#you can tell he'd put his whole heart into that role | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kaeyas-beloved · 1 year ago

Text

a moment too late

Characters: Ayato, Diluc, Childe, Cyno, Wriothesley, Zhongli

— your husband doesn't make it to you in time...

CW: ANGST w/ very little to no comfort, gn!reader (they/them pronouns), scars (Diluc), blood (Diluc, Childe, Cyno, Zhongli), death (all except Cyno and Diluc), kidnapping (Cyno), minor Fontaine Act 1 + 4 spoilers (Primordial Sea Water - iykyk), spoilers for Childe’s real name

val's no sympathy novemeber masterlist

I don't know if I can take a month of hurting my boys....

Thinking about them not making it in time...

Ayato, who had been in an important meeting.

He'd given strict instructions to all his retainers and the Shuumatsuban to not interrupt under any circumstance. So, when one of the newer helpers knocked on the door, the commissioner was less than pleased. Without letting the young man get a word out, Ayato cuts him off, a sharp smile on his face. "Please, wait outside. I'll deal with the matter after this."

When the retainer tried again, a feeble "but, my lord-!" sputtering over his twisted tongue, the change in Ayato's tone couldn't be missed, and it left no room for interjections.

When a second knock echoed through the room some minutes later, it took everything in the clan head not to sigh out loud in front of all the powerful politicians and businessmen. This time, however, when it was the familiar face of Thoma that stepped in, a scarily straight face as his expression, something shifted in the male. It didn't help that the pyro user didn't stop his advancement toward him, even at the call of his name.

It was like the whole world shattered the moment the blond leaned by his ear, the news that you'd been placed in the nearest hospital plummetting his heart into his stomach.

There's this inner struggle that takes over, the role of a leader and your husband fighting against one another - he can't just leave so abruptly, but he also feels like he might crumble if he isn't by your side in the next ten seconds.

It's the firm hand that's placed on his shoulder that breaks him away from his thoughts. Following the arm he meets the slight smile of Thoma, "I have this handled, my lord. Go, be with them."

He's up and out of the room in an instant, briskly walking in the direction of the hospital. When he gets there he borderline demands the receptionist to tell him your room number, off again the moment she gets the last syllable out. Just as he reaches the curtain separating you from him, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest, a doctor steps out.

"Lord Kamisato..." his tone is grave as he blocks the entrance with his body. Despite the obvious attempt to stop the young lord from entering, your husband tries to sidestep him. He's stopped by a simple raise of the hand and he feels a mix of disdain and unsettlement swirl within.

"Please, let me speak with them," Ayato nothing but begs, something he never does. He's known as a negotiator, a logical reasoning man, he doesn't need to beg for what he needs in the political world, but for you, his world, he'd gladly grovel at this man's feet just for you.

The aforementioned man licks his lips, adjusting his clipboard so it rests against his chest, "I'm sorry Mr. Kamisato, but that won't be possible..."

The urgency rises and Ayato moves the doctor out of his way, stepping into your room. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together about what was trying to be said, but your lover can't bring himself to believe it. Not you too.

The moment he's at your bedside he leans close, trying to wear a smile as he places his hand on your shoulder, softly shaking you the exact same way he did that very morning. "My dear... wake up. This is no time for your silly tricks, we have to go home and have dinner together like I promised." His warm hands move up to your cheek, brushing his thumb along your equally warm skin, but when you make no move or noise the reality finally sets in for him.

His broken smile slips and all he can manage is a soft call of your name. Of course, there's still no answer, and Ayato is stuck flipping between the different stages of grief.

What if he'd listened the first time? Let the retainer who initially walked in speak? Would he have gotten a chance to speak with you? To tell you he loves you? To say goodbye properly?

You can't actually be dead, right? There's no way this is happening to him again.

He starts to promise to spend more time with you, he'll take off as much time as you want him to, he'll take you to that restaurant you've been wanting to go to but couldn't bring yourself to without him, he'll visit the land of Liyue with you - he knows you've been gushing about the scenery and culture recently. He'll do it all and more, you just had to open your eyes again for him.

Silence.

"Damn it all..." he whispered, face twisting in agony. Of course he couldn't have it his way this time. As if his parents weren't enough, the world just had to take you away from him too.

The doctor watches for a moment as one of the most powerful men in Inazuma sheds tear after tear before him, the droplets falling and hitting your lifeless body. As Ayato sinks to his knees before you, the doctor takes this as his cue to step out.

For the next few hours, the hospital is noticeably quieter, no one daring to interrupt a man who's just lost one of the dearest people to him.

For the next few hours, Ayato's tears slowly soak your shirt, his grip on the bedding knuckle white, his sobs muffled by your skin as it slowly grows colder and colder, fighting to commit everything about you to memory.

That night, he could not bring himself to eat dinner, for all he could remember was you, the way you smiled at him and how it was all ripped away from him, never to be seen again.

———

Diluc, whose connections are spread all over the world yet no one could locate you.

It should be impossible. The owner of Dawn Winery only associates himself with competent business partners. So, how could it be that the best of the best from all walks of life and all backgrounds couldn't locate the one person he needed to find?

Tirelessly, the redhead looked for you. Many sleepless nights weighed on him from shouldering so many responsibilities at once. He constantly asked for updates on the investigation and every time the news that there were no advances was just another layer of stress for him. So, of course, the moment the word of your location reached his ears, Diluc was up and out the door, claymore in hand, a fury in his eyes that few have seen only a handful of times.

When he got there, there being some far corner of Starfell Valley on the mountainside, there was no time to process or ask questions. All he knew was that you needed help if you wanted even a chance of making it out alive.

By a stroke of luck, you managed to escape the Abyss Mages that had been holding you hostage, an atrocious act that was no doubt aimed to make The Darknight Hero suffer. However, weaponless and exhausted, the creatures of down under easily caught up to you, surrounding you and throwing you around like a ragdoll. Diluc counted seven - one hydro, two electro, two cryo and two pyro - each using the elements to keep you from running too far.

With a few swift strikes of his enflamed claymore, the cryo and hydro mages disappeared in a cloud of red and black. Of course, they'd be the easiest of the group to get rid of. The last four would be the real challenge.

In between strikes, Diluc managed to get close to you, bending down to your fallen form. “Are you alright? Can you walk?” He did a once over of your body, noting that dirt clung to you and a couple cuts littered your skin. You could barely move too, having the shit kicked out of you.

“Not very far…” you groaned, raising your body slightly off the ground. Your lover nodded, glancing at the enemy before helping you stand.

“That’s alright, just get to that tree over there. I’ll come get you and take you home soon.” Diluc watches for a moment as you nod and begin to make your way over, turning his back to you once you've made decent progress. Taking up his weapon once more, it's a brutal clash of sparks and fire as he lets his adrenaline and rage fuel his every move. Soon, one electro mage goes down, and then the second and then one of the pyro ones until all that stands between him and getting you medical care and a nice bath is a single pyro Abyss Mage.

The demonic creature cackles loudly, a shrill sound that echoes in the silence. As it begins to wave its staff, a shock of recognition strikes Diluc and he glances around, looking for where the fire-breathing faces are going to appear. When he doesn't spot any dread fills his being and he chances a glance towards you, praying to the Archons that what he's thinking isn't about to play out.

The gods weren't in his favour.

Time seems to slow as he watches the triangle of heads surround you; he watches as you slowly turn to face one head-on, your tired eyes widening as you register the situation. Dilcu's only able to catch you turning your face away before he attacks the mage while its guard is down, interrupting its early dance of victory.

The next few minutes are a blur, both for you and your husband. Everything hurts, any slight movement or breath sends shooting pain through your body. When Diluc picks you up off the ground you let out the most heartbreaking cry he's heard and it took everything in him not to just stand there and soothe you.

He mumbled apology after apology, offering words of comfort as he ran as best he could without harming you further. When he made it to the cathedral he was ushered out of the room, every nun available flocking to your side. Despite the overwhelming emotions building in him, Diluc lets you go, waiting with as much patience as he can muster, which isn't a lot at that moment.

It takes about an hour before a sister approaches him, every second that he waited excruciating. She tells him that while your face was unharmed, you having managed to lean out of the way just in time, your upper arm, shoulder and the base of your neck on your left side were burned pretty bad and that scarring was almost guaranteed.

"But are they alive?" is all he asks in return. He cares that you were hurt, but he cares more to know if you'll live to spend another day with him. All the sister can do is nod, informing him that recovery will be slow, but you are alive. She adds right after that while you passed out from everything he was still allowed to enter and sit by your side. So, he does.

The nun didn't lie when she told him that things would be slow. It took several days before you could be discharged, and even when you were the days and nights that followed were filled with more torture than the usual joy.

Your burns would irritate at the slightest things, and you started to doubt your looks, wondering if your husband would still love you by the end when the wounds were all healed. At night you were haunted by nightmares of your time in captivity, and by the face of the abyss spell that burned you. It didn't help that the face was red and fluffy, just like Diluc's hair, leaving you to back away from him every time you woke up from that recurring dream, your mind tricking you that that thing had come back.

And all Diluc could do was hold you close to his chest once you saw that it was just him. He'd rub a warm hand along your back as you sobbed and shivered, quietly blaming himself for not being fast enough - to find you, to defeat the enemy, to get you out of the way of the fight. If he had been, if he succeeded in any of those things, then maybe you wouldn't have to live with this pain and trauma.

You were alive, but at what cost?

———

Childe, who was all the way in Inazuma for a mission.

Your husband left you that fateful day with a tight hug, a promise to come home and a kiss on the lips. As he walked further and further away from you all you could think about was greeting him in the same fashion. Your touch was his favourite thing after all, a reminder that you're there with him and that you love him despite all his wrongdoings.

The day came when Ajax set foot back in his homeland, and the first thing he did was search for you at the dock. When he didn't spot you, he'll admit he was a little disappointed but didn't think much of it. You were most likely just relaxing at home.

Yet, when he walked through the door he couldn’t find you anywhere. “Strange… where could they have gone? Maybe mom and dad’s?”

A quick trip over there reveals nothing however, just the tidbit of information from his mother on how it’s been a couple days since you’ve visited and that you last told them you were needing to chop some firewood.

Now he was not only confused but a sense of dread plagued his chest. Hoping it’s just his normal worrying, Ajax bids farewell to his family and heads back home. Sure enough, he spotted some stacked logs off to the side. What didn’t make sense though was the lack of an axe and the footprints that lead further into the tree line behind your home.

Following the tracks, the male’s eyes widen and his expression falls as the patterns in the snow go from clean prints to frantic clusters, as if you began running. What really injected fear into him though was the barely visible Treasure Hoarder insignia buried in the snow, its gold sheen glistening from the sun.

At this point his feet had a mind of their own as he picked up the pace, his mind running a mile a minute with the scariest thoughts his brain could conjure.

He wasn’t sure if he should've been relieved or frightened when he found you lying in the snow. Either way, he sprinted the rest of the way to you, calling out your name. You were on your side, back to him; you must’ve rolled into the fetal position to stay warm.

And that’s when he noticed it, the pink tint of the usually pure white snow surrounding your fallen form. Panic shoots through him as he rolls you onto your back, his hand recoiling at the state you were in, covering his mouth.

"No..." your cold gaze stares up at the sky, skin lacking the warmth he craves after a long day. Between the folds of your undone coat reveals where most, if not all the blood flowed from, now dry from days passed. With a shaky hand, he moves the cloth aside, surveying the damage.

The cut was deep but didn't hit anything major from the looks of it... you would have bleed out slow and painfully, and the mere idea makes him sick to his stomach. More and more he looks at the damage done to you and the more his blood boils and his heart stutterers. You were innocent, his spouse, his best friend, you had no intimate dealings with Fatui work, so why you?

His eyes narrow back in the direction of the insignia, the sorrow morphing into anger; they were fucking cowards, going after you instead of him. At the sanctuary of your home no less.

Looking back at the body that once housed your soul, he noticed something odd about your hand. It was clasped shut like you were holding onto something.

He starts to pry your fingers open, and for just a moment he can imagine that you're alive, back in the warmth of your home, grasping his scarf in a game of keep away. He'd pull you close, wrapping an arm around you and trapping you to his chest, grasping your wrist and trying to get the red fabric from you. Your husband would laugh merrily, "demanding" that you give him it back or else, to which you'd tell him no, because as long as you had it then he couldn't leave for the day.

When your palm finally opens up is the same moment time really stops and the world doesn't feel real around him. Picking up the small object, Ajax clasps it in his own hands, bringing it close to his chest - his heart - in hopes of feeling just the last bit of you left behind. He won't ever know this, but what he's doing now was exactly what you did in your final hour - you held the tangible promise you made with him close to you, your thoughts filled with him and only him as you took your last breath.

From that day onwards, your wedding ring rests against his collarbone, a string looped through it. He never takes it off, nor does he remove his own ring, because to him, you were the only one fit to take the place at his side in life. He doesn't want anyone else to love him, because no one could ever love or hold him in such high regard like you did.

It was everything or nothing, and you are his everything. Since you're gone, he'll gladly settle for nothing. Anything else and he'd label himself a cheater to your love.

———

Cyno, who prioritized catching the mastermind, lest any more innocents get hurt.

The General Mahamatra trudged back through the desert sands, clouds of dust trailing behind him. His grip was tight against the criminal’s wrists, leaving no room for escape. While part of him was solely focused on the captured mastermind, another part of him was thinking about you and how he's going to make it up to you for neglecting you the last few weeks. How could he ever possibly thank you or repay you for your neverending patience?

Rounding the last rock, Cyno finally makes it back to where he left you, having instructed you to wait there until he returned. You know that it was vital to stay put, so why is it that you've disappeared? Eyes red like the sunset scan the camp, finding that nothing was missing among your personal belongings or supplies.

As he continued to try and piece together the clues, you stood frozen in the shadows, an arm pulling you against a chest, keeping you in place. The hand over your mouth didn't help quell your fear, nor did the warm, rancid breath that tickled your neck.

How hard do you have to stare at the back of your lover's head for him to just turn in your direction!? Apparently very hard, because no matter how much you will a telepathic message his way, he still fails to find you. Tears begin to slide down your face - is this really it? Will this be the end? When he's so close to you? Will he turn and walk in the wrong direction, giving the man holding you time to escape with you in tow?

The looming threat that if you step out of line you risk harming yourself and Cyno plays in your mind, but you also remember nights lying in bed with your husband, whispering reassurance to him that no matter the situation you knew he'd always save you. You had full confidence in his abilities.

Gathering your resolve you take a leap of faith and elbow your captor, biting the hand that impairs your voice. Making a mad dash from the hiding spot, you scream for Cyno, watching as his head whips in your direction.

It all happened so fast after that. One second there's just you, him and the two Eremites and in the next, you're surrounded. The mastermind Cyno had been holding manages to retch his arms free, whistling a tune causing other desert dwellers to pop up from seemingly nowhere. A capture net is being thrown over you, aiming true and trapping you once more. Cyno, now flanked from all sides, can only watch helplessly as two men grasp the ends of the net, dragging you like you're nothing but a sack of goods.

You squirm with all your might, but it does nothing as you're effortlessly tossed in a caravan, screaming and sobbing for your husband. Amidst the scuffle, the leader orders the others to "shut them up" and right after a powder is poured on you, the effects taking seconds to kick in.

You begin to quiet until you slump on your side, and Cyno feels the urgency build even more. He channels all the strength he has into at least breaking through to get to you, but the moment he does the snap of reins echoes out and the cart takes off.

So, he runs, because for once something much for valuable that his life is on the line. Because he can't afford to let the bad guy get away this time.

But a man cannot match the pace of a horse, and it isn't long before his stamina reaches its limit and he stumbles, and you disappear over the horizon.

———

Wriothesley, who believed he could save everyone.

By no means was the warden of the Fortress of Meropide lacking in skills. He's proven time and time again that he's worthy of the title of Duke among the underwater structure, able to shoulder the responsibility of keeping each and every inmate well cared for and as comfortable as possible.

Perhaps that was the reason he's failing now to protect those he really cares for, for you were no inmate, but rather the person he swore to spend the rest of his life with.

