks were still risen and rosy from the effort. His hands encircled your waist delicately, pulling you into his chest. “If you could just...kiss it better?” He pouted exaggeratedly, leaning down to level your heights. And how could you resist?

You met him halfway with the same vigor as yesterday, still shocked by the easy way your mouths fit together. With every intention of respecting the boundary he set yesterday, you were more than happy to lean into the sweet roll of his lips until you were in need of a breather. The hands on your waist tightened, pulling your bodies impossibly closer and Yeonjun mumbled something that you didn’t quite catch, although you didn’t have time to ponder it as he took the imitative to deepen the kiss.

Finally kissing him the way you’d desired made you feel like you were on fire, every inch of your skin sensitive. Yeonjun was persistent, guiding you backwards slowly. You couldn’t see where you were going, but right now you would have trusted him with your entire life as he intoxicated you with his touch. Suddenly, your back was pressed against what you figured was the wood paneling just inside the barn’s entrance. Yeonjun finally backed away from you as your chest heaved, mind fuzzy from the rush of serotonin. Without a word he descended on you again, kissing sloppily down your jaw and neck, leaving at least two purpling bruises in his wake. Frantically, you knocked his hat backwards off of his head, weaving your fingers into his fading pink hair as he worked at the junction of your neck and collarbone. Losing yourself in his touch was easy, sliding your eyes shut as the flat of his tongue soothed the skin he had just finished raising into a blooming bruise.

Yeonjun was just as consumed, mumbling compliments against your neck as his hands wandered to the hem of your shirt, sliding his large, warm hands under the soft cotton; roaming higher and higher-

“MOOOOO-” the cow closest to you bellowed, sliding her foot across the floor in a loud shuffle that alarmed you both. Yeonjun’s hands dropped away immediately, eyes comically wide as the cow stared at the both of you.

“She defintely just told us to knock it off and change the hay.” You joked, trying to pretend like the loud animal hadn’t scared the living shit out of you. Yeonjun was flustered, fumbling to readjust his trusty hat as he cleared his throat and threw you a shy look. His eyes flitted to your neck, no doubt admiring his handiwork, before straightening his shirt.

“I’m going to go...um, start on that hay now.”

708 notes · View notes

vivithefolle · 4 years ago

Note

What are your favourite fanfic tropes/aus for romione?

(I’m gonna try to make my way through old asks I received AGES ago and never answered because I’m a procrastinating lump. Here’s betting I’m going to give up and play videogames all day instead.)

Oh my god, so many.

Okay so as a rule of thumb as long as it’s nice to Ron I’ll read it. I’ll read anything. I have been known to read Ron/Draco and even sacrificed my dignity and everything I stand for as a human being by reading some Ron/Snape stuff. Yes. I was THAT desperate. This is how low I’m willing to go because of sheer love for Ron.

Which means that when a fic will go “oh poor Hermione, poor Hermione who is waiting for Ron to grow up because She can see one day he could be worth it but for now he’s all dumb-dumb and inferior and doesn’t deserve Her perfection :(”, I will be judging. Judging very hard. I may not leave a comment but rest assured, my thoughts are loud enough for me. This is 2010s mentality. This is “haha I’m so like Hermione, not like other girls who throw themselves at boys, I’m so special and girl powery :)” Horribly Bad Feminism. Fuck that. We’re doing better now.

Speaking of doing better. Recently I read something about how Ron is, paraphrased, “the brute of the Trio”, spun in a positive way since he uses his strength to protect them but, but, still... please no? Just no! Just eff no with these takes about how Ron is a hypermasculine dudebro M For Manly™! No, no, fucking no! Just because he’s the Sulfur to Hermione’s Mercury and Sulfur represents the masculine component to Mercury’s feminine one, DOESN’T MEAN Ron is “the brute”! (”the” brute... seriously... who’s the more brutish one, the one who punches a racist in the face or the one who uses a torture curse as retribution for spitting on his fave teacher?)

The way I see him, Ron is a balance, a blend of feminine and masculine qualities intertwined close together. I LOVE that he can swear like a sailor but can only say “scarlet woman” or “cow” when it comes to insulting a woman. Some will probably see it as “hurr durr he sexist he doesnt think women can take it!!!!!!! >8C” but given that those are probably also the peeps who say “HE CALLE D HERMOANI A NIGHTMURRR!!!!!!! DDDDD8″ I’m gonna venture the idea that we don’t care about those folks’ biased, sexist opinions.

Where was I going with this... oh yes! Ok, so Ron can swear like a sailor yet couldn’t insult a girl to save his life. He’s strong physically but most of all he’s strong mentally (to put up with the way his friends treat him for years speaks a lot of his mental fortitude... and to top it off he comes back for more to boot! I’m not sure if that’s more mental fortitude or straight-up masochism though.) When he succeeds at things he gets a bit attention-whoreish but at the same time, you can see that when he’s being complimented he’s all unsure of himself and blushy and shy and you just, dude you can’t handle positive attention because you don’t know how to react to it I don’t know whether that’s adorable or the saddest thing I’ve seen in my life? He’s insecure but he’s always the first to cheer on Harry and Hermione when they’re doing something great, which speaks VOLUMES of Ron’s selflessness and of his actual character: to quote @peetamaellark, Ron doesn’t think “Harry is great, therefore he sucks and I hate him”, he thinks “Harry is great, therefore I suck and I hate me”. THIS is Ron. THIS is why Ron will lash out, not because he hates Harry, but because internally he hates himself and you can’t keep that sort of feeling bottled up for too long before... you got it, you explode.

I. Want. More. Fics where Hermione isn’t this ~oh dear~ Victorian damsel in distress who cries and Ron is the Big Strong Man who holds her with one arm and is stony-faced and goes “I’ll protect you”, please no that was old before it existed, let us have nice, realistic depictions of Ron and Hermione please.

Like, Hermione is more than capable of kicking butt herself. She IS absolutely nervous and scared and cries easily and that’s a vulnerability we NEED, but the fact that she can be super scared and crying but still hex her opponent into oblivion? THAT’s good, THAT’s excellent. It’s a very important message for girls, I think. “You can cry, you can be sensitive, you can be emotional, AND you can still kick butt”. And as important as that message is for girls, it’s also a very important message to give boys, because boys are socialized to “never cry” and that’s super unhealthy. I love Ron’s admiration of Hermione. I love the way Ron hesitates, the way he can be cautious when he needs to as much as he can be reckless and impulsive. I love how he shows himself to be a big softie and a sweet soul. I don’t think that makes him an “emasculated doormat” (to quote a guest I once saw on FFN), on the contrary it makes him an even better man in my eyes. You know why I love the locket scene so much? Because Ron’s tears aren’t ridiculed. Ron gets to cry about the terrible ordeal he’s been put through, and while Harry “pretends he can’t see Ron cry” because it’s more comfortable for him personally, he doesn’t try to tell Ron to “man up” or anything. His reassurance is pretty lousy but he lets Ron cry, he lets his friend be upset, and he doesn’t try to invalidate Ron’s pain. (ok, the “I thought you knew” is kiiiiinda on the way there, but it stops at that and I’m grateful for it).

