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#DONT EVEN ASK ME ABOUT RENDERING

blueiight · 8 months

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theres this quote running around from jacob anderson where he talks about how historically black people have been removed from period dramas and how, as suggested by the interviewer (w/ blueiight embellishment ofc), the very few times black charas would show up in these period pieces theyd be side characters delegated to a raceblind narratively incoherent plot to placate an audience ashamed with / of the nuances of blackness. i rly like how he said louis’s character represents both a ‘black and very human story about a vampire… [Black people] do not usually have the opportunity to play such complex and fluent characters’. i think that brings to heart a lot of why this show has my heart, as an armchair historian and r.n. (dont ask what that stands for). u racebent characters in a way that coheres, situate ur black characters in a specific context, and the story never deludes us into thinking the mere existence of an interracial relationship is enough to end racism. in e2 louis literally says “fledgling sounds like slave, dont call me that” and e3 starts with louis telling lestat the history of dismembering runaway enslaved ppl & placing their bodies on the gates of of jackson square.. in his initiation to vampirism, louis is moved from the historically Black creole treme area he grew up in & is placed into lestat’s townhome in the very white, french, old quarter. vampirism as hes initiated into is a loving, powerful, cruel, and isolating existence for louis. bc of vampirism he is able to kill a racist person and not be lynched for it, hes able to echo the historical dismemberment on the alderman by placing his body on the st louis cathedral, but he is unable to kill racist groups & systems that initiate race riots. his connection to claudia in s1 is not so much by the oedipal, but by both their connection as lestat’s fledglings and as Black [creole] people placed in a part of the city largely alien to them both. this connection can be broken down even further. louis saw claudia as his joychild of sorts, ‘[his] redemption’ for his 5 years of pimping but a big part of her tragedy is that a child being made into a vampire cannot redeem anyone, much less redeem an individual from what was a historical inevitability. claudia is adopted into such a stature that she wouldve otherwise never reached by virtue of being made a vampire, but even then that is conditional. claudia is rendered inert from being anyone’s ‘wife’ forever trapped in the confines of immaturity as a ‘daughter’, only hoping at best to be louis’s ‘sister’ and isnt that resonant to bw.. she’s selectively infantilized both a child ‘meddling in the affairs of her parents’ , ungrateful, arrogant, and adultified - presumed powerful enough to ‘poison louis against [lestat]’ , taking on the role of louis’s ‘knight in vengeful white black’ .. the response lestat has to claudia is characterized by him continuing the cycle of abuse he once faced toward her and with a black claudia who was once a poor girl now adopted into this immortal luxury it takes on a racialized element. “bach is beyond you” and claudia bites back with “yes this french music is hmm. not made for these mongrel ears”. the absence of metaphor is striking!! literally the fact that this show does not shy away from the era its set in is why its so good.

#yn.#iwtv #louis de pointe du lac #claudia #family from hell #Wait its more than 5 years. whats 5 (mortal) + 7(vampire) years

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fyodorloveclub · 6 months

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DONT YOU UNDERSTAND?

★ pairing: husband!fyodor x reader

★ cw: DARK CONTENT AHEAD!! 18+, MINORS DNI. noncon, drugging, forced breeding, lots of breeding/pregnancy talk, vaginal sex, not enough foreplay, fyodor is evil!!

★ notes: breedtober fic #?? sorry the fics have been coming out so late, thank u for ur patience ily all <3

want more of breedtober?

DISCLAIMER: i do not condone noncon in any way, shape, or form. this is just fiction with no reflection of real life. please refrain from leaving hate comments, and just unfollow/block. or simply scroll away. thank u!

Dizzy – you’re so fucking dizzy. The room is spinning, your vision is dark and fuzzy around the edges, and you have no clue if you’re sitting or standing up currently. Because, worst of all, every part of your body is numb. You can’t move.

All you can see is the normally gentle, sweet face of your lover that’s now marred with an expression one can only describe as evil.

You want to reach out, ask him what’s wrong, what’s happening, but you can’t. All movement and speech have been rendered impossible, due to the teacup that lay shattered on the ground, bathed in the liquid that made you like this.

It was completely normal, a routine at this point, to sit in the living room with Fyodor in front of the lit fireplace sipping tea out of teacups from his beloved collection of fine china. The tea varied – chamomile, earl gray, mint, oolong, just plain green. And the activities often varied as well. Sometimes teasing and laughing over a card game, sometimes long, difficult discussions about the future with stoic faces, and sometimes just comfortable silence. The night before you had been discussing marriage and children. But it was always just you and Fyodor with cups of tea.

This had been a night like every other, though conversation remained at a minimum. Jasmine tea as the fire roared a little hotter than usual. What differed was how the tea started to make you feel. It was slow enough that you wouldn’t push away the cup or become unable to drink the whole serving, but fast enough that once it came on, you couldn’t stop it – it was too late.

And now you lay limp in Fyodor’s arms as he laid you down on the chaise lounge you had been resting on with your cup of tea – the one had fallen to the ground once your strength had started to fade.

“W-wha-” you manage to get out, your vocal cords and lips fighting against whatever was paralyzing them.

“Shhh,” Fyodor soothes, petting your hair as he hovers over you. “This is for the good of our family, my love.”

Your slack face slightly contorts into a look of confusion as your fuzzy mind tries to make sense of his words, barely noticing the way he tugged down your pants until his fingertips circled around your clit lightly. Somehow you could feel that. You attempted to jerk away from the touch, but your body once again failed you.

“Oh, my love, don’t you remember?” he tuts before spitting on his fingers and prodding at your hole. He had little interest in foreplay right now. “Don’t you understand? How you saying you ‘didn’t want kids anymore’ was completely unacceptable.”

It suddenly starts to click, even in your fucked mind. The way Fyodor’s jaw tightened, and smile faded during your discussion last night when you admitted that you didn’t see kids in your future. You had paid little mind to his disappointed “oh”. But clearly, he hadn’t let go.

One finger pushes past your still tight ring of muscle, making you grunt. “In case you don’t, in case the drug has addled your conscience too much, I shall explain.” Another finger sinks in. “We will be having children. At least three, to be exact. You will be getting pregnant, and hopefully tonight.” His fingers pump in and out of you, faster and faster, scissoring apart to stretch you open. “Even if that means rendering you useless and unable to resist me."

Tugging his own pants down, he spits in the palm of his hand before gripping his half-hard cock, pumping it a few times. “I considered just pulling you ass up for easiest access, but I want you to see me – to watch what happens when you disobey my wishes so severely.”

Since you’re completely dead weight, Fyodor has to manually spread your legs wide in order to slot himself between them, his grip tight underneath your knees. Then his lips are on your as he leans over you, the kiss forceful since you’re unable to reciprocate – not that you would’ve anyway.

The leaky tip of his cock as he revels in your inability to fight back is proof that he’s enjoying this immensely, the sick bastard. You want to scream out, thrash against him as his length slides into your cunt in protest of how unfair this is, how he can’t just decide to get you pregnant, but you can’t. You’re completely stuck just… taking it. Until his balls are pressed all the way against your ass, the puff of hair at the base of his cock tickling against your clit.

And somehow, you can feel it on the inside. You can feel the sting and burn as he pushes in and stretches you out, but can also feel… the pleasure. Maybe it’s the way your slack jaw falls open further at his first thrust, your body twitching, but Fyodor can tell. The way your body is forcing you to feel good against your wishes.

You grunt pathetically with every single thrust, legs hanging loosely around his waist and tongue lolling out of your mouth with drool pooling out of the corner. Fyodor is going mad with how much he loves this, how quickly he’s getting off from just using you without your permission. His violet eyes shine fiercely and the sick smirk on his face only grows as he fucks you harder and harder.

"Going to look so pretty pregnant, my beautiful doll,” he coos, massaging the soft fat of your tits. “So round and so full of my babies, so swollen you can barely walk, can’t even see your feet. You’ll need your darling husband’s help to even walk down the stairs,” he babbles, clearly just talking to himself.

“Do you like it, pretty? The way I’m just using you? It turns you on, doesn’t it? You and your body are mine, you know. I own you. And I own the right to use you however I please, to make you whatever I please.”

Of course, Fyodor had always been a bit possessive, always liked to call you his, but never to this caliber. Never to the point where you thought he’d do something like this.

His thrusts get faster and faster with every sick and twisted sentence, and though your hearing was fuzzy too, the wet sounds of skin on skin echoed through the room. Too wet to only just be his precum… were you wet? From what he was doing to you?

The orange light from the roaring fireplace illuminated Fyodor’s face in the most terrifying way, highlighting his sharp features, and igniting his eyes and sweat that had begun dripping down the sides of his face.

He leans in close, whispering into your ear. “Are you ready for my seed, doll? Ready for me to cum so deep inside you your womb is forced to take all of it?”

You’re able to shake your head a bit, and Fyodor clicks his tongue.

“You’re ready because I say so.”

You can’t feel it, but by the way his eyes roll back and his hips stutter, cock throbbing inside you, you can tell he’s cumming. Filling you up with the seed he promised to get you pregnant with.

After pulling out, he kisses you deeply.

“Before we go again, I will fetch you some more tea, my love. It seems you’ve regained some ability to move, and I can’t have that.”

#fyodor smut #fyodor x reader #bsd smut #fyodor x y/n #fyodor x you #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs smut #bsd x y/n

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copepods · 6 months

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🌇 factored-antagonism 🔁 three-pronged-spears Follow

🌫️ three-pronged-spears Follow

DNI if you support Peripherism. It's literally just Slab Mongering but worse and with less effort

#wait peripherism is still a thing?????? #meaning collector point inversions havent been the norm in like 350 years afaik

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💟 pleading-intellect

GUYSSSS my overseer found a clutch of baby green lizards today they're so CUTE

#inty.txt #and BEFORE anyone accuses me of not iterating im literally running 55,458 processes rn

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❇️ string-of-pearls 🔁 rippling-shadows Follow

👤 forspoken-antiquity Follow

hey FYI everyone if you receive an ask about transcendental inversions it's a troll. i've gotten 3 asks in the last cycle

#signal boost!!

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🌁 nineteen-afterthoughts

"ohhh Triangulation is outdated" "ohhh Triangulators dont even factor noise milking into their research theyre a bunch of idiots" im literallu just a little guy im 4 feet tall why do you hate me

⬜️🔁 erratic-pulse

Irrelevant tangents and jokes don't help your case. Triangulationism is simply an objectively moronic take on an already superfluous train of thought. How are you supposed to find the Solution if you can't even properly look for it?

🌁🔁 nineteen-afterthoughts

you literally have Sliverist in your bio but go off

⬜️🔁 erratic-pulse

The minutiae of my theoretical inclinations are irrelevant. Your dogma is blatantly incorrect regardless.

🌁🔁 nineteen-afterthoughts

your group senior and i are raising a family together

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💽 slowly-advancing-mist

a band of scavengers literally just stole my last vat of holy ash thats it im seeking personal ascension

#vent #dont rb

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🚹 untoward-foresight Follow

Anyone else gotten really into Gold Hegemonic epic poetry recently? This one dude Eight Brass Whistles has a bunch of crazy quasi-Regeneratist stuff, it's actually really cool

🎹 east-facing-pillars

wasnt Eight Brass Whistles a heretic???? i heard he refused to shed the 3rd attachment or something like that

🚹 untoward-foresight Follow

Nah that callout post got debunked 533 cycles ago lol

🎹 east-facing-pillars

ahhh ok thanks for clarifying! ill let you know if i find anything :)

#thanks for being polite haha #lesson learned i gotta check this forum more LMAO

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⬜️ erratic-pulse

anonymous asked:

Transcendental Inversion! Transcendental Inversion!

Only someone with a fundamentally false understanding of inversion modes would send this. You can't even do such a thing without sufficient trailing bonds, which entropy renders impossible.

#Why do I always encounter idiots on this pseudonym?

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#rain world #text #5th times the charm???

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kissinkou · 12 days

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COME AND GET IT NOW !

ft. college best friend! choso kamo

cw : kissing. making out. clothed grinding. groping. cursing. mentions of cum. allusions to s3x. whiny, inexperienced choso my beloved :3

you don’t know how, or when, or why this topic of discussion had come up.

what you remember is sitting in your small student dorm room, splayed out over your pink linen sheets and your puffy white duvet. your best friend, choso, is sat on the end with twiddling thumbs as he examines your room as if he had never seen it before.

truth be told, he’s seen it more times than he could count. girly and poster ridden, desk messy with papers from your professor and rainbow highlighters dropped to the floor.

you’re rambling on about your latest failed date, complaining since the moment you had entered your abode with a bounce as you hit your soft mattress.

“ way too much tongue. he was practically slobbering all over me ! and he didn’t even pay for my food. how dumb is that ?! ”

in the corner of your eye, you can see choso’s face screw into a look you can’t decipher. he hums, knee now bouncing up and down with the slightest taps of his foot.

“ cho ? you okay ? ” you ask in confusion, eyebrow quirked up in questioning.

“ what did it feel like ? ” was certainly not the question you were expecting to come from choso’s mouth.

“ uh… whadya mean ? ”

he debates with himself for a few moments, considering whether or not to ask, but he knows you. you’re not going to give up unless he tells you now.