He knew that this day would come, but he was still so, so unprepared for it. The damn seal was due to break sooner or later, and it chose today of all days to do so. The evacuation was quick, maybe even quicker than the first one, but there was one difference this time around. Today was also the day that a couple Melusines had come in Monsieur Neuvillette's place, delivering some reports to Wriothesley while also taking this time to speak with Sigewinne.

"Where are they?" The Duke grits his teeth, running through every area he can reach. You weren't far behind, having insisted a second pair of eyes was better than one. When another room turned up empty he slammed his first into the wall, cursing loudly.

You did another look through in the places he missed before sighing, placing a hand on his chest, "We'll find them Wrio. Take a deep breath, please." He stares at you for a moment, doing as you suggested. You offer a small smile, "There aren't many rooms left, they've gotta be here."

"I know," he sighs, running a hand through his messy hair, "but we're running out of time."

Just as he says that the building rumbles and shakes, the sound of a pipe bursting in the distance sending fear through your body. All it takes is a shared look for you two to start running again, eyes and ears sharp as you try to catch even the slightest signs of life.

There were only two rooms left to check when you heard a call, not by a Melusine but by a pair of inmates. Turning to look, your stress levels spike.

“Shit, this isn’t good,” Wriothesley mutters, surveying the situation the moment you both made it over. One of the inmates was trapped underneath a metal panel, and his buddy wasn’t strong enough to lift it off him on his own.

They plead for help and you can see the cool grey eyes of your lover start to unfocus, a million thoughts passing through his mind. Time is running out, and as he's internally about to lose his cool the sound of your voice brings him back.

Laying a hand on his shoulder you squeeze firmly, "Listen, how about we split up? You deal with this and I go find the Melusines. We'll be faster that way."

His eyes widen at your proposition, and he doesn't even have to think twice about denying, "Now, hold on just a-!"

Another tremor, and you have to harden your tone to get your point across, “We don’t have time Wriothesley, help them and I’ll search the two rooms. When you’re done get them out of here, I won’t be far behind!”

He wants to say no, wants you to get to the surface and he'll take care of the inmate and missing Melusines, but as he looks at the crumbling Fortress he finds himself biting his lips before nodding. "You better stay safe, or else."

You smile, turning and disappearing into the second last room. A quick search proves nothing and when you leave you see your husband beginning to pull out the stuck inmate. You're able to meet gazes for a moment only to break it off, rushing into the last room.

It's easy to spot the brightly coloured blue beings amongst the dreary Fortress walls. "Thank Archons!" You sigh, almost tripping over your feet in your hurry to get them, scooping them up in your arms, "we have to go now you two!"

There's a groan of metal and the clatter of something collapsing in the distance, and it's safe to say you didn't waste time sprinting out of there. As you pass where you last saw your husband, there's a momentary wave of relief at seeing him no longer lingering there. You know then that he's gotten out, and that he's probably waiting anxiously for you.

The thought pushes you to get out faster, jumping over any puddles that have formed or debris. But just because you can jump doesn't mean you can dodge.

One piece then two fell from above, but when you look up dread courses through you upon the realization that a good section of the roof is about to drop. You acted before you could fully think and tossed the two tiny beings in your arms, sprinting just a little faster before leaping yourself. You're glad you managed to throw them out of the collapse zone, but you weren't so lucky, your leg getting trapped from midway to your knee and down under the pile of rubble. All it took was one attempt at tugging your leg out to know it was stuck under there good.

"Go," you pointed in the direction of the exit, immediately beginning to dig yourself out. The least you could do was get them to safety. The Melusines however hesitated, looking at each other before looking at you again. You knew they weren't strong enough to lift anything off you, so you repeated the one-word order, adding that you'd be right behind them.

You hear more than you see them run off, and after a minute of struggling you manage to free yourself, continuing towards the exit.

Wriothesley didn't stick around the entrance, instead busying himself with checking on everyone. If he didn't then he'd go mad and rush back in to get you. As he made another round he spotted the two creatures of the sea clutching onto the Iudex, their heads buried in his neck. If they were safe, then you must've made it out too, right?

Wriothesley gives the order to close the Fortress of Meropide off completely, and he watches unaware as he cages you in. It's only by chance that, once he's almost to the surface, he looks out the window of his escape submarine and through one of the windows of the Fortress. The horror sets in.

Even if it's useless, you stumble and limp up to the glass, banging on it, screaming for him. You're not sure what he'd do though, maybe you just wanted to see him one last time, wanted to tell him you love him, that it's not his fault. You stare at him, tears streaming down your face before turning your back to the ocean and sliding down to the ground.

Even if he can't hear you, you whisper out your love for him, how you'd never hold this against him. You pray to the Archons, to the Traveler, to Neuvillette, to Clorinde to watch over him for you.

You eye the rising water, and to make it just a little more bearable you pretend it's the first time you got Wriothesley to go swimming with you. You had dip your toes in first, as a show that the water wouldn't bite. He wasn't scared of the water, and he knew how to swim; he wasn't ashamed of the scars on his body either. No, he refused to go swimming back then because he didn't want to freeze, and it took you and the trust he placed in your word to tell him the water was perfect.

So, you repeat that same action, imagining Wriothesley is right beside you like that day years ago.

From the water pod, your husband watches frozen as you vanish in an instant, continuing to watch as the water rises until it's above the height of the glass. In that single moment, most of the warmth in his heart vanishes along with you.

"You promised you'd be safe... I trusted you..."

It was the first and last time any prisoner would see the almighty Wriothesley cry out, for he swore sometime later that he'd close off his heart and never let anyone get as close as you did. He knows deep down that's not what you'd want, but he knew he could never go through the same pain again and still continue to live.

———

Zhongli, who you were fighting side by side with.

It's always been like that, you and him up in arms against the world. It was like that in the Archon War, in the Cataclysm and any other time someone threatened the safety of the Lord of Geo's territory. You had his back and he had yours, something that only grew stronger as your relationship developed from war buddies to friends then finally to lovers.

It was... naive of you both to think that you'd be able to spend eternity together without issue. You were too blinded by the fact that you were both going to withstand time and he believed that there was no way he'd fail to protect you, not with the strength he possessed.

Your downfall was not due to time or a lack of strength, but rather your own desire to keep the man you love safe from harm.

Zhongli did not see the sword pierce your skin, but he did hear the strangled cry you let out. He felt the fear wash over him, he saw the bloody aftermath as you fell forward into him, no longer able to hold yourself upright.

Instinctively he wraps his arms around you, sinking to the grass with you. Crimson stains his hands and clothes fast as if the wound was his own and he knows right then that your time together is limited.

The pain you feel is searing and with each breath you take you're fighting to keep that air in your lungs long enough to get more. Your husband spoke softly as he stroked your shoulder, "Why did you take the hit for me?"

When you looked up into his warm, amber eyes you knew then that this was the last time he'd hold you, the last time you'd speak with one another. How interesting it is that you both realized at different points that this was the end.

"You..." you cough, body trembling in his hold and Zhongli almost regrets asking you to speak. He just wants to make you comfortable in your last moments, to act as if everything is okay. "You... were going to get hurt."

The man you knew to never weep lets a single tear slide down his face, a light chuckle getting stuck in his throat, "ah, how like you to put me above yourself. I'm the same way with you, so I suppose I can't point fingers, now can I?"

“No… you can’t,” you smile back, but it’s tough to force it through the pain. You cough again and this time a little blood comes up as well.

It’s getting harder and harder to breathe as the seconds tick by. “Morax.”

The former Archon stiffens; you rarely ever call him by his real name unless you're serious about something. "Yes, my dear? What is it?" When he sees you trying to lift your hand to his cheek, Zhongli dips his head, placing his own hand over yours.

Glazed eyes watch as you swallow, stuttering on your own breath, "I'm... I'm very proud of the man you've become compared to the Archon I first met. I'm very proud of the things you've done for Liyue, and I'm grateful for the things you've done for me."

Your eyes droop a little, and he knows your time to depart is near when he sees you rest your head against him more and with the way he has to hold up your hand for it to stay resting on his cheek. He swears he won't let you slip away until you've said your final peace.

"I... I need you to promise me something Morax."

"You know I will always do my best to honour your wishes," he tells you, his grip tightening on your hand. A sudden breeze picks up, blowing his hair in such an elegant way that your face softens, never not amazed by his beauty. Tranquillity washes over you, and it may sound crazy, but the scent the wind brought to you smelt like home, like a simpler time in your life.

All other sounds are drowned out, the wind blowing them far away so he could hear you clearly, "You have to find happiness again... even though I won't be there for you. Can... can you promise me that?"

He pulls you impossibly closer, removing your hand just to place a gentle kiss on your palm before returning it to its place, "I promise." In that moment he feels like he's lied to you, for he believes he'll never truly recover from your death, but that doesn't mean he won't try for you. And as you smile up at him for the last time, Morax feels that he could live with his answer to you.

Much like his friends of old, he knows he'll see you in the little things around the city - a lantern, a blooming flower, a cup of tea, the fires in fireplaces - as if you're watching over him. He'll continue to walk forward as everything passes him by, mingling with the ever-changing people and culture and surrounding himself with friends, because that's what he promised you, and he wants you to see that even when you're not by his side to experience it yourself.

"I'm happy now, see? But I will never be as happy as I was with you"

Tag list (both regular and event exclusive): @spoopy-fish-writes // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @kaeyaloml // @x-zho // @mariposa666haruka // @quackquackmfs // @kunikuzushiii // @genshin-impact-writings // @ventisweetheart // @lordbugs @leena-shi // @ari-the-wr1ter // @xiaos-wife // @milkwithspiceyicecubes // @stygianoir // @francisnyx

@kaiserkisser // @multipleshadesofblue // @moloteco-real // @kithewanderingme // @scaramood

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brainddeadd · 5 months ago

Text

it is a fic, i just yap first - the fic starts under the cut

reader is a friend of the Greene's but isn't actually a Greene, they took her in

warnings: typical twd violence and angst, daryl angst, fluff

I have this thought that Daryl's not very experienced at anything romantic or sexual.

Like, his mum died before that became a thing for him, his dad was abusive, Merle was abusive. He never had a good role model for this shit.

He's probably only witnessed Merle in crappy bars, high as a fucken kite and drunk, for anything like this.

He's probably heard the stories of being hella rough, rough enough for it to sound like abuse to him - why would he wanna go through that? Or put someone else through that?

He's definitely never felt true, unconditional love (maybe from his mum). Everything always comes with a price for him.

And now he lives in a world where he can't trust anyone and everything is a threat. He's got his found family and that's it.

I genuinely don't think he'd know what to do with romantic feelings.

Sexual, sure. He knows he gets hard, and he's gotta get off. Knows that sometimes someone else can help. Probably fucked a few people and hated it. It was probably Merle getting him a hooker or something, and it was definitely a shit time.

Romantic? The fuck is that? He doesn't know how to do that. How to feel that. He knows what it looks like; Maggie and Glenn. He's not sure it's something he deserves.

So when he meets you, and you're loving him so easily, he has no idea what to do.

The word's gone to shit, everyone's dead and dying, everyone's fearful and sceptical of others, and here you are, welcoming him and his found family to the farm with open arms.

You help nurse Carl back to health after he was shot. Daryl knows Rick needed that from you.

You help look for Sophia, a girl you don't know, for a woman you don't know. You join Daryl on the search, exhausted but refusing to give up.

You help take care of him after Andrea shoots him - and you may have yelled at her a bit for being so stupid (which only makes you more attractive to Daryl).

You help Carol escape when she's cornered by walkers when they take over the farm. Ushering her to Daryl, yelling that you'll be fine, taking off in a separate car.

You ask him to teach you how to use a bow and arrows, knowing it'll come in handy. He does willingly.

You take the cell closest to him in the prison, claiming it's a coincidence, but the others know it’s because you feel safest with him.

You love the baby with your whole heart, he can tell. You cradle her gently, like she's something precious and you're afraid to break her. He almost wonders if you were a mother in the previous world.

You're distraught when he goes off with Merle. Carol tells him how you cried when you found out and the sadness that filled your eyes until he returned. He hates knowing he made you that sad, the he was the cause of your tears. But the light that returns to your eyes tells Carol and Maggie how happy you are.

You show him you love him without even meaning to. It's in the way you always bring him food when he's on watch. The way you are the first to offer to join him on a run. The way you stop the others from hassling him when he wants to be alone. The way you tend to any injuries he may acquire. He can feel your love long before he knows about it.

When you hug him for the first time, his whole world stops. He's just come back from a run, he's been gone longer than he was supposed to, scared the crap out of you and the others. You don't know he's back until you spot him from a distance, getting patched up and fed by Carol, unable to hide his exhaustion. You don't stop to think, not even sure you can think. Your legs have carried you to him and your arms are around him before you can process the movements. Daryl's tense, body having gone stiff at the unexpected contact.

Flushing bright red, you move to let go of him, to hide away for eternity, but he's arms are around you, crushing you to his chest, holding you tightly, face sinking into your neck and his body relaxes. The two of you stay like that for ages, just holding each other closely.

Carol disappears, leaving you to your moment, and you hold him to your body with a hand on the back of his head. He knows then that this feeling in his chest, the one that makes him seek you out just because, is love.

#daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead x reader #° braindead writes #twd x reader #daryl x reader #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead smut #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x y/n #the walking dead x y/n #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon imagines #daryl dixon headcanon #daryl dixon scenarios

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murdrdocs · 2 years ago

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RIDING DAVE LIZEWSKI'S THIGH!!!!!! 😧

okay so listen listen ; SMUT 16+

riding dave's thigh can go a couple of ways me thinks.

the first, it's to put on a show for him. in these moments, you're perched on his lap, trying to kiss, grind, and massage away his stress and the tension in his body. he's a fucking superhero without any powers, of course he's always stressed and sore and bruised. and there's not much you can do on your front. you know trying to convince him to give it up is fruitless, and you can't go out there and fight off crime. so you play the role of the doting girlfriend; there in the middle of the night to patch up injuries and kiss it better. tonight, luckily, you're doing more of the latter than the former. he's come in stressed, nothing but a few scrapes and bruises decorating his pretty face, but he's already changed out of the kick-ass suit and now he's just dave. your sweet dave who is holding onto your hips for dear life as you kiss him until he's dizzy and his glasses are skewed.

"tell me about your day," you're telling him, rubbing your lips together which makes dave aware of the sheer amount of lip gloss that he has on his lips now.

he tries to do as he's asked, but you've started to straddle one of his thighs and he watches you lower yourself. he starts from when he'd first talked to you this morning, and you're nodding your head, little "uh-huh"s leaving your lips in affirmation. but those noises of affirmation go from letting him know that you're listening, to letting him know how much pleasure you're feeling.

you're pushing your hips back and forth, letting the friction from your flimsy shorts and dave's jeans please you. your eyes screw shut, your head lolls back, but you're still saying, "uh-huh" and "yes". the noises are driving him crazy, a prominent pitch forming at his crotch. your hands are on his shoulders, pushing into the muscles, relieving them of their tension little by little. but its like with every push, dave's muscles relax, then tense tenfold. he can't relax when his pretty girlfriend is riding his thigh, listening to him rant about his suddenly-unimportant day while she gets off in front of him, evidently putting on a show.

whenever you push your shorts to the side, letting dave know that you weren't wearing any underwear, he flips you over and pushes his fingers inside instead, giving up on the whole run down on his day.

the second, is to deprive him of what he wants. similarly to the first, you're putting on a show. but you both knew that the ending would be slightly different. dave's been pissing you off; snarky remarks, avoiding you, treating you like you weren't that important. which, sure, you understood that he has other important things to do. but you're not asking to be treated like the fucking queen of england. you just want some basic respect that he was more than capable of giving you last week.

so when he comes into your bedroom late at night, beaten and bruised, on the verge of tears, you try to ignore the way your heart strings tug. "baby, i'm sorry, please, i just need your help."

you're upset, but you're not a sociopath. so you take him to your bathroom and clean him up, but when his hands try to reach for your skin, you're flinching away, or swatting his hand off. but if dave lizewski is anything, he's persistent. so he keeps doing it until you end up in his lap.

but you're not looking at him. you're looking at the cut on his forehead, at the cut at the corner of his lip, at the bruise that's forming on his eye and at his jaw.