I like. Seeing Ron distressed. I like seeing Ron upset and be allowed to be upset. I like to see Ron’s pain treated with respect. So when Ron is having a shit day I like to see him get a cuddle. I like seeing Ron go through horrible ordeals and break down and for his breakdown to be properly acknowledged and not turned into insensitive comic relief (ISN’T THAT RIGHT, LATTER HALF OF THE SILVER DOE????). I mean seriously, just imagine GOF, Harry sitting in the hospital wing after Cedric’s death, Molly Weasley gives him a hug and it’s all very sad and angsty. And now picture Ginny running into the room screaming “HARRY JAMES POTTER” and punching him over and over and saying “PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER MAN, PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER” then after two pages of Harry “explaining” himself to Ginny she goes away saying “aight but if you do that shit again you’ll have to answer to me” then Harry’s friends are like “damn she’s spunky huh?” and Harry laughs and everyone laughs and this is how the book ends? How would it be funny? How would it be appropriate? How would it feel like “romance”? When Ron returns in The Silver Doe, he’s been psychologically tortured (”tortured” is the actual word JKR uses, please), we don’t need him to be hurting outside as well.

I want more accountability for Hermione. More “uh hey Hermione maybe don’t do that”. More “hey Hermione you know you think of yourself as a good person buuuut yeah actually if all good persons were like you I’d be very afraid”. More “Hermione please for the love of God educate yourself”. More “Hermione sweetie I love you, but you can’t actually learn everything from books”. CHARACTER. DEVELOPMENT. PLEASE. Don’t be afraid to punch Hermione down and tear her apart the way the best Ron fics maim and torture our poor boy. Just because Rowling treated Hermione with kiddy princess gloves doesn’t mean you have to mimic her.

So when Hermione does a genuinely shitty thing let her own up to it. When Ron is a victim let him be upset and angry, even if Hermione is the one treating him badly. Just because he loves her doesn’t mean he’s not allowed to be disappointed in her or that she’s entitled to his immediate forgiveness. Give Ron and Hermione equal consideration. If you’re brushing off Hermione’s actions but condemning Ron for the slightest mistake, I am sure to hate it.

Okay, uh, so, those aren’t really tropes. Those are more just, guidelines I presume.

Oh, yeah, a trope that annoys me! Ron saying “you’re mine”, “my Hermione” and stuff, and Hermione just swoons and says “yours” and shiz. Ok, once in a while, why not. Once in a while. BUTT. I WANT HERMIONE TO SAY IT TOO. “Mine”, “my Ron!” and Ron swoons and says “yours, absolutely yours”. DO IT YOU COWARDS. FUCKING TAKE THOSE GENDER ROLES AND PUNCH’EM IN THE FACE.

Oh, right, while we’re on the subject of gender roles! Dad!Ron is everything. SingleParent!Ron is mwaaah. Stay-at-home-Dad!Ron is ALKZLDSJDLQSKLFJ <3. AnimalLover!Ron is HHHHNNNGG. Remember, the small gestures, the tiniest, softest acts Ron does (helping Harry get dressed when his arm is deboned, giving Dobby his brand-new sweater, praising Ginny, Luna and Neville when they escaped Umbridge), those are often those unremarkable, unmistakeably kind and sweet actions that tell us who Ron really is at his core: not a guy who’d want power at all costs, not a guy who’d give it all for ambition, not a guy who sees people as possessions, but someone kind who wants to make others happy.

Ok, I was also asked for AUs, so, uh, pretty much every AU is game as long as Ron gets treated with respect? I mean I don’t really care for Mafia!AUs or such but if you can find a way to fit good Romione then go for it I guess. Royalty AU, yeah why not but I often see Ron being made a prince while Hermione is a poor wee servant girl and like. Uuum, we’re talking about the same characters here? Hermione the highly educated girl who keeps on walking over everyone’s toes and loudly talking about how things should be done and is definitely Nouveau Riche, Ron who is a country boy who lives on a farm and is lost in the constant shuffle of his brothers, you think she should be the peasant and he should be the royal? Whaddafack? Oh, and all the “Hermione is a Muggle, Ron is a wizard” AUs that start this way BUTT! Suddenly... Hermione... turns out... to be (wait for it!)... A WITCH! And a super powerful super talented very good one too!!!... yeah ok, yawn. It’s quite scary, actually, how often I’ve seen that plotline, but in the rare cases when it’s Muggle!Ron and Witch!Hermione, Ron never ever EVER (I mean, seriously, NEVER EVER) turns out to have been a wizard, not even a mediocre one, all along. No, when Ron is made a Muggle for the sake of AU he stays a Muggle. But when Hermione is made a Muggle she has to turn out TO HAVE BEEN A WITCH ALL ALONG OMYGAH. I can count on one hand the number of Mugglemione/Wizardron fics that actually stick to their Mugglemione premise till the end - and usually they’re one-shots. (Also I don’t mean “Ron mistakes Hermione for a Muggle because he meets her in the Muggle world and assumes he must hide his magic from her, oh wait she was actually a witch!” fics, I mean genuinely “Hermione has been raised a Muggle her whole life, never had weird things happen to her her whole life ever, then Ron comes in and is a wizard and he does magic and Hermione wonders what it’d be like to be a witch and oh surprise! Don’t worry Hermione, you won’t have to feel not-special or mundane for long, here comes the plot contrivance to tell you you really were in fact the specialest of them all!!” fics.) Fairytale!AU is cool. Very good. But honestly I like to see them swapped around. Ron cursed by a nasty fae to be a Beast and Hermione stumbling upon him? Neat, especially if you don’t go the boring route of “oh let’s just rehash the Disney/the original book with different names and call it a day”. But Hermione cursed by an asshole fae for, let’s say, not sharing books, turning into a Beast, and Ron stumbling upon her as she’s trying to survive in the woods (and not doing a very good job of it)? Yes, brava, chief’s kiss. Rapunzel AU where Hermione’s bushy hair turns into the most impractical, most suffocating improvised ladder ever for Ron? Hilarious. Rapunzel AU where Ron has A GIANT EFFING PONYTAIL OF THE GODS and is screaming “ow ow ow” as Hermione makes her way up to his window cringing and saying “sorry! sorry! sorry! (damn his hair smells good)” on every step? Equally hilarious. Go! Be creative! Please I beg of you

Creature!fics! Oh my god there’s not enough of those, at least that aren’t focused on a bullshit pairing! Soulmate AUs! Give me everything! I’ll even take A/B/O if you insist on making it Romione! That’s how far I’ve fallen from human decency I’ll take anything just give me some good Ron content please I beg of you (Ah and to those that are going to say “Alpha Ron Omega Hermione :)))” well yes, but actually no. “Beta Ron Beta Hermione”? “Beta Ron Alpha Hermione”? “Omega Ron Alpha Hermione”??? HELL YEAH NOW WE’RE TALKIN)

Oh dear god I’m still not finished and I haven’t gone through everything someone stop me.

AND NOW BE CAREFUL CHILDREN, BELOW WILL BE SMUT.

Okay I don’t know if it qualifies as a trope, but. But. A more realistic depiction of Ron is usually what I’m after. All those fanfics that have Ron be “the sexy experienced one ;)))” ravishing “naive virginal Hermione ;))” is just UGH. We spent all the 2000-2010 period having fics like this, mind adding a bit of EQUALITY to the mix???

It’s just... I hate it okay? So many fics read like they’re just projection, writers who are essentially making Ron their big strong sex toy stud who's so attentive and sweet and cherishing, and so it does indirectly ends up as "servant Ron is so devoted to his goddess Hermione, providing pleasure to her while she doesn’t have to lift a finger”. The Dom!SexGod!Ron thing honestly depresses me... Since it's Ron taking care of Hermione, AGAIN. Like, he spends his WHOLE LIFE doing that already. Can we give him a break for once?

