Tumgik
#I had to physically restrain everything within me to not do it
melit0n · 5 months
Text
Rocky Horror Show has absolutely ruined me because I physically cannot read or say the word 'anticipation' without adding Frank-N-Furter's funky little pause and it has caused me so many issues
19 notes · View notes
notjustjavierpena · 7 months
Text
Wake
Tumblr media
A/N: Finally another part of my darksugardaddy!joel. This has been sitting in my WIPs for a while, and I’m so pleased with how it turned out. Be kind to me as I haven’t written in a while and I feel terrible about starving you all of content.
Summary: Joel comes home to fuck your lights out. 
Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, dub-con with non-con elements, painful and rough sex, p in v sex, choking, passing out, degradation, abusive behavior, creampie, dirty talk, no aftercare, sugar daddy, daddy kink
Word count: 2k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50908876
Wake
It’s a late afternoon when you come to a realization; you don’t love Joel Miller, and you don’t think you could ever love Joel Miller. He is everything that you’ve been taught to hate if you want to believe in fairytales. Your parents would disapprove of him so immediately that you’d be terrified of them cutting you off from them if they knew of his existence.
You’ve never had a man be this rough with you, and only occasionally stroking your hair in apology afterward, but you suppose that the copious amounts of money spent on you - clothes that feel like armor around regular men and expensive bottles of wine that might as well have been potions designed to make you insane - is enough to make up for any unpleasantries within what you don’t dare call a relationship. 
You don’t love him but you can’t hate him. Not in a way that any other person would. How else would you surround yourself with pretty things? You’re no good at anything else than being what he needs.
Whenever he has had a bad day, you know the roughness will increase. It always starts the same; with a slam of the mansion door and a hungry search for you through the obnoxiously large building. He calls for you and you don’t dare not to answer, and in the end, he finds you in the extravagant living room - one of many - with its gold-rimmed glass tables and Chesterfield couches. You’ve been reading a book, but you put it down the second he enters and don’t even bother asking to read to the next full stop. 
“There you are,” he almost heaves for breath with exhaustion from his anger. He isn’t angry at you - you know this - but still, you find yourself treading lightly when his voice is so cold that the living room seems to drop a few degrees in temperature and causing your nipples to harden at the sudden change.
Then, as part of your ritual, he gets a thick wad of bills from the inside pocket of his suit and places it on the nearest surface. A bank transfer won’t do in these situations. He needs something physical, something he can hold in his hand and flash before you, and you know that he wants you to fall to your knees and beg for the warmth and dirtiness of the printed bills against your clean skin.
You’re just about to when he interrupts you.
“There will be more when you wake,” he promises, voice almost too quiet and restrained. Like he is saving his strength. 
You notice his choice of words; when you wake.
Wake.
You gulp. You’ll have to take it in stride. You’ll have to play the part.
You rise from your seat and he watches you patiently. You say nothing as you lower yourself onto the glass table and then lie down on your back, knowing it can hold because Joel would never buy a surface that he couldn’t have you on. 
You’ve learned not to wear anything too difficult to get out of, so it takes little time for you to pull off your skirt. Though you struggle a bit with your underwear since they’re already damp, sticking to the outline of your cunt and the sight makes Joel smirk like the Devil. Curse him, you think, for knowing that you can barely function when he looms over you like a giant, like a dangerous predator that hasn’t tasted blood for weeks. 
When you manage to maneuver your panties down your thighs, he twitches with impatience and curls his whole fist around the cotton fabric. He yanks them down and watches them twist into themselves as he pulls them down over the length of your legs and off your feet. 
They catch on your heels for the tiniest second. He gracefully undoes the ankle straps of them and drops each one onto the floor after taking it off. The anticipation is killing you, toying with your ability to breathe properly and even moreso at the humiliation of only wearing your top now. 
“Pull it down,” he commands, gesturing to it. You start to yank at the bottom to pull it over your head but he growls, “Down. Not off, stupid bitch.”
Oh. 
You pull the neckline down to settle it underneath your breasts, feeling like something on display with the way that Joel takes you in. His cock strains against the front of his pants, his breath uneven, when he cups both of your tits in his hands and pushes them roughly together. His thumbs skim over your hardened nipples, causing you to moan and he responds by pinching them instead until the moan transforms into a whimper.
“I’m gonna fuck you until your pretty little lights go out,” he mutters, pinches, and then tugs a bit on your nipples until you move involuntarily, “Lie still. Don’t give me any shit.”
He takes a step back, his gaze pinning you down whilst he undoes his belt. You refrain from shivering in case he tells you off once more, but you’re so close to doing it when you hear the noise of his zipper. A gush of wetness seeps from you, possibly smearing the glass surface that you are lying on. 
“Please,” you say pathetically.
“Please what?” He asks as if he doesn’t care.
“Daddy,” you present your cunt for him by opening your legs and Joel instinctively looks at your quivering slit, “Please fuck me.”