"look at me. please," he's trying, his thumbs rubbing what he thinks is soothing circles at the exposed skin of your thighs. you're not caving though. even whenever he says, "let me kiss it better? let me fuck it better?" and maybe that would've worked when you weren't pissed at your boyfriend. maybe. but now all it does is rile you up.

"i don't need you to get off, dave." you spit his name out, reaching over to throw out the cotton balls that you'd just used. when you come back to face him, he has a slightly condescending smile on his face.

"sure, but you know it feels better when i do it."

he might be right, but you're not one to back down from a fight. you're not gonna let him win this sort of argument. so you situate to straddle one thigh, stare into his blue eyes, and watch as you start to slowly drag your hips along his quad, exaggerating your moans just to get a reaction out of him.

#davesworld!#dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski smut #dave lizewski x you #dave lizewski #celeste writes misc

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xxchumanixx · 5 months ago

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Lilies and conspiracies pt. 1

Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Lilies and Conspiracies pt. 1 - Reputation and Decorum

Warnings/Tags: fluff, a bit angst, historical gender roles, nothing more yet, really

Word Count: 3.172

Authors Note: Hello loves! Here it is: My first series! I have to say that I'm a tad bit nervous, considering my lack of motivation to write sometimes... Anyways, let me know what you think! Lots of love!

Series Masterlist -> pt. 2

As always: Enjoy!

Dear reader,

it has come to my notice that a certain young Miss and her brother have recently returned from their rather long stay in France, looking for love in this season. It is said that she has grown into a beautiful young woman, whilst her brother has become a handsome gentleman.

At least that is what this author has been told.

We yet have to examine this young Miss and her brother, but this author is certain that they will make a certain appereance at the second ball this season at the Trowbridge house.

One can only hope that Viscount Bridgerton will not scrutinize her with that checklist of his - the poor one.

One can only hope he will find a wife at all.

- Lady Whistledown's Society Papers, London, April 1814

It was the second ball of your season as a debutante, having only returned from your stay at France a while ago. You had yet to meet some of the Lords and Ladies, yet you could already tell a lot of them were different than you.

You had been standing at the edge of the ballroom, dancing people and burning candles all around you, the smell of perfume and candle wax heavy in the air.

You had noticed how Viscount Anthony Bridgerton stood at the edge of the ballroom as well, grumbling to himself. It hadn't slipped your notice the way he was looking for a wife, his list of potential names at hand.

Yet he seemed rather displeased.

"This is absolute nonsense." Anthony grumbled to himself after yet another girl failed to fulfill his requests and expectations, unable to meet these high standards, the paper in his hand wrinkled already.

That godforsaken list his mother had made.

He wasn't looking for love, no, not after he'd witnessed what love can do, the pain it brought; that simply wasn't in the cards for him. "How is it possible that one cannot find a proper lady in a room full of them?" he added, brows furrowing in bewilderment.

You had heard him, cocking a brow, as you moved towards him. "Trouble, Lord Bridgerton?" you asked, coming to a halt beside him with your hands clasped in front of you.

You had known the Viscount for most of your life, your brother having spend his college years with him, but when you returned from France, he seemed to have become someone else.

Anthony flinched, having been pulled from his reverie, and he raised his head to see you. He paused for a moment, his eyes scanning you once before straightening his posture. "Yes, quite." he responded with an annoyed roll of his eyes. "A whole ballroom full of debutantes, and there isn’t a single respectable one in the bunch."

"Ouch." you said playfully, putting a hand above your heart.

Anthony's eyes flickered over you, looking you up and down again. There was something about your sarcastic comment that had intrigued him. He watched as you placed a hand against your chest in feigned hurt and his lips tugged upward in a near smirk. "Well, it’s not as though I’ve been shy about what it is I’m expecting from a wife." he replied, his voice laced with dry amusement.

Your brows twitched. "Well, the whole ton has its own opinions about that." Lady Whistledown had certainly made sure to pick up on everything the Viscount had said about his search for a suitable wife.

Anthony chuckled at that, a half smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Yes, it’s rather fascinating exactly what gossip the ton can spread, without having their nose in the midst of my affairs." he said. "And it’s not as though I haven’t been clear enough in what I’m looking for, that I’m not looking for love." he added with a sigh, his eyes looking over you again.

You chuckled to yourself. "Well, most matches made here are not out of love." you pointed out.

Anthony’s smirk tugged ever so slightly at the corner of his mouth at your response "It’s true, most marriages in the ton are not out of love. Perhaps I should be surprised at my difficulty with finding a match. Most of these ladies are far too young and naive and silly to even understand much of love." he said, his eyes still focused on you, watching intently every move you made.

He couldn't shake the feeling that you had changed during your stay in France, having become a grown-up woman rather than the young and naive little girl he remembered you to be.

You chuckled again. "They are like ducklings thrown into a pond." you said. "They didn't learn how to swim yet, still they are forced to."

Anthony hummed in agreement, his smirk growing into a full blown smile as he nodded his head. "Exactly that. Their mothers think that because they’re of age, they’ll suddenly find husbands to take care of them. And they’re all the same: sheltered and naive and foolish." he declared. "The women in this room barely know the difference between love and lust."

You huffed. "Well, how are they expected to be, if they don't know the concept of either?" you asked, fully aware that most young girls knew much less than you did, before they were wed off to some wealthy men.

Anthony sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You’re right, they don’t know any better. Their mothers have done them a disservice by keeping them from understanding what their purpose is." he said with a shake of his head. "It’s all so silly. Marriage is about duty and family, not love."

You smiled a small smile at that. "Love can still find a place."

Anthony’s expression softened as he raised a brow, a scoff leaving his mouth. "I used to believe that, until I realized it was a myth." he said. "All love does is create chaos and heartbreak. It’s easier to focus on duty and family rather than risk the mess that love can bring." His voice was firm, but there was a note of something like sorrow in it.

Your gaze softened as you tilted your head in silent understanding. "It can be rather ironic, can it not?" you asked.

Anthony looked at you for a moment, taking in the softening of your gaze and the tilt of your head. He could see the understanding in your eyes, and he couldn't help but be slightly impressed by it. "How is it ironic?" he questioned, his expression becoming guarded as he braced himself to hear your response.

"Love is said to be the greatest feeling of all." you explained. "Yet it can lead to the worst of all, too."

Anthony’s gaze remained fixed on you as you spoke, his expression becoming thoughtful. He nodded his head in agreement, a small sigh leaving his lips. "Yes, love is said to be the greatest feeling. But you’re right, it can also lead to the worst pain and heartbreak." he mused as he looked out to the ballroom, watching the couples dancing as if they were perfectly happy and in love. "Is it worth the risk, though?" he added quietly, more to himself than to you.

"It can be." you spoke softly. "If one is brave enough to take it."

Anthony looked back at you, a look of contemplation crossing his features as he listened to your words. He chuckled softly, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer. "You speak as though you’ve experienced it." he said with a slight tilt of his head, his tone laced with curiosity.

You smiled softly. "No, not yet." you said. "But my parents were deeply in love."

Anthony’s mouth twitched, somewhat surprised by your response. He was used to a lot of the ladies in the ton declaring how they hoped to fall in love and be loved by their partner in return, but it was rather refreshing to hear someone say they hadn’t yet experienced it.

It further fueled his theory.

He was also somewhat caught off guard by your mention of your parents being in love. It was rare to hear of a love match in the ton, and he couldn’t help but wonder about that. "You come from a love match?" he asked curiously, though something in the back of his head told him you were right. He remembered your parents distantly, remembering how deeply they cared for each other.

You smiled. "Yes." you responded, smile faltering slightly. "My parents were smitten the moment they shared their first dance. But when my mother died, my father's heart was forever broken."

Anthony’s expression softened, a pang of sympathy tugging at his heart, as he remembered. He could tell there was a hint of sadness in your expression as you told him of your parents’ love and your mother’s death and your father’s heartbreak that resulted from it. He knew the pain of losing a loved one all too well himself. He was silent for a moment, considering his response before speaking again. "I’m sorry for your loss." he said quietly, his voice gentler than before.

"Thank you." you said. "It's been six years now, but my father said he wouldn't do it differently, even if he knew how it ended."

Anthony listened intently as you spoke of your father’s love for your mother, even after six years since her death. He couldn't help but be somewhat envious of your parents’ love match. He had never experienced that kind of love, but he had seen the effects of it after his father’s death. He was struck by the strength in your father’s words, the conviction that he wouldn’t change his love for your mother, no matter the outcome. "That’s true love, isn’t it?" he murmured softly, surprising himself with his question, as he was the first to declare not to believe in love as something good.

You nodded. "It is. And it's even rarer than a compliment from the queen herself." you spoke jokingly, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

Anthony chuckled softly at your response, a hint of amusement in his eyes. He found himself strangely drawn to your wit and your understanding in this conversation. He hadn’t expected to find such an engaging companion at this dull event. He couldn’t help but raise a brow at your remark, a teasing glint in his eye.

"Is that supposed to be a high form of praise?" he asked, a hint of a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You snorted, covering your mouth with your hand, stifling your laughter. You hadn't expected the question, being caught off guard by it.

Anthony’s smirk grew into a grin at your snort of laughter, the sound of your amusement sending a spark of something warm through him. He found himself slightly amused and even impressed by your unabashed laughter, a stark contrast to the fake giggles and smiles of most of the debutantes in the room. He couldn’t help but tease you further, his eyes still glinting with playful amusement. "I take it that’s a no, then?" he questioned, his voice laced with mirth.

Your eyes widened, shoulders shaking from the stifled laughter. "Stop it!" you scolded him playfully, still laughing to yourself.

Anthony chuckled heartily, the sound of your laughter only making his own amusement grow. He couldn’t remember the last time he had had such a lighthearted and playful conversation with a member of the ton. It was refreshing and strangely exhilarating.

He raised his hands in a gesture of innocence, though his eyes sparkled with mischief. "Stop what?" he asked, his voice laced with feigned innocence, his grin widening as he realized he loved seeing you laugh like this.

Strange.

You shook your head, trying to stop laughing, biting your cheek, before taking a deep breath. "Don't-" you were interrupted by another snort of laughter. You turned away from him for a brief moment, calming yourself with a hand pressed over your chest. When you turned back around, you had tears in your eyes from laughing. "You know exactly what I mean, my lord." you said breathlessly.

You hadn't expected your evening to go like this, yet you enjoyed every second of it.

Anthony’s grin widened further as he watched you struggle to contain your laughter, his own eyes glinting with amusement. He found it utterly adorable that he could reduce you to a fit of laughter so easily. As you turned back around, your eyes still shining with tears from laughing so hard, he couldn’t help but smirk. "Oh, do I?" he teased, his voice laced with mock surprise.

He knew exactly what he was doing, and he was enjoying every moment of it.

You shook your head, taking a deep breath. "Oh my, some would consider me unheard for laughing so much."

Anthony chuckled, his smirk softening into a small smile. He couldn’t help but find your carefree attitude and infectious laughter refreshing. Most of the ladies he encountered in the ton were all too poised and proper, always concerned with their reputation and decorum. But here you were, laughing without a care in the world.

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of humor in his eyes. "Would they, now?" he questioned, his voice still laced with amusement.

You wanted to respond something, when another lord stopped in front of you. "Miss Barton, would you give me the honor to have this next dance with you?" he asked, curtsying. You curtsied in return, sending him a fake smile. "Of course, Lord Pendale."

You shot Anthony an apologetic look, as the lord walked you to the dance floor.

Anthony watched with irritation as Lord Pendale approached you and requested a dance. He had been thoroughly enjoying your lighthearted conversation and infectious laughter, and the interruption by this newcomer was unwelcome. He clenched his jaw, trying to quell the envious feeling that bubbled within him as he watched you walk away with the other lord.

Strange, indeed.

Yet, despite his irritation, he couldn’t help but notice your apologetic look as you glanced back at him. He simply nodded slightly in acknowledgment; his expression guarded as he watched you take your place on the dance floor.

You danced with Lord Pendale, making smalltalk with him, but you couldn't help but notice how simple-minded and bland he was compared to Lord Bridgerton.

Not to mention the way he used to talk down on women.

Anthony took the opportunity to observe you from afar as you danced with Lord Pendale, his eyes fixed onto you. He couldn’t help but compare the interaction with the other lord to the conversation he’d had with you. He could see your polite smile and practiced small talk, but he could also see how bored you were, too. It was easy to spot the lack of depth in Lord Pendale’s conversation and the simplicity of his personality.

He couldn’t help but feel a mix of satisfaction and disappointment as he watched you dance with someone so lacking in comparison to himself.

When the dance was over, you curtsied to Lord Pendale, before your gaze filtered the crowd for Anthony. Before you could walk over to him, though, your brother stepped beside you.

"We're leaving." Max said. "Why?" you wanted to know. "It's still early." He nodded. "Father wants to go home. Come." Without further ado, he walked you out of the ballroom, not giving you any time to find Anthony again, before you drove home in your carriage.

Anthony watched as you curtsied to Lord Pendale, but before he could even begin to consider finding an excuse to approach you, he saw your brother appear beside you and then take you away from the ball. He was left feeling dissatisfied and frustrated, his gaze lingering on the spot where you had stood moments earlier.

Without you, the ball seemed to lose its appeal and now he was forced to continue mingling with the other dull and boring party guests again.

You bit your lip, looking out of the carriage window, even though you didn't see much in the darkness.

"Did you talk to Lord Bridgerton earlier?" your brother wanted to know. You looked over at him, sighing. "Yes, why?" He shook his head. "They call him a rake." he said. "That means he's not worthy of you." You shook your head, but didn't say anything. He wouldn't get to decide who you talked to or not.

When you arrived home, you made your way into your chambers, telling your maid to dress you for the night. Even though it was still early, you were somehow exhausted, yet energized at the same time.

Your encounter with Anthony had brightened your evening, something you wouldn't have considered before, when you were still young. He was always so out of reach, especially after his father died and he became colder, building a wall around himself.

Meanwhile Anthony sat in his office, a drink in hand as he replayed the events of the night in his mind; having left shortly after you.

He couldn't get the image of you out of his head, how you had talked about love and your parents' love match, how you had laughed at his teasing, how you had looked while dancing with another and then been whisked away.

He had expected to attend the ball and see the usual ton ladies, but you had stood out to him in a way no other had before.

You were lying in your bed, thinking about the conversation with Lord Bridgerton. You couldn't sleep, at least not until a few hours into the night.

It was strange how he managed to burn himself into your brain so fast, like ivy that slowly grew rampant.

Anthony was also restless, unable to sleep. He tossed and turned in his bed, his thoughts consumed by you. He couldn't understand why you had stayed on his mind so heavily.

He had talked to dozens of ladies in his time, why would you be different?

But no matter how much he tried to push away the thoughts of you, your laughter and your words replayed in his mind over and over.

Finally, in the early hours of the morning, Anthony gave up on trying to sleep. He threw off the covers and got out of bed, dressing in a simple shirt and trousers before heading out of his bedroom.

He walked through the empty halls of Bridgerton House, his thoughts still consumed by you. He wanted to see you again. But it was so early in the morning, and he couldn't simply show up at your house. He was restless, frustrated and yearning for your company yet he didn't know how to get it.

Or why he yearned for it in the first place.

You had managed to catch a few hours of sleep, but you woke early, lying restless in bed again. You tossed and turned, unable to stop thinking about Anthony.

Him and your brother went to school together, university, he never seemed to be someone to pique your interest. Yet he had managed to, with only one simple conversation.

He truly must have changed during the time you had spent in France, after your mother passed. He seemed more grown-up than you had remembered him, but then it were almost six years you hadn’t seen him.

Anthony soon couldn't stand it anymore.

The night had passed and now, as the sun rose and the rest of London slowly began to wake, he made an impulsive decision. He dressed in his finest clothes before getting in the carriage and giving the driver a destination: your house.

He had no plan, no idea what he would say, but all he knew was that he had to see you again.