In the endI feel that it's less "Romione smut" and more "self-inserting into Hermione smut". In "real" Romione smut I think Ron and Hermione would switch roles according to what they feel like. And honestly I ALWAYS picture Ron being super nervous during Dom stuff, like he spanks her once then immediately he goes "oh my god are you okay?? did that hurt, do you want to stop?", things like that. I cannot imagine it happening any other way. XD Ron is just... too caring, too sensitive to do stuff like hard BDSM and that kind of thing in my opinion. He’s too much of a caretaker. I understand if it’s your kink and you’re perfectly free to project and write the fic you want, I’m not the fun police, but it’s just... I don’t think that’s really what Ron would be like. I just want MORE realistic Ron.

Also I’m trying really really hard to not point fingers here but WHY is it that it’s always “Ron growled” while it’s always “Hermione whimpered” or “Hermione moaned”? Like... you know it’s okay for a man to moan or whimper in pleasure too, right? You know Ron isn’t 110% muscles and testosterone? You know Hermione is allowed to be fierce too? Hermione can 100% “growl” and be dominant and pin Ron to the wall and reduce him to a puddle of goo if you’re brave enough?

(Honestly how sexy would Ron think that is? The woman he loves is half his size yet can pin him down and ravish him. DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG RON HAS WANTED TO BE RAVISHED AND CHERISHED DO YOU KNOW HE’S BEEN WANTING THIS ALL HIS LIFE)

Oooo-kay, so that’s... mostly it, I reckon. Oh also Ron has a gigantic penisraise kink (and a great penis too, but mostly a praise kink). That’s canon and that’s all.

#vivi answers #ask #ron weasley #hermione granger #romione #harry potter #harry potter series #hp fanfic #fanfiction #tropes #au #writing

55 notes · View notes

prettywordsyouleft · 4 years ago

Text

The Cowboy - Part 3

Summary: Leaving the city for a rural area called Blayne seemed simple enough. Your task was to convince the people to agree with selling their land for a resort redevelopment. But once there, you soon realise that your city ways are entirely different to theirs. Winning their trust was going to take some effort, and when you start to fall for a local cowboy, you wonder if you really needed Blayne more than the city life after all.

Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x female reader

Genre: cowboy au / drama / romance / if you squint there’s some enemies to lovers up in here.

Warnings: Jung Jaehyun is a cowboy, need I say more? (a bit of angst and drama, and it sometimes might feel like you’re reading a Nicolas Sparks book, so I’m told lol)

Word count: 2054

This series will be updated every Thursday and Friday.

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

“What are you handing me those for?” you asked when the man you had arranged to meet with at eleven shook your hand in greeting and then placed a pair of gumboots up on the hood of your car. You eyed the footwear and then looked back at Avery McConnell with interest.

Avery chuckled. “I know how expensive those boots are.”

“It’s not muddy, though. I’ve come at the end of spring.”

“You’re in for an awakening, Y/N. Trust me, put them on.”

You took Avery’s advice and followed him over to his truck. Climbing inside, you then glanced at your guide. “Thank you for meeting with me today.”

“Hey, it’s my pleasure. Always nice to see a new face once every three or so years,” he teased, and you laughed with him.

“So I’m learning. Not many venture out here.”

“It would be nice if people did.”

“Right?!” you enthused instantly, gesturing to the mountain ranges in the distance. “This place has so much untapped potential.”

“You won’t get to un-tap it, Y/N,” Avery told you upfront as he swung the vehicle out onto the main road. “But I wish there was a happy medium. If we could create more jobs and better housing, it would improve our farming. It’s hard to get help to come out here when services like Amazon don’t.”

“Wait, they don’t?!” you groaned heavily at the concept of not being able to order coffee pods in bulk.

“You’ll have to set up a PO Box in the township over. And if you need to have any internet meetings, it’ll be best to do them there too. The internet reaches out here, but the signal drops so frequently that no one bothers.”

“Why hasn’t anyone asked for services to be improved?” you asked and Avery smiled at you knowingly. “What? You can request cables to be laid, and I’m sure if you pay half the cost-”

“There’s not a huge focus on the internet out here when the sun rises in the morning for outdoor productivity. Most of us just have mobile phones to ring one another when we’re out on our property. And even then, the signal can be dodgy.”

“But there could be improvements,” you insisted, and Avery nodded.

“You’re persistent.”

“Well, it’s not the primitive age. I appreciate there’s a historical factor and a tight-knit community here, but this land is capital, and you could all win from some modern intervention.”

“I’m not your enemy,” Avery admitted, parking the car up on the side of a country lane. “I went to the city to escape how plain Blayne is.”

“You did?”

Avery nodded.

“Then how come you’re back?”

“It’s my home. It’s strange. Not a lot of people get why we live like this, but to us, it makes the most sense. Plus my old man got sick and needed me to help take care of the steer.”

“Okay, I’m going to sound really ignorant for a moment, but is a steer some kind of deer?”

“You came out here without knowing your basic farm animals, Y/N?” he asked with a laugh, and you rolled your eyes. “Come on I’ll show you why we need gumboots around here.”

Holding your nose, you attempted to listen to Avery’s speech about how the pigs of Blayne were some of the best meat pigs in the country. However, you were overstimulated by the smells and the sounds of the barn that you couldn’t quite keep up with the knowledge he was passing on to you.

“Ah, so this is where you were,” a voice mentioned, and you spun around, letting go of your nose and gasped for air. The newcomer smirked, his dimples deepening.

God, you wanted to hate him for being so attractive.

“You know me. I’ve got to help any damsel in distress out.”

“Where is she?” he teased, and you rolled your eyes. “Oh! Miss City, are you getting snippy with me?”

“Thank you for the warning about the owl.”

He grinned. “You’re welcome. So, seen enough pigs and want to go back to the city yet?”

“Not a chance.”

“That’s a pity, should we take her out into the cattle fields, Avery?”

“No need to be that eager to get rid of me,” you bit back and Avery, who had been watching the two of you, started to laugh heartily. You realised then how similar it sounded to May’s laugh. You pointed at him. “Wait, are you two-”

“Sadly, I’m related to him,” Avery admitted dramatically, and you glanced at the scowl on the other man’s face. “Come on Jaehyun, who wants to be your cousin anyway?”

“I never asked to be related to you either but here we are!”

“Jaehyun,” you breathed, and the man in question blinked at you curiously. “Oh, I didn’t get your name last night, you see.”

“I thought you had,” he answered back, grinning again. “Mr Cowboy, isn’t it?”

“Well, you do look like the typical cowboy in the movies when you go around in your boots and hat,” Avery defended, which you couldn’t help but snort a little at.

Jaehyun folded his arms across his chest. “Cattle fields, next. Right?”

You followed them out onto the field, watching where you stepped. Now you knew the reason for the boots. If there hadn’t been enough dung and muck in the pig barn, you certainly had seen more than enough of it out in this field. Climbing up the hill after the two men, you huffed at how easy it was for them.

“I guess there’s no need for a gym membership out here,” you muttered, sucking in a deep breath.

Jaehyun turned and looked at you then. “Come on, Miss City. The cows are over here.”

“I never wanted to see a damn cow, I came to survey the land for suitable resort spots,” you grumbled out of earshot, grateful when the slope evened out, and you reached the top of the field.

Stopping to catch your breath, you blinked at the view. In every direction you looked, the mountain range was so beautiful. All you could see was an expanse of land, which held a lot of possibilities. A golf course, a swimming and spa resort were merely two of the possibilities for Blayne’s development. Being close to nature whilst enjoying leisure pursuits could really put this place on the map.

