#FROTHING at the mouth you don’t know me you don’t underSTAND | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cherryredstars · 5 months

Note

holy sbit i just read your actor!mig oneshot and i’m frothing at the mouthjfjfjdand it got me thinking

how would reader react if mig had to do a sex scene for a movie? i mean she’d be fine with outwardly but inwardly, understandably she’d be jealous asf, even though there is security in their relationship i feel like it would be difficult, how would mig react to her being insecure? or maybe jealous because of that🥹

(i saw ur requests were open and i couldn’t help myself, tysm for reading this and you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to i love your work regardless<333)

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Insecurity, Mirror Sex, Praise, Fingering, Oral Sex, Mentions to Breeding Kinks

Summary: Nothing but a good sex scene.

Word Count: 2K (Not Edited)

Part 1

The internet sucks.

You know that, Miguel knows that, everyone knows it. Yet, here you are, hurting your own feelings as your phone feeds you countless posts about your boyfriend and his new movie. His new movie that also stars a really popular, really really pretty female co-star. Who he had sex with. Cinematically. In the movie.

Movie sex is not real sex. Miguel says and reminds you all the time. Most of the time, sex scenes only consist of the actors being shirtless and zoomed in shots of their upper bodies. Convenient things like a perfectly placed object or being under the sheets hid the fact nothing is actually going on. Miguel always assures you that, if the directors want a real sex scene, he’d be out of there in seconds.

But still, all the edits and tweets and pictures that are filling up every corner of the internet make your skin raise and ache. It definitely looks real. It’s not really a surprise, Miguel and his co-star are wonderful actors. They’re so good at their jobs. It makes you feel gross. Especially when you can’t stop replaying the scene over and over again. It’s not hard to find it, the scene devours the internet like a wildfire.

She looks pretty. No, not pretty, gorgeous. Hot and sexy and erotic. Nothing like you at all. Her skin is impossibly smooth, shiny and soft. Her lips are painted in a deep red that pops against her skin and draws attention to her perfectly sculpted face. Even if it weren’t for the lipstick, the calculated moans she makes for the camera draws your attention to her mouth. Her moans are perfectly pitched. They’re breathy and her mouth forms the perfect ‘o’. It makes you rub at your throat, an uneasy feeling getting stuck there. You don’t moan like that.

Her facial expressions are amazing too. Brows furrowed in a way that perfectly showcases her pleasure. But they don’t look funny or distort her face too drastically. When her eyes roll back, her eyelashes flutter so nicely. She doesn’t look possessed or ugly. Your hand subconsciously rubs at your cheek. You don’t look so effortlessly pretty like that.

It ruins you. Why would Miguel possibly want to have sex with you if he has pretty, hotter co-stars? The thought sticks with you even with Miguel on top of you. Usually, you’d be on your back, legs spread and exposed for his viewing pleasure. But you can’t, not today. So Miguel has begrudgingly agreed to take you in a different position. Your ass is in the air, upper body pressed into the mattress. Your face is completely hidden from his view, something Miguel isn’t the happiest about. What’s even worse, he can barely even hear you. You’re pushing your face into one of the stupid pillows, muffling the minimal sounds you’re making.

Usually, you’re moaning and whining uncontrollably under him. Your mouth never shutting as noise spills from your swollen lips. It drives him crazy to hear your verbal pleasure. The pleasure he gives you. Sometimes you’re babbling broken sentences or just calling out his name, but it's everything to him. So hearing almost complete silence from you, paired with not being able to see your reactions, shoots worry through him.

He tries everything he knows drives you crazy. He leans forward and pinches and tugs at your clit. It twitches in his fingers, but you don’t make your usual gasps. He spreads your legs wider and juts his hips into you with more force, hitter deeper against your wall. You don’t give him that beautiful, high-pitched scream of his name. You instead, shove your face into the pillow and hum. He leans in and whines into your ear about how tight you are. How he really, really wishes the two of you would throw away all protection so he can fill you up with his baby. Instead of begging and babbling, you wiggle your hips and push back into him.

Something awful hits his chest. Did he do something wrong? Are you upset with him? Are you not feeling well? Does it not feel good?

He instantly stills, all the arousal he once had disintegrating. He pulls out slowly, not wanting to hurt you. You turn to him in confusion, brows furrowed from over the pillow. He flips you over gently, turning you on your back and dragging you close to him. You still have that pillow pressed to your lower face, arms wrapped around it. You look like a damn vision, naked before him with your hair spread out on the bed. You look like an offering with that white pillow covering your face and chest, leaving him to only focus on your big doe eyes and the fact your legs are spread to accommodate his body. Innocent and cute and sexy.

His hands land on your outer thighs, warm and big as they rub up and down your skin. It makes you melt into the bed, a sleepy look masking your eyes. Miguel’s heart sings at the pure content on your face, but it doesn’t drown out his concern. He can feel unease in the air and his hair stands on end. Slowly, you pull the pillow away from your face as you realize he isn’t going to slip back inside of you.

“Why y’stop?” you call out shyly to him, a small pout on your lips. You seem nervous and Miguel’s hands tighten on your thighs.

“You’re acting differently. What’s wrong?” He counters.

You grow bashful under him, pulling the pillow up to hide your cheeks that are colored in shame. You simply shrug, turning away from him as you slowly start to close your legs. He doesn’t stop you, but he doesn’t take his hands off of you. He helps you sit up when you make the move to, his hand moving to grasp both of yours. He gives them a comforting squeeze and a kiss to your forehead. Your eyes flutter shut, breathing in the comforting clean scent he carries.

“What’s wrong, mi vida?” He asks again.

You don’t respond. But you don’t have to. Miguel looks at you like he knows. He always knows. Tentative and caring Miguel who always knows. His kiss to your forehead is rougher, more pressure behind it before he pulls away. The way he carries you is effortless, like he’s carrying a bag of feathers. He moves the two of you to the opposite side of the bed, directly in front of the wall of mirrors that make up the walk-in closet. He sits down first, maneuvering you to sit on his thigh with your back pressed to his front.

Your eyes are glued to your reflection, naked against Miguel with nothing but a fluffy pillow hiding you. His face nudges at your jawline and neck. He places soft kisses along the skin, distracting you as he takes the pillow from you. He places it to the side, still within your reach. Your fingers itch to grab at it again, but you resist. Instead, you close your eyes and focus on the way Miguel’s fingertips glide over your warm skin and make you shiver. You lean back into him, head resting against his shoulder. His hands travel down, and you bury your face into the crook of his neck to hide your gasp. His fingers caress the lasting stickiness between your thighs, his own leg moving to widen yours. You peek at the mirror from beside his neck, eyes falling to the glistening between your thighs. Your cheeks heat and you nuzzle your face into Miguel as a way to hide. He hums against you, hand still moving and collecting your juices on his finger. You whimper when he pushes it in, thumb swiping gently over your clit.

“Shh, taking it so well, mi hermosa. My pretty baby.” He coos gently into your ear, curling his finger inside of you.

Your hips buck instinctively, another whine leaving as his finger grazes your walls. His other hand comes to massage your hip and your eyes catch the movement in the mirror. Miguel is looking at the mirror too, studying you. His touch is soft, his finger pumping in and out of you slowly. You moan into his neck, eyes fluttering when he adds another. They scissor inside of you, meeting together to curl. Your hand comes up to hold his, taking it away from your hip and squeezing it tight to stabilize you.

He hums into your hair, muttering soft praise into the strands. His fingers continue curling, going to the knuckle so he can press onto the gummy spot inside of you. You can’t hold in your moans anymore, giving them freely to him. It makes him smile, kissing the crown of your head.

“That’s it, singing so prettily for me, yeah?” He asks, letting go of your hand to grab your chin.

He removes your face from his neck, making you face him. Your eyes are droopy from pleasure, and your lips are parted slightly so soft moans can escape. It makes his cock jump, but he ignores it to give you a sweet kiss. It’s soft and passionate. His lips opened and slanted against yours. His tongue is warm as it slips into your mouth, caressing your own until the both of you are moaning into each other's mouth. It makes your head foggy and you forget all about what you were scared about before.

When Miguel pulls away, he turns back to the mirror and groans at the sight of you. You’re slick is dripping down his fingers and your skin fucking glows in the reflection. His fingers speed up, his thumb pressing into your swollen bud.

“Been thinking about you so much, y’know that. Was fucking fantasizing about you during that whole movie. Imagining doing all those things in the script to you drove me fucking crazy. Had to take care of myself in my dressing room thinking about your cute little noises and the faces you make. Mi hermosa nena.”

The little whimper you let out paired with the tightening of your walls is fucking precious. He pulls you into another kiss, quickening his fingers until your whole body is twitching. You have to pull away from the kiss, your hand clawing to his arm and nails digging in as your moans get louder. With a hard flick to your clit and the curling of his fingers, your body is shaking with an orgasm. Your toes curl, head thrown back against his shoulder as he finger fucks you through your orgasm.

“That’s, that’s my beautiful girl. Ride it out baby, I got you.” He mumbles against your shoulder, pressing kisses along the curve of skin.

He only stops pumping into you when your hand pushes him away. Your body is heaving with the effort of breathing, and Miguel watches every second through the mirror. When you finally compose yourself, you nuzzle into his skin. It makes Miguel smile, kissing your hair again before gently lifting you off of his lap and laying you down on the bed. You watch hypnotized as he sucks his fingers into his mouth, humming around them before popping them back out. You whine softly at him, and he chuckles down at you.

He leaves you on the bed, vanishing into the bathroom before coming back with a towel. It makes your brows furrow, leaning up and your elbows as he begins to clean you up.

“But… What about you?” You ask, eyes trailing down to his prominent hard-on.

Miguel follows your line of sight, shaking his head when he looks back up at you. “Don’t worry about it baby, all I care about right now is you.”

His confession makes you melt, letting yourself sink into the bed. His touch is gentle as he cleans you, and he throws the towel to the floor when he’s done. He hovers over you, leaning down to kiss you softly before resting his head against yours.

“Te amo, mi amor.”

And you know. He always lets you know.

1K notes · View notes

whatsitzface · 5 months

Text

The way Annabeth was thinking so far ahead of Percy that Percy was confused. The way she refused to elaborate on anything, and then was like; 'I'm surrounded by idiots' whenever someone (Percy) didn't understand her. The way she looked so smug after she pushed Percy into the water and he got claimed. THE WAY SHE WAS SO BLUNT!!!!! ("ARE YOU STALKING ME??" "yeah lol")

Sorry, but that's the most accurate Annabeth in the world holy smokes Leah did such a good job. All my forgotten love for Annabeth's character that I felt while reading the books just crashed into me full force and I'm frothing at the mouth with obsession.