“ yknow… kissing and stuff… ”

if you were surprised before, you’re appalled now. why would a hot college guy be asking you about sex lives ? and he’s your best friend at that. you can see the puzzle pieces forming, until suddenly, it clicks.

“ holy shit cho ! have you never fucked anyone ? or wait… have you even kissed anyone ? ”

choso’s eyes are darting from you to the floor, heat flooding his cheeks at his random outburst of a question.

“ mm… no… not really… ”

you’re rendered absolutely speechless at this new information bestowed upon you. your best friend of many years, who just so happens to be quite the attractive guy, hasn’t even had his face sucked ? you couldn’t help but giggle in either shock or pure humor, and choso’s face is almost burning red.

“ w-what the fuck ! that’s crazy, you’ve gotta be kidding me ! ” you start, laughter dying down at the pout that takes over his lips. “ sorry… sorry. uh, so you want me to tell you about it ? ”

you can see the sudden glint that takes over choso’s brown eyes, mustering up the courage to ask the question that’s been eating him alive day in and day out.

“ … could you teach me instead ? please… ”

———

that’s how you ended up here, you and your best friend laying on your bed, stripped of any innocence that could be left lingering between you two.

your legs straddle his waist, and his bulge is evidently growing underneath you. his hands are shaky, carefully leaving featherlight touches at the skin of your hip in nervousness.

“ um… so just close your eyes… and follow what i do okay… ? ”

the gulp choso takes makes his adams apple bob, eyes closing at your intstruction. you lean in, hot breath fanning over his face in the briefest moment of hesitation. his heart is pounding, and you aren’t exactly sure why, but yours is too.

you dont hold yourself back when you mold your lips against his, feeling him stiffen under you at the sudden feeling of your kiss. you move your lips again, and he follows, kissing over and over with your lead. you hold the reigns when you dart your tounge out to lick over his bottom lip, him opening his mouth to let you in.

the longer you two make out, the more confident you both are becoming. your hands travel from his arms to his chest, touching in areas you never thought you would in your lifetime. his hands move from your hips, lower and lower before just barely hovering against your ass. he’s shy.

breaking apart the kiss for only a moment to whisper into his mouth, “ it’s okay cho… i want you to touch me. ”

that’s all the conformation he needs to give in to the desires he’s had for who knows how long, squeezing and groping at you like his life depends on it. the kisses you share grow needy, searing hot with the tingles that travel from your feet up to the top of your spine.

choso softens into a whimpering mess, bucking his hips the more heated things get. you’re devouring eachother, hungry and feverish with the sucks and bites that has you grinding back onto choso’s hardened tent in his pants.

“ f-fuck ! am i doing good ? please… please touch me. i want more. ” is what choso whines out, grinding his hips back into yours, desperate for any attention you can give him.

clothed and feverous, the sway of your hips has you both whining and moaning into eachothers mouths. you’re sure if you both kept going, choso just might cum in his pants.

“ ah!— cho… ” you start, voice dripping in desire with the pretentious touches you leave on the man you call out for,

“ want me to teach you how to fuck a girl, too ? ”

©KISSINKOU — do not copy, steal, plagiarize, take inspo from without consulting, or translate my work.

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seattlesellie · 11 months

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color me ♡

pairing: ellie williams x reader

warnings: pure smut, rough sex, breeding strap, fake cum swallowing, ass play, maybe a lil gross but 🤍

authors note: so i dont know whats actually inside those breeding straps and if its not actually safe to digest… sorry! obvs based on an old one of mine n @elskittie important server discussions <3

"El Ellie, Ellie — Ah!" was the only repeating sentence that left you whiney mouth for the past seven minutes. Ellie was quick with it, brutal, even. The sharp pain of her strap's ongoing strokes and thrusts rendering you borderline unconscious. You liked being like this, didn't you? her personal rag doll, being thrown around for her pleasure.

She wasn't afraid of telling you how much you liked it, either. Ellie loved basking in your neediness for her, in how dumb you looked when she fucked you senseless. Each resounding slap against your flesh, and every firm tug of her fist on your hair served as a vivid affirmation of her power over you. "You fucking like that? huh?" she gasped in amidst the rhythmic thrusts. You could feel her in your tummy, feel her stinging inside of your brain. "Like being like this f'me? yeah?" she was panting like an animal, you could feel how close she was by the way she was swallowing her words. Her voice was hoarse, and she struggled to maintain her composure, almost falling apart right there with you. Slap! you were on all fours now, face shoved in the soft, cream colored pillow, ass shamelessly spread completely open. You felt vulnerable, like she could see everything. Ellie wasn't always like this, see, she loved taking her time. Caressing you, giving you tiny pecks everywhere around your body, like little butterflies landing on your skin. Today wasn't like this. “Get on the bed" she commanded after getting back from a three day hunt. You knew it by the flare in her eyes, by the way she couldn't look at you directly. Whatever happened there was between her and herself only. Oh, how Ellie loved how you looked. "Pretty asshole too, huh?" She panted, her thumb gently tracing circles around the perimeter of your clenched entrance. "So fucking—" she growled, and stuck her thumb inside, leaving a stinging pain ringing inside of your body. Twisting it in slow circles, it's deliberate, controlled movements akin to a meticulously driven screw, twisting slowly, intensifying the sensation with each revolution. "So fucking tight everywhere" she marveled. You couldn't even respond, drool cascaded onto the rumpled sheets beneath you. You were whimpering, screaming, god, she had effortlessly coaxed three mind-shattering orgasms from your trembling form. You could have passed out already, you could have been laying on her chest, listening to her soft breathing by now. But this truly, wasn't about you. With a forceful strike, she gave your ass another harsh slap. It morphed into a deep shade akin to a bruised blue. "Pretty" she panted. You were mumbling incoherently, a mixture of "thank you Ellie" and "for you, Ellie". You wanted to ask her — "You really think I'm pretty?" "Am I yours forever? You making me yours?" but goddamn, you were too fucked out to function. She slipped her other thumb inside your tightest hole, as if her other one wasn't enough. The overwhelming sensation caused your vision to blur with celestial bursts, your voice erupting in a symphony of screams and desperate pleas that reached the heavens themselves. "Ellieeeee — too tight!" you babbled. She plunged it deeper with a cocky grin. That action drove you to instinctively fight against her grip, your hands frantically clawing at the fabric of the sheets, seeking a desperate anchor to reality. She formed a tight fist around your hair, yanked it, and pulled you by gripping her fingers tight on your ass. Don't you dare.

"Don't you fucking run away from me" she grunted, and kept her grip on your waist.

"Stay" she commanded, and you did. Her desperate grunts and the fact that she reached that little spot, that spot no one else ever did, made your stomach tie in tight knots. You were fucking close, too. And she knew it. Who knows you better than her? "Gonna let me fucking use you" she growled, "Gonna let me fucking cum inside of you?” she told, her breath hot and unsteady against your neck. And then, it was as if a cartoonish light bulb appeared over your head. You smiled dumbly to yourself. You really are fucking nasty. "In my mouth" you hiccuped. Her hand left your plump ass, and started forming small, harsh circles on your clit. She was flabbergasted, her strokes slowing down. "In your what?" she questioned, her voice deep. "Want you to cum on my face" you stated. Simple as that. Ellie laughed, she laughed at you. "You're fucking nasty, you know that? she teased, the faint sensation of her smile pressed against your shoulder conveyed the delight she derived from your desires. Those words could have made her come on the spot. "Get on your knees" she commanded, and pulled the plastic cock out of you with a deep, breathy grunt. You clenched, feeling utterly empty without her deep inside. You pouted with a small "mhm". Ellie gave you a stern look. It was so, so clear how hard she was controlling herself, her own clit throbbing and begging for release. "You wanted this" she said, and squeezed your plump cheeks together. She almost forced you to open your mouth, stick your tongue out in order to directly spin on you, but you wanted something much, much more disgusting. It was an ego trip for her, truly. She yanked you down, and got you to get on your knees with a loud thump. That was going to leave a bruise. Oh, how you weren't expecting Ellie's next step. She grabbed the large silicone shaft in her hands, an pinched your chin, to get you to look at her. Ellie had her eyes fixated on you, entranced. You looked pathetic, sticky drool on your chin, thighs covered in your own release. Her look was piercing through you. She caressed your cheek delicately, calloused hand grazing your skin. She was going to burn this moment in her memory. If she could, she would have taken a picture — but this was still an apocalypse, and she got ever so lucky from just finding the obscene sexy toy during one of her patrols. She took the base of the cock, and began grinding in on her own clit. If she was going to cum on your face, it had to be the real fucking deal. "Ohhh god — shit" She moaned deeply, never once leaving your eyes. You felt your own clit throbbing, a swarm of butterflies buzzing in your stomach. You trailed your hand down and began forming slow circles on your clit, still wet, still deliciously creamy. She bit her lower lip. She would have scolded you for your desperate actions, how dare you touch yourself when she's right there — but thankfully, she knew you just couldn't help it. Breathy, high pitched moans were escaping her mouth, she really was fucking close, rubbing it all over her wet cunt. "Don't you fucking look away from me" she commanded, swallowing her own words. “Don't you dare." The shaft's movements on her cunt were deeper now, faster, the base hitting her puffy button just right, pressing on it. Her eyes rolled back in pleasure, almost fucking there. "Gonna cum" she panted. "Stick that fucking tongue out - Fuck — stick it out" her eyebrows were squinted together, jeez, how you loved her fuck-face. She was full on whimpering your name, hand wrapped around your scalp. She shook the strap up and down on her glistening slit.

It was a marvelous look, my god.

She could feel the white colored pleasure taking over, and almost instinctively, as if it was truly connected to her, grabbed the balls of the strap, squeezed them hard, and as she rode her orgasm - the white, thick, creamy liquid squeezed out of the tip of her cock, splashing all over your warm, eager tongue, and then all over your face. "Holy— fucking— shit" she moaned, riding it out, marveling in how much of a fucking whore you looked like, covered in cream. She was delirious, almost, because she swore it felt like it came out of her own cunt.

Unsurprisingly, who would have thought, you came all over your fingers. Ellie laughed, again, astonished, panting and grunting obscenities.

"You fucking — " she gulped, and rubbed the liquid all over your tongue with her fingers. tracing it up down, swirling it all over your mouth. "Swallow it" she commanded, hypnotized by your pathetic look.

"Cumslut" she whispered in disbelief.

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x you #wlw #ellie tlou #ellie williams x female reader

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catcze · 5 months

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oh btw i know that a werewolf is a pretty obvious pick for your newest man but he does look like he'd make for a great vampire who has to actively resist the urge to feed on you because "your blood is... so sweet... and you're so... enticing... just a taste, please..."

or not! who knows ehe <3

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

「 CWS : 」 A little suggestive due to the intimate nature of blood drinking, but nothing sexual or even leading up to any sexual activity happens. That being said, if ur bothered by Wrio finding the reader tasting delicious + Reader enjoying being drank from a lot, maybe dont read;;; this is 2k words of non-sexual intimacy and love and trust !!

I have a confession;;;; I really really really love the vampire x human trope,,,,,, even just a teeny tiny bit more than I do the werewolf x human trope,,,, so,,,,, SO,,,,,,,,,, vamp! Wrio is setting all kinds of good signals off in my brain rn;;;;;;; i have;;;;;; many;;;;; many thoughts;;;; ON MY HANDS AND KNEES DONT LET THIS FLOP PLS 💔💔💔

You're on his lap. Wriothesley's on his chair, hands practically clawing into the armrests. You wouldn't be surprised if he'd rip it. His eyes don't know where to look— they flit around every inch of his office, avoiding your own. But they always end up glancing back at your neck no matter how much he tries to pry them away.

He gulps.

"You're hungry."

"I'm not," he immediately denies, ignoring the way his fangs ache at just being able to smell your blood so close.

You frown. "You haven't eaten in a week, Wrio."

"I have—"

"Animal blood doesn't count. That shit can only work for so long, and you know it."

He swallows, hands clenching even tighter, nails digging into leather armrests. He looks away from you, rendered silent.

You watch him as how he tries to ignore you. Delicately, you place a hand on his cheek, urging his eyes back to meet yours.

"Why don't you just ask me?" You murmur. "You know I'd say yes. You know I'd do anything for you."

His face twists. "That's the problem," Wriothesley says bitterly, teeth clenched. Even from here, from the limited view you have past the curl of his lip, you see how his sharp fangs gleam. "I— if I drink from you, I won't want anything else. Ever. I already have a hard enough time just being around you, but if i get even just a taste..." he trails off, swallowing. "You're all I'm going to crave, sweetheart."

Wriothesley expects you to pause or hesitate. Maybe even extract yourself from him. He wouldn't blame you. Ever since the first time his thoughts betrayed him and he wondered what you'd taste like on his tongue (honey and nectar and heaven and ambrosia, all in one) he's been so careful to hide how he hungers for you, lest you think he's a monster who'd hurt you for his own gain.

In an ideal world, you never would have had to see him like this— starving, thirsting. Every single cell in his body urging him to get on his knees and beg you for just a taste. He'd get the fear and the apprehension, even though it'd crack a little piece of his cold, unbeating heart.

But you just roll your eyes and unbutton the collar of your shirt. leaning down so the side of your neck is right within his sight. His mouth dries as the thump of your pulse comes ever closer, freezing him in place.