You turned again, smiling at the wondrous thought of redevelopment until you saw what had come upon you. Backing up from the impossibly large beast, you raised your hands in defence.

“Nice cow.”

“She sure is a beaut, isn’t she?” a voice mentioned at your side, and you yelped in surprise, slipping on a cow patty.

Strong arms reached out to balance you before you hit the ground and you looked up into the face of your saviour, Jaehyun washing his gaze over you momentarily.

And then he started to laugh. “Wow, Miss City, you sure are jumpy! Feeling a little scared, are we?”

“You scared me first!”

“Was it me or the cow?” he questioned with a chuckle, and you yanked yourself free from Jaehyun’s grip, skirting around the curious animal and dashing over to Avery’s side.

He seemed equally amused. “You sure this is a place for you?”

“I’m adaptable,” you muttered, blinking rapidly.

Even you didn’t believe your words now.

“Wow, I’m exhausted,” you mentioned when you arrived back at your residence, falling down onto the couch with a groan.

Jaehyun had joined you for the rest of your exploration with Avery, much to your disdain. Every time you got close to discussing some sort of loose plan with the man, Jaehyun would distract you or shoot down your ideas entirely.

You glared up at the ceiling. “Stupid Cowboy. What would he know?”

The phone rang then, and you whined childishly, hauling yourself up from the couch and going over to answer it. “Oh good, you’re there!”

“Ah, yes. You have a nice home here, June.”

“You think so? It was once the home I raised my children in until we built the one we’re in now. Ah, that’s why I called you. I’ve made extra food and wanted to invite you around for dinner.”

“That’s too generous of you.”

“It’s the least I can do after knowing how long the boys had you out for. I told them to take it slow since you weren’t used to our ways yet. I bet your feet hurt.”

“They do, I’ll admit it,” you confessed and June giggled down the line with you.

“That’s it then! I’ll send Jaehyun around to fetch you!”

“Oh, it’s fine. I can drive myself there if you give me directions.”

“He’ll be there shortly, dearie. I pushed him out the door long before making this call.”

“Well, he should be here then,” you mentioned, glancing outside the house with some unease. “I’ll get ready!”

“See you soon, Y/N.”

After placing down the phone, you dashed upstairs to freshen up your appearance, pulling out a floral boho styled maxi dress that you had bought specifically for your country adventure. Picking up a straw hat and accessorising your middle with a woven belt, you laughed at how carefree you looked out of your usual business attire.

“He should be here by now,” you guessed, looking down the drive for Jaehyun’s truck. Collecting your bag, you stepped out of the house and locked it, slipping the keys into your purse and then jumped when you heard a loud whinny.

Turning to the field adjacent to the drive, you gaped at the sight before you. Jaehyun watched you for a moment before leaping down from the wagon. “It’s a good thing I had to run errands for Dad and didn’t bring a horse for you to ride instead, huh?”

“You didn’t bring the truck?”

“You asked if it was legal yesterday. I doubt you would have gotten in it.”

You eyed the large animal warily. “And you expect me to get up there?”

“Miss City, don’t tell me you’re scared of a mere horse. Back before any car, they were man’s best friend.”

“I thought that was a dog,” you murmured as Jaehyun leapt back up onto the cushioned seat of the wagon, his hand reaching down for yours.

“Ever seen a dog plough a field for crops?” Jaehyun asked with a chuckle, his grip firm around your wrist as he helped you up.

You sat down and looked around yourself hopelessly. “Do I need a seatbelt?”

“You really haven’t experienced much in life, have you, Miss-”

“Y/N,” you interjected, smiling nervously. “Please, call me Y/N.”

Jaehyun stared at you again and then smiled, picking up the reins. “You can hold onto me if you get scared, Y/N. I won’t tell anyone that our city slicker is frightened to ride on a horse wagon.”

“Why did I agree to go out tonight?” you wondered with a groan, shrieking and grabbing onto the front of the wagon when it started to move. Jaehyun laughed at you before eagerly asking the animal to move faster, your hands gripping on more tightly to the bar. “You’re working too hard to get rid of me, Jaehyun.”

“Really? Is it that noticeable?” he wondered and smiled when he watched you loosen your grip. “You’re adapting to this pretty well, though.”

It was your turn to look at him, a smile forming on your lips. “I am, huh.”

He glanced at you and nodded. “Who knows, maybe you’ll last more than a week.”

“Talk to me again when I make it to a month.”

“You’ll be riding a horse by that time,” he suggested, and you scoffed loudly.

“No, thank you. I’m not here to play farm. I’m here to work.”

“Farming is one of the hardest jobs out there. I thought you were here to see how us Blayners tick?”

“Well…”

“I guess you better think about what you’ll wear for a horse riding lesson tomorrow then.”

“I never agreed to it,” you objected and then sat back in your seat when Jaehyun leaned towards you.

“I like your dress by the way. It’s pretty.”

“Still full of yourself,” you mumbled, fanning your cheeks with how hot they grew with his compliment.

Jaehyun grinned. “Still enjoying it, aren’t we?”

_________________

Part 4

[NCT Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

98 notes · View notes

asmo-ds · 4 years ago

Note

(1) i tried to think of a belphie one so here it is, sorry if it kinda bad👉🏻👈🏻 mc has been begging belphie to go to the human realm for xmas tgt but he isn't very sure about it since he did try to kill mc. since mc knows how much he used to love the human realm and humans he probably also loved xmas, they thought he would be excited to go.

How to Love Christmas Again

Belphegor x gn!MC

Word Count: 4295

Genre: Fluff

Summary: As the holiday season rolls around, MC requests to go back home and spend Christmas at their apartment in the human world. Diavolo agrees on the condition they bring a brother to protect them since they have pact marks yet no knowledge of how to use them. Who better to bring then their sleepy boyfriend, Belphegor, even if it means they have to avoid all other humans the whole week!

“Oh right, I almost forgot that was today,” A young Belphegor reaches under his bed to pull out the gift boxes Lucifer had helped him wrap for his twin and the young girl. Beel runs to his own bed bringing out his own gifts for his siblings.

“Did you wrap these yourself, Lilith?” Beel giggles as he observes the horror show of wrapping paper around his gift from her.

“Well… I tried to but had trouble, so I asked Mammon and Leviathan for help - but then Leviathan got wrapped up in tape and it just turned into a mess,” she giggles with a blinding smile. “Anyways open your gifts!”

Belphegor watches as Beel unwraps the gift from their baby sister, revealing a box of freshly baked cookies she had made that morning. Beelzebub gave her a hug thanking her before he moved to watch Belphegor open his gift from Lilith.

He unwrapped the gift and saw a soft pillow covered in the pattern sported by cows. He smiles wide and wraps his arms around her in a tight embrace.

“I sewed it myself, I hope it is soft enough,” she smiles at him.

After they opened their gifts from Beel, a new blanket for Belphegor, and a new dress for Lilith, they moved on to Belphegor’s gifts.

“Don’t call me cheesy, okay?” He blushes as they pull out the shiny golden necklaces. Beelzebub held a necklace with a charm shaped like a sun and Lilith’s sporting a star. Belphie reached down his shirt and pulled out the necklace he had gotten for himself, a moon-shaped charm resting on the chain.

“Belphie these are beautiful!” Lilith exclaims as Belphegor puts it around her neck.

“Think of these as a promise. A promise that we’ll always protect each other.”

The three sat in the circle agreeing and swearing to protect each other no matter the cost.