Joel steps between your legs, using his knees to push them even further apart. He towers over you, cock standing impressively into the air after he has shoved his pants and underwear down his thighs. He tuts at the desperate look in your eyes, “I barely make it through the front door before you’re spreading your legs for me.”
You want to argue that he was the one who sought you out, but he might leave you with a throbbing cunt if you have the audacity to play smart with him, so instead you just nod with a breathless ‘yes’.
He places one knee on the coffee table, following up with scooping a hand underneath the small of your back to align your lower pelvises. His grip is so strong, his bare skin, the amount you are allowed to feel, burns against your own. Like King Midas, his touch enriches you, turns you into something as valuable as gold. 
His cock breaches your tight cunt moments after. He watches you intently as your eyes screw shut with the inevitable sting that it brings due to his generous girth. He seats himself to the hilt inside of you and reaches something you didn’t even know a man could get to when he presses his hand into the spot where it rests on your back. 
“Good girl,” he praises with a strained moan, “How do you feel?”
“Full,” you say shakily and teasingly clench around him. 
He takes in a sharp breath, and before you know it, his free hand has come down on your right breast in a harsh slap. He adds to it by palming your throat afterward, tightly gripping it when you try to squeeze around his length again after not having been given time to react to the consequence of doing it the first time. You smirk up at him and he nearly loses his mind. 
“God, you just want it bad, don’t you, little girl?” His hips draw back and he keeps you waiting for the briefest second before slamming them forward again. The force behind his thrusts is borderline painful, but the way his hand arches your back makes his cockhead pound your front wall. 
The moans you let out are barely there, high-pitched or silent with the way he knocks all wind out of you whilst simultaneously cutting off oxygenated blood to your brain.
He fucks you like an animal, all groans and grunts, sweat dripping from his brow because he is too hungry for dominance to undress. He loves being able to quickly flee the scene afterward and loves leaving you with no clothes on so you cannot follow him. 
But it’s not the amount of clothes that he wears compared to you that gets you close to the edge. It is the fact that nothing around you feels real except for him. Even you don’t feel real but rather closer to an inanimate object that only comes alive because of the dark eyes that penetrate your own. 
You’ve known this fact for a while. Despite the love not being there, you know that after this arrangement has started - you don’t know what else to call it - his mere looking at you is what makes you materialize. 
Your fingers come up to curl around his wrist. You cannot breathe and it fucking hurts, only dulled by the way that your cunt starts to flutter with how close he has gotten you to the edge. You hadn’t expected him to make you come. 
With wide eyes, you look up at him in an attempt to tell him what is going on. He holds your gaze, pleased with himself as he drives into you, “I know, little girl, don’t have to tell me, I can feel you.” 
You don’t have the guts to fight his harsh hand. You take it with tears forming in your eyes and the feeling of your pulse pounding in your neck where it’s fighting to get past his bruising grip. 
“Say it, say that you love me, that you’re nothing without me,” he commands, but when you try to speak it is nothing but a squeak. He has his hand so tightly around your windpipe that you cannot get a word past your lips, drooling and shaking underneath his lack of mercy as your tongue feels too big for your mouth. He grins maniacally down at you as your vision blurs around the edges, “Made you speechless, did I? You filthy whore.”
You have always been familiar with the term putting someone’s lights out, but you’ve never understood the true meaning until Joel came into your life. You come hard, unfolding beneath his touch, with tears on your cheeks - and then there’s nothing.
Like a child falling asleep in a car seat, you have been carried up the stairs and into your bedroom. You sit up in your comfy bed and try to piece together how you have gotten here, and when you realize, it is because of your underwear and skirt messily and hurriedly sitting around your ankles. 
You tug your bottom garments up again. There is something sticky between your legs, and you know, immediately. what it is when you start to shift your legs and are hit with soreness. Everything hurts, but nothing seems to be broken or damaged. 
You glance to your right and spot the stack of bills that Joel had flashed earlier. It is neatly placed on the edge of the table along with a glass of water and some aspirin. You’ll take them soon, need to feel the ache a little while longer.
Instead of doing what is most comfortable (like taking the damn pills), you reach for the money instead. A delusional person would argue that they still feel warm, the temperature somewhere between newly printed and body heat. You take a few of them in your hand, and then you press them against your skin. The fact that you find it soothing is pathetic.
The wonder and innocence of being carried upstairs as a kid doesn’t translate into adulthood, you think, and then you lay down to fall into a deep sleep.
.
.
.
FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️
677 notes · View notes
mo0nfairy · 1 year
Note
😍😍 OMG, I'm gonna be needing a part four to that Leon post stat.