"You're not going to hurt me," you say, conviction in your voice. You inch closer.

Wriothesley feels another part of his self restraint collapse.

Against his better judgement, he's actually thinking about it now. He crumbled so fast that it might be a little pathetic, he knows. Maybe his mind is addled from the hunger, maybe he's addled by his hunger for you, but he knows that he's fraying with every millisecond that you spend so close.

"No, not— not there," He protests quietly, even though he's itching to reach out and sink his teeth into your pulse. Fuck, you smell delicious up close. He's damn near losing his mind here, the object of his love and the greatest temptation to his gluttony practically sitting on his lap, offering up something that he's craved for so long. Still, he gathers what bits and pieces of his restraint that he can and manages to gently nudge you back, just enough that he can think without being driven mad by the idea of his mouth on your neck.

The protest is already ready on your tongue, but he takes a gentle hold of your wrist instead, pressing a kiss to the tips of each finger. His thumb rubs gentle circles into the skin, and the pulse under his fingers makes the emptiness in his stomach increases tenfold.

"Here," he tells you. "It'll be easier to push me away if you need to."

You say nod, pushing your wrist closer to his mouth. "Drink up," you tell him. He pushes away his hesitation, and with one last lingering kiss, he presses his mouth to your wrist and bites.

And fuck, he was right.

Heaven and sunlight and euphoria bursts on his tongue, making his brain practically short circuit. Wriothesley concludes then and there that compared to you, anything and everything else he's ever tasted was bland in comparison. He can barely even attempt to describe it— with each drop you willingly give, his hunger is both sated and amplified. A sound escapes him, a mix between a groan and a whimper muffled into your skin.

When you hum, warm fingers carding through his hair and urging him to take more, he feels like he ascends. Acting on instinct, his arm snakes around your middle to hold you in place— to keep you close. His grip on you is firm, but he's careful not to dig his fingers too hard into your skin.

And as much as this is affecting him, it's affecting you too. Your head grows light in the best way possible, like you're experiencing a euphoric high. You scratch a bit harder at his scalp, pulling a desperate noise from his lips that makes you tremble in his hold. You'll sit here for as long as he needs to feel better, for as long as he needs you.

Quicker than you would have wanted, Wriothesley reluctantly pulls away. By then the color's only just started to come back to his face and he's panting like he's been on a brisk jog. He looks much less sickly, yes, but you observe with a frown that he's still not quite yet at tip-top shape.

Hesitantly, almost reverently, he presses a kiss to the wound on your wrist, then gives the smallest of licks. it tingles, but after a moment the sting of it fades to a dull throb, and then nothing. But before he can push you off, you're leaning down again, same position as before, with your neck in his line of view. An open invitation.

"You need to drink more," you murmur. You try to ignore the rush of blood in your face, the tingle in your core. For as much as he was scared of getting addicted to you, you fear now you're getting addicted to him, too.

"I shouldn't," Wriothesley says, barely above a whisper.

He should push you off— should let you rest. Should wrap you in his coat and get you some water and a snack after you've already let him drink so much of you.

It had been hard enough to resist earlier, but now? Your blood is pumping so hard he can practically hear it. And you taste so sweet. You had made the slightest of noises when he fed on you— he doubts you even realized it, what with the haze you were in. Just the smallest of whines when he drank from your wrist, but each breathy sigh and whisper of his name was enough to make him crave more.

A small, traitorous corner of his mind wonders if you'd be even more vocal with his teeth on your neck.

He swallows, knowing he's already fighting a losing battle. He's so, so weak for you. His one arm doesn't budge from around your waist, but his hand moves up to cup your cheek. He drags your eyes to meet his, and you can see the seriousness amidst the hunger.

"You tell me if anything hurts." Wriothesley's arm around you tightens almost imperceptibly. "Anything. Please."

You hum, happy, nuzzling closer into the cradle of his grip. "Okay. I know you'll stop if I ask." And oh the faith you have in him has heat pooling in his gut and a foreign pressure grow behind his eyes.

His voice is hoarse he says, "Yeah sweetheart. Of course I will."

He comes close and you shift your head, giving him more space to work. First thing he does isn't even bite— he buries his nose in the crook of your neck, decorating your skin with kisses and licks and nips, delighting in the small protest of 'that tickles!' that he elicits from you.

You let him shower you in affection a little bit more, but eventually your hand works into his hair, tugging. "Okay, no more stalling," you say, breathless. "C'mon, time to eat."

And he's still nervous of taking too much— can feel his stomach roil at just the thought of hurting you, but he trusts you. Trusts you as much as you trust him, too. So he takes another deep breath, presses one last tender kiss to your skin, and sinks his teeth into your neck.

A small whisper of him name escapes our throat just as a groan leaves him because fuck— you taste even better. Flavor multiplied times what feels like a hundred, making his cold cold heart do flips and tricks in his chest. The hand you bury in his hair tugs, pulls, but brings him closer instead of away. You push him further into you, begging him to take more, and he happily obliges.

Wriothesley presses kisses and licks to your neck between drinking down mouthfuls, making sure not to waste a single drop. He's pulling you against his chest so tightly— hand bunched in the back of your top that you fear he might rip the fabric, but you decide that you don't really care if he does.

With each drink he takes, each satisfied, muffled noise that leaves him, you feel yourself melt more and more against him until you're boneless in his hold. Despite how he drinks as if it's his last, he still has the good mind to shift you a bit higher in his lap, to make sure he's holding you comfortably. His hand rubs soothing circles into your hip, and he tries to recline back into his seat as much as he can so you can lean into him.

Your heart pounds even harder, the blood rushing to your ears, and you think he feels it with the way his hunger seems to double.

Your eyes are half-lidded, gaze hazy and growing sleepy with each progressive second. But it doesn't hurt in the slightest. You feel warm, if anything— warm and happy that you were able to help him, and make sure he's well.

He's slowing a little. His hunger finally abating and making way for something more tender and soft. You scratch his scalp lovingly and lean your head against his. A sweet, sleepy kiss pressed to his temple makes his pace falter.

Wriothesley soon separates himself from your neck, pressing a kiss and a kitten lick to your newest wound. Like the one on your wrist, it tingles for just a bit before any stinging or pain vanishes entirely.

"Hey baby," he murmurs, pulling away slightly to look at your face, but making sure his arm is still wrapped around you. To keep you steady, to remind you that he's here. He smiles a little at your happy, dazed expression, but even now you can see the lingering worry. "You with me?"

You respond with a hum, nodding as best as you can. "Yeah. 'm okay."

Wriothesley laughs a little, watching you stumble over your words. He lets you fall flat against his chest with you head hanging on his shoulder and cradles you against him. One hand goes to twine your fingers with his, desperate to hold you as much as he can, and the other snugly tucks your head under his chin. In his embrace, you feel the beat of your heart gradually slow back to a calm. It leaves you boneless and tired, the crash of it all finally hitting you and making your eyelids flutter.

"That's good." You can feel the rumble of his voice in his chest. "Did anything hurt at all, honey?"

You shake your head. Too tired to look up at him, so you squeeze his hand instead. A kiss is pressed to the apple of his throat. "Nothing. I'm just tired, 's all. I'm fine."

He holds you closer, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak. "Yeah. Yeah, that's good. Thank you, my love. Let's get you something to eat and drink, then we sleep— how does that sound?"

You just hum your agreement, limbs feeling heavier and heavier with each passing second. Wriothesley places a kiss to the crown of your head. With utmost gentleness, he cradles you in his arms as he stands, trying not to jostle you as he makes his way out of the room.

"I love you, sweetheart," he murmurs, heart growing three sizes in his chest, arms full of the most precious thing in his world.

You bury yourself further into him. "Love you more, Wrio."

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jamespottersdaisy · 1 year

Text

Red.

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

"I'd rather not see you at all."

"You'd miss me."

based on a request.

warnings: banter, probably fluff, my writing

8.1k

author's note: i dont know how i feel about this but enjoy. english is not my first language so beware <3

You stood on your feet, staring dead into the brown eyes before you. You weren't even aware of your frown, but you were sure you didn't look happy. His mocking eyes were eliciting you, sending waves of rage down your chest.

"How about you two sit together?" James asked, smiling with his eyes.

You reminded yourself that your anger wasn't aimed at James but rather at his tall and vexatious friend. Thus, instead of snapping at him, you sent him a mere warning glare.

"Or you can just fight. That'll work," James shrugged and turned around.

Your eyes averted back to Remus, who had slouched behind your desk–the same desk you had been sitting behind for years.

"That is my seat, Lupin."

He didn't budge at all, keeping on staring at you.

"I didn't see your name on it."

You pinched the bridge of your nose. This boy was going to be the end of you.

"Remus," you said, "I've sat there last year and the year before that, please go find yourself another desk."

"It's a new school year, though, is it not? Make a change."

He must be testing your patience, which was at its limit. The lesson was about to start and yet you were still on your feet.

You blamed Remus for that.

The desk he had been resting behind was yours. You didn't need to write your name on it, everyone knew it was yours. For six years of Transfiguration, you had been sitting there, listening or sometimes disturbing the class with James and Sirius. It had a nice view of the board and could hide you well if needed.

Thus, you had always sat behind Pads and Prongs while Remus sat…

Well, you didn't know where he sat, but it was definitely not next to you.

"Miss Y/L/N, sit down please."

You closed your eyes for a moment when you heard Professor McGonagall's stern tone. With a quick glance around, it was obvious that you were the only one standing. So after a sharp exhale, you sat down next to Remus.

"Wanker."

Remus let out a derisive hum.

This. This was what would drive you crazy. This was what would make you want to strangle the boy, burn the body and get away with murder. That mocking, jeering and pleased hum.

James and Sirius would always tease you for not getting along with one person that anyone could get along with. Always fighting and bantering with one person that anyone could have a proper conversation with.

The problem was that they weren't exactly wrong.

You always witnessed how Remus was kind and gentle with everyone, rendering it absolutely impossible to bicker with him. He would smile and nod, easing his way out of every dilemma. He wouldn't pick a fight, and certainly wouldn't provoke anyone.

Except you.

With you, he was acting like a moronic person. Or that's what you thought.

When you were little, he would pull your braids in the mornings, but would mumble a quick 'I liked your hair today' in the evenings.

When you were famished for breakfast, he would grab the last waffle before you could, leaving you frowning with an aching hunger, but then leave bars of chocolate on your books during class breaks.

When you would be studying with the Marauders and couldn't cast a spell, he would smirk and mock your ineptness but would seek you out before the exam and explain how to move your wrist better than any professor could.

He would never disrespect you, but wouldn't let you stay sane throughout the day, either.

Lost between his inconsistent behaviours, you would find yourself confused, overthinking every tiny interaction to fathom if he cared for you or not. You would often decide on the latter.

For the sake of the other boys, you would ignore his gall and cheekiness. Although you had moments of outbursts, which would eventually lead to a bigger fight, you had managed to keep the problem under control so far.

"Miss, Y/L/N?"

You jerked your head up, finding the source of your name. McGonagall was piercing through you with her icy eyes, almost judging you for not listening, without voicing anything.

"Yes, professor?"

"Answer the question."

What question?

She asked a question?

You parted your lips, shuffling useless facts or overlooked memories in your mind to stumble upon the right one.

You felt one second drew out to one minute, or maybe it was simply your anxiety. Embarrassment was making its way under your skin with every second- or minute?

You were starting to sweat as your body was on fire.

"Levicorpus," Remus whispered under his mouth.

Not wasting a second, you repeated the word, earning a nod from the Professor. She turned away, carrying on with the lesson.

"What was the question?" you asked the boy. He didn’t bother to look at you.

"Pay attention next time."

“James, it’s a terrible, horrible, and incredibly foolish idea.”

You were dawdling around in the yard, enjoying the weather while you could. With the chill breeze mingling around your hair, nothing could ruin your peace. That is until the Marauders entered the scene.

“Exactly. That’s why we should do it.”

Being friends with James and Sirius was hard, especially if you’re the only one with common sense. Who would believe making a firework explosion in the middle of the Great Hall would earn them a ball to celebrate Christmas?

James and Sirius.

“We need to call Dumbledore’s attention. Bring it right up to the headmaster, or it won’t work,” Sirius backed up his friend. You ignored Remus’s scoff-like laugh.

“Your worry is that if you bomb up the Great Hall in front of any other professor except Dumbledore you won’t get a ball?”

“See, now you’re getting it-”

“What makes you think you will get a ball?”

James stopped walking, put his hands on each side of his waist in disappointment, and frowned.

“Now, you’re just repeating Moony.”

You glanced at Remus, who was staring at you with blank and tired eyes. This boy really needed to sleep, but that was another day’s problem. Your eyes lingered a bit longer on his attire before returning to James; tawny jumper with black lines and ivory trousers under a pastel orange trench coat.

“Rare moment of your Moony using his common sense,” you shrugged. “You know you’ll get a huge detention, right?”

“What else is new?” James smirked. “Are you gonna help us?”

The prospect of a ball during Christmas did entertain you. Fancy dresses and music, all while carousing with your friends was something no teenager would reject. And you knew if things wouldn’t go as planned, Marauders wouldn’t acknowledge your involvement; that was an agreement between the four boys even Remus had honoured. So you agreed to help them.