The Celestial war was the last time he saw those stars. He watched as the necklace flew off of her chest, blood splatter landing on it as the arrow penetrated her wing. He watched as the chain snapped from the force of Lilith’s body flying backward. He watched as he broke his promise to protect her-

Belphie sat straight up, breathing heavily as he woke up from the flashback. He stared straight ahead as he tried to refocus his breathing. Despite the darkness of the attic - he could see the outline of a person next to him. He glanced down at MC as he turned on a lamp. He grabbed their face and checked their pulse, letting out a sigh of relief as they stirred, blinking away the sleep from their tired eyes.

“Belphie? You ok?” MC reaches up to wipe a tear he hadn’t even realized fell from his violet eyes.

He couldn’t respond, his mouth open as nothing but a choked sob came out. MC sat up and pulled him against their chest, rubbing his back soothingly.

“Another nightmare?” they ask, receiving a shaky nod in return. Belphegor looks at the digital clock that rested beside his bed and reads the numbers.

It was 2:03 AM on December 20th.

The next morning, MC and Belphie arrived at breakfast. “MC, the human world holiday season has arrived, Diavolo wants you to be prepared to talk to him this morning about how we can incorporate these human world festivities into our home to make you more comfortable during your stay,” Lucifer announces as MC helps him clean the dishes.

“Actually… I was wondering if perhaps I could go home. Just for a week or so to see family and be in my own home. Christmas is special for me and I don’t really want to spend it in Hell.”

Lucifer looks surprised at their request and opens his mouth, most likely to protest the idea saying it would be a hazard to send MC out to the human world, but he is interrupted by another voice, one belonging to the demon prince himself.

“Of course you can go home for the holidays! Though it may be riskier for you seeing as you now have pacts with all seven demon brothers yet have no idea how to use them. So I will allow you to go home but you will have to take a brother with you,” Diavolo states, causing Lucifer to turn around in surprise.

“I will go with them Diavolo I am the only one who can be trusted-”

“No Lucifer, this is a special holiday and I want you to allow MC to choose for themselves for once.”

MC’s mind immediately goes to Belphie. They thank Diavolo with a big hug due to their excitement and run up towards the attic in search of their sleepy boyfriend.

“Belphie! Belphie!” They jump on the pile of blankets that hid his body beneath them.

“What?” He groans.

“Diavolo said I could go home for a week to celebrate Christmas!” They exclaim and he gives them a half-assed smile.

“Cool. Have fun,” He turns over intending to go back to sleep and not wake up until after the season has passed.

“He said I have to take a brother with me though, so I figured, you used to love the human world so why don’t you join me?” They smile sweetly at him.

He tenses and looks at the ground, avoiding their pleading eyes. “I can’t.”

“But why?!” They whine.

“Because… because I don’t want anybody to get hurt.” He turns to look at MC and they see the fear in his eyes, “what if I get angry again? What if I kill an innocent human while we’re there. MC I can’t go, I don’t want to hurt anybody-”

“Well then we’ll just have to stay inside, no big deal,” they shrug as if they hadn’t a care in the world. “I’ll go food shopping the first day so that we can eat, then we’ll hide out in my apartment all week watching Christmas movies and drinking hot cocoa and all that jazz.”

Belphegor looks at them with hope in his eyes as he contemplates whether or not to join them on their journey.

“You pinky promise we won’t leave the apartment?” He looks at them with a very serious look, and they lean forward, lightly bonking their forehead against his.

“I swear on my soul.” They state before leaning their head down to kiss him softly.

As they prepared to depart for their trip, Lucifer would not stop nagging Belphegor like a mom sending their kid off to summer camp.

“Don’t talk to any humans you don’t know, do you have mittens?! You can’t go without mittens, Belphegor, demons aren’t built for the cold you have to bundle up or else you’ll-” he is interrupted by Belphegor loudly saying his goodbye as he and MC stepped through the portal, landing in front of the apartment building where MC resided. The portal closed behind them and MC grabbed his hand, leading him into their apartment carrying his luggage.

“MC! Long time no see!” the security guard at the front desk smiles widely at them, “you on break from your exchange program in Sweden- or wherever it was you went- for the holidays?” He stands up and walks around the desk to talk more casually to the human.

“George! Yes I’m back, and this is my boyfriend, Belphie, I met him in the exchange program,” MC wraps themselves around Belphegor’s arm as he looks down shyly, afraid to look at any human other than MC.

“Nice to meet ya, Belphie. I’m George, you’ll probably see me a lot since I'm the head of security in this building,” the man reaches his hand out to shake Belphegor’s. Belphie nervously looks at MC who takes the hint and pipes up.

“Sorry about him! He’s Swedish, so he doesn’t really understand, plus he’s a germaphobe so he doesn’t shake hands,” they smile apologetically at the security guard who lowers his hand and gives a nod.

“Tell him I said to enjoy his stay,” George says before walking off.

“Hey Belphie, George says to-”

“Yea I heard him, stupid,” he pokes MC’s cheek before they lead him to the elevator.

As MC reaches their front door and turns the keys they can see Belphie fidget, clearly nervous that they have yet to enter the privacy of MC’s home.

MC uses one hand to push the door open and the other to rub their thumb soothingly over the demon’s knuckles. As soon as they shut the door it feels as if a thousand pounds had been lifted from his shoulders and he lets out a sigh.

“Ok, now that we’re here… do you want a tour?” MC chuckles, grabbing their boyfriend’s hand once more, leading him through the apartment and announcing the rooms as if they were a safari guide.

“Over here you see the bedroom. The natural habitat of an MC. The MC sleeps in this room and nearly never leaves it. This room is where things such as the mating season take place,” MC wiggles their eyebrows suggestively before giving an exaggerated wink, causing Belphegor to snort from how hard he was laughing.

“Your home is very cute, MC,” he compliments.

After picking up their room a bit and placing Belphie’s luggage in the bedroom, MC decides to set up their bed as a nest for them to cuddle in. Belphie and MC lay in the makeshift nest watching horribly hallmark Christmas movies and making fun of their plots before they eventually fall asleep, ending their first day in the human realm.

“Hey, be careful you three!” The white haired angel yells at three teens who run through a town decorated for Christmas.

“Woah! Belphie look!” Lilith grabs his shoulder and they look over to see a giant tree, all lit up (i know light bulbs probably didn’t exist in the era before Lilith died BUT we’re gonna pretend it do :D ) and covered in ornaments.

“Oh, I think they’re gonna put the star on top now,” he, Lilith and Beel all push their way to the front of the crowd, ignoring Mammon calling for them to stay close to him.

“It’s so pretty!” Belphie looks at the young woman and his twin, smiling softly as they stare in awe at the shimmer lights as snow falls all around them in small soft flakes they melt on their skin.

“I wish Lucifer, Asmo, and Leviathan weren’t so busy today-” Lilith frowns. “I know they really just didn’t want to come stand in the cold but… I really think if we could’ve convinced them to come they would have loved this.” Lilith smiles gently and looks back up at the twinkling lights of the star atop the giant pine tree before them, “I hope one day we can all see these lights together.”

“I doubt you’ll be able to get those guys down ‘ere, but ya guys got me!” Mammon catches up to them and smiles.

“Hey Mammon! Can we take a tree from the human world and decorate it at home?!” Lilith asks with a wide smile.

“Well it's a bit late this year, but next Christmas I pinky promise,” He raised his pinky towards her and they locked pinkies, bringing smiles to their faces.

But next Christmas never arrived for Lilith. It was on this trip that she met the human man who she fell for. It was mere months later that he fell ill and they were all cast down from the heavens. Bringing the death of Lilith and the birth of Satan.