“-You’re gonna expect me to know how to do something I don’t know how to do, and I end up falling flat on my face, I- I can’t really have that right now.” “You still don’t get where you fit into all of this, do you?” SHE’S TALKING ABOUT THE PROPHECY AND HOW SHE KNOWS HE'S A POSIEDON KID, BUT SHE HIDES IT AS HOW HE DOESN’T KNOW HIS PLACE IN THE CAPTURE THE FLAG GAME!!!! BECAUSE SHE WON’T TELL HIM!!!! AND ITS EPIC BECAUSE IN THE CAPTURE THE FLAG GAME HE DOES FALL FLAT ON HIS FACE, BUT IN THE PROPHECY HE DOES GET HIS DAD TO SEE HIM!!!! And then she fixes his armor plate, making sure that its secure. Making sure he won't get hurt. That's not part of her plan, and things always go according to her plan. She's the game master. IM SCREAMING

#just posting some of my thoughts because I haven't seen anyone else going feral over annabeths portrayal yet #she was by far my favourite part holy shit idk what crack leah laced in her characterization but I am so addicted #HER SMUGNESS #HER APOLOGETIC LOOK BEFORE PUSHING PERCY INTO THE WATER #NO SOCIAL SKILLS - ALL BLUNT ANSWERS AND LAME ASS JOKES #shes just skipping under the invisibility cap #meandering after Percy as Clarrise beats him up #whistling out of tune while vaugely wondering how she'll get Percy to let her join his quest after this #im sorry but i am so crazy about her portrayal holy smoking Hephaestus someone help me #pjo+#percy jackon and the olympians #silly mispelled trending tag #percy jackson #annabeth chase

413 notes · View notes

dolldefiler · 1 month

Text

[To clarify, I don't actually have a harem]

C/W: Misogyny, FFM, Rimming,

I’d love to make a pair of girls compete with each other for a place in my harem. I’d test them on how nasty they could be, how fucking depraved they would turn themselves for male validation.

One of them would begin well, begging to eat my ass or to gargle my balls. Anything to please me. It’d turn me on so fucking badly to hear such filth leave her mouth. Her competitor would notice how she’d make my cock throb with her words and push her mouth onto my cock to shut her up, forcing her to gag at the sudden invasion. She’d struggle but her gender traitor friend would hold her tight, repeating that filth while she looks up at me. She’d hold the weak, pathetic slut still before beginning to make out with my asshole. The little bitch would reach around and pull the poor girl’s hair closer to me, choking her until she bubbles and froths on my hard, pulsing shaft.

She’d hurt her because she’d understand that sisterhood is about betraying women for a man’s pleasure. She’d eagerly alternate between my ass and balls, licking up the throat spit that pathetically drips down the choked out whore’s chin. She’d do all that for my pleasure.

All to eventually cum inside one of their pretty little cunts. After all, women don’t deserve to cum. A man’s cum is the closest thing to an orgasm they’ll get.

She’d know to act like the perfect little gender traitor. A victim that creates other victims with no self-worth. Good girls make more good girls.

Tell me… who would you be? The vicious gender traitor? Or the poor, pathetic victim?

#misogyny kink #gender traitor #patriarchy kink #ass rimmer #rough kink #degradation k1nk #degrading k1nk #humiliation kink

249 notes · View notes

yawneon · 3 months

Note

luke with dionysus!reader where he tries to convince them to join him but reader has a good relationship with their dad so they can’t understand? 👉👈

THE PLEADS OF A SNAKE

pairing : luke castellan x reader

summary : in which luke castellan tries to convince you the gods are evil, they are the sickly ones. right?

!!! : charlie luke not hot book buzzcut era coriolanus jason luke (but every version of luke is hot), unedited and unread (im so tired pls it’s 1 am), crazy luke, i love dadionysus

a/n : I FUCKING LOVE THIS PROMPT IM FROTHING AT THE MOUTH LET ME FUCKING COOOOOOOK 😈😈‼️‼️‼️‼️

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

it was cold at camp, usually the days were warm throughout, but today was off. everything seemed off. the trees swayed in the wrong ways and the campers were messing everything up when you were teaching archery basics. today was weird.

you walk to the big house from the lake in camp, your mind wandering places much further than the boundaries in camp half-blood. you watched as the wind hit the grass and the leaves but today just didn’t seem… right.

a group of campers all huddle around a table at the arts & crafts building they all seem, weird?

maybe it was you. maybe you were tired and your mind was playing tricks on you. today was the day percy came back to camp, maybe it was that.

you walk down past the volleyball courts, a group of losing and very angry ares kid’s were versing a group of extremely sly and giggly hermes kids obviously riling the opposing team up. you walk past knowing you would have to split that up later.

the walk to the big house seemed almost ritual at this point. your father was the MR D, the big dog of camp half blood. being one of dionysus’ only children at camp currently you have been appointed to ahem, cabin 12 counselor which mainly consisted of telling your 2 brothers to shut up.

many campers envied you and your tight knit family relationship. having mr d as your dad wouldn’t seem the most optimal parent by seeing his fiery temper sometimes and his lack of effort to remember names but in reality you had hit the godly parent lottery.

although at times you don’t know if you should call him dad or mr d, a life with dionysus was never a boring one i give you that. from the game nights at the big house to being an all year round camper, you were eternally grateful to have such a funny yet theatrical dad.

the sunlight pans down onto the path infront of you, the smell of summer still lingers in the air despite winters call. the green grass swishes in the wind and the trees follow. you took in a deep breath before your eyes land on the big, blue house infront of you again.

your steps to the big house became faster, the crave for some fatherly advice becoming stronger. you push open the door and you look for your dad. you see him sat at a round table next to chiron and they play a game of cards. you sit at an empty chair and you sigh down.

“whats wrong with you?” dionysus furrows his eyebrows, his worry hidden by his pursed lips.

“dunno. something about today just seems so…” you try to explain but the words can’t come out and your brain gets all fuzzy trying to describe it.

“yeah. right.” mr d furrows his eyebrows further as another tight-lipped expression is following on his lips. chiron gives him a hardened look. his eyes saying comfort your child silently.

your dad pushes out a slight sigh and he looks up at you, “you’re probably just in your head, kid. go swing your sword around and i’ll organise something with your brothers tonight.” his face softens. dionysus wasn’t the best at showing his love, especially when he was banished to live and direct this camp but despite all that he always showed up as a father so you listened to him.

you nod quietly standing from the chair you were sat in. you say your goodbyes to the two men and you walk to the armory, the hair on your arms standing up as you do.

the sun begins to lower in the sky, yellow and orange paint the horizon beautifully. the bright sun sinks slowly behind the trees into the west. your walk to the armory was dreadfully uneventful, the scattered campers staying to themselves as you walk by. you had bent the main sword you use so the armory was your first stop instead of the arena.

you push the door to the armory open slowly.

dust flies into the air and light pours into the dark room from the doorway. you walk into the armory, the smell of rusted metals and bronze hitting you in the face quickly. you scrunch your nose in defiance to the smell and continue to look around.

your eyes landing on a spare sword. you reach up for it and pull it down slowly, your eyes landing on the blade. you stare into the reflection of the blade turning it in different angles to distort the sun.

twisting it one way then another and when you turn it to the left, you realise that your reflection is not the only one.

“luke?” you turn quickly out of shock. your head whips around and you jolt forward slightly getting a small freight.

“hi.” he says deadpanningly, his eyes are wide yet something was behind them. luke’s eyes did not look like his own today.

he looks like he was longing for something, a small twinge of regret hidden beneath his brown irises. regret and anguish.

you face him, a hand wiping over your forehead. “when did you get there?”. your eyes trail back down to the blade in your hands and your fingers run along the edge collecting dust along the pads of your pointer and thumb.

you let out a comforting breath and walk towards him, “seriously you almost gave me a heart attack” wiping the dirt from the sword onto your orange shirt. clouds cover the sun in the sky for a moment and the sunlight in the room dims as you look up at him trying to piece together the puzzle of his expression.

“go on a walk with me? i need to tell you something” luke musters out quickly, his hand whipping out to grab onto your arm. the squeeze he gives your bicep is a begging one, a begging cry for you to please say yes.

it’d be a lie if i said you didn’t have butterflies in your stomach right now. luke has something to tell you, alone. the kaleidoscope of butterflies (yes thats what a group of butterflies is called i googled it) flutter around hopelessly in the pit of your stomach and a light blush appears on your cheeks.

you give him a soft nod and purse your lips together before verbally agreeing, “alright..”

you’re the one that leads luke into the forest, a small talk conversation happening between the two of you. usually he’d be talkative and engaged in the moment but the way his jaw clenches and his muscles tense you can tell something is not right.

you and luke walk silently next to eachother into the dense forested area of camp half blood. the sword in your hand swishing at bushes beside you. you spare him a few glances before turning away.

you like luke castellan, honestly it was hard not to. he was helpful, he was kind, he was thoughtful and oh gods was he a sight to see. your eyes trail from the ground infront of you to the blade in your hand and then to luke only to find he was already looking at you.

“why’re you looking at me like that castellan?” you laugh it off softly hiding your bashful expression from him as you look to your feet. luke stops walking, his hand wrapping around your arm as he stops you too. he tugs you back gently his eyes conflicted.

luke’s eyes bore into yours and his mouth opens to speak but he seems doubtful for a moment. he steps towards you, the proximity between you and him closing.

lukes hand raises to touch your cheek but he hesitates.

he had never hesitated to touch you, to embrace you, to laugh with you. why now was he?

you and luke had been tightly knit ever since he came to camp. you were young when you were brought into camp, 3 years old. your mother had not enough resources to bare a child and in a plead of desperation your father had appeared to take you to camp. luke and you were the same age when he came to camp and the two of you caught on quite quickly, all a bit too well.

luke and you had this sort of push and pull relationship, you liked eachother but you weren’t in the most ideal place to date.

yeah sure, maybe you two would sneak out far past curfew ans swim in the lake together and perchance you two shared a kiss under the warm moonlight, his hands wrapped tightly around you as your own reach to his cheeks but no you two weren’t offical.

you were friends, right?

“whats up?” you look up at luke puzzled at his uncertain movements and his darting eyes. you catch his hand in your own before it could drop to his side. luke gulps silently, and he speaks.

“join me, love.” he rasps, a pleading almost hungry eyes on you.

“what?”

“j-“ he stutters his eyes becoming more erratic like he was itching to tell you he needed you.

“join me, the gods have failed us my love, join me and kronos.” luke’s hands grab onto your arms clutching at them tightly.

your hands however harden around the hilt of your blade as your eyes search his. “luke what the fuck are you saying?” you laugh out, not because you find it funny.. more because you’re lost, what did he mean?

“the gods have failed us! they have failed their children! they don’t care for us, they just want us to fight their battles!” he exclaims and you thought he was joking at first. joining kronos? the titan lord that ate his kids and was banished to tartarus? THAT kronos?

the moon becomes higher in the sky and the light from the sun fades as he breathes out shakily.

“luke what do you mean failed us?” you shake your head, the expression on your face fading from confused smile to just pure confusion. “luke the god’s where the only people who came for me, who cared for me.” your eyes drift down towards your sword and luke’s eyes follow yours. he notices the way your smile drops and the way confusion laces your tone.

luke takes a step back, his stare stiffening. “no no no, i don’t think you’re understanding what im saying.” he shakes his head now, his eyes going from your eyes to the sword in your hand. “i’m telling you.”

“join me and kronos, i am telling you to.. not asking.”

you’re head tilts and some sort of ache appears inside of you. the boy that you liked, that you loved is joining the army of the most evil and twisted being in tartarus. the boy that you would willingly give your heart to is joining kronos’ army.

you couldn’t wrap your mind around his words. the gods have failed us.

the gods have failed, us. the word ‘us’ in that sentence felt empty. luke knew that his words were a lie. the god’s have never failed you, your dad never failed you. luke knew by the way your eyes looked at him, he knew you would never agree.

“listen to me, i need you.” luke whines and pouts, its like if a switch flicked on in his brain. you take your own step back, you look him up and down. you didn’t see his backbiter sleathed tightly on his hip before. you take a gulp of your own and your eyes focus on his.

luke’s eyes darkened and a smile curls onto his lips, “you know i love you!” he insisted. the way his expressions changed from almost fearful, to demanding, to hungry and then to downright shrewd sent a chill down your spine.

the moon raises higher and higher, you don’t remember how long ago you walked into these woods with luke and gods you didnt even know if you’d walk back out. the one thing you did know however was that whatever luke was suggesting now, you’d never give into it.