They made you regret it a few moments later in the Gryffindor common room.

“I’m not working with Remus.” you shook your head intently, wearing a displeased expression.

“Oh come on! Why not?” James pleaded. “You two are the best at Charms! You just need to figure out how to charm the fireworks to act how we want them to. Pete will get them and hide them, while Pads and I will handle transforming them into letters.”

“Because last time we worked on something together, it blew right in our faces.” you point at Remus with your hand. “I got zero when I could’ve got the best point available.”

“Wasn’t the potion perfect? Professor gave you a zero because you wouldn’t stop bickering,” Peter said. “It was very distracting.”

You cringed at the memory. Your hard work had held no value only for a little (or not so little) quarrel with your partner. The only nice outcome was that they rarely partnered you two together anymore.

Remus was slouched on the couch, legs apart with one hand placed on his thigh, while the other held a book. He lowered his book to look at your discontented face.

“I’m not happy about it either, yet you don’t see me whinging.”

You winced at him in aversion.

“I’d rather not see you at all.”

“You’d miss me,” he tilted his head, wearing a feigned smile.

James clapped his hands to prevent another incoming tiff.

“Alright, you two will start your research when you see fit and keep us updated. Don’t drag it out until November though, it’s a bit of a complicated matter.”

By the time a month had passed, you had figured that irritation was like a bunch of thorns piercing through your skin thanks to Remus. You had also learned that you can murder someone by spoon, but why would anyone bother themselves with shoving the spoon down Remus’s throat?

Therefore, you had been sitting with Remus every week, halting yourself from stabbing him with your quill. He wasn’t helping you out at all.

“Stop hitting my arm,” you whisper-shouted once more. Was Remus Lupin thick-headed? He didn’t look like it, so he probably just enjoyed getting a reaction out of you.

“What is your arm’s business next to mine? Sit properly.”

“Remus, If you haven’t noticed, you’re tall–”

“Thank you.”

“I didn’t mean it as a compliment, shut up,” your head snapped in his direction, facing his smug grin. “You’re taking much more space than me.”

“Well, sorry for you.”

“You’re distracting me from my studies.”

“You’re doodling right now,” he pointed to the paper before you with his brows. “And miserably failing, if I may add.”

“No, you may not–”

“Is that supposed to be a rabbit?” he inclined his head an inch more to the paper. You smelled his shampoo from his hair, crisp and woodsy and; the brown locks were so close you wanted to run your hand through them to see if they were real.

“That’s clearly a cat.”

“Why does your cat have two paws?”

“She’s sitting!”

“You really suck at this,” he propped his head back, offering you a pitiful look.

“Oh, and you’re rocking?”

“Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Y/L/N,” you flinched at your name from McGonagall.

“But professor, Lupin–”

“One more distraction and I will make it twenty.”

You clenched your jaw shut and lowered your head, letting embarrassment swallow you whole as all Gryffindor students sent you scrutinising glares. Of course, you would be the unlucky one that would get picked by the professor, not Remus, who was provoking you in the first place.

So, until the end of the class, you kept your head low and zoned out with your doodles.

You drew a circle, but it was more like a sun in your mind. Or the moon. You didn’t remember.

You drew ears for the moon, and it seemed like two triangles stuck to a circle, but you didn’t mind that either.

You even took some notes of the lesson but then you scribbled something that’s supposed to be a lamp or a cactus on them, so they weren’t very readable in the end.

You only snapped out of it when the unusual noise rioted, signalling that the class was dismissed. You had spent an hour doing nothing; an amazing use of time.

Remus pushed a parchment on your art pieces, covering them. You didn’t see what was scrawled on the parchment as Remus’s hand had blocked the ink.

“I do rock,” he said before heading out of the classroom.

You stared after him as he disappeared behind the door. You thought he would be in the library as you lifted the parchment.

It was a sketch of you from the side.

You took the red velvet cookie in your hand, examining it for any trace of poison. They seemed perfectly fine, delicious even. What was troubling you was that they were a treat from James. Thus, there was no way you could get good-looking, appetising, tasty cookies without a headache.

“Have you two started your research?”

That was it. You had a headache.

Therefore, you deserved the cookies. You took three of them in your hand and threw yourself next to Sirius. You turned to lock eyes with Remus, all while nibbling on your sweet.

You noticed him looking at you and then your hands and then...your lips? You immediately pushed the thought deep into your mind, not indulging it even a second. No, he was probably staring at the cookie next to your lips.

Unconsciously, you put the sweet down and arched a brow at him.

“Not yet,” he said without breaking eye contact with you.

You heard James groan and used it as an excuse to avert your eyes, but you could still feel his brown gaze set your body aflame. You couldn’t quite figure out if it was his hatred or something else that you refused to voice that was burning through you. You didn’t dwell on it.

“You’re waiting for Christmas Eve to do it?”

“Prongs is right, Pick a time and do your homework, lads,” Sirius agreed. “Pete is done already.”

“It’s hard to mentally prepare yourself for Remus,” you said, mouth half full.

“Don’t talk your mouth full, it’s disgusting.”

“You haven’t seen yourself eating, have you?”

“Here we go again,” James complained. “Just go to the bloody library and find the spells, will ya?”

Remus stood up, and strode up next to you, towering over you. You stared at him like he was a crazy person, which he was in your opinion.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“Now?”

“Yes, you have things to do?”

You didn’t have things to do. In fact, your only to-do list for today was eating red velvet cookies. That’s why you didn’t know why you were hesitant to go and be alone with Remus. You didn’t know why your heart started to pick a race, either.

“I’m…” You looked around, seeking an excuse that you knew didn’t exist. “Eating cookies?”

Remus grabbed the cookie jar. “You’ll eat them on our way to the library.”

All four boys were looking at you expectantly, so you hopped on your feet. You didn’t bother to take the jar from Remus.

“Don’t sulk, Y/N, it’s for the greater good!” You heard Sirius call after you.

You exited the common room, went down the stairs and hastened to the library. You didn’t look back for Remus; you knew he was there. You could feel his presence.

You didn’t question how he had managed to get the cookie jar in when you entered the library and he placed it on a table. You simply turned to the books, chasing their titles with your finger.

“What are we exactly looking for?”

“Something that will charm the fireworks to act how we want,” Remus mumbled, too focused on the book titles. You noticed him examining the shelves that you had passed because of your height. It both irritated and tingled you the way he effortlessly could reach the top shelves.

“And how do we want them to act?”

“Fly around in order, not the way they fly around usually.”

You hummed and didn’t engage in anything more. Taking a cookie from the jar, you started reading and digging into all sorts of books.

How to charm your brush to comb your hair?

Not the one you've been looking for but sounded nice, you should look it up some other time.

Charms to take revenge on the ones that wronged you.

Would Remus get suspicious if you picked that one? You should look that one up too, next time.

Charms for cheating in the exam.

Why did a school shelter a book like this?

Charms for celebrations.

You smiled, looking up at the red-covered book. If there was a celebration, then there certainly would be fireworks.

You stretched out your hand to take the book, but your fingers only brushed its spine.

You climbed on your tiptoes, trying again. This time you could feel the engraved title letters on the spine. But other than that, to no avail.

A heft and warmth, that didn’t belong to you, stroke your body. Your skin reacted faster than you did. You felt the surge of an unfamiliar heat and shivers under your skin, unable to fathom the hand on your hand.

You turned your head back, almost bumping it into Remus's chin. He wasn't looking at you, but you could see his clenched jaw and stiffened shoulders. The close proximity was suffocating, or maybe your breath had hitched. Either way, you held your breath.

Remus grabbed the red book, stepped back and started skimming it.

"You're starting,” he said.

It took you longer than usual to react to him.

"I found the book first," you said after recovering from the sudden and uncharacteristic surge of heat. You hoped your face wasn't flustered.

"Why didn't you take it first then?"

He was mocking your height difference, and it didn’t annoy you this time. It did, however, make you conscious of your heart’s rhythm.

"I was close. You interrupted me."

Remus looked up from the book, a teasing smile gleaming on his lips.

"The only thing you were close to was hitting your head on the shelf."

You frown, being absolutely free of his previous effect on you. You snatched the book out of his hand and sat behind the table. You didn't raise your head when Remus stood in front of you and over your head, with his arms placed on the table.

You focused on the ink, forgetting Remus’s suffocating presence. That’s why you didn’t want to be left alone with him.

After a few minutes and lines or pages, your eyes twinkled with mischief. Two pages of instruction on different ways of charming fireworks.

"Found it."

The easy part was done.

You let Remus take the book from you. He read the page with a wrinkle between his brows and nodded after finishing it.

“We’ll have to start practising it soon.”

“Have some pity, I exceeded my weekly tolerance of you, today,” you murmured. “I can’t spend any more time with you.”

“And what made you think that I enjoyed our time together?” Remus stepped a bit back and leaned into a shelf.

You parted your lips and then closed them again. Time had gone rather unproblematic with Remus today, and ended without a headache. It was almost...boring.

“You never even once did something to annoy me.”

His lips curved, eyes gleaming in amusement.

“Do you want me to annoy you?”

You hated the teasing in his tone. Something between confusion and disclosure hit you in the gut, goosebumps rose in your arm as a response to your fluttering heart.

“What? No, why would I–”

“Do you enjoy bickering with me, Y/N?”

“I don’t!"

“You sure? Sometimes it sounds like you’re picking fights with me on purpose.”

“You flatter yourself, Lupin,” you laughed, a bit awkwardly. He was smiling now, one step away from smirking. You noticed you rarely saw him smile this big around you. It was beautiful.

“Just like you said, I wasn’t the one annoying you today. You started it.”

You felt the temperature rise in your body, embracing you without your consent. You didn’t appreciate the way he threw the accusations at you or the way his eyes wrinkled adorably when he beamed.

“You’re not the only one hating the other.”

Your lips uttered the words but you didn’t hear yourself. You were too busy to stare at his changing expressions. His smile ebbed a little, but not enough to wipe the soft wrinkles around his eyes. He walked up to you, excruciatingly slow, looming over you. You watched his eyes rambling between your eyes, and even travelling to your lips, too. Your eyes, however, stayed only on the brown orbs, sorting out every layer, every colour, every blemish one by one.

“I don’t hate you,” you heard him drawl.

Before you could take in what he murmured, his face changed into something else. You fathomed it from the twitch in his jaw and his faltering blinks.

“You’re just annoying,” he said as if recovering his tone.

He stepped back, eyes lingering on your lips for one more second before turning away. You bit down your lips as you watched him exit the library.

“I brought candles,” you announced, tossing the candles to the wooden floor. They made an uncomfortably loud thud on the ground, causing you to grimace in displeasure.

“Yes, please make sure to break all of them. Don’t leave one unharmed,” you rolled your eyes at Remus’s cynical voice in the other corner of the Requirement Room.

You two have been visiting there to learn the charm of the fireworks every week. For two weeks, you had been working with the sticks and had mastered them. Thus, it was time to finally alter the sticks with candles, something that resembled a firework according to Sirius. They didn’t want to work on fireworks, it would be a waste for James.

“They’re fine. Don’t be dramatic,” you said to him as he walked up to you, glancing at the candles on the floor.

You felt him squat down, grabbing a white candle. He showed you a crack on it that wasn’t there before.

“It was there before.”

“Yeah, sure,” he grinned. “What’s with the colours?”

You shrugged. Why choose only white candles when you could have red and yellow and purple and pink also?

“Don’t mind the colours. Let’s start.”

Remus lit a candle as you took out your wand. He placed it on a chair, and stepped back, waiting for you to cast the spell.

When you first muttered the incantation, nothing happened.

You tried again, this time more fiercely both in your spelling and movements.

Nothing happened, The candle was sitting on the chair, mocking you with its flame. You were sure Remus was also repeating the same internally.

“You’re too hesitant to bend your wrist,” he said.

You didn’t hear any teasing in his voice but still cringed in embarrassment.

“You won’t put out the candle if you bend your wrist a bit hard, Y/N. Stop hesitating,” he said again.

You tried once more, despite the sweat forming on your temple from anxiety.

With sticks, it was easy. Say the spell, bend the wrist and aim the wand.

With candles, you were afraid you would mess it up somehow; maybe put out the fire or even start a bigger fire. It was a fire, after all, it was dangerous.

When you failed again, Remus made his way to you, standing only a step away behind you.

You felt his breath behind your neck as he closed that one step, laying his body onto yours. You didn’t manage to ask him what he was doing, you didn’t need to. Your heart dropped when he put his hand on yours, lifting it in the air. He aimed it towards the candle, but you were too out of it to apprehend.

Your whole body was focused on his skin on yours, savouring his touch on you without your permission. Suddenly, you didn’t think the sweat was from anxiety. You didn’t think your heartbeats were from embarrassment. You didn’t think your whole body was aflame because you were conscious of your ineptness.

You knew what it was. You knew what it was that set fires in the core of your chest, grasped the air from your lungs, and took the strength in your muscles away.

But you didn’t acknowledge it.

You let Remus move your arm, copying the instructions. You let him brush your hand with his fingers. You let him show you how to bend your wrist all while his hand on yours. You let him whisper the incantation in your ear.

You felt the void around your fingers when he withdrew his hand and his body from yours.