#anthony bridgerton x you #bridgerton masterlist #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x female reader #anthony bridgerton x u #series #netflix #netflix bridgerton

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dre6ming · 7 months ago

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Kiss it better

Part of “The delicate beginning rush” (click for the whole series) can be read in it’s own

Pairing: Austin Butler x fem reader

Warning: hard language, curses, aggression, mentions of blood, assault

Plot: while visiting Austin on set of the bike rides something not so great happens, that has Austin pull out his protective side

Word count: 1.8k

Masterlist

Tag list

A/n: this was a request so if you have some more feel free to send them to me

"Do you know how much I love you?" Austin asks, kissing my cheek, the facial hair he had to grow for the role making me giggle with the way it tickles my soft skin. "I think in might have and idea about it." I say, turning my head slightly and catching his lips in a warm kiss, tasting his breath on my tongue. My heart beats so fast I can almost hear it in my ears, as he adjusts his hand, to hold my lower back better making sure I don't fall off the bike. He's filming for the movie Bike riders and I'm just passing through, visiting for the month, which has been great since we often get to fool around the set in between filming.

"I think I might go to your trailer and get some sleep, I'm kinda tired." I tell him, brushing my hands through his hair, pulling slightly at the root, making him groan. "Ok, want me to walk you?" Austin helps me get off the bike safely. "You think they'll let you keep it after you're done?" I ask referring to his bike, praying for a 'yes' "Probably not." He shakes his head and I pout, truly disappointed. "That's too bad, maybe I'll buy you one for your birthday!" I say absentmindedly, walking my hand over the handle of the bike. Austin chuckles, pulling me in a tight hug. "Ok sugar mama, if that's what you want to waste your pension on." He jokes shrugging his shoulders, making me laugh with my head thrown back. "Well baby, if you behave." His lips catch mine and I sigh into the kiss, biting his bottom lip, smiling when I hear him groan.

"Ok I'm going now, you need to get back to work." I say, patting his chest. Austin opens his mouth to say something, but doesn't get to as he gets called back to set and I giggle at his frustration, going past him. I wink at him and get to walking to his trailer, already dreaming of the soft bed enveloping me whole. On my way, a dude I've never seen before, waves my way, nodding his head at me, a strange grin on. I can't lie, but I usually don't pay mind to such behavior, but somehow this interaction makes shivers climb up my spine and the hair to on the back of my neck to rise.

"Hi gorgeous!" He approaches me and I try to act like I don't see him, taking a few steps to my right hoping he'd get the note and leave me alone. "Hey!" He whistles at me trying to get my attention. "You deaf or somethin girl?" He asks lifer coming my way. "I'm just not interested, ok can you leave me be?" I ask hoping he'll give up. "So what maybe I can change your mind, huh?" He says, coming my way aggressively. I feel my bones shake with fear and I try to move away from him, while trying to remember everything I learned in self defense class, but all that seems to be useless now. "I don't know you ok?" I say, picking up my pace, not running just yet, thinking if I should turn back where I came from.

While I'm in my head sweating my decision, the guy catches my wrist in his hand and pulls me towards him. I wince at the way his grip on my wrist twists my joint and shoots pain up my arm. "Let me go!" I try to rip my arm out of his hold but, he's to strong. "Oh come on baby, just a kiss, maybe I'll grab a boob or two, they look gorgeous" my free hand goes to cover my chest and I look frantically around to see if there's anyone that can help me, but there isn't. Panic is high in me and the smirk the guy has on his face, makes my blood turn to ice in my veins. "Help, someone help me!" I shout as loud as I can, before he slaps me across the face. The hit takes me off balance and in doing so, he brings me flush to him, putting his hand over my mouth and the other around my waist. With my hands free I start to hit him anywhere I can, but he's big so he doesn't even budge. "You cunt! Stop fucking hitting me!" He growls at me, his spit hitting my cheek.

I can't see anything, tears are flowing down my face and I'm struggling to breathe with his hand on my mouth. I can see all the ways this might go and I'm terrified. Suddenly I'm roughly shaken and he lets go of me, so I fall to the ground, my legs numb. "Shh , hey it's fine!" I hear a muffled voice say and I feel hands on my arms trying to grab at me, I scream and push away, closing my eyes, bringing my knees to my chest and crying. I hear a bunch of commotion around me, but I'm scared to move, so I just sit there, formed into a ball.

I feel a set of arms wrap around me and I flinch away. "Shh baby, Y/n it's me, it's Austin." I hear softly and I lunch at him, throwing my arms around his neck, burying my face in the crook of his neck. "I swear to you I want to kill that motherfucker, I hope my fist fucking stays on his face for the rest of his scum bag life." He sounds so angry, but his touch is so warm and comforting. "I I I'm sssorry" I stammer from crying, nuzzling my face in his chest. "Don't you dare apologize. Come on baby, I'll lift you up." Austin says, hooking one arm under my legs and the other on my back. He lifts me up like I weigh nothing, kissing the top of my head.

I hear the door to his trailer open and soon enough I feel the fluffy bed under me. His hands push the hair out of my face and he uses his thumbs to wipe my tears away. "I knew I should've walked with you." He says more, to himself p, giving me a good look over, anger intensifying on his face as he notices my red wrist and probably swollen cheek. "I should go back there and give that guy more punches to take home." I shake my head and take his hands off my face, rubbing his knuckles, frowning when I see the cuts and bruises on his hands. "Aus what did you do?" I ask my voice barely a whisper.

"Some guy from sound said he heard some girl scream for help, my mind when directly to you, I hate that I was right. I ran and when I saw him grabbing at you, I ripped him off of you, got him to the ground and punched as hard as I could, I hope I broke something, maybe his nose" he takes his hands back and goes to the sink to wet a small wash cloth, bringing it over and wiping my face. "I'll change and then we can go back to the apartment ok? They gave me two days off." He says, placing another kiss on my forehead, then quickly undressing, putting the clothes in a bag and getting into his own. It only takes him a minute or two, but it feels like an eternity and I'm so happy, when he gets on the bed and pull me on top of him, arms tight around me. "I'm so sorry honey, are you ok?" Austin asks again

"Yes, I'm fine, just a little shaken up." I say, grimacing when I speak since it hurts from all the screaming. "I think we should go by the medic, your cheek is pretty red and your wrist is bruising" he speaks softly, massaging my back. "I'm fine." I push hoping he'd drop if. "How's your hand, does it hurt?" I ask and push myself off of him, getting up from the bed and going to my bag to pick my balm for cuts and bruises. I take the wet towel and motion him to come sit at the edge of the bed with me. "Give me your hand." But he's stubborn. "I should be taking care of you, I'm fine." He argues, making me roll my eyes. "Aus, your knuckles are bleeding, please!" I plead with him and he finally gives in. While I work on his hands his lips kiss my face over and over again, making my skin feel warm and tingly.

"I think if there's anyone that can kiss it better it's you." I admit, smiling, while I carefully apply cream to his bruised knuckles. He doesn't even flinch but I know they must be hurting. "Are you really ok? Please Y/n tell me, I promise not to go break his neck." Austin's nostrils flare up as his anger flashes back to him, and I sigh. "I'm not fine, I was so scared, I took all those self defense classes and I couldn't do anything." I feel tears in my eyes again and he places a finger under my chin, forcing me to look at him. "Come here, my darling love, I'm sorry you had to go through this, I'm here!" He assures me, pulling me into a breath taking hug.

I breathe in his scent, feeling my muscles relax, the warmth his body provides being exactly what I needed. "Let's go home and get you a warm bath, hm? And then we'll stuff ourselves full of chocolate and ice cream, while watching Twilight!" I giggle at the plans he has made for the night. "I would love that!" I reply truthfully, leaning my head back and pulling him in for a kiss. Austin's lips are warm and soft and sweet, almost too familiar in taste. "Did you use my lip balm?" I ask licking my lips and looking at him, chuckling when he blushes. "Just a bit, maybe, no.." he defends himself, bringing me back for another kiss, one of his hands holding my chin. "Liar!" I say, before his lips crash onto mine. He giggles into the kiss, and his tongue, licks my bottom lip asking for permission, which I give delighted. Austin's tongue explores my mouth and his hands keep me close to his chest, so close I can feel his heart pounding. "I love you!" I say between shallow breaths. "You're my everything!" He admits looking into my eyes and I melt into the blue of his irises.

Tags: @galaxygirl453

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#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler fic #the delicate beginning rush #austin butler fanfiction #austin #austin butler fans #austin butler love #austin butler instagram #austin butler imagine #austin butler fanfic #austin fanfic #austin butler fandom #austin butler x actress reader #austin butler x fem!reader #Austin butlers bike #Austin butler bike

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kairiscorner · 1 year ago

Text

the poll has spoken.

miggy and his feelings for you. (when he catches you smiling because of someone else)

summary: what's the next step after telling someone you like them? usually, stuff like that ends in rejection–but... you didn't reject miguel when he finally expressed how he felt for you. what's next after this? he can only handle his need to love you and declare that you're his and he's yours so much before he... before he breaks.

pairing: miguel o'hara x gn!reader

genre: a bit of angst and fluff 🫂🫂🫂

word count:

a/n: i'm writing this on the date of my blog's second monthsary, HEHE, this is kind of a belated monthsary gift (or early third monthsary gift~~~) for my miguel babes out there, y'all know who you are 🤩 anyway, hope you guys enjoy !!

the rapid palpitations of his heartbeat could still be felt in every fiber of his bones, of his muscles, as he reminisced that moment when he mustered up all the courage he had and breathed out those three, four words he's been dying to utter to you, for you to hear, listen, and sink in your heart as he tells you in such a soft, sentimental tone that he can't help but let out.

"estoy enamorado de ti."

"i'm in love with you, i love you."

he has never been able to recover from the shocks and tingles sent up his spine and tickling the back of his brain every time silence settles in and consumes him. the silence is a perfect, beautiful torment for miguel; because it is the silence that reminds him of how you held him dearly, teased him for his "dramatic", "extra" showcases of affection towards you, and that he remembers every bit of how he feels around you, the love of his life. you've always seen him as a very close friend–like an annoying, overprotective brother at times in the past–but those feelings have thus shifted; and is miguel ever so grateful for that happening.

he's been so scared and lost–like a child who's afraid of the dark wandering in a pitch black room, calling out for help–he was always unsure of what to do with these secret feelings he harbored for you. he thought it'd be better to bury them, to never let you know and take that secret of his to the grave; but he knew he would forever regret that. sometimes, wanting to love and wanting to protect the one you love are two very conflicting ideas–thet don't always end in mutual agreements. and ever since you declared that you reciprocated his feelings and loved him back through your actions and words... he has never felt an even greater need to love and protect you.

miguel's got a new role in your life now, to be the man who will protect and take care of you, ensure you don't go a single day without feeling loved, that you live every day, every hour of your life being as you are–happy and comfortable with yourself, hopefully with the addition of him in the picture. miguel trusts you among everyone else in his whole life–you are the only friend he has that's stuck with him this whole time and still puts up with him, despite his hard-headedness, and does the unthinkable: love him the same way he loves you. he couldn't ask for any more, really, when everything he's ever wanted in life had been granted in the brief moment you two shared when he swore to you he'd work on being such a pain in the ass for you and not be a selfish prick.

he's spent every waking hour searching for you, wanting to hold you close to him in private and smother you with all the love and affection in the multiverse. you have to understand, now, that miguel has never felt this compelled to be with anyone before in his entire life–this is his first time wanting someone with such devotion and affection behind that desire, it's a desire with depth, with genuine emotions; and it sometimes terrifies him. he doesn't know what to do with these feelings, save for acting accordingly to what they compel him to do, so long as it is within bounds of what you want and what you're okay with. however, there are times that those feelings of his get... a bit out of hand, may come off as a bit too strong. there are some things that his feelings compel him to do without him even being able to think of the consequences until it already happened and the damages have already been done.

he feels his heart get pierced by a sharp dagger, he feels like he's getting light-headed as he watches from the monitor on his screen that beautiful, all-too familiar face that he never wants to wake up without seeing as the first person to greet him in the morning, giggle and look so close in proximity with this... random person. miguel swears he's never seen this person before, this person's not a friend of yours he knows about, nor a relative, he can tell that much–they're someone he doesn't know about; a total enigma.

and that scares miguel, because he has no idea just how happy this person makes you.

he feels a twinge of venomous envy strike at his heart, and he feels his pulse quicken a bit when he witnesses the corners of your pretty lips curve up into a smile after that person told you a funny joke, said a nice thing to you today, or... maybe... no way, you wouldn't fall for their flirting, would you? miguel asks lyla to run a background check on the person close to you, and lyla reassures miguel after doing so that this person wouldn't harm you–they were just a 'really close friend of yours'.

"and you're positively certain about that?" miguel asked her as his eyes remained glued on your delightful figure, smiling all the while as this person continued to make you all happy and a little brighter than you seemed before. he hated it. he hated it because some random person was doing his job for him, to make you the happiest you've ever been–but who was he to pry you away from your friends? he loved you and trusted your friends, that he knew of–but this person, he has no idea of who he is–and this frightens him because... he might actually lose you to them, he thinks.

"miguel, i've never heard you use those two words together in one sentence before. you're anxious about something, aren't you?" lyla asks miguel with a curious look on her face, prompting miguel to bare his fangs as he furrowed his eyebrows together and glared at the AI assistant. "just answer me." "alright, grouchy, yes–yes, i'm positively certain this person has no intention of hurting them." lyla replied as miguel placed his palm on his face and rubbed his eyes clean of the frustration he was experiencing right then and there, only for it to return on his face with a scorching heat filling his frame the longer he thought about you smiling around this person.

miguel turned the monitors off and decided to distract himself with some missions, though you never left that spot in his mind and heart once as he fought anomalies and tracked the statuses of other universes. his other teammates believed he was acting pretty strangely whenever he'd go out and fight the anomalies; he'd act more brutal and less cautious than he usually would, bringing the anomaly to the brink of death at one point until peter b and jess had to intervene and contained the anomaly for him.

miguel had to sit the next mission out, and so, he was holed up in his office again, begrudgingly so. "either you tell us what's going on, or you're not coming on anymore missions." "no, that's stupid, i will be going on the next o–" "you're posing as a threat to the anomalies, a lethal one, and that's not like you." jess berated miguel like a mother chiding her son for having a temper tantrum. miguel sighed and leaned his head against his hand, his elbow propped up on the control panel to support his head. jess sighed and peter b entered the room once things cooled down. "hey, so... what's his deal?" "no clue." jess replied to peter b with a shrug as miguel slumped over on his desk, sighing to himself repeatedly as thoughts of you refused to leave his mind.

you were like an endless memory miguel wanted to relive forever, and he never wanted you to leave his mind, actually–but he knew he'd go crazy without properly talking to you about this, but the thought of that alone was killing him right now. he felt so helpless and pathetic, he couldn't even talk to the love of his life about what he was so afraid of... and now, the others had to pick up after his scattered, broken pieces. "what if we have them talk to him?" "with him being in this state? yeah, no, not the best idea." "c'moooon, they're the end all, be all solution to his little slump. i know, because mj is–" "alright, alright, i get it; save your hopeless devotion for mary jane later. call them up now, we need to go on the mission, parker." jess told peter as he smiled and contacted you to come over to miguel's office right then and there, with the very important reminder that miguel was: 'in a terrible slump and needs some love and affection to be cured.'

after a few minutes, miguel heard the doors to his office slide open, and the clacking of a couple of familiar heels were heard; before you could even speak, miguel immediately knew it was you. call it creepy or weird if you want, but miguel can't help but memorize every detail of you, because it's the mere thought of you that keeps him going–but the thought of you... leaving him, that's enough to stop him from even wanting to go on. miguel spoke out your name in a gentle whisper, but afterward, he immediately shied away from you–hiding his face in his hands again as you approached him.