“is this a joke? it has to be.” you let out a puzzled breath that you didn’t even register you were holding. the trees rustle against a gust of warmer wind and you furrow your eyebrows at luke. “join kronos? luke are you serious?” your voice comes out sounding more sour than intended.

“what? are you saying that the gods didn’t fail me? that my father does care?” luke’s voice raises, “you- !” his voice stops abruptly with a scoff, he was trying to hit you hard with a line like your dad doesnt care either! but oh boy would he be wrong. the way his face contorts and his fists clench you can tell he’s thinking harshly about something.

he let’s out a sigh and his irises dart quickly as he tries to think up something.

“darling, please. i need you. we can run away together, we can rule! we don’t need to be confined by the gates and the prophecies here! we can make our own, we can rule olympus, join me. it’s the only way.”

“luke you know that isn’t true,” you try and reason with him and your voice softens. it didn’t have to be like this, he didn’t have to be like this. “luke c’mon. talk to me. you don’t have to do this.” you go to take a step forward to touch him but his eyes meet yours in a sickly bitter glare.

his hand bolts to his sword and he reaches out pushing you to the ground, the point of the backbiter flush against your neck. the blade gleams in the moonlight, his reflection shining in the bronze.

“luke what is this?!” you breathe out shakily, your own sword trapped between the dirt and your hand.

“i’m sorry-“ he grieved down at you. “you weren’t listening to me.” luke runs his free hand through his brown curls.

“you need to come with me.” he presses the sword closer to your asophagus, “you are coming with me.”

the stars shine quietly down at the both of you. his heart broke a little by the way you looked at him. no butterflies present in your stomach. the only thing left were hollow cocoons of the once fluttering fleet of love.

“what happened to you luke?” your eyes squint at him holding back the tears that were threatening to fall down your cheeks and you tremble softly trying to understand what the fuck is going on. “we were so good to you.” your head shakes in disbelief. “luke i love you.”

his lip trembles and his eyebrows quiver at your words, he didn’t want this. he didn’t want to hurt you, luke tried to stop. he tried to supress the voice in his dreams egging him on, telling him that the gods were the evil ones. but the promise of letting you and him live on a beach house just like you mentioned was too good to pass up.

the more he gave in and the more he listened, the promises and the wishes became faded, the need to destroy the gods and to get back at his dad became irresistable. he had forgotten the most important thing, you.

in this moment he tried to convince himself that this was what needed to happen, luke needed to protect you. he needed to bring you with him and he needed you to trust him but the way your eyes scrutinized him tore his flesh from his bones and his heart right out.

before he could withdrawl the blade from your neck group of voices barked out from within the trees.

i saw them go this way!

quick! find them!

“come with me please. we don’t need the gods, my love. we need eachother! dionysus doesn’t love you like i do, i’ll always love you but once you leave camp you’ll become like all the rest of his children; forgotten.” luke blurts out demandingly and worriedly.

“forgotten?” anger grows on your face and luke knows he fucked up. yeah you didn’t inherit your dad’s eyes but gods, did you inherit his temper.

“i love you.” luke chants over and over his voice becoming more pleading but the more he says it the less he looks like he means it.

“me or kronos luke?” you grit out angrily and you observe as his face drops. as his eyes widen and look around nervously. you repeat your question and you’re shoulders tense, anger building up quickly.

the footsteps of campers near the two of you and the lights from their torches grow bigger and the calls of your name become more clear as they near. the concerned voices of your brother’s increasing in volume as luke stares at you in silence.

he looks to the lights of campers and back to you. luke opens his mouth to say something, the grip on the hilt of his sword slipping but he is quick to tighten it again.

luke turns on his heel and pushes off it attempting his escape, your own eyelids widen now and your jaw clenches. you reach out trying to pull him back, stupidly you grab the blade of his sword causing you to cut yourself. you bite back a pained groan and you give him a filthy glare as you clutch back your hand.

“coward!” you yell out, “fucking come back here!” you pull yourself up. before you could chase after him a hand grabs your shoulder.

your father peers down at you worry prominent on his eyes and he pulls you in tightly. “you kids,” he sighs into your hair lovingly and he squeezes you close “what am i going to do.” he whispers anxiously.

you’re sat around the table at the big house, your palm was attended to by an apollo kid quickly and your uninjured hand is held tightly by your brother, castor.

“luke is the lightning thief.” chiron grits out, his hine leg stomping.

you’re mind wanders off as you lose your focus on the conversation.

lukes words ran around your mind, ‘join me’, ‘you will be forgotten’, ‘i love you.’

you didn’t believe a word he said.

your lip trembles and your eyes close tightly stopping the tears from cascading down your face.

luke was the boy that would lean down to kiss your hands, the boy to smile at you so sweetly, the boy that would follow you into the dark. the way he looked at you so sourly and the way he gritted out his words.

that wasnt the luke you fell inlove with, that luke is gone. that luke packed up his things and took your heart with him.

and you’d be dammed to let him keep it.

@yawneon

#percy jackson #pjo #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo series #pjo tv show #luke my crazy bf #charlie bushnell #charlie my bf #percy jackson x reader #luke castellan i can fix you

192 notes · View notes

rosebudfics · 5 months

Text

Girl Dad

Snape x Muggle! Reader

Request: "one of severus being a girl dad when she is a baby and he spends a day with her" by @chocolatetyrantfire

Warnings: Baby's name is B/N, didnt really read it over, and uhh idk lmao

A/N: haiwbsjsbwkwjw.. I love the idea of dilf Snape *froths at the mouth* also ik muggle reader isn't in the request but I felt like having a muggle reader so.. <3

It was the summer so Snape had no work (well, besides all the death eater jobs) and he could enjoy it with you and your little baby girl.

That was until one day you had been called into work in the early hours of the morning.

You groaned when the phone started ringing and answered it to hear your boss complaining about how one of your coworkers didn't show up and they were short staffed for the day.

You sighed then offered to come in and work even though this was your holiday. You hung up and looked down at Severus, slowly shaking him awake.

“Sev, I gotta go to work..” you said, your voice slightly raspy from not long waking up.

“What..?” His face scrunched up, not opening his eyes. “Isn’t this your holiday?”

“Yeah, well.. They're understaffed and need me, as annoying as that is,” you sighed, before getting up and rubbing your eyes.

Severus groaned before rolling over to watch you get dressed. He watched as you slipped on a blouse and jeans, turning on a lamp to see what you were doing because it was still dark outside.

“The baby’s bottle is in the fridge, make sure to warm it up but don’t overheat it, and make sure she has a bath too, and get her down for her 1 o’clock nap if you can-” You started rambling on as you went into the bathroom attached to their bedroom.

Severus had gotten up and was padding over to you, before shushing you. “We’ve done it together for a while now, I can handle it. Can you handle it, though?”

You sighed as you grabbed your toothbrush, looking up at him. “This is going to be one of the first times I actually leave you two.. alone. It's not that I don't trust you! It's just.. Stressful, she's my baby girl..”

“I understand, love… I promise I’ll protect her with my life,” He smiled down at you as he kissed your temple.

You returned the smile, “I know you will.” You then started to brush your teeth and the rest of your morning routine. Severus joined you in getting ready, but was interrupted by some sniffles and then an uproar of crying like it was every morning.

You both made your way to your baby’s room, and you softly picked her up to cradle her. “Good morning, sunshine… I know, mornings are tough, aren't they?” You softly spoke as Severus watched you hold B/N. His eyes soften at the sight.

You then smiled a little at him and handed you B/N. “I best get going.. I’ll see you after, hun,” You kissed the baby’s head then kissed Sev on the lips. “Love you,”

“Love you too, don't let them overwork you dear” Sev kissed you back as he followed you with the baby to the door.

You laughed dryly. “No promises. Love you so much” you gave him one last kiss before heading off, sprinting slightly to not be late.

Severus watched you as you left, then headed back inside when it started to get too cold. B/N was staring up at him with big eyes, before placing her hand on his nose. He smiled softly and grabbed her tiny hand in his, and kissed her forehead.

“Don’t tell anyone, but you are quite cute when you aren’t screaming.” Severus made his way to the kitchen, placing her in the high chair. He grabbed the milk from the fridge, using his wand to warm it up to just the right temperature. He placed the bottle in front of B/N. “Now I know you aren't stupid enough to not know how to drink from a bottle,”

The baby grabbed the bottle, maintaining eye contact with him before knocking it off. He caught it before it fell, placing it back in front of her, scowling. She and him repeated this process for a minute before he finally caved.

“Okay okay, I’ll feed you myself!” Sev groaned, picking the bottle up and placing it up to B/N’s mouth, and she drank it happily, smiling up at him. His eyes softened at her as he continued to feed her. After the bottle he spoon fed her sweet potato baby food.

Of course food got all over the place since she was a baby and didn't know how to eat properly, babbling and giggling. So after breakfast, he quickly cleaned everything up with a swish of his wand and brought B/N upstairs to the bathroom for a bath.

He made sure the water was a nice warm temperature so she was comfortable.

Once she was in the bath he added a couple toys in the water to keep her occupied while he cleaned her.

Once he tried her all off, he placed her in the playpen in the living room near but not close to the fireplace as he sat down on the couch to watch her play. She wobbled over to him and handed him a block, smiling up at her with a twinkle in her eye.

Severus smiled softly down at her, taking the block.

“You've got your mothers eyes.”

#professor snape #severus snape #severus snape imagine #severus snape x reader #severus x reader #severus x y/n #severus x you #pro severus #pro snape #severus snape x y/n #Dilf Snape #Girl dad Snape

268 notes · View notes

raraeavesmoriendi · 1 month

Note

Okay but watcher originally wasn’t going to leave the old videos up. Like that is something that they backtracked on and are trying to gaslight people about. They did an interview with Variety where they told them that they were going to slowly remove their content from YouTube.

I’m trying to figure out if you’re footstamping at me or what, but babe it’s not worth it.

they’re going to do with their videos what they deem they need to bc they’re not actually our weird friends and we don’t know them like that, they’re guys who make video series who are trying to figure out how to keep a studio afloat in a landscape currently dominated by media conglomerates owned by people like jeff bezos. that is the cut and dry of it. yeah, they probably changed their minds and reversed their earlier decision, but if anything the way people are frothing at the mouth about losing their ~comfort content~ (which. yikes don’t get me started), one would think that would be a relief.

look, I had a whole essay here but I have shit to do so, short version: watcher could have strategized and rolled this whole thing out differently, and who knows, maybe more things will change. maybe they’ll change their content output schedule for their own channel. maybe they’ll add shows or cut , or re-scale for international viewer accommodation. I’d hate to be their PR person right now. but it is what it is. if you can’t pay them, don’t. do not subscribe. literally no one is forcing you. if you wanna see their stuff that badly, find someone who can and password share. they literally said it was fine.

cards on the table, I don’t even know if I’ll be getting a sub until October, or at all, bc I’m a grad student and I have bills. but I’m not about to sit here and act betrayed and hope they fail a. because I’m an adult who understands that no matter the size of the staff, providing employee benefits and insurance costs money, as does making any kind of for-fun content in our current hellscape, and b. it’s kind of shitty to watch people turn around and act like a media company is their friends personally stabbing them in the back and betraying some grand marxist ethos when it’s literally just people who don’t have things like mousecorp and netflix behind them trying to make their shit on their own terms. I’m not going to sit here and pretend they’re some rich greedy corpos trying to wring money out of us poor broke smol beans out of malice when they’re not even in the same ballpark. they’re allowed to ask to be paid for their time and their labor. if people can’t pay them, then they can’t pay them, end of. some things we just have to go without and that’s just how it shakes out; there are worse and more critical things I could be missing out on that I will be paying that money for instead.

but I’m not about to insist their stuff be free forever because ~I want it~. because that’s not what it comes down to, in the system that we currently operate and exist under. I’m not entitled to their shit like that and frankly no one is.

watching people openly hope they crash and burn bc it won’t be free anymore just makes me chalk it up to one more shitty example of how consumer culture has just made people not think about how stuff is made as long as they can get that instant gratification, but like. water is wet, news at 11.