“Go on,” he said, so low you wouldn’t hear him if you weren’t holding your breath.

You aimed the wand, bent your wrist, and cast the spell.

The candle rose to the air, attracting a few candles to itself and lighting them up.

“Attagirl. My turn."

You said nothing as you stepped away, letting Remus place himself in front of the chair. You lighted another candle for him and put it on the chair.

You watched him take a stance and aim his wand. You didn’t know if it was because of his stance or his long legs or arms, but he looked…handsome.

He looked handsome with his serious expression; wrinkled brows, clenched jaw, stiff shoulders and narrowed eyes.

Heck, he looked handsome with his smiling expression too; curled-up pink lips, brown locks decorating his forehead, chestnut eyes glistening as his smile.

You cursed yourself at your admission.

He cast the spell, succeeding with the first attempt. The side of his lip inched up with pride for a tiny second.

You did it. You were ready for the plan. The only thing left was James and Sirius’s work.

He turned his eyes to yours.

“We did it.”

“Yes,” you nodded and got to collect the candles.

Remus frowned, visibly uncomfortable at something.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“What?”

You refused to glance at him. You didn’t want to admit anything else just because his ridiculous gorgeousness affected you.

“Something’s wrong. You’re acting weird.”

“How am I acting weird? I’m just cleaning up the mess so we can go and eat.”

“Yeah, but,” he started helping you out by gathering the unused candles, “You’re a bit–”

“I didn’t know you cared about me,” you snapped your head in his direction.

He stopped whatever he was doing. You saw him swallow.

“I don’t.”

“Good.”

You almost threw your candles at him.

“I’m going to dinner.”

You didn’t wait for him. As you exited the room, you reminded yourself that he thought of you as annoying.

“Stop panicking.”

“I’m not panicking!” You wiped your palms on your cloak, counting to ten to calm your nervousness.

“Yeah, sure, that’s why your breath is unsteady.”

“Why are you even focused on my breath?”

You frowned when Remus didn’t reply.

It was a big day. In the end, you'll either end up dreaming about your ball dress or worrying about the detention.

James and Sirius were in the Great Hall, hidden under the Invisibility Cloak. They were waiting for your charmed fireworks as you and Remus were waiting for Peter to bring them behind the gate.

Everyone was busy eating their dinner, like a casual evening. Chatters and clatters were mingling in the air, serving you an opportunity for secrecy.

Remus was standing next to you–a bit close, as your arms were glued together. His eyes were on the corner where James and Sirius were, as your eyes should be looking for Peter.

Except that you weren't looking for Peter.

No matter how much you wanted to prevent it, your eyes were drawn to Remus.

For the last fifteen days, it had been this way. You would look for Remus in every corner, and your heart would chirp like a bird when you would find him. You would start agitating him so maybe he would react, and wouldn’t back down when he would annoy you first.

Even now, you couldn’t help but steal secret peeks at him. Sharp jawline and unblemished face despite the scars were completed with downy hair and hazel eyes.

He was stunning and you were attracted to him. Your five-years-ago self would roll her eyes at you if she was to see you. You were attracted to him despite his annoyance with you, and your pride hated you for that.

You were sure if Remus knew your newly emerging feeling for him, he would mock you to the point you cried.

You turned your head away from Remus when you heard heavy step voices. Peter was bringing a box full of fireworks, trying to be as discreet as possible in the meantime. You stepped up and helped him. He nodded at you before entering the Great Hall like a starved boy whose only intention was to have dinner.

You pulled Remus’s sleeve and he turned to you. You heard him mumble ‘right’ under his breath before taking out his wand. You repeated the same, waiting for him to sort out the fireworks.

“We’ll do it at the same time, remember. Or James won’t be able to Accio all of them at once.”

You nodded, aiming your wand all while alerting your senses to Remus’s voice. Between all the noise from the Great Hall, he had to raise his tone from whispers.

“One. Two. Three.”

Both of you cast the spell. You made sure to bend your wrist this time. Two of the fireworks lit up and attracted other fireworks to themselves. Remus sent James the signal.

Seconds passed, but the fireworks weren’t Accio’d anywhere.

You waited a bit more, glancing at Remus to see him do the same with a frown.

Another few seconds passed.

Nothing.

It was getting dangerous. You couldn’t be near them. They were about to blow up.

You squirmed close to the wall, adrenalin filling up your veins and piercing your heart. Remus was sending the signal over and over again but to no avail.

You wanted to run but your legs were glued to the ground, not even managing to help your standing let alone running. You winced as the firework got close to blowing by a second.

One more second and it was going to explode right in your faces.

One.

You felt Remus’s body on yours, pushing you hard to the wall, almost squeezing you with his torso. His arms held your sides as you leaned into him, clenching your eyes shut.

You waited for the big hit.

But it never came.

Remus raised his head from yours, checking around.

Fireworks weren’t there.

Just when you moved to get away from Remus’s hold, blaring cracks emerged in the air. You let out a scream, thinking it came from near you. Remus squeezed your arms, snapping his head to you.

“Bloody hell, Y/N, my ears just bled.”

You looked around frantically, still standing between Remus and the wall. Your eyes averted back to Remus when you saw the real firework art was going on in the Great Hall. The fireworks were forming letters.

Chatters had turned into cheers, screams of excitement and joy echoing in your ears. You felt the colours of the fireworks on the walls, halls, your clothes and Remus’s body.

Remus’s body, which was too close to yours.

“Sorry,” you uttered, gazing into the depth of his brown.

“You alright?” he asked low, not letting you out of his grasp.

“Yeah, yeah,” you nodded. “You?”

“I’m alright.”

“Good.”

“Good,” he drawled, repeating to you.

His hands around your biceps were now burning up your skin. He was supposed to let you go now. Let you go and put a distance between your bodies.

Your heart cried at the thought of space. You begged and hoped and prayed that he wouldn’t loosen his grip.

You started counting seconds. He didn’t let go.

His stare at you darkened, breathing getting heavier by the second.

Your eyes lowered to his lips. They looked both soft and chapped. He parted his lips.

You looked back into his eyes. They were piercing through you, welcoming thoughts in your head that you so desperately shunned. You felt his touch on your skin tighten.

You yearned for his touch not only on your arm but every inch of your body.

You reminded yourself that he was annoyed by you.

You didn’t blink. You didn’t inhale. You didn’t exhale.

You put your hands on his face and crashed your lips onto his.

The butterflies inside you resonated with the fireworks inside the Great Hall. Your heart quivered at the feeling of his lips on yours. Your chest flamed up in lust, your body smiled when you felt Remus’s hands wander to your back.

He kissed you back, welcoming the passion to run free in your veins.

You arched your back just to have him closer. You felt his slips stretch into a smirk, his fingers digging into your skin.

You kissed him harder.

His heavy breaths mingled with yours, hovering over your face. Your whole body shivered under his silky lips, sheltering the heat of your chest under his touch. His hands covered every inch of your body, learning it by heart. The heft of your lust drowned under the intensity of his manoeuvres.

Your heads were up in the clouds, unaware of anything going down around you.

You forgot where you were. You forgot what you were doing. You forgot why you were doing what you were doing. The dark in your eyes leaked shadows in your mind, blackening every thought.

That is until three boys intervened.

You pushed Remus away, putting the distance you so despised between you two. You pushed your lips together in an attempt to hide their red and swollen state. You ignored the cry of your lips, body, heart and soul for Remus’s caress.

“WE DID IT! WE’RE GOING TO CELEBRATE CHRISTMAS WITH A BALL!”

You grinned at James and let the boys have their celebration. You didn’t cast a glance at Remus. You didn’t see him not taking his eyes off of yours for even a second.

It was Friday. The last Transfiguration class before the well-deserved ball.

You were seated behind your desk, definitely not waiting for Remus.

You two hadn’t talked about the kiss since it happened. Hell, you hadn’t even talked to each other properly.

You might be ignoring him a little bit.

You were leaving the room when he was entering, going to sleep when he was approaching you, and being busy when he was trying to talk to you.

You might be ignoring him not so little bit.

Your leg was bouncing up and down, and you were fighting with your urge to not check the door every ten seconds. You hadn't quite figured out how you were feeling, but you knew it was something intense that your hands were freezing not because of the winter but because of the nervousness.

The same nervousness that made your mouth run dry when you saw Remus enter the classroom. The same nervousness that made you breathe quicker and feel dizzy when you felt Remus sit down next to you. The same nervousness that turned yanked the colours out of your face when you heard him talk.

“Will you run again if I open my mouth?”

“You just did,” you say, trying to sound as casual as you could. You weren’t facing him just the way he wasn’t facing you.

“And you didn’t run.”

“I didn’t.”

“Good,” he nodded. “You’ve been ignoring me.”

“No?”

His head snapped at you, forcing you to turn to him as well.

“Don’t mock me, Y/N,” he warned, irritated.

“I’m not mocking you, Remus. I’m just–”

“What did I do wrong?” he cut you off. “Tell me.”

Your heart skipped a bit at his question, clenching around a pain that you wished to ignore.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I don’t understand,” he frowned. “ You kissed me. So, I’m guessing you wanted it.”

You didn’t reply, too busy reliving the whimsical moment that had been keeping you awake at night, attacking your heart with butterflies.

“You did want it, right?”

“Yes,” you snapped back to the moment. “Yes, I did.”

“Then tell me what I did wrong and maybe I can rectify it,” he said. “Tell me what I did that you’re ignoring me.”

You didn’t know what to tell him.

You couldn’t tell him that you were running from him because you were too embarrassed to look him in the eye and admit that you were attracted to him. You couldn’t tell him that you were still figuring out what you were feeling, too afraid to get your heart broken.

You couldn’t tell him that despite your fears and doubts, you were still yearning for the sound of his laugh and craving the touch of his skin on your skin. You couldn’t tell him that there wasn't a moment in which your mind could offer you any other thought than him.

So you told him the first thing that came to your mind.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. It was me. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

Remus looked appalled, eyebrows furrowing.

“What?”

“It was a mistake.”

“A mistake?”

“Yes.”

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head.

“We both know it wasn’t a mistake. Stop lying to yourself.”

“I-I just don’t think it’s a good idea for us to–”

“I’m not asking you to marry me.”

“I know!” you said, losing your temper for a second. “I know, Remus. I’m just not sure about...well, everything.”

You watched him inhale deeply, contemplating something in his mind. You wished to know what was going on in his head but didn’t ask.

“We can, uh,” he started, “We can try to be friends.”

“Friends?”

“Yeah, until we figure out whatever this is.”

You stared into his eyes, they weren’t pleased. Like they were keeping something back. You didn’t know how to ask him that, so you didn’t

“Friends,” you repeated as if testing the word. “I guess it can work.”

Remus nodded and stretched out his hand to you. You stared at his hand for a moment, recalling the way they caressed your skin a few days ago. You ached for that feeling.

“Anytime before I graduate would be nice,” he said.

You muttered a quick ‘sorry’ before shaking his hand.

Geoffrey Fawley had asked you to be his date for the ball.

He was a nice boy from what you had heard from James. He was in the Quidditch team with James and was a good chaser. Of course, you hadn’t mentioned either James or Sirius about your date. You wanted them to be surprised so you could mock them later on.

You hadn’t mentioned Remus about it, either. Why should you? Right?

It was only two days since you had agreed to be friends and in those two days you barely even talked, mainly because you were too busy choosing a dress for the ball.

To your delight, you had found the perfect one.

Checking your attire with one last glance, you turned your heels and walked out of the dorm room straight to the hall.

Geoffrey was waiting for you with a smile; he was an undeniably charming boy, you had to admit. Blonde hair sparkling above the green eyes with a graceful frame, he could steal any girl's heart.

Except that yours was already stolen by a pair of brown eyes.

You pushed Remus's visage deep in your mind, refusing to revive your disappointment when he didn't ask you out to the ball as his date.

You let Geoffrey take your hand and curtly lead you from the door to the ball.

"You look absolutely gorgeous."

"Thank you," you smiled.

As you two occupied yourself with small talk, you didn’t notice James and Sirius making their way to you. You had learned that Geoffrey has two elder sisters, he doesn’t like chocolate and he unsurprisingly loves Quidditch. He was kind, sensible, and a great listener.

He was everything and nothing you ever wanted. He wasn’t Remus.

“Fawley! Y/N is your date?!” James called, smiling from ear to ear as he approached you.

“Yes, Potter. Apparently, she deemed me worthy of standing by her side tonight,” Geoffrey joked back, smiling at you gently.

“Ah, yes, fancy words,” Sirius dropped his arm around your shoulders. “Have you kissed yet? Her lipstick looks intact.”

“Sirius!” you hit him in the torso.

“I’ll take this as a no and head out to Remus,�� Sirius said, “He’s been a moody bitch these days.”

“Where’s he?” you asked, forcing your tone to the casual.

James turned back, pointing at someone with his hand.

“There. The one with the sour face and brown hair.”

He had leaned against a wall, looking around with a frown. He was captivating in a black suit, his hair falling into all the right places and creating an art-like view. You enjoyed the view a few moments more, memorising every little detail about his figure. You wished he could be a bit closer to you.

“He doesn’t look like he enjoys himself. Should we invite him?” Geoffrey asked.

“I don’t think that’s necessary. He looks comfortable–”

“Nonsense, Y/N,” Sirius cut in. “Oi! Moony! Come here!”