"mig, what's wrong?" you asked him, and the sound of your melodic voice filling his ears made him go mad with affection for you but also ridden with guilt all over again as he remembered just how angry he was at that person making you smile and... at you, for being happy with someone who wasn't even him. of course, that anger towards you fizzled out quickly, but he can't help but feel awful that he can't be fine with letting you be happy with someone who isn't even him. "...nothing's wrong." he lied in a soft grumble. you folded your arms over your chest and raised an eyebrow up at him. "right, well, you looking like a sad, droopy-eared dog while hunching your back and burying your face in your palms when i'm not looking is the definition of something being wrong." you pointed out, making miguel bury his face in his hands even more at how right you were. "what are you even doing here?" "peter called me." "that pendejo... well, why'd you agree to come anyway?" he asked you as he turned to look at you with softened eyes, eyes that appeared to be on the brink of sobbing.

you pulled up a chair and sat close to miguel, so close that your knees were touching his own–making him look up at you in surprise. "because you've been avoiding me all week." you remind him, and that very fact made miguel tense up. he gradually turned his head to look at you with an evidently pensive look on his face, which was rare for him since he didn't really show much emotion... except to you, his beloved partner. being his partner gave you the privilege to see all sides of him–the good and bad sides–whether he likes to or not; and having been together with miguel for a while and being his friend for the longest time, you could tell something was wrong. "i'm... sorry, i'm just..." miguel muttered under his breath with a sigh as he rubbed his eyes again with his hand. you gently took his other hand in your own and interlocked hands with him, making him jolt up and turn to look at you in surprise.

you sighed and ran the pad of your thumb over the back of his big hand, thinking of what to tell him as you just held on to him closer and tighter. "is it about my friend?" you asked him softly as miguel tensed up even worse again. miguel's lower lip trembled and he took in a deep breath. "...n-no, why would... well, o-okay, yes, it is. h-how'd you..." "you were always the jealous type, mig." you tell him with a grin as miguel looked down in shame, but you placed your other hand on the side of his face and lifted his head up a bit to look at him. "but, i know you're not like this to hurt them or me. you love me, right? well... i definitely love you, too, unconditionally." you tell him in a whisper as you bring your face closer to his own shy one. you could see the signs that he was getting more and more flustered and embarrassed. "mi vida, i... don't deserve you. who wants such a jealous, overbearing, overprotective guy as their lover? i-if i can't trust them with you, then... can i even trust myself to make you happy?" miguel rambled as he felt his breath getting ragged and his grip around your hand tighten.

you leaned over and kissed miguel's plush lips, effectively answering his question. "yes, miguel–you are trustworthy, you are worthy of having me." you reassured him. you pressed your lips against his again, making him moan gently through your kiss and mumbling your name. "cariño... i'm sorry, still... i'm just... just really jealous, and i... wanna make you the happiest person in the world." he muttered to you, sighing. you wrapped your arms around his neck and held him close, patting his shoulder and shushing him. "you already do though... miggy, i want nobody but you, you and your sweet, jealous ass." you plant a kiss on the top of his head as you said that, making him even more heated up in the face and shy. "i can assure you, nothing bad's going on between us–they told me a few funny jokes that made me grin, but... i smile even wider when you're being all adorable like this with me. they're just a friend, and you're... the love of my life." you told him with a smile as miguel looked up at you, his hazel brown eyes gazing up at your own and concentrating on your pretty orbs.

"it's okay to be jealous, but... know that in every universe, i'll choose you and only you as my lover. you're perfect, miggy, you're all i want and need." and the minute you tell him all that... he feels his world slowly come together again, and his mood instantly lifting. he gently wrapped his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him, making him lowly sigh in relief. "and you already know i want and need you the most... no soporto estar sin ti amor... i can't live another day not being with you..." he murmured to you as an oath, an oath to not hurt you ever again, to not let his emotions overwhelm him and make you feel forgotten or guilty over something you didn't do, and... an oath to you that he loves you more than anything or anyone he's ever loved before.

he can't stop being jealous on instinct, he'll sometimes get insecure and anxious about himself, but... he loves you, that much, he knows; and you... you love him dearly, too. he just needs you to keep going and to keep feeling worthy and happy; you are enough for him, and he will always, always let you know that you are all he loves and cares about, in his own little and big ways and words–because... you love him like that, he makes you happy like that, and you couldn't ask for more.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #across the spiderverse #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara fanfiction #atsv x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara angst #atsv imagines #atsv

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yanderes-galore · 5 months ago

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can you do a yandere giorno giovanna concept if you don't mind?

I love Giorno so yes. This takes place maybe a few years after Part 5 where he's been the boss for a while.

Yandere! Giorno Giovanna Concept

Pairing: Platonic -> Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Stalking, Violence, Blood, Murder, Possessive behavior, Implied kidnapping, Condescending behavior, Delusional behavior, Isolation, Emotional manipulation, Implied attempted mind break, Dubious/Forced relationship.

Giorno could've met you as an adult or maybe even knew you during the events of Part 5.

However, his obsession wouldn't start until after Part 5's events either way.

Giorno, by this point, has already grown into his role of being The Boss of Passione.

With Diavolo gone he's managed to make the streets a little cleaner of drugs.

Giorno's character is described as "your friendly neighborhood gangster".

He wants to help people, even if his role is intimidating.

He and Diavolo are complete opposites in everything, including how they act as Boss.

Giorno is often serious and calm.

Since a young age he's been taught to read people and often puts on masks around people.

He's charismatic and often gets along with people, even as The Boss.

My favorite idea for a yandere Giorno plot is the idea of befriending the mafia boss in some way, only for him to fall for you.

Giorno is a good ally to have, especially when he has power.

Unlike Diavolo he actually cares about you, often checking in once he's befriended you.

I like to think he was inspired by Bruno Bucciarati befriending those around him.

So, once he took over, he wanted others to know he's here to aid them.

Including you.

Maybe you need help from him for something.

A debt, you're a target for something, any sort of problem that would get you involved with the mafia.

Giorno, having a kind heart, offers you such aid.

Maybe he even sends Mista as a bodyguard just in case there is any danger after you.

Giorno is a yandere who's calm and tranquil, not much sets him off.

Even if something did he doesn't show it.

He's really good at hiding how he feels... yet reading how others feel.

You can't hide anything from Giorno.

He seems like he'd often invite you to private chats, considering you a friend.

Plus, he likes to keep an eye on you.

If something was bothering you, like a new controlling partner or some other issue, Giorno can tell.

You can't lie in front of him.

Giorno is adamant on letting you know he cares.

He doesn't want any harm coming to you.

As a Don, he can make that happen.

At first, having Giorno as a friend isn't too bad.

His words often bring you comfort and your presence brings him comfort.

Being involved in the mafia can be a dangerous game, yet Giorno tells you not to worry too much about it.

I feel Giorno could be really subtle about his obsession.

Even if he begins to feel romantic feelings, he waits until you're ready... usually.

Although, he'd influence your mind with his words and gifts.

Giorno has traits from Jonathan and DIO, one of my favorite aspects of his character.

Giorno often echoes aspects from Jonathan when it comes to you.

He lives for your happiness and would do anything to protect you.

He echoes DIO when he feels he has to get rid of those around you.

If Giorno found out someone hurt you, he's cruel.

They'd be gone immediately, be that by Mista or Giorno himself.

He'll make it graphic but hide the whole scene from you.

Then he carefully cleans the blood off himself before returning to you with a smile.

Giorno doesn't want to be a monster in your eyes... despite his heritage.

He's always comforting and welcoming.

He lets you into his home and base of operations willingly... just to see your face.

He just likes knowing you're okay.

Once he has you trust enough, Giorno would start trying to nudge you in the direction of letting him treat you.

He keeps a close eye on you so much he's found himself falling for you.

He's gone many nights thinking about you, worrying about if you're okay or not.

Being friends with him is both beneficial yet dangerous.

He can protect you... but what about when he's not there?

I can see Giorno sending other members to watch over you if he can't do it himself.

You've caught his eye and the last thing he needs is you getting hurt.

Giorno is definitely one to spoil his beloved.

He has the money and he wants to spend it on buying you things.

It doesn't matter if you aren't dating yet, he's adamant on giving you the prettiest items.

Giorno probably gets jealous but has learned to hide it.

Oh... you found someone to date...

They get caught up in a shootout, one of Giorno's ways to get rid of them while also driving you into his arms.

He seems so nice and kind.

But he's also manipulative.

He knows how to get what he wants, hiding it just enough to make you not suspect anything.

Why wouldn't you want to date him?

He is patient, waiting for you as long as he has to.

Although, the moment he wins you over, he smothers you.

Gifts, affection, anything you could ever ask for...

As long as you never leave his sight.

He can protect you, love you, sacrifice anything for you...

Yet you're locked away in a private shared home.

Giorno never likes to show you his more ruthless behavior.

He tells you he keeps you in your shared home because he loves you.

Dealing with gangs can be dangerous and while he can patch wounds... he can't resurrect the dead.

Giorno is paranoid behind his calm facade.

He may even be delusional when you have your inevitable fights.

You'll learn he's doing this for your own good, won't you?

He's primarily protective, like Jonathan.

Yet when he holds or kisses you, possessive behavior like DIO shows itself.

Giorno wants to be patient, however he also likes to know you're his.

He's not quite as bad as DIO, but isn't as harmless as Jonathan.

He isn't fully like them, either, he's his own character.

He's addicted to your warmth and voice, clinging to you whenever you're near.

This behavior is most likely due to his childhood and the events of Part 5.

He hates being lonely... He hates losing those close to him....

As a result, Giorno becomes what he is now.

Under his stoic facade, he's scared.

He's scared to lose you...

So locking you away with him feels like the best way to soothe himself.

While Giorno is often kind and patient with you.

Although if you don't listen to him, I imagine he gets irritated.

He is shown to hate repeating himself.

So I can see him losing his patience if you ignore his advice, orders, or rules... Giorno would feel he'd have to discipline you.

Giorno would never hurt you physically... he seems like he'd go for messing with you mentally.

For example, locking you in your room if you're fighting with him.

It starts with just hours, but soon it may escalate to days... weeks.

He feeds you but withholds affection.

His punishments aim to break you down, to drive you back into his arms.

Giorno wants you to need him... to rely on him...

Once you realize that, then he's won, and he has you all to himself.

"I do everything to protect you, my love...."

#yandere jojo #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere jjba #yandere giorno x reader #yandere giorno giovanna

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teenandbeyond · 2 years ago

Note

Hello! I was wondering if you would want to write for Beerus? I was thinking what a courtship would be like between him and a goddess of creation? :) hopefully you're doing well during the midst of everything that's going on in the real world! Best of wishes! -A

Beerus x Goddess of Creation. Reader

I like the alternative idea. Despite this, I plan to make the personality different! Edit: I'm doing okay, just busy with schoolwork. Best wishes to you, too! I hope everyone who reads this is doing well too, or if not, this can cheer you up a little!

Want more from me? Masterlist

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

🥢Création et Destruction🥢 (DBS or Dragon ball Super)

Warning(s): Fluff

Although destruction and creation contradict each other in meaning, one can not exist without the other...They must coexist to truly make the universe hold the beauty it possesses.

✨✨✨✨✨

You and Beerus are total opposites.

He destroys.

You create.

He is much more relaxed.

While your shoulders are stiff with responsibility and proper etiquette.

When you met, you hadn't expected him to flirt with you on the spot.

"Huh. My first time meeting the Goddess of Creation, can't believe I've been missing out on such a cute Goddess."

"I—That-that's very unprofessional..."

You didn't understand him. You were taught to always be polite and respectful, to always hold your tongue, to always be professional, and to hold your temper.

He hardly did any of those things.

And he could really test your temper.

He easily broke that elegant, put-together wall you had up.

And he enjoyed every minute of it.

"Why are you taking a nap when you have responsibilities?! That's so improper!...Ahem-"

And with time, he broke you down completely.

Noticing you were always tired and stiff and showing you what's it like to relax.

"Just because we have responsibilities doesn't mean we can't relax once in a while. We have to do this for millenniums, might as well catch a few Z's in between."

He is very protective over you when you do relent and catch a nap, he'd be very tempted to destroy the planet of whoever interrupts you.

And he learned you hadn't really explored planets and introduced you to Earth and its cuisine.

Which really excited you.

"Cute..."

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

He liked that your presence wasn't rough as his, the feeling of powerful serenity you gave off was attractive to him. You were polite and fluid in movement, yet your power and knowledge were undeniable.

He wanted you.

So he courted you.

And you saw another side of him.

"Flowers?"

"Bulma gave me an earful and said something about them..."

"Let me guess, you weren't really listening?"

"Well...I want to get this right, so, I tried to remember everything I could. She mentioned something called a 'date' that I'm supposed to take you on..."

He was soft and wasn't afraid to show it...to you...

He noticed your hair was always getting in your face, so he got you fancy hair clips to hold the stray hairs away.

When your shoulders got stiff from playing your role, he learned how you give you massages to make you feel better, but not without cracking jokes the whole time.

He attempted to learn how to cook for you...

Well, actually, he wasn't terrible at that. The dishes he could make were just limited.

You liked watching the process, his frustration was adorable.

Cooking for you? Telling you 'good morning' and 'good night'?

He was whipped.

Undoubtedly.

He even lets you pet him, which you'll do if he gets a little riled up.

You save his dignity and refrain from doing it in public (if it's not necessary) since he purrs a deep rumble.

You do things together, like cooking and of course your roles as Gods.

But Beerus's favorite activity to do with you is definitely napping...or maybe eating...both? That's a hard choice for him to make.

You were really good for each other.

He destroyed your walls and the false personality you upheld.

You created a warmth in his heart that he cherished.

People wondered how you worked out so well, you were opposites.

But being opposites brought you together.

So what if he destroys and you create?

Destruction and creation coexisting can make something truly beautiful

And you two love every minute of it

#beerus x reader #beerus x fem. reder #dbs beerus #beerus #beerus fluff #anime #dbz #dbs x reader #dbz x reader #dbs x fem.reader #dbz x fem.reader #fluff #dbs fluff #dbz fluff

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plutoslvr · 2 years ago

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Okay so in my last Kevin post, I mentioned I have analysis' on how Kevin isn't a coward and how his trauma still affects him and you guys wanted to read it so here!

Why Kevin Day Isn’t a Coward:

Essentially this comes down to 3 specific points in the fandom and even in the books since people are very adamant about the whole coward thing. The two things that people (in book and fandom-wise) use to argue that Kevin is a coward are:

Kevin is still afraid/ doesn’t stand up to Riko

That he left Jean behind in the nest.

Starting off with the first point. Kevin is still afraid and doesn’t stand up to Riko for the majority of the books. Firstly, we need to understand that Kevin has been abused from an extremely young age in the Nest and was conditioned into thinking that kind of behaviour was normal. And by that I mean specifically Riko’s abuse but before that, it was Coach Moriyama that abused both of them.

He was stuck in the Nest for over a decade where his only role was “property” the entire time. That was all he would ever be to them and additionally to that, he wasn’t even allowed to be better than Riko. His entire life from the very start has been about exy but it was only after his mothers death where it became life or death.

During tfc when Neil finds out how Kevin’s hand really broke Wymack says “But the day Kevin stops playing forever is the day he dies. He has nothing else. He wasn't raised to have anything else. Do you understand? We cannot lose to the Ravens this year. Kevin won't survive it."

He wasn’t raised to have anything else, exy is quite literally his everything, and without it, he has nothing and nobody. In this same scene, Wymack says, “Kevin doesn't talk about his time at Evermore, but I could tell it wasn't the first time Riko or Moriyama laid a hand on him. It was just the first time Kevin was smart enough to pack his bags and walk away.”

We never find out in detail what exactly happened to Kevin in the Nest but in TRK when Neil goes there we can see how deluded and obsessed Riko is with Kevin.

Neil moved up alongside him and regretted it almost immediately. Postcards of faraway cities both foreign and domestic were taped to the walls. Beneath each one were scraps of paper. Kevin's now-familiar scrawl listed dates and explanations for the travels. Most of them were games. Some indicated photo shoots and interviews. Books lined the shelves built into the headboard and Neil knew from skimming the spines they were Kevin's. Kevin was majoring in history for reasons Neil couldn't understand; these dry titles were the sorts of things he would find fascinating. It gave Neil chills to see his space preserved like this. It was like Kevin had gone out on an errand, not that he'd transferred to another team entirely.

Riko is so sure that Kevin is going to come back to him because he’s instituted such fear into him, he doesn’t think Kevin has the strength to stand up to him. Which he does, but people don’t seem to realise you can’t undo over a decade's worth of trauma overnight.

Anyway, during Neil’s time in the Nest, he’s treated very similarly to how Kevin would be considering he was in his place but also not as harsh because they had to send Neil back to the Foxes inevitably.