#rae grumbles #look I’m sorry if I’m terse here #but as someone with family who’s trying really hard to make it in the industry: this shit is way more expensive than people think it is #if this is what it takes to break even then I’m going to be like ‘okay that’s cool I can go without’#not like. curse their bloodline and act like they ran over my cat #you know what #watcher #to that one weirdo who’s keeping track of the ratio on the announcement video: babe go outside. please. take a walk. get some air.

114 notes · View notes

hacash · 1 year

Text

No you don’t understand I’m actually frothing at the mouth at the choice to make Colin take that position during the nudes discussion

because you can’t really claim he was doing it just to posture and fit in with the other guys; Isaac, Dani, Sam and Jamie were all firmly on the side of ‘delete, don’t look, do the right thing’ and he didn’t join in. Even if we know he wouldn’t actually have watched the videos as a gay man, he’s still perpetuating the idea that watching the videos of women leaked against their will is okay. And surely Colin of all people would understand that leaking private stuff like this hurts people? Given his status, I’d put money on Colin never sharing nudes with boyfriends, for obvious reasons. So is his view ‘well I’m always super careful; these women should have been careful too it’s their own fault’? Would Colin consider a woman’s nudes being leaked to be less traumatic than, say, a queer man being outed against his will? And we can guess Colin dates a lot of out guys, but what about the nudes of closeted gay men that he might date? Men who also wouldn’t like those spread around? Isn’t Colin as careful with those as Sam is with his ex-gfs pics? And come on dude what was with the whole ‘they’re my property’ thing? How much of this is garden variety casual obtained sexism and stupidity and how much is the entitlement and slight self-centredness that comes naturally to a guy who would have entered the Premier League as a teenager?

now this may sound like I’m getting at Colin but again you don’t understand, because the Ted Lasso writers could have given me an unproblematic gay baby and instead they’ve given me flaws and nuance and complications all played by the prettiest face this side of Cardiff, I’m fucking delighted with Colin’s character right now.

#ted lasso #ted lasso spoilers #colin hughes

990 notes · View notes

porcelainseashore · 4 months

Text

Ghosts from the Past (3)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Agent! Leon Kennedy x Dancer! Informant! Fem! Reader

Summary: 7 years after leaving behind everything you’ve known, you’re suddenly thrust into facing a ghost from your past, Leon. Navigating where you stand with him brings up old memories, painful truths and countless questions. At the same time, you have to deal with a bunch of strange occurrences at your dance company. Set after Resident Evil 4 Remake.

Warnings: 18+ Swearing, Recreational Drug Use, Alcohol, Eventual Smut, No (Y/N), Canon-Typical Horror and Violence, Blood, Injury, Torture, Infection, Medical Experiments, Psychological Trauma, Nightmares

Content: Post-Resident Evil 4, Exes to Lovers, Partners to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Lack of Communication, Romance, Fluff

Author's Note: Spoiler alert, but I want to be completely transparent here. There may be slight dubcon present: two characters were coerced into a kiss by a third party, with one of them being on ecstasy, though they consented to it before and after with check-ins.

AO3 Link

Chapter 3: Confession

“No!” Silje’s disapproval resounded against the four walls of the studio. “You’re not concentrating!”

Taking a drag of her cigarette as she walked up to you, a cloud of smoke swirled from her mouth. “What is going on with you?”

“I-” You looked down sheepishly, upset that you were performing way below her and your standards lately. Dealing with Leon coming back into your life and the impending event of betraying her coming up sooner than you expected, were distracting you from giving your best.

“I’m sorry, Silje. I don’t know what has gotten into me,” you apologized. “I’ll try again.”

With a flick of her wrist, she commanded, “Sit.” You knew better than to question her and did as she asked, planting yourself on the floor by the mirror, hugging your knees like a child who had been relegated to the quiet corner.

Pointing to one of the other principal dancers, she barked out another order, “Take her place.”

Silje turned over to you again with a harsh reminder. “The premiere is next week. If you’re not ready by then, you will not be a part of it.”

This performance was an important one for the company and you didn’t want to let your mentor down, much less miss out on the opportunity to dance the leading part to a grand hall filled with spectators, including the big-wigs of the arts world.

“I understand,” you nodded your head respectfully. “I will do better next time.”

Everyone got into position as Silje counted down to the start of the piece for the piano accompanist. The movements began like clockwork and you tried to remain attentive to the steps where you had slipped up earlier on. However, you couldn’t shake off the memory of your previous meeting with Leon, where he had almost caressed you with a tenderness you missed from back when you were both in love. You shivered at the invisible touch, like your body remembered and craved it. But maybe you were wrong and had just imagined the whole thing.

As you focused back on the choreography again, the principal dancer who had taken your part stopped abruptly, as if she was in a daze, only to start covering her ears like they were in excruciating pain.

“GET OUT! GET OUUUTTT!!!” Her screams pierced through the room as she shook her head violently, clawing at her face, leaving angry, red marks across her pale skin.

For a moment, everyone stood still in complete shock, unsure of what to do. The dancer dropped to the floor, eyes rolling all the way to the back of her head, as she convulsed and frothed white foam at the mouth.

“Someone call an ambulance!” Another dancer yelled, as people dashed around, trying to prop her up, holding her flailing arms and legs down so that she would not hurt herself.

You noticed a flash of dark veins that seemed to swim across her body, before disappearing again.

By the time the paramedics had arrived, the affected dancer had calmed down, but was in a catatonic state. The first examinations didn’t find anything particularly out of the ordinary, except for an irregular heartbeat, but they took her away on a stretcher to the nearby hospital to get her further checked out.

You eyed Silje’s concern as she tried to allay the fears of the rest of the company, passing it off as nerves and imagination. The stress of the premiere could take its toll after all.

Leon’s words about bioweapons and viruses came back to haunt you, while your hands trembled in response. Was this what Silje meant as the gift? Would you end up like the poor girl?

You felt the buttery, smooth texture of Silje’s gloves against your cheeks as she cupped your face gently. “My child,” she cooed. “Don’t worry.” Then, she stroked your hair lovingly like how a mother would. “I’ll make sure you’re prepared by then.”

Staring into the abyss of her black tinted sunglasses, you prayed silently that you would be when the time came.

━━━━━━━━━━━

After an exhausting dance practice and sending a follow-up report to Bergmann and Leon about the accident at the theater, you set off to have an early night as you would need to handle the meeting with Till at an unearthly hour the next day.

When you woke up it was still dark as night. The early morning chill greeted you as you rubbed sleep out of your eyes and prepared your makeup and outfit before heading to the club. Rounding the corner to its entrance, you saw the familiar endless queue lines which stretched out far into the distance. You wouldn’t be caught dead joining them.

At the side of the building, you spotted Leon with his trademark pout leaning against the wall. He was wrapped tightly in a longer coat, instead of his usual leather jacket, covering what you hoped would be the outfit you gave him the other day. As you came closer, you were relieved to see the leather harness peeking out from underneath it.

“Hey, you ready?” you breathed, misty vapor emanating from your mouth.

“I look ridiculous,” he complained.

“We should have a tip jar for every time you’re a Negative Nancy,” you joked, hoping to put him in a better mood.

His sour expression shifted to one you interpreted as slight amusement. “I’m always up for a challenge.”

You laughed, continuing, “Besides, I bet you’d look hot to the club patrons.”

His frown returned as he cocked an eyebrow. “And I’m supposed to find that reassuring?”

Rolling your eyes, you dragged him by the arm towards the bouncer guarding the door, ignoring the dirty looks you were given by those waiting in line. One of the benefits of being a regular was that you could skip to the front, even without your name on the guestlist, as long as you turned up the charm of course.

Throwing on the brightest smile you could muster, you let go of Leon and turned your attention towards the bouncer. He was a stout, beefy man clad in black, topped with a beanie and adorned with facial tattoos and piercings. You gave him a hug and a peck on the cheek. “Hallo, Bruno. Wie geht’s?” (Hi Bruno, how’s it going?)

Bruno was the typical tough guy bouncer you’d find at most clubs in the area, intimidating and not afraid to put up a fight when needed. Although he wasn’t one to be bribed financially, he had a weakness for beautiful women or charismatic ones like yourself.

Holding onto you in the embrace for a little longer than necessary before letting go, he sighed and shrugged in response. “Tja, viel los heute.” (Well, very busy today.)

Motioning to you and those surrounding you, he questioned, “Wie viele?” (How many?)

“Zwei.” (Two.) You pointed between yourself and Leon behind you.

Bruno’s face dropped, as he sucked his teeth and sized Leon up, obviously unimpressed. “Mit dem Amerikaner?” (With the American?) He attempted to clarify, as if hoping you would disagree.

Damn, he must have heard the last bits of the conversation you had with Leon in English before heading over to him.

“Ja.” (Yes.) The corners of your mouth were aching from maintaining the cheery smile.

The moment you saw the leery grin slowly spread across his face, you knew what he was going to ask for. You forgot how Bruno enjoyed his little power trips sometimes.

“Zeig mir, was du trägst.” (Show me what you’re wearing.) He indicated for you to open up your coat, even though he knew you always adhered to the dress code. He was merely tolerating Leon because of you.

Speaking of the devil, you saw Leon brush past you to confront Bruno. “Hey-!”

Bruno shoved him back roughly, sneering, “Was geht denn bei ihm?” (What the hell is wrong with him?)

You quickly placed yourself between the two of them, before Leon could get more aggressive and turn this into a makeshift fight club. Placing a hand on Leon’s chest and raising your other in front of Bruno as a sign to hold off, you whispered to Leon, “Come on, don’t.”

Leon caught your gaze with concern, his eyes seeking some form of acknowledgement that you were sure about this. Giving him a weak smile, you nodded. At this, he backed off grumpily, allowing the scene to unfold before him.

Bracing yourself for the cold, you unbuttoned your coat, taking in a sharp breath as you slipped it off your shoulders and bared yourself to the bouncer and those within the vicinity. Bruno’s eyes widened and he licked his lips as he took in the sight of your rope corset, intricately tied along your waist and framing your breasts, which were left open except for a sprinkle of rose gold glitter covering your nipples. Below, you wore a matching pair of nude rose, lace panties and garters holding up your thigh-high stockings.

To sweeten the deal, you gave him a 360-degree turn with a seductive smile to boot. From your peripheral vision, you saw Leon’s blazing blue eyes staring at you with an unreadable expression. You couldn’t tell if he was dumbfounded, appalled or awkward, but he couldn’t hide the redness that crept up from his neck to the sides of his face, as he swallowed thickly and bit the inside of his cheek.