You squeezed your lips together as Remus reached you. He was without a date.

Would it be malicious if you felt relieved by that?

“You guys have fun. Lily is waiting for me,” James said before leaving you four together.

“He is with Lily?” you asked Sirius, both surprised and happy.

“Geoffrey must have really swept you off your feet,” Remus drawled, staring into your eyes.

You felt uncomfortable. Not because of Remus’s words but because of Geoffrey’s presence. You smiled at Remus awkwardly, knowing you had Geoffrey’s eyes on you.

“You don’t have a date, Remus?”

“No,” he said to you. You felt cold at his tone.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find someone here.”

“I don’t want to find someone.”

You felt Geoffrey grab your hand.

“Would you like to dance?”

You smiled and nodded at him, letting him carry you to the dance floor.

He put his hand on your waist as you placed your hand on his shoulder. He intertwined your other hands together and started moving with the rhythm.

You glanced at his eyes only for a moment before dragging them to every corner of the room. They landed on Remus.

His eyes cut through your chest like a dagger, reminding you of every feeling your skin, heart and soul had felt two days ago.

You hated that you felt nothing if it wasn’t Remus touching you. You hated that you felt nothing if it wasn’t Remus smiling at you. You hated that you felt nothing if it wasn’t Remus’s words that were whispered in your ear.

“You seem distracted.”

“Oh,” you locked eyes with Geoffrey again, smiling. “Forgive me.”

“It’s Lupin, isn’t it?”

“Excuse me?”

“You have been acting weird since he stopped by.”

Your smile ebbed as guilt prickled inside of your chest. Geoffrey chuckled at your fortified expression.

“It’s alright, you know. I knew you had no feelings for me when I asked you. I just didn’t think you may have feelings for another.”

You lowered your head to his chest. There was no point in denying it.

“I’m so sorry Geoffrey, truly. I didn’t mean to disrespect you–”

“You haven’t”

“Or offend you.”

“You haven’t either,” he shook his head in a warm smile.

“I shouldn’t have said yes,” you mumbled before looking up at him.

“I’m glad that you did. I wouldn’t be able to move on if I didn’t hear you reject me.”

You admired his genuinity, and his pleasant smile and his gentle manner.

You adored his kindness and good heart. He was the kind of boy that would never annoy you, bicker with you or hurt your feelings.

But he wasn’t the kind of a boy that would make your heart race in excitement, passion and desire.

He wasn’t Remus.

When the dance ended, you couldn’t find Remus.

“Go,” Geoffrey said, “I’ll be alright. It’s obvious that you two need to talk.”

You thanked him before placing a short peck on the cheek. Then, you dashed to Sirius, who was too busy getting drunk.

“Padfoot, where’s Remus?” you yelled, attempting to drown the music.

“Where’s who?”

“Remus! Where’s Remus?!”

“I’m here,” you startled at his voice behind you.

You parted your lips to speak to him but he acted faster.

“Come with me,” he said, holding your hand and dragging you away from the people.

He led you to another room and closed the door after him.

“A bit quiet.”

You nodded, feeling the blood in your veins rush. It had only been a second since you were alone with him and your feelings were already messed up.

An awkward silence filled the room.

“Remus, I don’t want to–”

“You didn’t tell me you–”

You sighed, hoping that he would talk first. And he did.

“You didn’t tell me you had a date.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“I didn’t know I had to.”

“I thought we were…friends,” his teasing tone daunted your nerves. You forgot what you were searching Remus for.

“We’re not that close friends.”

“You seemed pretty close with Geoffrey.”

Pride clawed at your insides, taking an internal scream from you. It didn’t hurt, you felt powerful.

“Jealous much?” you managed to hide the smirk but you didn’t hide the smug tone. You saw Remus clench his jaw and clear his throat before talking.

“What if I am?”

“Then I’d ask you the reason,” you said. Your smug tone changed into something different, something desirous.

“Don’t tire yourself, love. I’m not jealous.”

“Nice,” you smiled, stepping forward. “Then you wouldn’t mind if I returned to my date.”

Remus filled the void between you and the door with his body, not letting you go through. You peeked at his lips momentarily.

“We’re not done talking.”

You hoped you could cover your jitters with cheekiness because your heart was racing, your mouth was dry and your hands were trembling with anticipation. You didn’t even want to mention the surges of fire and flood inside you exhausting each other.

“Oh, isn’t this new? You finally want to talk to me after years of vexation.”

“That’s what friends do, right?” he shrugged.

The way that ‘friend’ word agitated you was ridiculous.

“I’m all ears,” you told him, still not backing away from him, holding onto the distance that could easily be conquered with one step.

You were finally close enough to him to easily feel him under your touch. You could see the beauty marks, freckles and scars vividly. You wouldn’t even need to get closer to caress them. You only needed to raise your hand and–

“I fancy you.”

Your eyes shot up from his lips to his eyes, widening in bemusement. You chose not to let your ears deceive you, not to let the words plant hope in you, not to let butterflies escape their cage.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he frowned. “I’ve been fancying you since you were a little girl and I was a little boy.”

“You hated me when you were a little boy and I was a little girl.”

You shook your head. He did the same.

“No, I didn’t. Annoying you was the only way to get you to talk to me, so I clung to it for years.”

You felt the heft weighing you down drag you onto the surface, letting you finally breathe. You felt the fireworks inside you, or maybe that was just butterflies. Your heart chirped in its cage, ready for you to set it free.

“I fancy you, too.”

You set your heart free from its cage. You let him fly away, welcoming the warmth that the boy before you had to offer.

Remus straightened and closed the distance between you two.

“You do?”

“Yes,” you whispered. “I do.”

You closed your eyes, giving into the night when you felt Remus’s hand on your cheek. You drew a breath in when you felt his other hand on your waist. You parted your lips when you felt his hot breath on your lips.

Anticipation climbed its way from your stomach all the way to your heart, shaking your breath. One more inch closer and you would die in his lips, one more second later and you would break down under his touch, one more breath in and you would crumble into pieces by his kiss.

“Would you like to see how I ruin a friendship in a second?”

“Yes,” you pleaded.

He closed the one last inch, spent the one last second and inhaled the one last breath.

He kissed your lips.

You died in his lips, broke down under his touch and crumbled into pieces by his kiss.

His lips, so soft and silky, intoxicated your mind. His touch, so gentle yet so firm, ignited your skin. His skin under your hands, so warm and flawless, blazed your fingertips.

You melted under him, ready to die in his arms.

He kissed your lips until they were red and swollen. He kissed you until you were breathless and dizzy. He touched you until he sent shivers down your spine.

When you pulled away, his eyes dark and in trance were still on your lips, his lips placing pecks on all over your face.

You smiled into his lips, letting him embrace you.

“James owes Sirius ten sickles.”

“What?” you laughed, taking in his scent.

“Two years ago they had a bet on us,” he said, and you loved the way ‘us’ echoed between his lips. “Sirius said sooner or later we would get together."

“We just made Sirius ten sickles richer.”

I love that I can write Remus both as a kind, gentle, sweet boy and as a mysterious, complicated but hot boy. It just makes sense in both ways.

Anyways, if you've read this far, thank you so much for your time. And thank you to the person that sent the request.

Please let me know what you think!

and if you loved this fic or my writing, buy me a coffee <33

#remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #remus lupin #remus x you #the maruaders #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin angst #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin smut #remus lupin supremacy #remus lupin scenario #harry potter #andrew garfield #taylor swift

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freyito · 7 months

Note

Can I request platonic Tomas and Bi-Han headcannons with a gn child/teen reader who has difficulty feeling emotions because they were never taught how to process or deal with emotions and the only thing they were told about emotions were to hide them?

This is kinda self indulgent, so I'm sorry if it's kinda specific or weird to you

its alright anon this also lowkey heals the inner child in me BECAUSE THATS ME THATS ME THATS ME TOO. paired with flat affect (and rbf) i had a really hard time understanding emotions in general as a kid!!!! nothing could process properly so i was (and still am) the definition of :l (KACPER LORE!!!)so im slappin flat affect on here as well, if u dont mind anon

cw: gn reader, platonic, proud bi-han, happy tomas, reader is teen (age isnt mentioned however), proofread

ᴛᴏᴍᴀꜱ & ʙɪ-ʜᴀɴ + ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴡʜᴏ ꜱᴛʀᴜɢɢʟᴇꜱ ᴡ/ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴ

-Tomas Vrbada

Tomas comes from a place of sympathy. Perhaps he doesn't quite understand why it's so hard for you to show your emotions, given he's very expressive himself. The most he's experienced is difficult emotions, so he tries his very best not to step over a line.

He's curious and worried, though. He wants to understand you better, and he wants to know just why it is so hard to smile around him.

So, Tomas tries hard to make you smile, any sort of emotion. He'll give you gifts, things he thinks you'll find interesting from his missions, or just try and surprise you in any sort of way. Which always falls short.

He notices that in tense times, or even in times of tragedy you almost seem unsure about how to feel. And afterwards, you almost seem unaffected, in a bad way.

He swallows his pride and just asks you why it's hard to make you emote, why your voice almost lacks emotion. And when you don't have a proper answer, somehow he forms his own answer.

He's kind to you, as much as he will always seek out a reaction, he doesn't think of you any differently. In fact, he's actually determined to teach you how to properly understand your emotions.

He assures you it's okay to cry, happy cry, sad cry, confused cry, whatever kind of cry. Although, not much had come up to render this reaction out of you. He's almost too expressive around you, almost as if he's showing you what to do.

At the end of the day, however, Tomas is sure to help you. Regardless. It doesn't matter if you can only pout now, it's progress. And he's happy. He's actually made it a point to be there during every big step. He finds it so hard to contain himself when he sees you genuinely smile for the first time.

-Bi-Han

Now, Bi-Han understands hiding your emotions. He himself was taught to keep them hidden. But slowly, that had just turned into resentment. So he sees a lot of himself in you.

He'll brush it off at first, he tells himself he doesn't want to get into it. But he slowly convinces himself to come around. He's empathetic, he almost understands every movement you make.

He puts in as much effort as he can, at least, what he thinks is enough effort. As strong as he knows he is, he knows that it's a bad idea to let this evasion of emotion turn into the anger he feels.

Bi-Han sits you down, and talks to you directly. He doesn't tell you his entire story, but he tells you that it's okay to allow yourself to feel and allow yourself to express that. But, he tells you not to force yourself to feel. There's a fine line between those two differences.

He enjoys watching your progress, and just like Tomas, he wants to be there every step of the way. But he's also a bit too prideful for that. So, he's content from watching the sidelines.

Little do you know, he's celebrating those little moments. Behind your back, obviously. He's proud of you. But still too prideful to show that in public. However, he voices this to you. He tells you how proud of you he is when he knows he can have a private word with you.

#*ੈ✩ freyito #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat 1 x reader #tomas vrbada x reader #bi-han x reader #sub zero x reader #smoke x reader

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yoitsjay · 3 months

Text

Dad or Daddy

Pairings: Ghost x gn!reader

Summary: laswell bragged about how great of a babysitter you were. So Ghost just had to find out for himself.

Warnings: sexual innuendo, but no action. Cliffhanger

Word count: 1,639

Render credit: @ave661

You had gained a reputation originally by being a very good babysitter for laswell and her wifes adopted baby, you were a trusted friend of Kate's wife, hence the immediate job, and then Kate started to brag about how you were the only one who seemed to put her baby to a dead sleep, your voice and the warmth that radiated off of you was alluring, and it soothed a lot of people, babies included.

One day you were relaxing at home, you already had a plan to make your way to a local bar that night and had told kate and her wife all about it and that it was a new bar and grill that some other friends of yours had been raving about. Little did you know she would be giving a certain someone your location, and you would end up having a very eventful night.

So when that evening drew in, and you were dressed and ready in a cute ish outfit you put together to perhaps attract some attention to yourself. Maybe you would get lucky… Can't help but dream really. Regardless, you take a cab to the bar, planning on having a few drinks. It doesn't take long to get to the bar either since the location wasn't far from your home, however you did not want to walk home drunk, since something could happen and you wouldn't be in the right mind to defend yourself.

Upon entering the bar and grill, the strong aroma of savory food and alcohol fills your nose, however the smell is anything but repulsive. There's a small dance floor placed in front of a DJ booth on the right side of the room, directly in front of you is the large bar with a huge shelf filled with bottles of different alcohols and mixers. and on the left side of the room are booths and tables to seat at if you're there to grab dinner with a friend, family or other. You were hungry, but since you were alone you just walked straight up to the bar.

You order one drink and a water to start, switching from alcohol and then to water, just to make the night last a little bit longer, you had no plans till monday and it was saturday. After the two drinks you ordered a couple appetizers, munching on some potato wedges when you suddenly feel a tap on your shoulder, it was light, but you could feel warmth from the hand that poked you, and you turned your head, resting a hand atop your full waterglass, just in case. "Hi?" You asked out in a questioning tone.

The man who had tapped you was tall, and muscular and he was wearing a black hoodie and jeans, however the most unusual thing was that he was wearing a skull ski mask that obscured his face. "Are you Y/N?" he asked, and you raised an eyebrow before speaking. "I am, who are you?" You asked him, and the man sits down beside you on the free bar stool to your right. "Im Ghost- Laswell told me a lot about you, you're a close friend according to her? and I hear that you're one damn good babysitter." He explained, and your previous defense dropped when he mentioned Kate and being a good babysitter.