Belphie slowly blinked as he winced away from the bright sunlight he wasn’t used to. He raised his nose to the air and smelled something good, so he stood and followed the scent to the kitchen. There he found MC in their pajamas, holding a pan with eggs over a plate that already had bacon and toast on it.

“Belphie!” They place down the pan and run to him, jumping onto him as he catches their thighs, wrapping themself around him as he holds them up, tightly embracing their small form and swinging back and forth playfully.

“Someone seems hyper this morning,” he lets go of MC and they climb down with a laugh.

“I know you were nervous about coming here so I wanted to thank you for joining me with breakfast in bed… so go back to bed and let me surprise you!” Belphie rolls his eyes and climbs back into the bed, moments later MC enters holding the plate he had previously seen them preparing. “Tada! A traditional human world breakfast!”

They eat their breakfast and watch the news, Belphie accidentally laughing at some tragic events due to his demonic nature.

They spend some time decorating with some supplies MC had hidden away in the deepest depths of their closet. They hang a wreath on the inside of the front door and MC pulls out a fake mistletoe, hanging it on a ceiling lamp Belphie was underneath as he strung some lights around the room.

“What’s that thing?” He tilts his head upwards to look at it more closely.

“It’s a human world tradition, wanna try it out?” MC asks innocently.

“Sure why not, what do I have to do-” he’s interrupted by MC pulling his face down to his for a sweet kiss.

“It’s mistletoe, if you and someone else stand under it you have to kiss!” Belphie smiles and gives them one more kiss before looking back down into the box of decorations and spotting a star.

“Oh, this goes on top of the tree, right?” he asks and MC gives a small smile.

“Yea but I don’t know if I’m going to be able to get a tree up here by myself, so we might have to skip that part-”

“We have to have a tree! That's the best part!” Belphie suddenly bursts out, immediately blushing embarrassed by his sudden enthusiasm. “Lilith used to love the trees.”

“Oh, then I’m sure we can find a way!” MC suddenly whips out their D.D.D, pressing a few buttons before raising it to their ear. “Hey Diavolo! I need a favor-”

“Here you two are, have fun decorating,” Diavolo says as they finish screwing a tree he and Lucifer had hauled up to MC’s apartment.

“Honestly, I don’t think you should have called us for this,” Lucifer shakes his head with annoyance.

“Yea you shouldn’t have come to the human world for a Christmas tree, you never could do it for Lilith when she begged-” Belphie scoffs, making Lucifer shoot a glare his way.

“Lucifer and Belphie please behave yourselves, you are representing the Devildom here in MC’s apartment,” Diavolo places a hand on Lucifer’s shoulder.

(from here to the dash mark is a tiny itty bitty bit of Dialuci fluff as a small little bonus)

The three men suddenly hear some snickering as MC looks above Diavolo and Lucifer, causing everyone else to look up in return. They all looked up at the mistletoe that hung above them and MC and Belphie looked at each other with mischief in their eyes.

“Oh yea, Lord Diavolo MC taught me a fun human world tradition, would you two like to give it a try,” Belphie gives an evil smirk.

“Of course, Lucifer you join too!”

As Belphegor explained the tradition Lucifer grew extremely flustered and tried to argue his way out of it, losing in the end as the demon prince was too enthusiastic to participate in human culture and kissed him on the lips with little to no hesitation.

The men left, one beaming with excitement and the other sulking but blushing.

MC wrapped the lights around the tree, occasionally tripping over the long tangled wire. Belphie grabbed some tinsel, tossing it around the tree as MC finished the lights.

MC pulled out the normal ornaments first, handing some to Belphie to hang alongside them.

Then they got to the ones with meaning behind them.

“Baby’s first Christmas?” Belphie reads off the ornament shaped like a cradle.

“Oh yea, that’s from my first Christmas! It has my birthstone in there as well, see!”

As they dig through the ornaments and MC tells stories behind them all he can’t help but smile as he gets to know his lover deeper than he had before.

After hours of this, they finish and star at the star that had yet to be placed on top of the tree.

“Do you want put it on, Belphie?” MC smiles up at him.

“Me? Are you sure?”

“Of course this is your first time decorating for Christmas you said so you should get the full experience!” MC hands him the star and he looks at it, a bit nervous before feeling MC’s lips on his cheek, a silent cheer of encouragement.

He climbs the step ladder MC had placed next to the tree and places the star on, plugging it into the wall as it lit up with white lights.

MC runs to turn off the lights so they can see the Christmas light better and Belphie takes a step back, a big smile on his normally sleepy face.

They stand and stare at the tree happily for a few moments before MC excuses themselves to go make dinner. Belphie lays down on the bed and decides to take a power nap while MC cooks.

“Ah, I’m so sorry sir!” Lilith exclaimed as she accidentally bumped into the shoulder of a young man.

“No worries, having a lady as breath-taking as yourself bump into me must be my Christmas gift,” the man compliments the Angel before introducing himself.

“Lilith!” Belphegor calls after having searched for them for half an hour, he finally spotted them blushing as they chatted with a human man. Her three brothers watched from afar to ensure her safety, but allowed them to hang out together for a few more minutes.

“Lilith, we need to head back home now,” Mammon interrupted the pair, bringing a frown to his baby sister’s face. He walks away to let them say their goodbyes.

“Oh, uh, sir, I would love to see you again sometime, could we perhaps meet here in the center of town in three days time?” She asks with hope in her eyes and rosy cheeks.

“Of course, I will wait here for you to return.” Belphie overheard their goodbyes and got slight chills, happy that his sister seemed excited, but fearful because he knew that love between Angel and human was something not taken lightly.

When they got home, Belphegor and Beelzebub sat and listened to their sister speak of the man and how they were going to return and see him soon. So every three days, the four of them travelled down to the human world, creating a new tradition. One day Lilith started going by herself, more frequently and sometimes spending days in the human world, staying with her new lover.

Belphegor was so happy to see his sister happy and he thanked Christmas for existing as he knew that if it didn’t she would never have met the person who gave her so much life. But now he couldn’t help but curse the wretched holiday as it caused her to meet the person she would give her life trying to heal.

Belphegor woke up the next morning with MC still in bed, sleeping next to him.

He smiled down at the human and thought to himself how hypocritical he was. He had been so mad at Lilith’s lover for her death and claimed loving humans if you were not human was wrong, but here he was staring with pure adoration at a human he was proud to call his.

MC stirred and looked up into sleepy violet eyes before slightly sitting up for a kiss.

They both got ready for the day, brushing their teeth, changing into new clothes and eventually arriving in the kitchen for breakfast.

“Ok, funny story,” MC laughs nervously as they open the cabinets, meeting nothing but air, “we are out of food and I’m going to have to go shopping. So you can either stay here alone or join me. It’s completely up to you.”

Belphegor weighs his options before a small voice in the back of his head tells him to join his significant other in public and protect them from witches or other supernatural creatures that may see the pact marks that adorned their skin.

They unplug the tree to avoid a fire and bundle up to avoid hypothermia.

MC holds his hand the whole way, soothing any nerves he had. They tried to crack some jokes to make him feel less awkward but they eventually stopped as it didn’t seem to help him.

As they shopped Belphie’s vice grip on MC’s hand loosened to a casual hold instead of a fearful one.

“This is actually… kind of nice,” he mumbled as he looked around at the humans shopping, some kids horsing around as their mother tried to reign them in, an old couple slowly making their way down the aisle, a father trying to make his infant laugh at his funny faces.

“See, I told you it wouldn’t be so bad,” MC smiles at him sweetly.