Bruno shamelessly admired your outfit however, giving you a low wolf-whistle in approval. With that, you placed your coat back on, hugging yourself while trying to stop your teeth from chattering.

“Damn… Sexy Outfit.” He grinned.

Phew, fucking finally.

He pushed open the thick set of formidable-looking doors to the club, motioning for you and Leon to enter, grunting, “Viel Spaß!” (Have fun!)

Ducking in, you sensed the annoyance in Leon’s voice as he muttered under his breath, “Arschloch.” (Asshole.)

Inside, as per the house rules, you left your coats and phones in the cloakroom, though Leon took an unwarranted amount of time to remove his outerwear. It felt like coaxing a young child to eat their vegetables, but you got there in the end.

You were pleasantly surprised that he had done exactly as you asked him to. The translucent crop top and leather boxers fitted over his muscular physique like a glove, with his sculpted abs on show. As a finishing touch, the harness hung perfectly over his sinewy chest. He had managed to figure out how to wear that thing properly. Not bad.

“So, you approve?” He waved his hand up and down in front of your face, smirking.

Shit, were you staring? You blinked. “Uh-”

“Next time, take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He flipped his hair, gesticulating at you to lead the way, as you groaned at his cheesy comeback.

Pumping techno music blasted through the sound system, the heavy bass vibrating through your bones. Beckoning Leon with a curled finger to follow behind you, you waded through the swarm of practically naked bodies past the dance floor and the maze of rooms - one with filled with static TV screens in a midnight garden, another littered with confessional booths and hot pink neon lights, the dungeon area, an empty space save for a golden cage and a pole, and so on. It was like being Alice in Wonderland. In every corner, you could find all sorts of hedonistic acts in full, public display. From drug taking, to S/M play, to anonymous sex with strangers in dark rooms, people were completely unabashed, as if they wanted to lose themselves to the night and party like there was no tomorrow.

You wondered how Leon was faring with all of this, knowing it could be rather overwhelming for those new to the city’s nightlife culture - yourself included when you had first stepped into this establishment many years ago. Turning around, you noticed he attracted a lot of attention from the usual club-goers, as you had earlier predicted. He was busy trying to fend them off, growling, “Not interested,” each time through his gritted teeth.

“You ok?” you called out.

He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, shutting his eyes as he sighed in exasperation. “Yeah, just get me to Till already.”

“Um, I could leash you, if you want?” You offered, holding up the item in your hand and quickly explaining, “To stop them from coming on to you.”

“What?!” He sputtered.

“They’ll think you’re owned.”

Now you wished you had held your tongue, as Leon’s eyes nearly popped out of his head when you mentioned that.

“Ok, forget I said anything!” You raised your hands in surrender, but just as you were about to move off, you felt a firm grip on your shoulder.

“Wait.” He looked at you stoically, but you could tell how he was unnerved at the same time. “Do it,” he commanded.

You obliged, slowly reaching out to clip the leash on to the collar ring of his harness, giving him enough time to back out if he wanted to, but he didn’t. Gently, you tugged at it, bringing him further into the club, behind staff doors and underground, where your contact would be.

Reaching a backroom obscured by a beaded curtain and two bodyguards at the entrance, you informed them about your meeting with Till and they let you in, telling you to wait by the lounge chairs until you were called. You heard Leon clear his throat and realized you still had him by the leash, which could be taken off now that he was out of the rabid grasps of the crowd.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” You blushed, chewing your lip as you undid the clasp and put it away. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

“No.” He shook his head, as he rubbed the leather strap that was digging into his neck, unused to the sensation he felt there.

“If you’d asked me whether I saw this coming back in high school, I’d never have guessed it in a million years,” he laughed softly and for a brief moment you caught a glimpse of the same sweet-hearted boy you had grown up with.

He straightened himself, running a hand through his blonde locks, as his gaze shifted around you nervously. “So, you’re really into this sort of thing, huh?”

You puffed out a deep breath. It was a long story. To be honest, you put yourself out there as a way to adapt and survive in a city that was so different from anywhere you’d ever been to. You explored all its nooks and crannies, along with its vices, so to speak, making fast friends and taking any distraction you could get to suppress the loneliness and nightmares.

“Well… it’s alright,” you commented vaguely, avoiding any sort of eye contact with him. “I guess I just wanted to escape from the past.”

Before he had a chance to respond, you heard someone calling your name from the next room. Getting up, you made your way to a sectioned-off area laid with tatami mats. Billowy, white linen curtains draped around it, and behind them was a man sitting cross-legged with a deck of tarot cards spread out on the table in front of him.

The moment he spotted you, he leaped out and embraced you, giving you a double kiss on the cheeks. “Darling…” he greeted with an odd sing-song. “Always such a pleasure to see you.”

If there was a stereotype for how a criminal fence looked, Till wasn’t it. He wore a colorful kimono top and loose harem pants. His hair was covered in glitter and his face decorated with bold and flamboyant makeup that put yours to shame.

That said, Till could be friendly and light-hearted to a certain extent, but also incredibly shrewd and knew what things were worth. If you got too comfortable with him, he would bare his fangs. The shadows of his bodyguards always lurked nearby, never quite out of reach.

“And your friend?” He turned his attention towards Leon and winked. “Oh, he’s a handsome one.”

“Name’s Leon,” came the gruff reply. His hardened expression returned as he took a step towards Till. “Shall we get down to business?”

“Ah… so tense.” Till circled around, giving Leon a brisk massage on the shoulders which he attempted to shrug off. “Relax.”

“Come here.” Till gestured towards the mat, indicating that you should sit down, as he brought over two conspicuously red files, placing them at his side.

He then proceeded to empty out an off-white, crystalline powder from a resealable plastic bag onto a hand mirror lying on the table, using a card to cut up a thick line. Giving you a brazen grin, he extended the mirror over to you along with a straw. “It’s your favorite. Go on, you know the first one’s free.”

Just as you were about to give in to your temptations, Leon grabbed your arm and squeezed it tightly, his eyes clouded in a mixture of worry and disapproval.

“Tsk tsk, you’re no fun!” Till tutted at Leon, shifting the two red files towards him. “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about you.”

Leon reached out to take the files with his other hand, but Till slid them back like a cat-and-mouse game. “Uh uh. Money first, then pick one.”

“What about the other?” Leon questioned suspiciously.

“We’ll get to that when the time comes.”

At this point, Leon let go of you reluctantly, but not without giving you a warning glance, before trawling through his waist pack and dumping out a wad of notes onto the table.

“I think you and I both know that this info is worth another stack,” Till remarked testily, wearing a shark-like smile on his face.

“Fine,” Leon spat, tossing out another bundle.

Till purred in satisfaction, as he took the stacks of euro bills, giving them a huge whiff and soaking in the earthy smell of old paper.

As Leon picked up one of the red files and peered through its contents, you slinked forward, ignoring the awkwardness of getting your fix in front of him, and snorted up the line of MDMA that Till had divided for you earlier. The substance burned your nasal membranes and your eyes watered as you sniffed a couple of times for good measure, dabbing at your nose daintily with your fingers. The bitterness of it trickled down your throat, creating a foul taste in your mouth. The high would take at least half an hour to kick in. You made flimsy excuses to yourself that with all the recent happenings, you deserved to let loose just this once.

Leon observed you momentarily in silent disappointment, then went back to inspecting the fine print on the documents, his brows creasing in unease the more he went through them.

“Interesting, isn’t it?” Till’s melodic voice rang out, disrupting both of you from your reveries. “Who could imagine something as simple as mold held so much potential?”

You looked up in confusion until Leon handed you the file to review.

“Who else knows about this?” He shot Till a piercing stare.

“You’re the first client it’s passed through,” Till admitted composedly. “The contact details of the scientist who created that report is in this other file.” He waved it around in the air smugly. “Wouldn’t it be nice to acquire his access card?”

The report was about the experimentation going on in the labs and unlike what had been previously suspected, it wasn’t the Plaga. It was something entirely new, which Leon seemed not to have much of a clue about. A project named NEXBAS was underway, currently in the B-Type series, whatever that meant. You skimmed through a couple of female-sounding names given to specimens they infected with the prototype mold. It was an ambitious project that aimed to create B.O.W.s capable of mind control.

Shakily, you handed back the file to Leon. So this was the cause of all the hallucinations that the people at the theater had experienced. However, you still didn’t understand what Silje’s gift meant. Did she plan to make you a bioweapon too?

As Leon continued to take out additional cash to purchase the other file, Till giggled mischievously. “Oh no, no! I don’t want any more of that. It’s so… what’s the word? Boring.”

“How about we play a small game of truth or dare?” He suggested.

“What the hell?” Leon raised his voice in disbelief.

“Just one round.” Till looked in your direction. “Come on, darling. Entertain me. Truth or dare?”

Till definitely liked keeping people on their toes. He was a sly one. “Truth,” you replied, sealing your fate in this warped fantasy of his.

Leon sulked in the corner, awaiting what Till had in store for you.

“Have you two fucked?” He quizzed, unflinchingly.

Talk about being brutally blunt. You sucked in a quick breath as you heard Leon choke on his saliva.

“Yes,” you whispered, looking down at your feet in humiliation, unwilling to lie in fear of jeopardizing the meeting.

Till chuckled. “Aww, so shy… how cute!” He clapped his hands together in glee before facing Leon, who resorted to giving him death glares. “And you, big boy. Your turn.”

Leon pursed his lips. “Dare.”

“A man of few words,” Till rightly noted. “And so much tension!” He shook his head mockingly. “Tell you what, why don’t you go relieve some of it with her, right here?” You gasped, aware of the underlying meaning of his sentence as he pointed at you.

“You’re fucking insane!” Leon cried, getting out of his seated position immediately.

“I know, that’s what my shrink tells me!” Till roared with laughter. “Alright, since you’re my favorite customer-” He fluttered his eyelashes at you. “-I’ll make it simple. How about a hot, steamy kiss, hm?”

“And you’re just about coming up on that high, aren’t you? Delicious,” he added, smacking his lips suggestively.

You couldn’t deny how perceptive Till could be at times. The increasing waves of euphoria were clawing its way up from the pits of your stomach to your chest. You felt dizzy, but connected to every living and non-living thing in the room.

“Go direct your porno elsewhere, freak!” Leon yelled, before helping you to your feet, in an attempt to leave the place.

Till drew out his lighter, flicking it open at the remaining file in a threatening manner. “You sure about that?”

The drugs made you feel less inhibited, but the reason you favored them over alcohol was because for the most part, you still remained in control of your own actions. Tracing Leon’s jawline with your fingers, you tried to appeal to him calmly, “We need that file, Leon. It’s just a kiss anyway?”

“I-” He froze up, casting you a pained look. “I can’t do this to you. It’s not right.”

“I’m ok, if you’re ok with it,” you affirmed. “It’s not the drugs talking, I swear.”

He closed his eyes and sighed into your caress. “Let’s make this quick then.” Though his voice was still laced with doubt. “Promise you’ll stop me at any time you don’t feel comfortable. I mean it.”

“I promise,” you breathed.

Till tapped his foot impatiently. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

You nodded, stroking Leon’s cheek and encouraging him to go ahead. With that, he leaned in, taking your lips into a gentle kiss, soft as velvet like the first time he had kissed you under the starlit sky. Memories of when you had been together came rushing back, filling the emptiness that ached in your heart for years. You clung to him desperately as he pulled you closer into his arms, deepening the kiss which grew in intensity and it felt like your body was melting into his. Parting your lips, you allowed his tongue to slip inside and run it along yours, the sensation sending wild tremors through your nerves. It had been so long since you’d been kissed like this, you wondered if Leon felt the same way as you did in that very instant.