"I am going to love hurting you," Riko said, "like I loved hurting Kevin."

What follows this is Riko tying Neil down and torturing him with a switchblade. By the time Neil leaves the Nest he doesn’t remember anything from the experience- he was so traumatised by it that he doesn’t remember it at all. (It also kinda sucks how Neil gets more sympathy for being in the nest for 2 weeks than Kev did for being there for over a decade.)

Putting this into perspective, Kevin went through that for so much longer and doesn’t get nearly enough of the same sympathy Neil did. Neil returned and Kevin got punched for letting him go even though he tried persuading Neil not to. Kevin has always had Neil’s best interest at heart.

Kevin shook his head and bulled on when Neil started to argue. "The master wants to salvage you. He's going to sign you to the Raven lineup in spring. So long as you keep quiet and keep your head down he won't tell the main family he's found you." "I'm not a Raven," Neil said. "I never will be." "Then run," Kevin insisted, low and frantic. "It's the only way you'll survive."

Kevin was willing to sacrifice the only chance he had to prove his autonomy to the Moriyamas if it meant Neil would be safe. Without Neil, they wouldn’t have enough players to qualify and they wouldn’t be able to play at all. (Again: “But the day Kevin stops playing forever is the day he dies. He has nothing else. He wasn't raised to have anything else. Do you understand? We cannot lose to the Ravens this year. Kevin won't survive it.")

Not to mention the whole “Kevin was silent for an endless minute, then said, "You should be Court." It was barely a whisper, but it cut Neil to the bone. It was a resentful goodbye to the bright future Kevin had wanted for Neil. Kevin recruited Neil because he believed in Neil's potential. He brought him to the Foxes intending to make a star athlete out of him. Despite his condescending attitude and his dismissals of Neil's best efforts Kevin honestly expected Neil to make the national team after graduation.

And even after that, he promised to teach Neil, because at the end of the day, Neil was still Neil and he never gave up on him once.

And Neil understood that being on the run for 8 years was more preferable to the Nest.

“But all Neil had to do was look at Kevin to know he would have hated that life

too.”

Sorry I kinda went off track there anyway we can also see how much Riko’s presence still affects Kevin especially in scenes like the Kathy Ferdinand show.

“Any animosity Neil felt toward Kevin for forcing him onto this show evaporated. He couldn't be angry when Riko was here, not when Riko was to Kevin what Neil's father was to him. Petty anger had nothing on this full-fledged terror.”

Obviously, we all know what a dickhead Neil’s dad was to him so Neil comparing the fear of his father being similar to Kevin’s fear of Riko is so important because it just puts into perspective how afraid Kevin is here face-to-face with his abuser the first time since said abuser permanently disabled him.

But what I don’t think is that Kevin has been standing upto Riko since the start because right after this when they were backstage, Kevin physically stopped Riko from hurting Neil even if it meant getting hurt by Riko again.

A black look twisted Riko's expression into something ugly and unrecognizable. He reached for Neil, but Kevin caught his arm to stop him. Riko slammed his elbow back into Kevin's face without missing a beat.

This scene is probably the best to describe how downright afraid Kevin is of Riko but there are others when Kevin has multiple panic attacks at just the thought of Riko or being in the same vicinity as him and rightfully so! Riko abused him, manipulated him and then took away the only thing he had. And Kevin was just forced to think this was okay.

And a lot of characters and fans see his fear as cowardice instead of a normal trauma response. This is also because Neil tends to speak out more against Riko than Kevin (You know I get it…) but unlike Neil, Kevin has had direct repercussions towards him for the “mistake” of talking back to Riko which of course makes him hesitant.

He knows the Moriyamas could drag him back at any moment and he's terrified of that happening.

Which leads to the second bit of “Kevin doesn’t stand up to Riko.” when many times, he has.

The most prominent example is in TRK, just after the foxes lost their first match to the ravens.

“You have fallen so far, Kevin. You should have stayed down and saved us the trouble of forcing you back to your knees." "I'm satisfied," Kevin said. It was the last response any of the Foxes expected from him. They forgot about Riko in favor of gaping at Kevin. "Not with their score or performance, but with their spirit. I was right. There's more than enough here for me to work with."

Kevin chose the foxes over the ravens- over Riko. He doesn’t allow their loss to become something Riko can use against him but instead something to affirm his current standing with them. This is also the first game Andrew played without his meds meaning he’s crashed by the end of it.

Kevin distracted the Ravens from Andrew's unsteadiness by facing them.

Kevin willingly turned to talk to his ex-abuser and his team if it meant Andrew wouldn’t be under fire. Most people only see Kevin and Andrew as Andrew protecting Kevin but Kevin protected Andrew just as much.

And of course we have the whole tattoo removal and the last exy match against the foxes but I need everyone to understand that those are so so so important. Kevin spent the entire series save the last quarter of the last book viewing himself as Riko’s property. Riko refers to him as such and even without Riko near him, his control is still strong over Kevin.

So Kevin removing his tattoo and replacing it with something with a higher hierarchical structure than Riko’s status as king is so detrimental, it’s a turning point for him because he’s viewing himself as his own person now. And Kevin scoring the winning goal brings us full circle because the last time he did that with Riko, he ended up disabled and shunned.

This brings me to my second point about Kevin running away from the nest. Alot of people see Kevin escpaing from the nest and leaving behind Jean as an act of cowardice. This bit gets a bit complicated because in no way shape or form am I trying to compare trauma’s or anything like that.

But to continue on. The ravens had a very strict policy that we got to see during Neil's experience one of which being that no matter how injured they were, they were still expected to show up to practice. The more mistakes they made the more punishment they'd find themselves in. Not showing was practically a death wish.

Now Kevin having his hand fucking broken would mean thay either he doesn't practise and get punished or practise with his fucked up hand and further damage it. If he stayed I wholeheartedly believe he would've died.

He ran away to save his life and that will never be cowardice not once. He didn't go to Wymack immediately when he found out because he knew what kind of target he'd paint on Wymacks back.

"He was trying to protect him," Neil said. "If Coach knew Kevin was his son, he'd have tried to take him from Edgar Allan." Nicky grimaced. "They'd have never let Kevin go."

He only left when he had no other option. He had nothing left, the one thing he did have was taken away from him, he had no purpose and for once Riko didn't care enough about him to pay attention. And he used that to run.

Leaving Jean behind was something he always regretted, but it was a game of survival. Jean was a gift to the Moriyamas, he was also property to them and couldn't leave. And if the roles were reversed I strongly believe Jean would've done the same thing.

Also Kevin finds a place for him layer with the trojans because he knew that being a fox wouldn't be good for him.

"He isn't safe with us," Kevin said. "I won't give him false hope."

Staying in the nest would've been suicide for Kevin. He's one of the biggest victims in the series but nobody talks about it enough I fear and there's so much to learn about him via context clues etc.

And the saddest thing in my opinion is that Kevin knew was it was like to be loved, he was raised by his mother for a few years before going to the Moriyamas.

ANYWAY to conclude, I suck at essays and I hope I've worded everything well and what I'm trying to say gets across. Kevin is not a coward, never has been a coward and never will be. He's survived through such a damaging and abusive environment only to get moved to a separate environment where everyone just ridicules his defense tactics and he has no real sense of support.

His reasons for what he does always stems from the fact the he doesn't want to go back to being under Riko and Coach Moriyamas "care" and that he's afraid. And most of the time it's things he can't shake from the nest.

Like when he pushes the foxes its so they're always at their best and so none of them get hurt or punished for mistakes. He pushed himself the hardest because he doesn't want to directly affect his teammates.

Or the celebrity persona he was forced to develop.

Or how he makes sure everyone is staying healthy and that they don't force themselves to play when sick or injured because he knows what it's like to be forced to play like that day after day.

AND IVE GONE OFF COURSE AGAIN yeah I kinda mashed together both analysis' of how Kevin's trauma from the nest affects him and how he's not a coward into one thing AND THIS IS SUPER LONG so if ur still here thank you very much for reading I really hope this makes sense

#kevin days defense lawyer right here #this is the longest thing ive ever posted on tumblr #aftg #kevin day #aftg kevin #neil josten #aftg neil #andrew minyard #matt boyd #aftg series #aftg andrew #andriel #kandreil #kevneil #kandrew #david wymack #riko moriyama #FUCK HIM #jean moreau

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livesworthlivingau · 5 months ago

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Behind the Vale Chapters 2-4

Decided to combine these 3 chapters because they'd be especially short from Loop's perspective, and I REALLY wanna get to some stuff shortly after this. Be sure to read the other 3 chapters first! (or maybe bounce between them if you want?) Spoilers for ISAT below! CW: Spiraling mental state

"You had me worried there Sif, but I guess it makes sense you'd be in such a rush. Glad to see you again Loop!" "Yes! We never got to tell you thanks for helping us out yesterday!" [Pity... It's all just pity... You failed them, the original them... The real them.] [All you can do now is put on your silly little mask and continue your performance, the show must go on after all.] "... Well then splendid~! If you're all so eager to have me along, how could I refuse~?" ---------------------------------------------------------- [It was so easy, so blinding easy to fit in, to fill the little gaps of Stardust's perfect little family, to follow along with this whole mockery of your life, this spin off, this cheap imitation... You've gotten so good at pretending you hardly know how to do anything else at this point. That damned Fighter though... So kind, so sweet. he almost feels real, unlike the rest of them. So much so you stop feeling the need to pretend around him... until Stardust finally notices.] (Oh... OH!... Oooooooooooooh.....) -------------------------------------------------------------

"Do you get it now Stardust?! Do you see why this was a bad idea?!"[You've gotten too close now. Stardust just had to invite you into his little life to make himself feel better. He just couldn't take the thought of you feeling sad all by yourself. You're just a sad, kicked puppy to them, too weak and pathetic to be left alone... He'd even give up his own love just so won't have to stomach that endless pity!] ----------------------------------------------------------------- "Where's Loop? They shouldn't miss dinner!... Wait... Can Loop actually eat food?" [You just watch through your little connection with Stardust. You couldn't control yourself around them at the moment, not after your discussion. You need some time away to recover your role, sitting up in a large tree. It was an off comfort, a small bit of familiarity in this whole changing play. You shake off the vision for a moment, keeping your eyes closed and gripping your knife, shearing it across a piece of wood to whittle away at it. You mumble that familiar little mantra under your breath as you do. Your mind races with memories now, so faint and distant, lost to countless loops, but they try to return none the less. Visions of your Fighter, Researcher, Housemaiden, Fighter, Kid, Figh-... Isabeau... He wanted to tell you something... that's the last thing you can remember about him, the real him. You never got to hear it, and now you never will... You hear a snap, opening your eyes and looking at the figure in your hands... It's the Fighter... The head having snapped off from the pressure you exerted, laying in the grass below.] ------------------------------------------------------------------- "So how many has it been?" [You watch Stardust and Odile playing their little drinking game. You don't know why you're listening in, you don't want to know what his life was like before getting stuck back with you... So why do you keep watching?] "-You know you haven't told me about the original loops yet." [You perk up, finally the topic changing to something else, something... oddly nostalgic. You listen more intently, as if curious on how Stardust would regale the events of it all... of what he'd say about you.] ------------------------------------------------------------- [... Why is he speaking so fondly of you?... Does he know you're watching? Can he feel it somehow? No, he knows you can check in on him. He must act like that all the time just in case you're watching...]

"... So what IS Loop anyhow? You HAVE to know more about them, right?" [Your heart suddenly stops... He promised you. He told you he wouldn't tell anyone. He knows you might be watching! He wouldn't if that were the ca-] "Okay, I'll tell you..."

#isat au #isat spoilers #lives worth living au #lwlau #isat #isat fanfic #two hat spoilers #behind the vale #btvau

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bunni-v1 · 1 year ago

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hii, congrats on 500 followers! if it’s okay, i’d like to request idia, trey and leona with D, J, K, M, and T for the NSFW alphabet ^^

🍓AGH I FORGOT YOU LAST NIGHT! I'm so sorry, I was so tired I didn't even notice you among the full list of requests. Please find it in your heart to forgive me!

TW: Idia is REALLY fucking weird; Incest mention (NOT between Ortho and Idia); Idia being a creep; Idia's kinks; Idia

Idia

D - Dirty Secret: Idia is known to watch the cameras at NRC. What people don't know is those cameras are EVERYWHERE (minus the dorm rooms and bathrooms). He sees the students "sneaking around" in broom closets and darkly lit hallways. He hears the muffled whines and moans of "exhibitionists" trying not to get caught. Little do they know they've had his eyes on them the whole time and he's enjoying himself right along with them. It's even better if you're involved (in the case that you're not together, though he's not against cuckolding completely). Seeing his crush be dominated (or do the DOMINATING) by someone else gets him all hot and bothered.

J - Jack Off: He is in a sexual relationship with his right hand. He jacks off all the fucking time -- at least thrice daily. It's always to the worst shit imaginable too, like fucked up incest hentai, anime girls that are HARDLY legal, the shit you'd imagine a shut-in to be into. He's embarrassed by it, 'cause the shit he does is so gross. He'd find it hot if you wanted to watch him though. He'd be all whiny and shy about it, but it's honestly the sexiest thing he's ever done.

K - Kink: The better question is what kink does he NOT have? Roleplay, marking, hardcore bdsm, cuckolding, blah blah blah. You name it, he's considered it and gotten off to it at least once. However, his favorite thing? Soft mushy sex. The kind where you hold his hand and tell him how good he's doing, how well he gets you off, how big his dick is, how pretty he is when he cries. Ugh, that's the shit for him.

M - Motivation: Brushing his hand with yours is enough to make him pop a boner. You can't blame him though, he's never felt the touch of another person who isn't his literal family.

T - Toys: Yeah of course he uses toys. He has a collection (that he HIDES like it's the nuclear codes or something) that he uses on himself when he feels like it. If you wanted to use them on him he wouldn't be opposed... if you want him to use them on you, well, that's even better.

Trey

D - Dirty Secret: Believe me or not, Trey is a fucking perv. He's REALLY ashamed of it because he's Heartslabyul's resident good-boy big brother. He's a role model for most of his dorm mates, so him creeping on the other guys in the locker room isn't something he wants to get out. Oh yeah, he's a panty sniffer lol.

J - Jack Off: Despite being a perv, he doesn't feel a need to get off all that often. Back at home, he doesn't have the time or privacy to. So he just learned to deal with a raging boner. However, when he does, which is rare, he prefers the fantasy of you under the table sucking him off during class over anything porn can offer.

K - Kink: Trey isn't all that kinky, other than the whole panty-sniffing thing. He likes things simple and easy, but he enjoys a power-dynamic kind of situation a lot. Never tell anyone this, but if you wanna play step-siblings with him, it's probably the hardest he ever cums in his life.

M - Motivation: Giving him personal attention over anyone else is a surefire way to get him up and going. Especially when other people want your attention, and you just hard focus on him. Sevens, he loves that, fuels a very rare possessive side of him that he doesn't let out often.

T - Toys: Nah, Trey's a pretty "I'm gonna do it myself" kinda guy. If a toy can give you more pleasure than he can, he's not really doing his jobe right, is he?

Leona

D - Dirty Secret: He wants to be DOMINATED. Put him in his PLACE, call him a good kitty, make him grovel, and beg for you to let him cum. It's his ultimate fantasy, and he wouldn't EVER admit it to anyone -- especially not you. He can't let you know you could have that power over him. (He's a hard dom until he's not, lol).

J - Jack Off: A lot of people say that Leona doesn't jack off but like...? Are we talking about the same character? There is NO WAY he doesn't just lay in bed and stroke it on a really lazy day. Like, yeah he doesn't particularly enjoy it, he'd rather have you, but you have to do what you have to do to get off.

K - Kink: Leona, surprisingly, isn't into anything too humiliating for his partner. I mean, he's got a humiliation kink that goes both ways -- but that's completely verbal degradation stuff. He's a choker, but he'd never slap you. He's pretty much into everything you'd expect a hard dom to be into, but he'd never physically hurt you. It's against his moral code.