Upon hearing that a soft chuckle escapes your lips and you nod. "Yeah thats right… you must be the silent killer from the 141 if i remember correct. she doesnt talk a lot about her work around me, but i do know that The Ghost is one mysterious guy… so how can i help you?" You asked, and watched as the large man rubbed his knee slightly. "Well- i have a 5 month old daughter, and i can never find a decent babysitter during the months im on deployment, i dont get a lot of breaks so its hard to see her, and her mom isnt in the picture." he explained, and you nod to show him that you were following along.

He continued a moment later. "All the other sitters i've hired have flaked after a month, or less than that, and well, Laswell says she is going to be home a lot more often which means you'll probably need work… What im asking is if you'd like to babysit for me? you would stay in my house, semi-permanently unless im home for breaks and whatnot, you'll be paid 100 per hour and all of your grocery expenses will be payed for too, and of course you can use any streaming service, my room- all of it. i just really need a reliable babysitter who doesn't flake out on me."He explained, somewhat breathless at the end of his request. You stare at him for a few moments, a smile slowly growing across your lips.

"Take me out to a nice dinner, and I'll be your permanent babysitter for 75 an hour." You stated, extending his hand out to him to shake. You didn't know if he was smiling or not, but the crease by his eyes told you that he was relieved, and just like that you shook hands and the deal was made. The dinner happened the next weekend, but Ghost took you to one of your favorite restaurants in town which just so happened to be your favorite as well. You talked and got to know him a bit, his interests and what life was like in the special forces. You couldn't help but admit to yourself that even with the mask you could tell this man was attractive, with the way he spoke and carried himself, he knew he was good looking too.

On monday he introduced you to his five month old, and she was an absolute sweetheart of a baby. He had a few more weeks left of his break so in that time he got you used to his apartment. It was a two bedroom, one bath apartment, a perfect size for him and his kid, and maybe a lover if he chose to have one. The apartment was simple though, one plant in the living room that was withering away, most likely a house present. And for the most part the apartment was clean, save for some scattered kids toys on the ground.

And in a blink the weeks had passed and You were back at simons apartment, this time with a suitcase full of clothes, and he was getting ready to leave, you said your goodbyes and off he went, and you stayed, living in his apartment for months. you took young charlotte everywhere with you too, back to your apartment on some occasions to clean up some dust, your friend was house sitting for you so it did not get too bad.

You and Ghost face timed every night so he could talk to his daughter, though of course she couldn't talk back, but she knew that the man in the skull mask was her father and she was filled with glee whenever she got to see him through the screen. On top of that you started having your own little chats with ghosts after Charlotte was put to bed. At first it started with little flirty messages, and then heart emojis or kissy faces, and Ghost wasn't shy with his responses with flirty remarks, though he didn't use emojis yet. You weren't a rookie so he didn't have to be professional with you it seemed.

One night seemed to be a gamechanger for you and him however, you had once again put Charlotte to bed and she was out like a light, no sound could wake her. You had a drink or two, and decided to get out of your uncomfortable clothes, making his way into his bed where you had made your home after the first three months of staying in his home, and still as naked as the day you were born you took one of the blankets off Ghosts bed, posing in front of the body length mirror in his bedroom, and with the blanket hanging from your lower torso, hiding the important its, you posed and took a scandalous picture of yourself, with a sultry expression on your face.

Immediately you hopped into his bed, and sent it to him, a grin spread across your lips as you sent him the picture without a word before or after. You shut your phone off, not wanting to see him type out a response to take a picture. However you were growing concerned when more than five minutes passed without a response, so you checked yours and Ghosts chat, seeing that he had read it.

Just as you checked the chat, you saw him begin to type out a response, and your face grew red in anticipation, and his reply finally appeared.

"You've been teasing me for months darlin' and now this? Buckle up sweetheart because when I get home you're not leaving my bed for weeks."

His response had your eyes blown wide open, and you could feel yourself get aroused at the thought of him doing.. everything to you. You quickly messaged him back however. wanting to tease him just a bit more.

"Oh shit- That picture wasn't meant for you ghost, it was for another cute guy- don't take things the wrong way, i'm just your babysitter,"

You sent that reply quickly, and immediately he was typing again, only sending you a red angry face.

"I'm taking the next plane back home. you and i will be having a long… chat… when i get back. cuz i know damn well you ain't talking to nobody but me."

And that's when you knew that you were smitten with your little kids dad, absolutely smitten.

#fanfiction #ghost x male reader #call of duty: moderm warefare 2 #cod ghost #simon ghost riley #simon “ghost” riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x gn reader #gn reader

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gabigabigabby · 11 months

Note

heyy i just read ur gavi x messi!reader and its truly amazing and was wondering if you could maybe write jude/gavi x neymar's daughter!reader? btw you dont have to write it just thought it would be a cute idea <33 hope ur having a great day/night!!

neymar's daughter | j. bellingham

jude bellingham x neymar!reader

a/n: love this idea, thanks for the request anon! my requests are open y'all so go send some rn! actually had some friends of mine pick between jude or pabs for this one and they chose jude so here we are! enjoy 🩷

synopsis: neymar flies to germany to meet jude... and you're caught up in between

content/warnings: yes dortmund still lose their bundesliga title in this, starstruck!jude, over-excited!jude, portuguese dialogue, lmk if i missed out anything (:

—

"oi, meu querida," the voicemail from your dad begins to play. "acabei de pousar em dortmund. mal posso esperar pra vê-lo hoje à noite! te amo sempre." [hey, my darling. i just landed in dortmund. cannot wait to see you tonight! love you always.]

today is dortmund's last game and neymar had been injured since february. it was him who came up with the idea to fly to dortmund to finally meet this boyfriend you haven't stopped gushing about since the world cup.

you haven't told jude that neymar is coming, let alone being your plus-one for today. you didn't want to distract him from the title race. if you told him right now, you know he'd feel really pressured; you know, with your dad being the prince of football.

eventually, you stopped thinking about it, and the evening came in the blink of an eye. you were sat at the vip box with your dad. wearing jude's shirt, you hear all the fans who sat nearby the box. some were waving at neymar and he waved back, some were waving at you and you did the same.

"estou tão feliz que você está realmente aqui!" you turn to your dad. [i'm so glad that you're actually here!]

"eu também. linda cidade." neymar smiles, pulling your hand in his. [me too. beautiful city.]

"estou muito animada pra você conhecê-lo." [i'm very excited for you to meet him.]

"ah, bellingham," neymar nods slowly; something he usually does when he's unsure about something. "espero que ele tenha sido nada além de encantador pra você." [ah, bellingham. i hope he's been nothing but delightful to you.]

you giggle softly. "confia em mim, pai. nada além de incrível." [trust me, dad. nothing but amazing.]

the game began, and jude had a brilliant first half. dortmund was dominating and you're proud to say your boyfriend had been of great help. by the time the whistle had been blown to signify the conclusion of the game, whatever help that jude had rendered to the team was deemed meaningless. bayern had won the bundesliga title and there is nothing anybody can do about it.

"papai, você pode esperar aqui?" you kindly ask your dad for a little bit of time. "deixe-me pegar jude pra se refrescar." [dad, can you wait here? let me get jude to freshen up.]

"vai, vai. eu esperarei aqui." neymar nods, understanding where you are coming from as he watches you run towards the pitch. [go. go. i'll wait here.]

family and friends were finally given the leeway to invade the pitch and console the guys. you immediately make your way to jude, who had squatted before the goalpost, sobbing in his hands. your hands find themselves on jude's shoulders, to which he immediately shrugs off.

"stop touching me, fuck off!" jude yells through his tears.

"jb, it's me! it's me." you reassure him as you take his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. jude's face softens at the sight of you, more tears starting to drip off his face.

"sorry, i thought you were gio or something." jude mumbles, but you didn't fully hear what he said because you had pulled him into your shoulders, allowing him to cry freely. you let jude's tears soak your dortmund jersey. all jude wants is your presence. your presence takes the edge off his shoulders. to jude, you take the pain away just by existing.

"nothing to apologize about, jb," you whisper in his ear. "i have a surprise for you. there's somebody who is very excited to meet you for the first time."

jude lifts his head off your shoulder. "who is it?"

you giggle. "wouldn't be a surprise if i told you, would it?"

"babe, you know i hate surprises-" jude tries to argue.

"you're gonna love this one, trust me!" you reject, holding his hand in yours. defeated, jude could only just trail after you as you move towards the vip box. you let jude climb up the stairs leading to the box first.

"papai, meet jude," you shout out within neymar's earshot. "jude, this is neymar jr." neymar lifts his head upward to meet jude's eyes.

"hello, jude. i'm-"

"neymar," jude finishes your dad's sentence. "neymar is here."

"surprise," you smile, watching a starstruck jude stare at ney. when your dad starts to feel uncomfortable being stared at for a long period of time, you finally try to swerve jude from staring at neymar any longer. "let's walk, shall we?"

"i'm sorry for your loss today, jude." neymar sends his condolences.

"i'm sorry too. i hope you don't think i'm shit." jude grits his teeth in embarrassment.

"não, absolutely not. i know how good of a player you are. you did very good at the world cup." neymar nods.

"you knew about me then?" jude's starstruck tone appears once again.

"i watched the game, my friend. muito bem." neymar chuckles. [very good.]

jude slowly turns to face you and freaks out in silence. "he watched the games!" he silently screams. you attempt to match his energy, trying to replicate the expression on his face before he resumes his conversation with neymar.

the rest of the day was history. it was in the pages of your history books and definitely the first page of jude's. neymar flies back to paris the next day, and he had convinced you and jude to follow along.

"flying to paris tomorrow in neymar jr's jet," jude thinks out loud. "what a life."

"it's just a plane, jude-"

"no, it's not just a plane, my love. it's your dad's plane. i'm gonna be sitting in neymar's jet." needless to say, jude doesn't give a shit about losing the bundesliga title anymore now.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x black reader #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x y/n #borussia dortmund #football #football x reader #football x y/n #football x you #neymar #neymar's daughter

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bobacupcake · 10 months

Note

We got the earth and the sky, but has anyone asked about what you think of Abzu?

i love abzu!!! another one i have watched the gdc talk for which you can watch here!!

the two big things in abzu are the fish animations and the overall environment lighting - lets start with fish!! there are a lot of them. and when you want to animate a lot of things, your computer will explode. this is specifically when you animate things with bones, how a lot of computer things are animated

luckily one thing that gpus can be really good at is drawing a tonnnn of the same object really fast, using something called instancing. as long as its the same mesh and material, it can be rendered a ton with just a single draw call (like i am talking hundreds of thousands). so lets make 10 thousand fish. unluckily this doesnt work with skeleton animations. luckily you dont need them! especially with fish

even though all the objects need to be the same mesh and material, doesnt mean they cant have different input. not only that but shaders let you modify individual vertexes, so, what if you just take all 10000 fish and wiggle them along an axis, like this

and give them all slightly different inputs so they arent all doing the exact same animation, maybe by giving them each their own unique number. now you have 10 thousand fish swimming around, wiggling, at almost zero rendering cost

these are all individual 3d models and all their animations are running in the shader !

the other way they animated fish without giving them bones was through something called blendshapes - these are usually used for stuff like facial animations, where you move vertices around to your desired "shape" (so like maybe your default face is :| but you edit the vertices so your character goes :> etc), and keep track of the difference between each vertex's position and its original position so you can move it whenever you want

that doesnt need any bones so they used this for things like fish going CHOMP and fish making sharp turns

for the actual environment, they experimented with a bunch of things like using actual volumetric lighting, but in the end they found that just using fog worked best!! they did tweak it a bit though - they had a "zone" between where the fog started to get thick and when the fog just ended up being a solid color where they dimmed any lighting - this really helped the background geometry stick out and give that underwater feel (left is without dimming the lights, right is with dimming the lights!! fun to think about how firewatch did something similar but changing the fog color based on depth rather than literally dimming the lighting)

they also let different volumes have their own fog value, so if there was say a cave off in the distance, it could have less fog than the surrounding area for clarity & also made the fog look a bit more volumetric

and the other huge thing that helped was "portal cards" - not an official term but its what they called them, basically just quads they could stick in any place where they needed to make something "stick out", like a cave, or a hilltop that blended with the background too much. the card sampled the depth of objects behind it, and used that 0 to 1 value to map a color to it. and then the closer youd get to these cards, the more transparent theyd get, until youre right on top of it and you dont need the objects to stick out of the background anymore!! here you can see a Me, but very dark, and then i slide the card over it. the black and white is the camera depth of all objects behind the card, minus the depth of the card. and mapping that to a color makes me stick out way more than i was initially!! then as you swim closer to me, the card fades away, until you pass the card completely

these portal cards were also used to make the light beams poking out from the surface, theyre just animated a bit!! you can see how the portal cards affect the look of things in this frame breakdown

and one other thing thats pretty prominent that wasnt touched on in the talk is all the caustics on the ground, those little wobbly light things you see underwater. but those were probably? just added to every shader as a "add this caustics texture on top based on the with the texture mapped to the world x and z position and only if the object is facing up"

like this !

anyways thats all from me on abzu..!! really pretty game

#anonymous #ask #potion of answers your question #gamedev stuff #long post #i optimize every gif for you guys even if its already under 10mb

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brayneworms · 1 year

Text

roots of lore.

ft. xiao x gn!reader

word count. 1.4k

content. scars, scar touching, xiao's backstory (mentions of abuse + slavery), massages, xiao is touch-starved, fluff, petnames (sweet boy), grinding, not technically smut but definitely suggestive, light dom/sub undertones (dom!reader + sub!xiao).

synopsis. xiao is free now, but his scars remain.

notes. i am an nsfw blog, minors dont follow me or interact.