“Wow!” Till exclaimed, fanning himself with the file. “I’d say that was a 10 out of 10.”

You and Leon broke away from each other, lips wet and swollen with need, breathless and panting away heavily. You already missed the warmth of his mouth against yours.

“Wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Till held out the file to Leon, who snatched it away from him in disgust.

“By the way, in exchange for the access card, the scientist wants a guarantee of safe passage.” Till disclosed casually. “He specifically told me to reach out to someone like yourself.”

It dawned on you in horror that this whole time Till had played the game just to mess with the two of you. You actually didn’t need to ‘pay’ anything for the information, because it had already been paid for. By the scientist.

Leon was fuming, but it seemed like he knew better than to resort to physical violence with a man of connections who was well-guarded, and likely had a weapon or two hidden under his sleeve.

Till waved goodbye as you were escorted out the room. “It was a delight working with you!”

His statement was met with Leon raising his middle finger back at him.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Leon had insisted on watching over you, as you came down from your high at his place. You suspected he felt terrible about the whole ordeal with Till, but you didn’t know how else to convince him that it was fully consensual until you were sober. So you lay in a bathrobe on the living room couch, drinking plenty of water and listening to soothing music, while Leon typed up a report for HQ.

At some point, Hunnigan had gotten in contact with him about the updates she had researched. There were no Los Illuminados members involved in the current case. The remaining stragglers were disenfranchised and left in Spain. No trade routes between them and Germany had been found.

Based on the details you had given them about Silje’s ‘business partner’, they managed to capture footage of him from cameras they had planted outside the building. It turned out that he went by the name of Brandon Bailey, and was part of the crime syndicate known as The Connections. They had been building a base of operations for their bioweapon products in the surrounding regions.

Leon was given a deadline to close the base in Berlin before the upcoming shipment could take place. By the end of next week, everything had to be terminated.

A couple of hours later when you sobered up, you tried to broach the subject of the kiss with Leon. There would never be a good time to bring it up and you decided it was better to do so now than leave it to fester for later.

“I’m fine. I still feel the same as before,” you reassured him. “Do you?”

“Yeah, I do,” he murmured, yet he threw a troubled glance in your direction. “Doesn’t make it right though.”

“I mean, it was fucked up, but I-”

He cut you off, intent on following through with his line of reasoning. “You don’t deserve this.”

Don't deserve what? To be put in the firing line? You chose this life to be an informant yourself. Even so, the guilt was eating away at him. From his interactions, you were beginning to see how he wanted to protect you from getting hurt and doing things you would regret in the mission. But was that all?

Despite the countless thoughts running through your head, you carried on with the confession you never got to make when he had left for Raccoon City. “Leon… I still love you.”

It felt like all the air had been knocked out of your lungs as the words tumbled out of your mouth, so pure and unadulterated, and meanwhile, an overpowering sense of fear started to set in. Was it too soon to say such things?

He tensed up noticeably; the exact reaction you were dreading.

“What’s wrong?”

He pressed his lips together with a sullen look on his face. “There’s been someone else…” he trailed off.

Another woman. Your heart sank and you heard the sound of blood rushing into your ears. Well, at least you could move on now, right? That was your closure and consolation prize, along with feeling like such a fool.

“I see.” You tried to mask the quiver in your voice but to no avail.

“I’m sorry.” He held your hand for a fleeting moment, before he realized what he was doing. Letting it go, he excused himself and walked away, hiding the tears forming in his eyes.

From afar, a lady in red with long, black boots watched the window to the apartment closely, planning on when to make her next move.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy fluff #re4 leon #re4 remake #resident evil 4 #resident evil #porcelainscribbles

116 notes · View notes

livesincerely · 3 months

Note

on my hands and knees for a take a shot snippet 😭 i just know this fight is gonna take me out

Ask and you shall receive! But brace yourself

00000

“Jackie, stop,” Davey says, his voice shaking. “I know you wouldn’t, it ain’t like that—“

“Then what’s it like, Dave?” And now Jack can feel his own eyes starting to sting, a lump forming in his throat. “Explain it to me. Because I don’t understand.”

Davey’s mouth parts, his features drawn and pale.

“I… I can’t,” he breathes, the refusal nothing but a sigh on the wind.

“…You can’t,” Jack repeats quietly, and he feels something crack and crumble, deep inside. “You can’t? Wha⁠— What the fuck am I supposed to do with that, Dave? Huh?!” His voice breaks as it all comes pouring out of him, a geyser of feeling that’s finally erupted. “Am I supposed’ta jus’ sit around with my thumb up my ass, waitin’ for you decide I’m good enough to talk to again?”

“Jack⁠—”

“‘Cause that’s the thing, ain’t it, Dave? Jack spits. “It’s not that you can’t explain it⁠⁠—Race and the rest of ‘em, they all know damn well what the fuck’s goin’ on with you, don’t they? It’s that you won’t explain it to me. Not even when I’m down on bended knee, worried outta my skull, beggin’ ya to let me in.”

And then, because he couldn’t keep in even if he tried: “Why can’t you trust me anymore?”

Davey makes a noise in the back of his throat, low and wounded.

“Jack, I⁠— It’s not that simple⁠,” he says, his eyes wet and pleading, and the fact that even now, Jack can’t hardly stand to see him cry, is infuriating.

“Seems pretty fuckin’ simple from where I’m sittin’,” Jack says, forcibly hardening his heart. “If you don’t want me around anymore, then that’s⁠— that’s fine. You ain’t the first an’ you won’t be the last. But I thought you’d at least have the decency to say it to my fuckin’ face instead of draggin’ it out like this.”

He shoves himself to his feet, his arms and legs trembling faintly. “Message received, okay?” he says with a bitter scoff. “Loud an’ clear.”

“Jackie, wait!” Davey’s fingers clutch at his forearm, his hands clammy and frantic. “You don’t⁠— It’s not that I don’t want to tell you⁠—”

“Then tell me!” Jack shouts as he whirls back around. “For fuck’s sake, Dave, you’re acting like I broke your heart!”

And Davey looks absolutely gutted⁠—cracked open, exposed, and raw—and he staggers back a half step, dropping Jack’s arm like he’s been punched in the gut.

Jack stops dead in his tracks. The frustration that had been swirling inside him, the churning froth that threatened to capsize everything in its wake, flickers and dies like a candle being snuffed out. Icy cold seeps through every crack and crevice of him, down into his lungs and out through his veins, freezing him right to the bone.

Silence. Gaping and unfathomable. Then:

“I think you should go,” Davey whispers.

Jack’s throat clicks, the chamber jammed.

“…Dave,” he starts, hushed, hardly daring to breathe, suddenly and impossibly aware of just how brittle the space between them has become. “Davey, did I break your heart?” he asks.

Davey swallows so hard it looks painful, like he’d rather choke it all down than let another word escape. “Please go.”

“Are you in love with me?”

“Jack,” Davey says, his voice utterly shattered. “Stop it.”

But Jack can’t. He doesn’t know how.

#*editor's note #*the writing desk #*ask #bits & bobs #take a shot fic #like I said it’s Bad #and there’s still worse to come #but this fall out has been a long time coming #still very much a draft so I apologize for any errors

58 notes · View notes

blushing-ghost-stories · 10 months

Text

Bo Sinclair X Reader

Reader heads down to the garage to flirt with Bo, but a misunderstanding nearly ruins their relationship before it can even begin.

WC: 2819

Genre: Hurt/Comfort?

Content Warning: toxic behaviour, abuse, violence, self destructive thoughts, Bo calls the reader Bitch and Whore, Bo Sinclair should be a warning in himself.

If I've missed something that should be warned about above in this piece, please let me know.

SFW but MDNI

“Well, well, well, looks like the lyin’ whore is finally showing ‘her true colours.” Bo’s eyes were filled with a cold fury, you could see his jaw tensing up and a vein in his neck pulsing. He wasn’t angry with you, no, he was furious.

You weren’t too sure where things had gone so wrong. Your day had started normally enough, you had woken up to the sound of Lester stomping around getting ready for his day, and you had gotten up too. You had got ready for the day and then you headed down into the kitchen to make coffee for Lester before starting on breakfast for you and Bo. Your interactions with both of them that morning had been cordial enough, being a ‘guest’ in Ambrose for the last 3 months you had started building more trust with them, and murder aside you truly enjoyed being in the town, it was the change of pace that you had needed.

After Bo and Lester had left for the day you had cleaned up a bit before you decided to do something stupid brave. You had been dancing around your feelings for Bo for quite a while, when you had first met him he was charming and you couldn’t deny how attractive you had found him. Things had changed a bit after the truth of Ambrose had come to light, the friends you had been traveling with were dead, and you didn’t explore the town much, even with the freedoms you were given, too afraid to walk into a building and seeing them staring back at you. So for the first month you had pushed down your attraction to Bo, after all, he was rude, and had a hair-trigger temper that you were still working on understanding. But then as time went on you began seeing more sides of the Sinclairs, you had seen how sweet and caring they could be underneath, you had seen how they truly cared for one another, and you desperately wanted that too, you wanted to be loved and cared for, and you knew that despite everything that had happened, you were still attracted to Bo, and you thought he might be interested in you.

And so, after psyching yourself up you decided you were going to go down to the garage and chat with Bo a bit, and maybe if you felt stupid brave enough, you’d flirt with him a bit, see if his attraction to you was real or if it was all in your head.

And that was what had led you to this point here, Bo gazing at you with barely restrained fury, looking like he might cross the garage and attack you at any second.

“What?” You flinched backwards as he took a step towards you, barely finding your voice enough to squeak out a confused response. “I don’t understand”

“Don’t understand?” He crossed the shop faster than you had thought he was capable of, and in an instant he had your arm in a bruising grip, pulling you towards him as he got in your face, “What’s there to not understand darlin’? I was wonderin’ how long this lil act o’ yours was gonna go on for, and I guess now I know.”

“What act, I don’t - I don’t” You were finding it hard to find the words, it had been months since you had felt this amount of fear, you didn’t understand why he was so angry with you, coming down here had clearly been a mistake, now you just wanted to get away from him and get back to the house, back home, you could throw yourself into chores and avoid Bo for the rest of your life, yes, that seemed like a reasonable plan, you just needed him to let go of you, he just needed to let go.

“Ya don’t, ya don’t what?” He was yelling so close to your face you could feel spit hitting your face as he practically frothed at the mouth in anger.

When you didn’t immediately answer he shook you violently, nearly throwing you to the floor. That was when the dam broke, you started sobbing, unable to stop yourself, barely keeping yourself upright. You could only stand there, trembling and crying as he shook you, demanding an answer to a question you didn’t understand.

“I-I, I’m - I’m - I’m, s-” You couldn’t get the words out, barely being able to talk through the sobs wracking your body. You just wanted to get the words out, apologise for whatever you had done wrong and get out of here, but you just couldn’t.

In the back of your mind you could hear him mocking your sobbing stutter as you struggled to get the words out, he was getting angrier as time went on, you just needed to get the words out.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please,” you nearly collapsed, his bruising grip on your arm practically the only thing keeping you upright, “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, I promise, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

He finally let you go, and you nearly dropped to the ground, luckily you were close enough to the counter that you were able to brace yourself against it to keep yourself upright. You wanted to put more space between the two of you but were scared that if you moved he’d come after you again, so you just stood there, trying to get control of your breathing, staring at the ground, trying to focus on anything other than Bo.