M - Motivation: It's hard to get him motivated if he's not into something. So really, there's nothing that gets him motivated, he either wants to fuck you or he doesn't and nothing's changing his mind. Even that pretty silk set he bought you. He's tired now, come take a nap with him. (If you're insistent, he'll eat you out or smth, but don't expect much more than his mouth and hands.)

T - Toys: Leona, like Trey, is very much an "I can do it myself, we don't need toys" guy. And, he's right, he can. He honestly finds toys insulting to his ability and refuses ANYTHING like that ANYWHERE near him or you.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #x reader #bunni's treats 🧁#leona kingscholar x reader #trey clover x reader #idia shroud x reader

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viviennevermillion · 1 year ago

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*breaks into your inbox*

Hello again! I loved the first one and I'm absolutely in love with Sampo and Blade so can I request headcanons for them with a partner that loves to just shower them in affection? Like they love to hold hands, hug, compliment them, and just give little kisses all the time? :3

Showering them in Affection

✧ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: this made me swoon so much because aaaaaaaaaaaaa sampo shdhshdjzjsjdjs. also guys check out my hsr network @masked-fools! feel free to apply to join us! also do tell me if you want to be on my taglist for any characters!

✧ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: feels like home — edwina hayes

✧ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: sampo, blade

✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: none

Sampo may seem like an "easygoing fella", as he describes himself, and seems to talk more than he is silent but it's a role he plays. Getting Sampo to open up and be genuine and honest with you is incredibly difficult and takes a long, long time and through it all he is pining so much. So once he's actually with you and fully gives his heart to you, he craves your affection like it's the air he breathes

He always indulges you when you decide to basically shower him in affection. You'll be planting kisses all over his face and Sampo has the proudest, happiest smile on his expression as if someone just crowned him king of Belobog.

He loves deep kisses. He'd be up for kissing you for an hour straight if you wanted to. He puts on a nice lip balm in your favorite flavor just for you. Just so you keep feeling like kissing him. He adores when you cup his cheeks and kiss him like this is your last day together. It makes his heart flutter.

Sampo feels he's living the dream with someone as affectionate as you. He's a man who wants to be spoiled and pampered. Literally melts and wonders whether he's in heaven already when you hold him in your arms and place soft kisses on his forehead. He snuggles closer to you, nuzzling your neck and you can smell his shampoo as you rest your head on top of his. It's really nice. Occasionally he pecks your neck and tries to cling to you even more than he's already doing.

You know those couples who make out in the hallway whilst other people are present? That's Sampo except in the Administrative District of Belobog. He thinks you look cute holding a small bouquet he got you at the flower shop and he decides if he wants to kiss you now, the tram and its driver, who is already cursing at you for standing in the way, can wait.

He's always happy when you want to hold his hand. But it also is never enough for him. You reach for his hand and he pulls you into a hug or presses a kiss to your lips almost reflexively.

Listen, Sampo is a sucker for compliments. He was thinking about "tall, blue and handsome" but any compliment that comes out of your mouth literally sounds so much better than that. He'd love to be called a pet name like "love" or "darling". Makes him feel like in a way you're partners in crime even if you're not participating in his scams.

There's nothing that makes Sampo's heart beat faster than you being bold with your affections. Pulling him into a kiss in front of a whole crowd. Trailing soft pecks down his neck while you're hiding from the Silvermane Guards. Announcing to your friends who may not approve of him as your boyfriend that he's the love of your life. He's down bad when you do stuff like this.

Blade tries to not show it on his face how much he adores how affectionate you are with him. He's never imagined himself as someone who's into this type of thing but surprises can come even to someone who has lived as long as he has.

Blade prefers slower, more soft affections from you behind closed doors as opposed to Sampo. He loves when the two of you are cuddled up in bed and you tell him how much you love him and kiss his cheek repeatedly.

Sometimes when he's back from a mission for the Stellaron Hunters, you'll immediately run up to him to embrace him. You'd pull him into a desperate but slow kiss, whispering against his lips that you were worried and that you love him, and Blade leans into your touch and his expression changes from one of stoicism or concern to an uncharacteristically soft and affectionate one. "Don't worry... I'm here now. I'll be alright", he always reassures you even on days where that couldn't be further from the truth.

After a long and stressful day, Blade loves when you drag him to have a warm bath with you. You help him wash his long hair and he falls asleep with his head on your chest inside the bathtub because the feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp makes him relax into your embrace immediately. You have to chuckle at how peacefully he rests in your embrace. You only decide to end his nap once the water has started feeling a little cold. You wake him up with soft kisses and he hums quietly as he's waking up. As soon as he's aware of his surroundings again, he turns his head for his lips to find yours.

When Blade comes back from a battle, his skin is often sore and he feels tense so he loves when you help him relax by giving him a nice massage or pressing kisses to the scars that line his shoulders while whispering soft praises. You can see his facial expression relax and he looks so much more at peace already. His shoulders are also very sensitive so he just leans back and focuses on your kisses for a while whilst holding your hand in his.

Blade has calloused hands and slightly chapped lips. He's happy you still want to hold his hands and kiss him even though his skin is not soft. You tell him that this just means he has been through things and needs your love even more. "What would I do without you?", Blade chuckles lightly and lets you pull him into a hug.

Gets flustered at PDA. Especially if it's in front of his fellow Stellaron Hunters. He'll be chatting about Elios recent prophecies with Silver Wolf and Kafka and if you're the type of person to run up to him and try to bear hug him he's like 😳

Let's you call him Bladie but only if it's followed up by a kiss or an "I love you"

Blade is more of a passive lover but you can be certain that he enjoys every bit of your affectionate side.

#honkai star rail fluff #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail blade #hsr x reader #hsr #blade #blade x you #blade x reader #hsr blade #sampo x you #sampo koski x reader #sampo #sampo koski #sampo koski fluff #blade fluff

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powderblueblood · 10 months ago

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YES, NURSE RATCHED - a hellfire & ice retelling of chapter eight's most pivotal moment, from eddie's pov

a special treat for my love @deadlynightshade-and-hyacinth eddie munson x f!reader, reader is nicknamed lacy, reader's last name is also mentioned, this is lore-filled and handsy so if that's not your thing keep it truckin, minors dni i do not like you go away warning for strong language, smut inthe form of public fingeringgggg, drug usage, extremely bad parenting (al munson klaxon), evoking the feeling of a comedown, billy hargrove gets his shit rocked, excuse all typos it's redacted o'clock and i'm a little buzzed word count: 2.6k

The first thing you should know about the following occurrences is that they are preluded by a whole lot of next thing Eddie knows. Things snapping his attention to the left, to the right, knocking him over the head, rearing up on him with little to no warning.

Number one? His dad showing up at Reefer Rick’s, eyes bloodshot and sleep deprived and frantic, putting on a pantomime of being so psyched to see his boy! Rick snapping to attention and falling into his role of affable associate of Munson Senior immediately, despite the apology he’d tried to press against Eddie right when Al crunched the gravel of his driveway. What followed was a bender that Eddie couldn’t help but give into. Al has that effect on people, even him, even Eddie in his angry, angsty resoluteness that he should know better.

You try knowing better when you're all bewitched, bothered and bewildered and shit.

Cue cut lines and records blaring until daylight broke over Lover's Lake– then Eddie, rising at noon but barely landed from his previous (ill-advised and bad-parentally-supervised) high, got it in his head that he ought to show up for school. At least for a little bit.

Because they’d tossed your last name around a little last night, Al and Rick. Doevski this, Doevski that, in weird, vague terms that Eddie didn’t all the way understand. And the more weed he smoked and the more Jim Beam that got passed around, the less he remembered.

Which, dumb, right?

You’d tell him that was dumb.

You’d tell him he should have stayed sharp, listened up, gathered information.

He passed out on Rick’s sagging couch, mind searing with nothing but thoughts of you nagging him for intel.

Eddie woke up cotton-mouthed with your name on his lips.

He needed to see you.

To catch one of your avoidant, barely-there glances as you flit through the hallway or maybe even spy you smoking a cigarette on the outdoor bleachers, reading in silence with Ronnie or Wheeler.

He’d think of what to say to you in the moment; probably spurned on by the sneer you’d give him– which he’d totally have earned, for having the nerve to ignore you for so long.

Forgive me, he'd say, hands held aloft in Christlike composure, I just couldn't look you in the eye knowing you were getting willingly boinked by some Ivy League sweater monkey.

And then you'd have to admit your little bullshit college boyfriend wasn't Ivy League, and he'd prod you with that for a while, and things would eventually ebb back to whatever shade of normal you two were pretending to be. So? Okay!

But.

Next thing Eddie knows, he’s peeling into the parking lot and the first thing that he sees, bada bing, is you. All however many feet of you, steel true and planted on the hood of Billy Hargrove’s fucking Camaro, wielding a baseball bat like a sword.

Eddie’s heart stops for the full entirety of a what fresh hell is this filter-focused second before he skids the van to a halt and launches himself from it.

He advances this helluva scene just in time to hear you holler out, right in front of God and everyone,

“One thing you can say for Eddie Munson, is at least the motherfucker can get hard!”

Eddie’s tread stutters and he wonders if this is what people mean when they use the expression taken out at the knees. Can he get a fucking encore, please?

But then there’s the issue of the rabies-ridden Hargrove, the kid who’s snorted so much of Eddie’s dubiously cut supply that it’s no wonder that word has gotten around that he can’t keep his johnson rigid. There’s a thread dangling somewhere that makes Eddie wonder how familiar you are with that concept but. Alas. Digression.

Hargrove calls you a cunt, and Eddie’s vision is replaced with a swathe of red.

How ‘bout you try playing it cool, hearing someone talk to your girl like that, after a night of fun family drug-taking?

Wait. His what? Hold on--

Next thing Eddie knows, he’s side-swiping Hargrove like a dirty bumper car, yak yaks something kind of funny (he hopes) and does not turn to look at you standing backlit like a holy fucking statue. Because he knows you’ll look beautiful up there, white hot with rage, holding a weapon poised for minor automotive destruction. He can’t handle beauty, not right now. Because of that thing from before with his knees.

“...now her snooty ass is spreading it for half of Hawkins! Desperate! Stringin’ you along like the dumb piece of shortbus shit you a–”

It’s impossible to say whose hair trigger that tugged first, yours or Eddie’s. That’s like chicken vs egg. That’s like Han vs Greedo. That’s like, irrelevant.

That baseball bat clatters to the pavement, a hearty overture to Eddie’s surge of empowerment, of rage, of insisting that she isn’t, I’m not, she isn’t, I’m not, nobody talks about her like that–

Next thing Eddie knows, he’s sitting beside you. Outside the principal’s office. Hand split open and aching, nose backed up and a little bleeding, coming down like the fucking Hindenberg. Reckoning with the fact that he wouldn’t need to be a little morning-after zipped on coke to throw a punch for you, if it came down to it. If it came down to it, he would have tried caving in Billy Hargrove’s other eye socket. He would have made him look like the Elephant Man if you needed him to.

He liked that Eraserhead movie you made him watch.

“He needs an ice pack…”

The soft mumble from you makes Eddie take this breath that makes his chest feel like it might concave. You, you. Reckless, unbuttoned, unlaced, off-kilter you, that still had time to snap at him after he’d tried to freeze you out, that still had eyes that asked him did it hurt?

Eddie eavesdrops on as much of your grilling with Higgins and the hot guidance counsellor as his damaged eardrums will allow. Temporary insanity. Disgusting prank. He wonders what that’s about… and again, didn’t even think to question what brought you onto the hood of Hargrove’s car. He just saw you. He just acted.

He just keeps doing that.

And then he hears. College. Application deadlines are within touching distance.

“I can turn this around.”

Of course. Eddie hadn’t even thought about that, because he’s him. And it was something you were probably worrying yourself sick over, because you’re you– you wanted out of here. To get up, go, be someone great.

“New York, ideally,” you’d said to him once, tightrope walking across the broken bleachers outside; you’d been waiting around for him to give you a ride home, but he had a deal to make first. You were weirdly patient, weirdly pensive that day. “Someplace I can go and burrow in and absorb everything and grow out of a crack in the sidewalk, new.”

Eddie’d held your hand, helping you step over a gap in the bench, “Not taking Manhattan by storm? Hurricane Lacy?”

You–and he remembered this–had held onto his hand for a few more minutes, a cigarette dwindling in the other. Your fingers were cold; they clutched at his a little tighter when you spoke again.

“No. Not Manhattan, not midtown, not big business. I have precipitated a change in my weathervane.”

“What does that mean?”

“Means that someone taught me the difference between being important and being significant.”

Back in the room. Eddie drawls out some stupid crack to Higgins, who he’s still supplying with enough benzos to take out Jonestown a second time, which is the only reason he hasn’t been booted out of Hawkins High for absolute and final good. And then you’re alone again, the two of you. Together.

“Wanna get out of here?”

Next thing Eddie knows, he’s spending the last of his energy like it’s burning a hole in his pocket, horsing around on the nurse’s saddle stool while you rifle through her office. You are all edgy and commanding because you have no idea how to say sorry you got wailed on by Hargrove for me.

Good. He likes you better like this, at least for right now. Likes to watch you attempt to pirouette on the razor’s edge of your relationship to one another, mostly because your attempt is more graceful and easier to watch than his is. And he likes to watch you. Watch you do anything, really.

Watch you snap at him to get on the bed. Fuck.

Watch you tear and dab at his busted knuckles. Fuckfuck.

Watch you talk about Cat People and press his hand to his chest and tell him he’s injured and wrong and watch you watch searing, singing alcohol on his split lip dry up. Eddie watches your eyes brighten and darken with curious affection, like those twinkle lights that fade in and out, steady as breathing. His breathing is anything but steady. His knees have come apart, letting you stand between them.

You dab and he lets this broken sound loose from him, because the proximity of your body to his feels like a fresh fucking spring breeze and god, god, the way you’re touching him with such gentle, measured movements, like you’ve choreographed every one–

You’re so exact. You’re so organized. He wants to unexact you.

Eddie uses his good hand, not that either of them are really any good, and presses as much of you into him as he can. The flush of your front, the flush of your mouth, he even has to stop those shorn denim-sheathed legs of his from wrapping around your hips. Eddie’s grip, it travels, hitching tweed up the curve of your ass.

You don’t push him away like he figured you might, you don’t indignantly demand what is going on?! You don’t. You weave your hand up the line of his thigh, to the hard edge of his crotch where he is straining, a rigidity that’s been building since you went all Nurse Ratched on him.

A rigidity that’s hard to keep down around you, badum-tsssss.

Fuck.

Eddie almost knocks the word loose with a low groan that’s pressed into the supple flesh of your cheek, your lovely blushing fucking cheek, a cheek he goes to kiss or bite or something but misses by a hair because you’re straining your neck back. To look at him. Not soberly, he hopes.

Someone down there is wishing him death by dick.

Not the wettest, wildest, filthiest dreams that he’s had about you (and categorically, there have been many) could have prepared Eddie Munson from the earth-shattering consequences of this tiny gesture. Your tongue, perfect and pink, darts to his lip, stinging and sore and comes away with the tiniest drop of ruby-red blood sitting on its tip.

And you suck his bottom lip between yours, eyes fluttering closed.

Eddie’s cock jumps as his heart does, not a second out of time, as you clamber up, into his lap– so completely un-Lacylike, so totally… unexact. How, in all the vastness of Heaven and earth and Middle Earth and Hell and the Bookstore and the closet and his bedroom and the van could he be so fucking stupid?

“Just friends, right?” Eddie is deaf to how pained it comes out sounding.

His good hand travels. He finds your thighs, the softness there giving way to easy indents for his fingers and he knows, he knows that this is where his hands should be–unless, higher could be good? Higher, high up past those offending, incriminating lace top stockings that drilled through Eddie’s mind like an ice pick, giving him whatever the opposite of a lobotomy is. Haunting him with a fervour, begging him to snap them, but there’s no fucking time for that, god it hurts but there’s no fucking time for that because you. Two. Are. In. The fucking. Nurse’s. Office.

But the world has ceased turning.

Eddie’s mouth opens in a silent attempt at a moan as his fingers push past to the beating, radiating core of you that the throbbing, radiating core of him longs for.

You’re so wet, and soft and lush and it rings through is head like a fucking hallelujah, you’re wet, you’re wet for him.