They finished up their shopping and paid for their groceries before leaving. On the way home Belphegor made MC stop so they could look at a snow covered park where parents sat and watched their children and he saw some dogs run after frisbees and snowballs their owners had thrown.

The whole way home Belphie couldn’t stop smiling as he watched humans enjoy their lives despite theirs being so short compared to his own.

Then he saw a young lady bump into a man, apologizing before they struck up a conversation. He saw Lilith and her lover for half a second before blinking and seeing the strangers once more.

When they arrived home and got settled in, putting away the groceries and getting back into their PJs, they sat in front of the TV, watching some show MC wanted to catch up on while they were home where it aired.

A commercial came on that Belphie had seen the night before. It was a Christmas movie that was apparently a “remake” of a story about some green man in the mountains stealing a holiday. He saw on the screen it was apparently ‘in theaters now’, so he turned to the human beside him.

“Hey MC… do you think maybe we could go see that tonight?” he smiled shyly and MC sat up and gave him a soft kiss.

“Of course! I’m glad to see you finally feel good about going outside.”

“I mean… movie theaters are just dark rooms you sit in watching a giant screen for a bit,” he shrugs, clearly still a bit nervous about being around other humans.

“Ok, it is still a start though!” MC hugs him before going onto their phone and looking for movie times.

At the end of the movie MC and Belphie walked out hand in hand, him acting much more natural than when they had first arrived.

They returned to the apartment building and were once again greeted by the security guard, George.

“MC! MC’s boyfriend! Have a nice date?” he smiles at the pair.

“Yes! We saw a movie!” Belphie tries to put on his best Swedish accent and watches as the security guard looks surprised.

“Very nice!” George smiles at him, talking very slowly to ensure Belphie could understand him.

Belphie continued to communicate in short and simple sentences in his god awful attempt at an accent. After they left the lobby, MC and Belphie broke into laughter.

“That was awful” MC laughs out, clutching their stomach.

“I only knew how the accent sounded from that show you were watching last night,” he responds, also laughing very hard.

The rest of the night, Belphie and MC make plans for the remainder of their time in the human world.

The next day they went Ice Skating, Belphie falling over a lot before finally getting the hang of it. Though, by the time he got it, he was exhausted and falling asleep on the ice. MC had to hurry home so he didn’t knock out on the sidewalk.

The day after that was Christmas, and Belphie was grateful he hadn’t had any dreams to upset him the past few days.

He had bought MC a gift before they left the Devildom and MC had left to go get him one yesterday when he fell asleep. They both handed each other gifts and unwrapped them at the same time.

“A blanket that matches my pillow!” Belphie exclaims with a big smile, holding the cow print cloth up to get a better view of it. He wraps it around himself as MC finishes getting the wrapping off of his gift to them.

“Oh wow… Belphie this is beautiful,” they lift the necklace up and place the star shaped charm in their palm.

“I had it custom made,” he pulls his own necklace out from under his shirt, “Beel has one too, the third one, that is shaped like stars too, is on Lilith’s tomb under the house. You came and changed me, MC. I want you to know I don’t see you as Lilith, but you are still a piece of my family, and I promise to protect you forever.”

Belphie was certain he would never see the blood on those stars again, he would protect MC with his life and never let them get hurt by anyone or anything.

#obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #om! belphegor #om! belphie #obey me fluff #obey me x reader fluff #shall we date belphie #belphie x reader #belphie fluff #obey me oneshot #obey me fluff oneshot #belphegor fluff #swd belphegor #belphegor x mc #belphegor avatar of sloth #belphegor oneshot

107 notes · View notes

cdelphiki · 4 years ago

Note

Was re-reading ‘In for a Penny’ when I read this sentence “if we do not rescue Damian today, “Clark said, finally speaking up, “I have a feeling we will one day face him in battle”and thought what if Bruce wasn’t able to find Damian, instead meets him again when he’s ten, how would he feel?What would happen? Damian holding a sword to the father he doesn’t remembers throat, dick finally seeing his brother again. Memories, baby things left untouched in the manor. Would love to hear your thoughts-M

The years since Damian’s kidnapping had not been kind to Bruce.

Dick left him. When he was barely eighteen. Packed up and moved to Bludhaven, where he still lived some six years later.

Bruce couldn’t blame him. Not really. He’d not been much of a father, once Damian went missing.

Then Jason came along, and Bruce had tried really hard for that boy. He’d worked on himself, worked on his availability. Adopted him, right from the start.

It hadn’t mattered.

Because in the end, Jason had left him, too. In the most painful way possible.

At least Damian was out there.

Somewhere.

Growing up, living his life.

Jason’s had been cut short.

After that, Bruce had sworn off kids. He wanted nothing to do with children ever again, because brining a child in his life just meant he’d love that child, and life didn’t let him keep the things he loved.

He wasn’t sure how many more times he could go through that.

Those he loved suffered in the worst ways possible, and how could he do that to another child?

Then Tim came around. Kind of forced his way into Bruce’s life. Reluctantly, and completely against his will, Bruce had come to love Tim, as well. Had adopted him, when the opportunity arose, as tragic as it was.

Talia had made herself scarce in the years since stealing Damian away from him. He’d tried to find them. Many times. But they always evaded him. Were always too well hidden.

He hadn’t… given up.

Per se.

But as Damian grew older, Bruce’s hope dwindled. He’d not even been two yet, when Talia took him away. There was no chance he’d even remember Bruce at five.

Or eight.

Or the ten he was now.

What right would Bruce have to swoop in and steal him away? Rip him away from the only family he remembered?

To him, Bruce was the absent father, living on the opposite side of the planet, and as much as he wanted to see his son, as badly as he wanted to hold his baby in his arms, he was a stranger to Damian.

He had no right over him any more.

All he had left of his little boy were pictures and a stuffed cow.

He’d given away everything else. To Clark, when Lois was expecting Jon.

To Selina. When she was expecting Helena.

Damian was too old for baby things, anyway. And walking past a nursery was painful.

They’d turned that room into Jason’s.

It wasn’t any less painful, now.

Bruce tried not to think about any of it. Tried not to think about Damian.

But it was hard, when Talia al Ghul kidnapped him while he was on mission in England.

Strung him up and got right in his face.

Hers was not a face he wanted to see.

“Talia,” he snarled, flexing his hands, testing his strength against the bat-thing that held him tight.

It would take a remarkable show of strength to free himself. He wasn’t sure he could. Even if he did, there were half a dozen more of the bat-things all around him. He knew himself outnumbered when he saw it.

He was just thankful Tim had taken the weekend off, rather than accompanying him on this trip.

“What do you want, Talia,” he spat, when she came too close, running her fingers across his chest. He had no interest in her. And she should know that by now.

She had killed any chance of there being anything between them eleven years prior.

And then burned it to the ground when she stole their son away from him.

“It’s nice to see you, too, Beloved,” she drawled, pulling away from Bruce and drawing her sword. She toyed with it, staring at the blade in her hand, without saying anything further.

“What. Do. You. Want,” he ground out. Games were also not something he was interested in.

“Hm,” she hummed, still toying with her blade for a moment before finally asking, “You remember our son?”

“How could I forget,” he growled. If she had merely kidnapped him to taunt him…

He might need to call in Clark to hold him back. He pulled at his arms again, and could feel the give in his captors’ hold. Knew, if he pulled his arms in just the right way, kicked his legs back at just the right moment, he’d be able to free himself easily.

“Hm. Yes, well,” she said, waving a hand at him, as if dismissing his anger, “He has grown wild. I can no longer control him.”