“Yer damn straight you ain’t gonna try that fuckin’ shit again, ya got that.” He stepped back, giving you a bit of space, “Knew this little act of yours was too good to be true, comin' in here, thinking ya can flirt your way out of here. Well, I got news for ya, you're here for life, and that doesn’t have to be a long time darlin’ so think carefully on how ya wanna act.”

The pieces started to click into place, he had thought that you were only flirting with him to get out of Ambrose, but that wasn’t the case, maybe if you explained it to him, then he’d understand, and things would be okay.

“That’s not what I was trying to do,” you wiped your face, tears still streaming down, but not as badly as before, you were hopeful, you could make him understand and then it would be okay, “I don’t want to leave, I want to stay here, I just wanted to hang out with you, I like you.”

As it turned out, that had not been the correct thing to do, reasoning with Bo when he was this angry was near impossible, the smarter thing to do would have been to just shut up and accept what he had said, move on with the day and never bring it up again. But you had just had to try and fix things. The sudden stinging sensation across your face had your ears ringing and took your legs out from under you. You didn’t even realise that he had backhanded you until you were on the ground, hand on your cheek, looking up at him in confusion.

This was too much, you wanted to go home, he was even angrier now and you were truly scared for what was going to happen to you. And then the bell to the shop rang, and your saviour, Lester, arrived.

“Wha- what’s goin’ on in ‘ere?” He was at your side in an instant, helping you up, bringing you away from Bo, towards the door, towards freedom. He stopped short though, letting you go and turning back to Bo after he said something, “What was that?”

“I said that lying whore is trying to leave,” Lester looked back at you in shock, you tried to shake your head, to tell him that it wasn’t true, but shaking your head hurt and made you dizzy, and you were scared to speak again.

“Tha- that can’t be true, she likes it here,” he looked to you for confirmation, and you nodded as well as you could, “See Bo, whatever is going on it’s jus’ a lil misunderstanding, tha’s all, just a lil misunderstanding.”

“That bitch came in here, trying to flirt with me, thinkin' I’d let her go if she batted her lil eyelashes and looked cute.” Bo turned away, walking to the other side of the garage while Lester followed behind him, at a safe distance, trying to comfort his brother.

Lester turned back to you, a look of betrayal on his face, “You said you like it here, you said you was gonna stay with us,” the look on his face nearly broke your heart, it hurt so much to hear how little they actually trusted you, how quickly they’d turn on you, and that was enough to make you start crying again.

“I’m going home,” You barely managed to croak your declaration out through your renewed sobbing, “I’m going home.”

And with that you turned and ran, tears blurring your vision as you ran from the garage, toward safety, towards your home. You could hear Bo and Lester yelling after you, but they didn’t give chase. By the end of your race back to the house you were nearly out of breath, practically hyperventilating as you walked in through the door.

“You’re so stupid, why are you so stupid?” You were muttering to yourself, needing to voice the thoughts in your head, you were scared, but you were also angry, angry at yourself for being so stupid, “Why would you think anyone would ever care about you? You’re so useless, so fuckin pathetic.”

You broke down again, crying on the floor of the entryway. You were so caught up in your turmoil that you didn’t even notice Vincent sitting at the kitchen table, eating lunch silently. He didn’t know what was going on, but you looked like you needed someone.

He quietly walked over to you, Jonsey trailing silently behind him, curious as to the disturbance. You were startled and a bit embarrassed when Vincent crouched down next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You leaned into the comforting touch, Vincent always seemed to be there for you when you were at your worst, a silent yet comforting presence. You looked up to him, giving him a weak, watery smile, trying to reassure him that you were okay.

Not wanting to be left out Jonsey quickly muscled her way in, shoving herself between you and Vincent, silently demanding attention, attention that you were more than happy to give her, sinking your fingers into her coat, giving her the pats she was demanding was a soothing experience, plus it gave you something to focus on, anchored you helping you begin to calm down.

The three of you sat in silence for a while, until you finally risked breaking it, shattering the tranquil moment.

“Why am I so stupid?” You weren’t quite sure if you were asking yourself or Vincent the question this time, but it was the only thing you could think of to ask.

Vincent just tilted his head in response, giving it a little shake, it was clear that he was confused at your question.

“I’m so stupid,” and with that, the tears came again, “I-I thought that he could like me, but that’s so stupid, so so stupid, why would he like someone as pathetic as me?”

Vincent looked even more confused, and gestured for you to wait a moment, and he quickly left you, taking off into the house looking for something. He returned with a pad of paper, he communicated with his brothers through sign language, and while you were still trying to learn you were having difficulties and couldn’t understand him most of the time, so when the two of you talked he would write for you instead.

“I don’t understand, why are you saying those things? Who upset you?”

“I told Bo I like him, it was a stupid thing to do, why would someone as great as him want to be with someone like me?”

You turned away from Vincent, almost ashamed for having said it aloud, that you liked his brother, what if he reacted like Bo and Lester, what if this was the end of your stay in Ambrose? You could hear him scribbling away on the pad, hastily writing a response to you.

“My brother is stupid, he’d be lucky to have you.”

You took your time reading his response, it confused you, why was he saying that?

“But even Lester agreed, when I said I liked Bo, when I flirted with him, they both acted like I was trying to run away, but I don’t want to leave, I love Ambrose, I love you guys, I don’t want to have to leave.”

Vincent gently rubbed your shoulder in a comforting gesture again, before doing something that completely took you off guard, he wrapped both arms around you, drawing you into a hug. The first hug you’d had since arriving in Ambrose, and it nearly made you break down in tears again, your emotions were just so frayed.

After a moment longer he gently released you, patting you on the back as he picked his paper back up, beginning to pen another response.

“A lot of tourists, especially women, try to flirt with us, with all of us, to try and get us to let down our guard, to let them go. I don’t think that’s what you were trying to do, but Bo probably did, and I know he likes you, he must’ve felt betrayed, that you were trying to manipulate him. It doesn’t excuse his overreaction, but he’s got a bad temper, let him settle himself down, and then you can talk to him later.”

You nodded at Vincent, “Okay, I’ll try that.”

Both of you were startled at the sound of the door crashing open. Turning around you saw Bo, still looking pissed as hell standing in the doorway.

“Well, well, ain’t this cozy,” He took a few quick strides towards you, ready to grab you again, only to be blocked by Vincent standing in his path. “Well, looky here, flirtin’ with me didn’t work so you ran right off to my brother, smart choice, he’s the better one, he’s the good twin, I’m just the monster.”

Vincent began signing something, you couldn’t understand what he was saying to Bo, but you could see Bo’s face going through a multitude of emotions.

“Whatever, you don’t know shit,” Vincent signed something else to him, Bo just scoffed in response before turning to you, “And you, the fuck ‘re you doin' here? Thought you wanted to go home, that's what you were shouting before.”

“I am home.” You hadn’t expected your simple words to affect Bo, you had expected more anger and derision, for him to storm out leaving you with Vincent, instead, you saw his features soften, just a bit, but enough to be noticeable.

“Home, eh?” He smirked at you, walking around Vincent to kneel by you, bringing his hand up to cup your face, eyeing the bruise forming on your cheek, “That’s right, this is your home, and you’re not goin' anywhere right doll?”

Not trusting your voice you nodded, leaning into his touch, softly shutting your eyes. You had no idea how you were able to be so calm with him now after what happened not 30 minutes ago, but Bo had a knack for making you feel safe, though you were going to have to be more careful around his temper in the future.

“Did ya mean what you said then?” You looked up at him, confusion evident on your face, “You said you like me, is that true?”

You nodded, leaning into his touch even more, “I do, I like it here, I want to stay with you.” You looked over to Vincent and added, “With all of you.”

Bo shifted, sitting next to you on the floor, pulling you into him, into a somewhat awkward hug, but a hug nonetheless, and you felt yourself relaxing further into his embrace.

“‘M sorry, I know I got a bad temper,” He was speaking so softly, almost as though he didn’t want people to hear what he was saying, he sounded so soft, so vulnerable, it wasn’t something you thought you’d ever say about Bo, “I’ll work on it, promise.”

You knew it’d be a hard promise for him to keep, that temper of his was bad, but you’d never heard Bo apologise before or admit to any wrongdoing, normally just justifying his temper and reactions. But you wanted to trust him, to believe him when he said he’d work on it, you could help him, you could be happy with him, you were sure of it.

#slasher x reader #bo sinclair x reader #bo x reader #house of wax x reader #HOW x reader #house of wax #bo sinclair

204 notes · View notes

gloomysoup · 4 months

Note

I'm like frothing at the mouth for the secrets fic you're teasing us with omg

hehehe thank you i love this fic very much and i am desperate to share it with y'all, hand to god. i was going to go to bed bc i have to work in the morning, but just for you, here's another piece of the fic that i literally just wrote :)

“He should know the truth, Steve,” she said softly. “Don’t you think he has a right to know?”

“We weren’t a thing, Robin,” Steve insisted. “It was casual sex, and nothing more. He doesn’t want me like that. So no, I’m not going to ruin his life. And you aren’t going to tell him anything. Promise me you won't say anything.”

Robin hesitated. Steve could see it in her expression, hear it in the moment her mouth opened with no sounds coming out. And then she agreed, because what other choice did she have? It wasn't her secret to tell.

“Fine, but I'm not happy about it. I still think you should tell him.”

“You just don't understand it the way I do, Robs. He's living his dream. I won't be the one to take it away.”

#gloomysoup #soup's wip weekend #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #omegaverse steddie #stranger things fic #alpha eddie munson #omega steve harrington #steve stranger things #eddie stranger things #eddie x steve #rockstar!eddie munson

59 notes · View notes

textfromthelookout · 1 year

Note

if you have the time, I wanna know what makes vegeta so compelling to you, whole ass character arc stuff and what not. I wanna hear you go off on your short king.

Anon do you understand what you’ve unleashed? I don’t think you understand what you’ve unleashed. Or if you do understand, I can almost guarantee you aren’t prepared. This is almost 3000 words of me frothing at the mouth. I hope you know you asked for this. Like the reason I was so late answering was because I wanted to do it justice and could not figure out what I wanted to yell about first.

I guess to understand why Vegeta’s development is so fucking staggering to me, you have to understand who he starts as when you meet him.

Vegeta is around 4 or 5 when Freeza destroys Vegetasei. He’s roughly 30 when he comes to Earth for immortality. In between are two and a half decades of being taken from, which he suffers only because he believes wholeheartedly that he will grow strong enough to kill Freeza and take it all back from him. He lands on Earth with little to his name beyond his pride in who and what he is, and power that, while paltry compared to Freeza and the people in his inner circle, surpassed and still surpasses every member of his race.

Right?

One of the biggest things about Vegeta in Z is that there is A Way Things Are Supposed To Go and when they go any other way, he cannot let it go. Losing to anybody other than the people he has known for years can kill him is unacceptable. Even more so if it’s to another Saiyan. Even more so when this Saiyan is such a disgrace to the blood in his veins. The loss is an impossibility and has to be rectified. Vegeta limps off of Earth with two big driving forces now: kill Freeza for vengeance, kill Kakarot to mend his pride (or at least beat him so far into the ground that his superiority is unquestionable).