More than anything, he needs your encouragement–he needs to know that you want him to keep going. That you want him, that you want him, that–

You nod, frantic and undone, and Eddie kisses you for it just before he realizes he has no idea what he’s doing. But nothing in his body tells him to zoom out–in fact, the only thing he wants is more in. More you, more of you wrapped around him. He moves his hands with a clumsiness usually uncharacteristic of him, fucking guitar guy, fucking painting miniatures and shit guy. But it works, according to you and the way you keen against him with your beautiful, spit-shining lips parted and pulling against his.

These little noises, chirps and swallowed moans of yours– it’s like music. He wants to choke on them.

Eddie’s voice kind of cracks open again, letting a little air and a touch of begging out. He strains, pained, cock aching against the hitch of denim. “Does he do this? Does anyone do this for you, Lacy?”

Because you’re lonely, and Eddie knows that, with his fingers stroking you deep. You’re lonely, or would be, were it not for him. And it feels like now, in the heady swirl of these few moments that are stretched into an infinity, that he’s using it against you, but he’s not. He should be the one doing this for you, he should be the one making you feel this way, making you tremble even as he clumsily thumbs at your clit, because he thinks knows you and he thinks you want it unmeasured and unshackled and washing over you in a wave of sheer blind devotion and that’s why his tongue is all over your neck.

That’s why his knuckles are split.

That’s why there’s no malice in Eddie’s voice when he croaks, “Just friends? Lacy?” as you rock and spasm, hands clutching him around the shoulder and whimpers barely deadened against his lips. He can feel the texture of your pinched brow against his own.

He wants to clutch you as close as he possibly can, but he’s got one good arm and it’s between your legs.

Between your legs. Jesus fucking Christ.

Sobriety hits like a tidal wave as your breath returns to its normal rhythm; Eddie’s doesn’t quite have the same rebound. He’s still huffing a little, out of exertion or out of nerves, as he slips his hand out from under you, brushing what was off on his jeans. A small patch of his own bodily fluid collected there too, making sure he’s wearing the both of you like Hester Prynne’s scarlet letter as he walks around for the rest of the day.

Eddie, throat starting to tighten up, pulls you in for one kiss, to give you one last taste of where he’d been split open for you. Melodrama dances around it; shades of we shouldn’t have, but we did, but we can’t, but now I have to fucking live with the fact I cracked open this Pandora’s box and I’m sorry.

Or something to that effect.

And you see right through him, because you always do. Hair in a muss, lips flushed, adjusting your skirt, re-exacting yourself, you clean up any evidence that this had ever happened. At least, on a surface level.

Eddie dares to look at you once more, and you dare to look back at him. And thank god he’s sitting down, because that look shoots him right through the fucking aorta. You, wide-eyed and small-looking, pupils darting and unsure, are asking him why. Pleading with him, why. Why do this. Why now. Why at all, ever, why did you have to. Even though you know.

“I–”

“No, I know. I know. I certainly know.”

Because you’re Lacy. You know everything.

Eddie does think about going after you for a second, after your curt nod and dash through the door but he knows that it’s a zero-sum game. He has nothing good to say. It’s not even you that’s rendered him speechless– funny thing, you usually do the opposite. You always give him something to say. He just has nothing good to say. Nothing worthy of you.

So he sits there, on the examination table, waiting for the mythical Nurse Lydia to tend to his wounds.

First he’ll will himself soft, then he’ll will himself sane.

Famous last words.

#published by powder #e. munson by powder #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson fic #blurbs #edlacy #hai brainrot #this actually helped me crack a little thing i've been stuck on in chap 9 so thank you for that!!!#Spotify #l. doevski by powder

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mc-lukanette · 1 year ago

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"You want me to patrol?" Luka asked, staring down at the snake miraculous being held out to him.

Ladybug nodded. "Yeah! Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be great at it!"

That wasn't what he'd been thinking about, actually. Taking the miraculous from her hand and putting it on - something she looked oddly pleased about - he pressed, "I don't mind, but why do you want me to do it?"

The miraculous shifted into its disguised state, a light coming off to bring Sass back into existence. The kwami reclined back like he was lounging in an invisible chair, then waved a paw and replied, "Public opinion."

Luka stared, still feeling lost.

Ladybug tilted her head in Sass's direction, continuing, "It's hard for snake heroes to gain any favor from the public. Real snakes are scary for people and no one can understand your power more than you can."

He vaguely understood that. To everyone else, the snake's powers weren't particularly flashy and the only one who got to experience the reset timelines was him. He'd never particularly considered how people thought about it as he didn't really care, but he acknowledged that the two were making sense.

"I care about all my heroes," Ladybug added, putting her hands on her hips, "and I want the public to care about them too. I'm sure all you need to do is go out there, put on a little snake charm, maybe tell a few stories about your timelines, and everyone will get that Viperion does great work just like everyone else, if not greater."

He couldn't be sure if she'd added on the end because she meant it, or because she could only gauge his success rather than his time and effort. The thought that she considered him a hard enough worker that he could outpace others made him smile.

"I'll do it. Thank you, Ladybug."

She beamed. "No, thank you." She took his wrist with the bangle in both hands and lifted it to her chest level, as if reciting a prayer to it. "I have my own things to do, but I know you'll do a good job with or without me!"

He nodded obediently. "Is there anything else I should know?"

"No! Or—" She paused, pursing her lips. It was the face of someone who felt like they were forgetting something. "Mm, not know, but..."

She pulled out her yoyo, popping it open and slipping her hand inside. Her tongue stuck out to the side as she searched for whatever she was looking for, at one point putting her whole forearm in. When the movement stopped, she lit up with a delighted, "Aha!" and lifted out a folded sheet of paper. She unfolded it to give it a quick check, then happily handed it over to him.

It was a map of Paris, lines snaking across with numbered indicators and circled locations. He would've assumed it was Ladybug's that she was letting him borrow if not for the "Property of Viperion" written in the corner, both 'i's dotted with hearts.

It was cute.

Ladybug sidled up next to him, pointing to the various parts of the map to explain, "This is the quickest way to get around the city while still making sure you're being thorough. The circled spots are where you can meet with a lot of people at once; great for public image. Even Chat doesn't know these."

"Really?" Despite the teasing tone in her voice, he knew she wasn't lying.

"He doesn't need it. He's a cat and people love cats." She rolled her eyes in faux exasperation, then nudged him with a playful smile. "We snakes and ladybugs have to stick together, right?"

He smiled back. He had no idea where this whole conversation of hers had come from, but he nodded and agreed, "Right."

And with that, she was ready to go, stepping away and waving him goodbye before heading off. Luka waved back, but felt eyes on him and turned his head to see Sass staring at him with a knowing expression.

"...What?"

He learned that day that Sass hissed when chuckling.

——

Patrolling was entirely different from fighting akuma, Viperion learned. There wasn't any real tension so long as he didn't find anything, and it felt like it served a nice role in getting him further acclimated to his hero self. He could jump and travel around easily enough when he was called upon, but it didn't escape him how his jumps grew more confident and his landings more solid as time went on.

Whenever he came across a circled area on the map, he would do as Ladybug had recommended and talk to the various civilians he'd find there. Unlike what he imagined would happen with Ladybug or Chat Noir, he had to check on them first rather than being called over for pictures or comments. It didn't bother him beyond the concern that he wasn't doing as much as Ladybug asked, but he couldn't verify until he went back to her.

Time passed smoothly enough, Viperion mentally checking off the map's numbers as he went. Near the end of the patrolling path happened to be around Marinette's house too, so he was in a good mood.

He was within eyesight of the place when someone suddenly called out, "Hey, Viperion~!"

He almost faltered, looking out towards the familiar voice to see Marinette on her balcony and excitedly trying to wave him down. He smiled unconsciously, feeling the natural pull she always had on him that urged him closer, but snapped out of it when he remembered that he was Viperion at the moment. He was supposed to be a stranger to her.

Taking one more look at his map, he noted the circle - oddly enough - right around the bakery. He supposed it could've been referring to the park nearby, but regardless, he was meant to be talking to civilians and Marinette was indeed a civilian.

If it wasn't what Ladybug had in mind, he'd twist the rules just this once.

Giving Marinette a look to convey his intent, he waited for her to step back before leaping towards her, allowing him enough space on the balcony to safely land. It was equally helpful that some of the various things on the surface had been moved in such a way that he'd had a clear place to drop onto.

"Hey... citizen." Wow, that sounded bizarre. "Can I help you?"

She giggled - cute - and nodded at him. Beckoning to him, she stepped back towards the entrance to her bedroom. "Yeah. Come with me for a minute."

She was so forward about it that Viperion genuinely wondered if this was just something that happened with heroes, or only with Marinette specifically. Perhaps Ladybug had even been invited inside before?

He couldn't bring himself to refuse her, so he followed her down onto her bed, then down the stairs to the main part of her room. He watched her walk across and bend down to the chest near her chaise lounge, her hands fiddling with the latch to open it. She reached inside and pulled out something teal, but he couldn't quite see what it was with her body obscuring it.

Marinette, careful not to show him what was in her arms, walked over to a full-body mirror nearby. Finally turning to him, she held up the object and asked, "What do you think?"

Viperion's jaw dropped. There in her arms was a Viperion plush and, judging from his own reflection in the mirror, she'd even gotten the smaller details right. He got the distinct feeling that she had looked at him more than he'd looked at himself just to ensure that the plush was accurate.

"Wow, it's..." He approached, reaching out but not feeling able to touch the plush, as if he wasn't worthy of it. At Marinette's encouragement, he gingerly held one of the little arms and gave it a squish to test its softness. "This is incredible work."

"Thanks." She beamed, swaying her hips and looking pleased with herself. "I try to make one of everyone, but this one's my favorite."

He looked at her questioningly, touched yet confused, but she wasn't meeting his eyes anymore. Her gaze turning back at the chest, she gently placed the plush in his arms and returned to her collection to start pulling more of her work out.

Viperion glanced at the stuffed imitation of him, unsure of how to handle it but doing his best to give it support. Marinette must've seen him at some point while setting out plushies, given the otherwise random giggle she'd let out.

After roughly a minute, she'd finished, sitting in the middle of the two groups she'd set out and spreading her arms out above them. Indeed, there was a group of plush superheroes to one side of her and even a group of plush akuma to the other. If he really eyed their details, he could tell which had been made when she was just starting out and which she'd done recently once she had experience, but it was all equally impressive to him.

Bringing the plush with him, he sat down in front of her and let it sit on his lap. He couldn't care less what he'd looked like, too busy admiring her work. His face must've shown it without him saying anything, as she puffed her chest out like she was basking in the unspoken praise.

Then, his eyes locked on something purple, black, and out of place amongst the heroes. In any other circumstance, he probably wouldn't have focused or commented on it, but it was also of him: specifically, Silencer, his akumatized self who had relentlessly chased down Bob Roth and stolen the voices of multiple people, including Ladybug herself. Bitter memories rushed back to him of waking up after the fact and fearing what might've happened while he'd been under someone else's control, the worst being if he'd hurt Marinette in some way

"That's an akuma," he said flatly. His own tone caught him off guard, but Marinette either didn't notice or didn't mind his disdain for that particular plush.

She followed his gaze to the mini Silencer in question. Rather than realizing that she'd made a mistake, she smiled, picking up the plush and setting it on her lap. Hand resting on the soft helmet on its head, she looked at him and explained, "Yeah, but... he's a hero to me."

She couldn't keep saying things like that to him without elaboration. He could only take so much without letting his civilian self show.

Thankfully, she elaborated this time, "People at my school get akumatized all the time; sometimes right in front of me. I have to run away from them as fast as I can, because even if they're not after me, I'm still another potential target for them." She turned the plush so she could look at its face, her eyes going soft as she continued, "Silencer was the first time someone got akumatized to protect me; when I felt honored to be protected. He didn't want my attention either, he wanted to get revenge because of what Bob Roth did."

Viperion hadn't known that. He'd had a brief discussion with Marinette about something he'd apparently said, but he'd been needed on stage and couldn't finish any sort of conversation with her. It warmed him greatly, knowing that she appreciated him even as an akuma.

"Sure, he was still another one of Hawk Moth's akuma, so Ladybug had to take care of him," she acknowledged, "but I think he's a little misunderstood, like you."

"Like me?"

She nodded, bringing back her point from earlier. "That's why the Viperion plush is my favorite. You're the least popular out of everyone, but I bet you do so much work during your Second Chances. Even though you should be getting more credit for it, no one notices until you're going around—" She gestured between them, indicating their current situation. "—like this."

He grew quiet, already seeing the connection. His heart sank at the thought.

"...It's relatable," she whispered with a sad smile, her fingertips trailing across the top ridge of the plush Silencer's helmet, "not being noticed for what you can do, people seeing you at your surface level..."

Shifting, Viperion held his plush self to his chest and moved within arm's reach of her. With his free hand, he reached out, cupping her cheek to tilt her face up to him.

Quietly, but firmly, he told her, "For what it's worth, I think you deserve to be noticed for all of you, not just the part that people decide to see."

It was definitely pushing the boundaries of what he should be "allowed" to do as a hero, but at its core, Viperion thought that that's what a hero was meant to do. Saving Paris was only the surface level of what people saw heroism as: the deeper, more important part was to care for the emotional well-being of the civilians.

He'd already gone through akumatization once and he'd never wish such an experience on Marinette. Keeping her happy was a top priority for him, both before and now, regardless of how she felt about him.

Her mouth curving back into the smile he'd missed in its short time away, Marinette reached up and placed her hand over his. "Thank you. Sorry if I brought the mood down."

"This is my job—" It wasn't, not in the way she'd be thinking of anyway. "—and it's not much compared to what you did. Thanks for appreciating me."

She nodded, eyes shining with her own gratefulness. There seemed to be more that she wanted to say, but she dropped his hand and shook her head to rid herself of it. Regretfully, she admitted, "I shouldn't keep you any longer."

He nearly blurted out that she could keep him forever if she wanted, but he held back. Equally as regretful as her, he returned the Viperion plush to her waiting hands.

Marinette took it, taking the plush in her free hand and scooting out of the way. The movement left a Marinette-sized space where she'd been, which is where she decided to set the plush down. Putting the Silencer plush back where he was before, she also took the Ladybug plush and let it settle next to the Viperion one.

It left the two as the only ones in the once-empty spot.

"They look good together," she commented, looking over her shoulder at him.

He stared, not sure how to feel about his crush having an opinion on his relationship with someone else, but he didn't express it. She clearly thought highly of his partnership with Ladybug in a way no one else did, which he considered a positive.

"...Yeah." He grinned at her. "I think so too."

——

"So?" Ladybug clasped her hands together, curiosity in her eyes. "How'd it go?"

"I got to talk to people," Luka replied vaguely as he handed the miraculous back to her. His visit with Marinette had made everything else fuzzy by comparison. "There was no trouble, but there was only one person who wanted to see Viperion."

"I'm sure that'll change!" she assured, her blinding confidence thoroughly astounding him. Leaning in and grasping his shoulders, she insisted, "You deserve to be appreciated, whether that's as a civilian, a hero, or an akuma."

He went to thank her, practically overflowing with all the affection he'd received at that point, but he paused when her words truly registered with him.

Ladybug, however, didn't give him a chance to respond. She stepped away, stashing the snake miraculous into her yoyo and making her escape back out into the city with her usual wave of good-bye.

Luka was certain that he'd heard properly: she'd said akuma. He supposed it could just be a coincidence that Marinette and Ladybug had both happened to reference his akumatized self, but Ladybug's expression had hinted to him that it was more than that. It had been strange to him that Marinette's balcony had been open for him, and even more so that Marinette happened to be there like she was waiting for him. If both she and Ladybug had wanted him to feel appreciated (mission accomplished on that one, obviously), then it was possible that they'd teamed up to give him a double dose of gratitude.

Or at least, that must've been the reason, because the only other option was—

Ah.

Just like that, Luka blushed a deep shade of red, the memory of Marinette placing the Ladybug and Viperion plushies together burning itself permanently into his mind.

#queuekanette #lukaneventte: No Context November #Flower Arrangement Shipping #Pro LukaMari #Vipernette

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