His sweet little baby?

Unlikely.

“What did you do to him?” he shouted, seriously contemplating calling in Clark. Because he was not sure he’d be able to control himself if he found out Damian had been mistreated in any way.

And he couldn’t think of a single other explanation for his Damian turning ‘wild.’ Not his sweet little baby who loved animals and was so gentle. So empathetic. So kind.

“Do not be so dramatic,” Talia snapped, “I thought you’d be happy.”

“Happy about what.”

“He needs… taming,” she said, twirling her sword around, a little, before she sheathed it again, “He lacks discipline. I had hoped some time with his father would straighten him out.”

“Time with,” he started, only to fumble over his words.

Was she…

Introducing him to Damian?

Why… why would she… after all these years…?

What was her game?

“You’ll hear from me soon, Beloved, though I’ll imagine you’ll be busy. I intend to hold the whole world hostage.”

Bruce tried to look back up at her, to ask her what the fuck that meant, but his head was pushed forward by one of the man-bats, and the entire world seemed to freeze.

Because a small child had materialized before him.

A… boy.

His boy.

In the eight years since he’d seen Damian, he had changed so much, but at the same time, not at all.

He had the same nose. The same… little button nose he’d had, as a baby. The same bright green eyes.

The same scowl.

“Damian,” he whispered, looking Damian up and down, trying to commit every little detail to memory.

“Father,” Damian responded, pushing his sword forward, almost touching Bruce’s neck, “I imagined you taller.”

“You-“ Bruce started, but had to stop. Because he was overcome with laughter.

The man-bats let go of him, and Bruce slumped to the ground, right to his knees, only keeping himself upright with his hands as his laughter turned a tad hysteric.

His little boy.

His little boy, was standing right in front of him. Was… Was within reach.

Was coming home with him.

“You are the great warrior Mother has told me about?” Damian asked skeptically, his sword now sheathed.

That was enough to pull Bruce back to the moment. He sniffed, and sat back so he could get a good look at his little boy.

“Hi, Damian,” he said, smiling a little, to force the overwhelming urge to weep to go away.

Damian scowled, a little, and shot Bruce as critical look. “How do you know my name?”

“What?”

Out of all the things Damian could ask…

“My name. Mother said you did not know of me. She did not tell you my name just now. How do you know it?”

“I- What?” Bruce repeated.

“You are not as intelligent as Mother claimed. Shame.”

“Damian,” he said, slowly, “You- you lived with me. For almost a year, as an infant.”

“Tt,” he huffed, rolling his eyes dramatically, “Now you are suggesting my mother is a liar. She has done a lot of things, but she has never lied to me.”

“Just, come here,” Bruce said, looping an arm around Damian’s shoulders and tugging him close, “I have missed you so much.”

Damian tensed in Bruce’s arms, but didn’t push him away. That is, not until Bruce started crying.

Bruce didn’t blame him. He’d be uncomfortable, too, if a stranger claiming to know and love him started crying into his hair.

They had so much ground to recover.

- - -

Damian was a massive brat.

Bruce felt like a terrible parent for thinking such a thing about his own son, but Damian was downright horrible.

He did nothing but yell and scream and throw things around. He fought with Alfred. Fought with Bruce.

Hated Tim.

Considering the boy had attempted to push Tim off the top level of the cave, that first night Bruce brought him home, he couldn’t trust Damian anywhere near Tim.

And Tim hated Damian in return.

Or, at least, considered him to be the ‘son of satan’ and avoided him at all costs.

Bruce wasn’t sure how to make his family all mesh together. Wasn’t sure how to get Damian to calm down and give them all a shot.

All those years Bruce had imagined, fantasized with it would be like to get Damian back, never once had he considered he might not like the boy.

He still loved him, of course. Loved him so much it hurt.

His son was finally home, and his home had been thrown into pure chaos.

Handing Damian the cow had been a difficult decision.

For eight years, that cow had been all Bruce had. The only physical reminder he had of the little boy he’d lost.

Damian and Cow had been inseparable, when he was an infant. Bruce had bought three more, the very second he realized how attached to the dumb toy Damian had become. He had four of those cows, and when Talia’s men took Damian, they’d taken none of them.

It’d been a stab in his heart, every time he looked at cow. Knowing how scared Damian would be without it. How upset.

Knowing Damian likely cried for weeks, if not months, for that stupid cow.

And in the eight years since Damian’s kidnapping, Bruce had become a little attached to the cow, himself. It sat on his bed stand. Right next to his favorite photo of Damian. He pat cow’s head every night, as if doing so would be telling his own little boy ‘good night, I love you.’

Just like he’d done every single night Damian lived with him.

Handing Damian that cow was difficult. Because Damian destroyed everything he was given. He was violent. He threw tantrums.

And he was, above all, not a child.

But Cow belonged to Damian, and Bruce was unable to put it off any longer.

“Damian,” he said, knocking on his boy’s door, allowing it to creak open as he did, “I wanted to give you something.”

“What is it now,” Damian started, but paused when he got a look at the toy in Bruce’s hand. Bruce walked over to the bed where Damian was reading and held it out, for Damian to take.

But instead, Damian just said, “That’s… Mr. Cow.”

“Yeah,” Bruce said, laughing a little to cover up the desire to cry.

Because Damian remembered.

“I—“ Bruce started, “He was yours. When you lived here. I’ve— I’ve kept him in my room, ever since you left. To remind me of you. But, he was yours, so I thought I should give him back.”

“Why,” Damian said, slowly, in the least snotty tone Bruce had heard yet, “Why do I remember a stupid toy but I do not remember you?”

Bruce sighed, and sat down on the bed next to his son. He placed Cow down in Damian’s lap, even though Damian made not move to take it.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. He’d been a little distraught when none of the photos had jogged anything.

He hadn’t specifically expected Damian to remember things from when he was 20-months-old, but to have his own boy accuse him of doctoring the photos, just to “get into his head” and “paint his mother as the liar” had hurt.

“You were young. Most people don’t remember much from before the age of three, and you weren’t even two when you left.”

“But I remember the cow.”

“Yes,” Bruce said, placing his arm behind Damian as he leaned back, “You couldn’t sleep without the damn thing. My guess is you cried for it every night for months, after you left. It probably stuck with you because of that.”

“Oh.” Damian placed his hand on cow’s head and stroked. Just once. Before his cheeks flushed and he yanked his hand away sharply.

“I’m really happy you’re back,” Bruce said, moving his hand so it was sitting on Damian’s shoulder. Damian still didn’t let him hug him, but at least he didn’t shrug his hand away. “I hope you know that. I want nothing more than to get to know you.”

“Thank you, Father,” Damian said crisply, then faltered before adding, much less confidently, “I have always wished to… know you.”

Bruce couldn’t help it. He pulled Damian in by the hand on his shoulder, and wrapped his arms around. “Well, I’m glad we have this chance, then.”

For once, Damian didn’t fight him. He did fidget, a little, with Cow started to fall, but he caught the little toy and held it a little more securely while Bruce rested his head down on Damian’s hair.

And when Damian didn’t push him away for several minutes, Bruce started to think… maybe Damian wasn’t a hopeless case, after all.

#this is your fault #also it turned a little sweeter than I first thought it would so :)#happy ending #i'll post this to ao3 in a couple days #or maybe tomorrow #idk #wanna put some time between the new chapter and it #damian wayne #bruce wayne #batman #robin #batfam #batfamily #fanfiction #c writes #pennyverse #sort of alt universe #remember i aged dick up for this fic #Anonymous

279 notes · View notes