Namek is where Vegeta gets really interesting. He’s fresh off a stinging defeat that put a couple cracks into his sense of certainty and self. He knows a way to get what he wants (the Dragon Balls on Namek). He’s in a race against the powers that be for it. He has something of an ace in the hole in that he worked out how to sense ki while he was flying half dead through space, so he’s no longer forced to rely on a scouter—on Freeza’s technology. He intends to make a clean break, and for a while it goes according to plan. Zarbon’s a stumbling block, but he makes it work in his favor, takes all the Dragon Balls Freeza collected and escapes with his life to boot.

And then another repeating theme surrounding Vegeta in Z comes into play. He’ll be a hairsbreadth from getting everything he wants before it all comes crashing down around him, largely due to things entirely outside his control. He couldn’t have used the Dragon Balls even if he had decided to press Gohan on what he was doing in the middle of nowhere with a ‘watch’, because he doesn’t have a password. The Ginyu Force thrashes him, Goku shows up stronger than ever. It’s fine though, because now he knows how to get the Dragon Balls to work, so he’ll never suffer defeat again—it’s a moot point.

…Right?

I think that the point in the story where Vegeta well and truly starts to come unraveled as a person is pretty immediately after Porunga dies and Freeza starts cycling through his transformations. Because like, rudimentary or no, Vegeta’s ki-sensing ability still works. He’s suddenly faced with irrefutable proof, that he can feel in the entire essence of his being, that his power is nothing to Freeza. And he lies to himself, because he can’t accept that he’s outclassed by the magnitude he is. Because this isn’t The Way Things Are Supposed To Go. He’s supposed to avenge his people and embody the legend. He refuses to bend, and so, he breaks.

And it’s sad, y’know? The way he just… stops fighting. For his whole life, he sweats and bleeds and swallows his bruised pride for the sake of survival and hope and what does it get him? I think all the goddamn time about the anime’s interpretation of this, where Vegeta being broken for Piccolo/Gohan/Krillin to witness up close is a deliberate choice on Freeza’s part*. In fact, I may never stop thinking about it. It’s not enough that Vegeta loses his will to fight, he has to know that others know that he gave up, that he can’t do anything against this monster even if he hadn’t. It’s a stunningly cruel blow precisely because he’s so proud and strong.

The man who dies on Namek crying at the feet of both of his bitterest enemies, begging one of them to kill the other for the sake of their race—who in that final moment lets his helpless frustration, his grief, his pride in his people supersede his own personal pride as warrior and prince—is not the same man who fought Goku on Earth. That man is in pieces, and Vegeta will spend every moment for years afterward trying to put him back together with saltwater and desperation. We meme on how death means basically nothing in Dragon Ball, but I go nuts thinking about how, intentionally or not, Toriyama managed to twist that to work with Vegeta’s development.

Because now Vegeta has to reckon with his many abject failures for longer than the few minutes before sweet oblivion, you see. Now it all matters again. As long as he’s alive, he’s still being taken from.

(Bulma’s one of the few—if not the only—person to simply give him something without coercion, or prompting, or obligation. Certainly the first we see. She had every reason to tell him to fuck off, really. She didn’t have to offer him a place to stay.)

Vegeta has a transitive hierarchical logic on strength, which comes up again towards the end of Cell that I’ll touch on when we get there, but for now it will suffice to say that in order to keep moving forward, he has to readjust his purpose in life to focus solely on beating Goku. If he beats Goku, then he beats Freeza, since Goku beat Freeza. Step one, obviously, is attaining Super Saiyan. And he’s so fucking committed to that that he unwittingly locks himself out of it, up until he leaves partway through the three year gap before the androids.

I could write another entire essay on how Super Saiyan can be read as a trauma response and how it differs between all the Saiyans in Cell saga (and especially about Goku on Namek), but this is surely already more than you bargained for when you opened this can of worms, so, Vegeta. When I think of Vegeta’s awakening to Super Saiyan, I tend to default to the original dub’s take (ep129), because it has lived in my head rent free since I saw it and it will not give me peace.

Take this part of my rambling with a grain of salt, I know I’m about to get a little ‘it’s not that deep’ about it, but. Here’s my interpretation of this. Vegeta only attains Super Saiyan once he has done away with distractions—not entirely because now he can focus on nothing but his training, but because he’s inadvertently given himself space to even begin to process all the shit from the last 25 years of his life, even if he fights it every step of the way as weakness. All the self-hatred, yes, but also the aforementioned frustration, the grief, the anger. The helplessness. ‘I didn’t care if I lived. I didn’t care about anything.’

Ultimately the trigger to Super Saiyan is a single moment of all-consuming emotion, so whichever thread of canon you personally subscribe to, the facts are that something happened in Vegeta out there in the middle of nowhere space. And he returns to Earth riding high. I’m not gonna lie, he’s rocking some seriously manic energy when he shows up to waste Android 19, and honestly why wouldn’t he be? He’s latched onto this new power and he doesn’t have to feel anything else. Things are finally going right. He’s invincible. He’s the king again. This is The Way Things Are Supposed To Go.

…

…right?

Super Saiyan is supposed to be a solution for Vegeta, and instead it eventually turns itself into a problem during Cell and the androids. To be fair, he can’t misestimate the strength of an opponent he can’t sense in the first place, but even so, he’s so blinded by the euphoria of succeeding for once in his goddamn life that he can’t imagine that anything can be stronger than him. Androids 17 and 18 are a rude fucking awakening. They are the ultimate pulling-the-rug-out-from-under-you vibe check. All those pieces that he struggled so hard to put back together, kicked apart again without thought or effort. He has a bit of a crisis over it, understandably.

In the interest of brevity, I’m glossing over the intermediary parts between Vegeta coming out of the time chamber (wish we had more info on what transpired in there, personally) and the tail end of the Cell saga, because it’s something of a repeat of what he did with Freeza, except he’s using Goku’s ‘let Freeza power up to 100% to hammer home his superiority’ logic. I made a previous post on my main blog about the post-Cell part of Vegeta’s character arc, which I’ll copy down here with some minor revisions:

The hell of Vegeta swearing to never fight again is that he actually follows through, at least in the beginning.

There are seven years between Cell and Buu. In every version of the media I’ve gone through—English manga, uncut dub, uncut JP, Kai dub—Bulma says that Vegeta has trained the last five years before the tournament. Which can only mean that there was a two year gap right after the Cell Games where he didn’t train at all.

And like. Can you really blame him. His purpose in life has been cut out from under him not once but twice, first by Goku attaining Super Saiyan and avenging their people by killing Freeza, and then by Goku’s decision to stay dead and deny him the opportunity to surpass him. His strength has proven insufficient time and again no matter how hard he works, overshadowed by that of a boy half his age, who doesn’t even like to fight. His pride hinges on both of those things and even before that was mercilessly trampled on. He has no people. No planet. No purpose, power, or pride.

I really do think the only things keeping him going by this point are inertia and spite. Almost without doubt, this is the absolute nadir of Vegeta’s existence: at least, the nadir for the man he thinks he has to be, or can’t reconcile not being. If he has nothing, if the last things tethering him to his supposed innate nature (to borrow a line from this fic, shameless plug,) are torn away from him, what is left for him to do but accept defeat and submit to change?

What he doesn’t know yet is that that’s okay. He doesn’t know yet, but the seven years that Goku is no longer a presence in his life is perhaps the best thing Goku could have possibly given him. Without Goku physically there to be actionable on (for lack of a better phrase), new things can grow in the spaces where his animosity and aggression burned holes in him. Even if Vegeta is still nursing the embers of that blaze and ignoring the encroaching growth as hard as he can, he is still beginning to care about things that the old him wouldn’t. (coming back to Vegeta’s logic on strength: to Vegeta, Gohan’s victory over Cell is also Goku’s victory, and Trunks’ loss is his own loss. Bulma mentions to Gohan that he’s dead set on making Trunks stronger than him, and why would Vegeta care about that goal specifically unless Trunks’ victory over Gohan is also Vegeta’s victory over Goku?)

And then.

And then all of a sudden, Goku is back in the picture. And when he comes back, so does the Vegeta from before, like a relapse.

Because as much growing as does, he still has seven years to gnaw on the same question he has been for ages now. Why is Goku so much stronger than he is, being what he is? Why is he so inadequate? There is now a window, fleeting as it may be, for Vegeta to get some answers he had no reason to assume he’d ever get. There is now the terrible possibility that he can make things go The Way They Are Supposed To Go. And Goku’s willing to let him take that shot and get those answers, right up until the whole business surrounding Buu disrupts everything and then he isn’t anymore.

Because the thing is, they were scheduled to fight each other before anybody else. Vegeta was not supposed to see the gap between himself and Goku until he was experiencing it firsthand. Picture for a minute the timeline in which the tournament plays out normally. Goku and Vegeta fight, Goku wins, and then Vegeta’s only recourse is to demand answers from Goku—who would surely give them, to the best of his ability!—or to come to his own conclusions and act from there. Either he makes peace with affairs, uneasy as it may be, or he blows up immediately, and Goku is there to stop him before he gets too out of hand. Instead, what happens is that he’s given the opportunity to realize that he’s still inferior, he still doesn’t understand why, and most importantly, that there’s a third option open to him. At the cost of his will, there is a way.

Submitting to Babidi to force Goku’s hand and close the gap is the act of a man who knows that he is running out of time. Whatever pride Vegeta still has would not possibly have allowed this unless he was so desperate for closure that he couldn’t see another way. For ten years he’s been trying to rebuild a sandcastle below the high tide line, and it’s not that he’s too stupid to move farther up so he isn’t freshly shattered at every pass—it’s just that trying to power through in the face of futility is literally all that he knows to do. He has been coming apart stitch by stitch ever since he met Goku, his worldview and his preconceptions of destiny and self dissolving in slow motion under his feet. Goku will only be here for a day. This is the last chance he has, and he knows it. He knows he’s not going to see Goku in the afterlife, even before he asks Piccolo.

What the fuck else was he supposed to do?

The music in the background of this scene is ‘Trapped Between Past and Present’ and if that doesn’t sum up the backbone of Vegeta’s arc in Z, then there’s nothing that does.

The beauty of his sacrifice is that he still has the mark of evil on his forehead when he dies, even though he’s bucked Babidi’s mind control by that point. He chooses the present. He chooses to symbolically and very literally raze his old self to the ground for the sake of all that his new self cares for. That is why the impermanence of death in Dragon Ball works for him. That’s why I go insane over the Majin arc specifically. New growth roots in ashes, phoenixes and sapling trees both.

Super (and end of Z) is where you get to luxuriate in that growth and watch it pay off, and oh my god does it ever pay off. Without going deep into spoiler territory (formally begging all of you to read the manga here), the later arcs begin to address Vegeta reckoning with his personal sins against the Namekians, and those of his race, who destroyed countless worlds under Freeza. Vegeta and Beerus have a conversation in chapter 69 of Super where things I’ve described in this here essay are worded explicitly into the canon. I think of it to this day. I think of all of the things Vegeta does in Super and I think it’s incredible just how far he’s come.

Before creation comes destruction.

Alright that’s enough pretentious meta. Here’s Vegeta being very happy about a well-earned victory. Isn’t he so fuckin’ cute.

*ep85, or 41 if you prefer Kai

#vegeta #dbz #dragon ball z #dragonball z #wanna hear me talk about dragonball characters? WANNA HEAR ME TALK ABOUT EM SOME MORE?#drop an ask or smth bc boy have I got things to say about Things.#i swear to god i didn't send this ask to myself #basia and breezee if it was one of you you better fess up right now #long post #text from the mod

331 notes · View notes