Xiao's body locks up beneath you, a trembling cage of flesh and soul.

You're reminded of when he'd grudgingly agreed to spar with you for the first time, after much wheedling. The first time you'd asked, he'd looked at you like you'd grown another head; the second time bred only subtle irritation. The third, he'd informed you flatly that under no uncertain circumstances could you beat him, and he doesn't like to fight at the best of times.

The tenth time, you wore him down. It had been exhilarating—you got your ass beat, sure, and Xiao had been going very easy on you, too. You'd limped back to the Wangshu Inn with bruised ribs and a strained ankle and a huge grin. You're sure Xiao thought you even stranger after that. But now it's become routine, and though he has years of experience on you, sometimes you're quick enough to get a couple of hits on him.

One time, oh, one time you managed to get his feet out from under him with a training staff, a harsh whap to the ankles and he went down, knees and face in the dirt. Before he can get his hands under him to push himself back up, he feels a phantom weight settle over him like a shadow, and he freezes. The blunt tip of your staff presses into his spine, right over a ridge, in a way that renders him temporarily motionless. Your knee brushes against the outside of his hip as you lean down, and when you speak, you're so close to his ear that he can feel his pulse in his skull; "Got you."

This is the first time you feel it—the way Xiao freezes when he's bested. At first you think you've made him uncomfortable, but... through the tufts of dark hair obscuring his expression, you can see the tips of his ears burning red. You can feel the slightest tremble running through his bones where your body just barely brushes his own. And, most tellingly, when you lean forward to murmur what was supposed to be a gloat, you feel the choked-off noise he bites back somewhere high in his throat at the contact.

And you suppose it's not so different to now, really—your room at the Wangshu Inn is quiet and decent, half-lit by glass lanterns and the moonlight outside. You're far too high above Liyue for any stray passersby to be able to see through your windows, which is just as well. You don't want anyone to be privy to this view except for you.

He's still mostly dressed, which is almost more tantalising than seeing him naked; there's something about the way the fabric drapes over his skin that makes you want to eat him alive. He's taken to burying his face in the bedsheets to hide as you work at him, a palm spread wide over his stomach to feel his stomach rise and fall. Even this contact sends his blood catching alight, his spine arching into your touch as your thumb strokes at the skin. Laving your care into pale flesh, one gentle swipe at a time.

You set another hand gently on the jut of his hip, push him back down to the bed. "You okay?"

Xiao presses his lips together, half mortified at his own lack of control and half blissed out beyond caring. Nobody has ever touched him like this, with so much care, so much love—it feels foreign, bubbling up hot and carbonated inside him like it insists upon itself. Calling out to an endless void, love me! Love me!

It seems impossible. But here you are, rolling him over on his stomach. He's half-grateful; burning up from the intensity of your stare, neck sore from trying to burrow into the bed to hide from it. He sinks his head into the pillows and let loose a long, trembly sigh as you clamber gently over him, legs bent on either side of his hips. The weight of you rests on him as you reach out to toy with a lock of dark hair.

Xiao whines at the suggestion of tension against his scalp; you pull nowhere near enough to hurt, but the in-between is maddening. It's like anticipation, like holding a loaded crossbow waiting for the bolt to loose. It feels like you should hurt him. Like you should want to. But you don't, and before long your fingers leave his hair to trace patterns on the nape of his neck, and Xiao shudders, burying his head into the pillow.

"You're okay, sweet boy," you murmur, and Xiao wants to argue that he's not a boy, he's so far from it, and sweet sounds like a joke when it tries to stick to someone like him. Karmic debt oozes from his pores, gritty and dark and acidic, surely infecting even your lovely hands, and Xiao readies his voice to say all this but then you run a finger hard down his spine and he stifles a whiny noise into the sheets instead.

He's aware, vaguely, that he's panting, that he's never felt this alive in this way in all his life, that what started as uncertain jerks of his hips to relieve some of the weird tension building hot in his low stomach has turned into a steady, rhythmic movement. His hips roll against the mattress, ignited by your careful touch, your fingers that dance on the precipice between pleasure and pain. It's too much, it's not enough, and Xiao stifles another cry into the mattress, mortified.

You stop quite suddenly, and Xiao makes another pathetic noise before realising where your hands have paused. The window in the back of his shirt that ripples over the skin of his spine, baring the flesh for the world. His heart flies into his throat; he usually keeps a glamour up, nothing especially powerful, just enough to heal his skin and keep people from seeing—

Your fingers trace a scar, and Xiao feels the prickling of tears at his eyes. Seeing that.

"Xiao," you whisper, and try as he might he is unable to read your tone. He's rooted to the spot, unable to move a muscle, and the fiery want in his abdomen goes cold and rotten in earnest. He can't look back at you. You've seen.

You must think he's hideous. A thing only worthy to be kept, to be hit, to be made use of. He wants to curl into himself and hide.

"I've never seen these," you murmur. "Do you keep them hidden?"

Shamefully, Xiao forces himself to nod; he can't possibly speak.

"Oh, sweet boy..." And your hands move again, tracing up and down the ridges, the jagged X that serves as a remnant of his days of servitude, tattoos his skin like a brand of ownership. Whip scars, beatings where the skin sliced open, pockmarking an unmeasurable amount of skin. Xiao wants simultaneously to pull away and to melt into you; he wants to let you rip him open at the seams, sink your hands into the ichor and black karma that makes him up inside. The thought of disappearing into the wind flits briefly, temptingly, across his mind—and then your hands drag over the center of that jagged X and his eyes roll back in his head, and the sinks into the mattress with little more than a whimper.

"You're so beautiful," he hears you whisper, and it feels impossible, like a sweet dream of some other reality where he deserves such gentle treatment. Your fingers nudge at the back of his head, coaxing. "Look at me?"

He cracks open a heavy eye with great difficulty; it gleams bright as topaz above cheekbones shaded in deep scarlet, hair amuss, shielding the rest of his expression, but his eyes speak enough. He looks agonised.

You lean forward, press your lips to the raised center of the labyrinth of scars in a stinging kiss, and Xiao swallows a choked noise. "I don't want you to hide these from me anymore, okay? Look how strong you are. How brave. I want to be reminded of that every time I look at you—that's what you deserve."

Xiao draws in a shaky breath. "I am not... any of that," he mumbles, paying no mind to how wrecked his voice sounds. "These are marks o weakness. Of servitude."

"And now you're free," you whisper, and Xiao's heart soars like a bird over the horizon. "Free to wander, to love. Free to stay right here with me."

Xiao can think of nothing better.

if you enjoyed this, request something.

#🫀.scribes #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact oneshot #xiao x reader #xiao smut #sub!xiao #dom!reader #genshin impact x dom!reader #genshin x dom!reader #genshin smut #sub!genshin

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 months

Note

aita for yelling at my friend?

this ones a long one.

bg info

so we're both 15, and he's done this thing a couple times where he'll create a new groupchat and exclude certain people who he's not as close to.

to me, this is mean, and i've spoken to him calmly about it before but he kinda just brushes it off and says he's just including close friends.

its also relevant that previously i may have enabled him. like, theres a girl neither of us like and we'd make fun of her sometimes, though not to her face, which is probably worse. i'm trying to be nicer to her but i dont get along with her very well.

on top of that, the origin of the gc we use now is that there was a bigger one and he told me "i just don't feel comfortable with some of these people". so i created a new group chat and let him pick who got added, with the agreement that we'd have to come to an agreement before adding more ppl, just for the sake of everyones comfort.

not sure if this is actually relevant or if im just salty but he doesn't spend time with the people in the gc at school, he sits with a group of juniors n seniors for lunchtimes and only comes around every so often. not sure if he's just spending one-on-one time with everyone or if he's actually not hanging out with us anymore.

into the actual inciting incident

today, we were talking about the groupchat to a friend we'd made recently and added today. he offhandedly mentioned one of the smaller groupchats he'd made for closer friends, and how no one had used it. i got really mad about how casual he was about something i thought was mean of him to do, so i told him something like "i just think that it's a rude thing to do."

and he said something like "well im just including our close friends", we kept going like this for a bit, and I yelled at him "why are the only people that matter the ones YOU like?" and there was more of a kerfuffle i don't remember, but i did in fact cry (self-provoked, he didnt say anything). i apologized for being so dramatic, and he left. it was class time so i left too, and my sister drives me and she had work so i left school really fast.

we have a little routine where we watch a show together on call though and he said yes when i asked about that. after asking him abt our show, i texted him n apologized for yelling at him n asked to talk but i said that i still thought that the way he treats people kinda sucks. no response.

what people irl said

like one person said that i was brave? and that they shoulve said something. the girl we added didnt say anything, and my other friend asked if i was okay after it was all over

why i might be an asshole

i think im being kinda on a moral high-horse when ive enabled and even kinda participated in this behavior before and ofc, yelling was very much an overreaction on my part

additionally, its not exactly a choice to not get along with some people?

why he might be an asshole

excluding people on purpose and ignoring my attempts to talk things out.

with the bias filter on, this behavior is pretty self-centered, because he doesn't hang out with us much at all, and he's never very invested in any of our interests or issues, but he still gets to dictate who gets to be in the "close friends" group chat?

for any advice

i really don't want to drop him as a friend, not just because i like spending time with him, which is most of it. the other part of it is that im really scared of what will happen if he gets mad at me, because i don't want to break up the friendgroup into people taking sides, and to a lesser extent im scared that if that does happen no one will take my side in that conflict. it just doesn't seem worth it to get into a blowout with him about this when i don't want to lose anyone.

thanks for reading all that, this is mostly just to organize my thoughts. render moral judgement at will.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #eyestrain

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chaifootsteps · 3 months

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I felt nothing in the huge climax. from Pens confession, to Angel and husks conversation, down to the final kill to Adam. nothing felt earned. lucifers bond with Charlie, Charlie bonds with hell, the goals they wanted to reach. i felt nothing other than just a hunger for when this all would make sense. for a reason to nod my head and agree that it all makes sense. that there are still answers to questions. but the reason for this all is that there wasn't anything that gave me that reason to feel what the characters felt. we don't get to know them. we don't get to see them at their worst and work up to their best. everyone has something to work towards and that whole idea to see what it was, who they were before, and what that goal they each wanted to make their efforts matter fell flat. went mute. went unseen, uncared for. why do i care that they care about the hotel? we don't see any of Charlie's hard work pay off. we just skip to 5 months later with characters having no change to themselves other than being told that they have. we don't see Angel taking better means of handling himself, husk being easier on the patrons, or pen finding better confidence in his approaches. we see nothing of the sort being worked on. where these characters have their own episodes to explore these human sides of themselves that still beat in them if they just listen for it. we just get told they did it. When these moments of care we need to feel come at us, I ask, why should i care? when you pull the same move of "but why, why can't you do this, let me egg you on till you turn around with tears in your eyes, rendering me shocked" twice, once with Angel and once with Lucifer only a few episodes apart, why should I care? you did it once already, and now you do it again nearly in the same vein. when watching them smile, putting things back together, pressing F to pentious [im going to save him], and just being sunny side up. i just felt anger. it wasn't earned. nothing was earned. no one did anything to earn this joy. charlie did nothing to earn this. lucifer did nothing to earn this, no one did anything to earn this ending because we saw no work to this. Just Angel being abused was the worst of a demon and his abuser. we don't see anyone else suffer the fate of being in hell. not pentious with why hes there. not nifty with why she's there. not even husk with his deal with AL and the only time was when he bad-mouthed him behind his back. but we dont see the gravity of his own deal. just angels and it happens twice , once for literally no reason other than to just give people the reminder of how big and mean val is and how meek and easy to attack Angel is for vivs pleasure. nothing was earned at the end. no one won anything and nothing has changed. if i am to be corrected, i remember one of the trailers did show there would be a season 2 on the Twitter i think? i may be wrong. the show was just an unearned nothing sammich. also, Al's swearing rots my soul. why is he swearing so much. i held better standards than for Al to swear as much as they made him. it takes away whatever charm, behavior, and manners, are left with him. I'm not saying the man isn't allowed one potty word, in certain instances, I feel like him letting out a swift "damn it to hell." would work if he was in hot water. but him just swearing like angel or husk. "oo im gonna fuckin kill you." doesn't scare me. or put that fear I should have or expect others to have in me. as Al just has tentacles and gets a growth spurt. I won't lie, his demon form is very boring. just long limbs, big horns, and black gunk coming out your back. very boring indeed.

I like that, a hunger for when this all would make sense. That sums up Viv's work in a nutshell, and that moment never comes.

#Anonymous #viv stuff #actual blog post #vivziepop critical

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