(Love your writing it's amazing just like you are) ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🤎
part 1. part 2. part 3.
tw :: re4 spoilers, obsessive!leon, yandere!leon, violence, knives, tasers, guns, explosives, framing, murder, abuse of power, death of a character, physical restrainment, noncon touching, thoughts of suicide, being knocked unconscious, shit goes down basically.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
⸺ thank u, honeybaby !!!!! i've been vv busy these past few days, but this man has been HEAVY on my mind. i've also been listening to playing dangerous by our lord and savior lana del rey on repeat and it had my brain conjuring up some ideas... (also this part is long so buckle up friends)
you see, you've been praying everyday to earn back those damned memories that slipped from your mind 6 years ago. but in a attempt to do so, all you can feel is a gun against your head, an explosion against your body, and dust permeating your lungs. all before the classic cut to black welcomes you. no crying mouse-ley, no crying guard-dog. just empty darkness. through the abyss, however, you are now able to unveil memories that were buried deep within you. and whether the return of these past events is a good thing or not is up to you.
you remember a late august evening. the cool air and descending leaves would calm you, but your current circumstances prevent you from any serenity. an anonymous tip to the RPD claimed that you were in possession of illegal substances. and somehow, those said drugs had magically appeared into existence within your home. this leaves you here, being driven to the station by the officer of the month, marvin branagh. despite everything, you're grateful marvin was the one to arrest you. you happen to favor him and his basic understanding of boundaries, as opposed to a certain mutt you know far too well.
it's safe to say you've now got quite the reputation in the RPD with how much trouble you get into. and especially with how quickly the problems seem to fade away. you're being escorted through the station until another officer complains to marvin about some kids with fake ID's. he leaves you by yourself at an empty desk with one hand cuffed to the armrest. the desk right beside leon's. you look to the blonde beside you. his head is rested against his arms folded upon his desk, deep in slumber. his cheek is squished against the surface of his arm, pushing his lips out into a duck-like pout. your mugshot peeks out from beneath his sleeping form. you swear through his unintelligible murmuring, you hear a gentle whimper of your name. marvin had mentioned during the drive how he was up all night looking through your case (wouldn't be the first time), but you can't find it in yourself to feel bad for him. you don't trust him. even several years ago, something within you has always prevented you from trusting him.
you fiddle with a mr. raccoon toy as 20 minutes slowly tread by. completely overcome with boredom, you peak over leon's shoulder to see your case file beneath him. maybe you could find something useful inside, like the bastard responsible for all these false claims. using your free hand, you manage to slyly slip your case folder from under his weight. not without a quiet whine of "no, y/n/n... don't leave me..." good god, was he cuddling your mugshot? (it would be the closest he could get to you physically, after all). you ignore him entirely, thanking the heavens that this man is such a deep sleeper.
opening the file, you find standard information about your case. you read through the notes leon left behind, which causes nausea to then stir in your stomach. he jotted down his worries of your case closing and not being able to keep you in the station any longer; there was ideas of any potential loopholes in the system he could take advantage of and prove your innocence. beside his rambling, there was a long list of certain ways he can frame you for crimes to reel you back into his clutches. what in the actual fuck? and just when you thought this situation couldn't get worse, you find he used pictures of your friends at the shooting range, bullet holes piercing through their paper faces.
you read through the evidence in shock, until a sickeningly-sweet tone gasps your name and pulls you out of your trance. you look over the folder to see those familiar blue eyes peering into yours. leon lights up like a golden retriever with a bone when he wakes up and you're the first thing he sees, metaphorical tail wagging and all. to dream of you and to be the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes, it is pure heaven! only, instead of the early morning, love-drunk haze within his dreams, he is instead met with the heartbreaking look of horror on your face. his eyes trail down to see you holding his notes and his heart sinks to the pit of his stomach. no, no, no, it wasn't supposed to be like this! it was never supposed to be like this! you were supposed to fall in love with him! you are supposed to be with him forever!
you are supposed to love him! you have to!
and you thought you've seen the worst, you thought you reached the bottom of the iceberg. but you were so, so wrong. it had been 2 weeks since you learned the truth about leon. since then, you were able to find solace within an old friend, claire redfield. not only do you adore her, but the layer of protection she had given you when you complained about the clingy cop on your hip was just the cherry on top. without leon, these 14 days were the most peace you have felt in what feels like months. you didn't know how the man who acted like he needed your presence more than air felt about this sudden separation. and to be completely honest, you didn't really care.
now, with your arm hooked around claire's, you two walk home after a night out in raccoon city. you're repeating old inside jokes and clutching your chest in heaps of rib-straining laughter. everything is full of high-spirits until you notice a certain cop car sitting in the street. claire enters your estate first, guarding you protectively while you follow her footsteps. you find (you guessed it!) no other than leon kennedy rummaging through your belongings. and the look on leon's face when he sees you with someone else is nothing short of pure anguish, sheer betrayal. he is jealous — so much so that it practically suffocates the room. you've seen plenty of emotions expressed by leon and the consequences that followed, but you've never seen first-hand what jealousy may compel him to do. considering the pictures of your friends he used as target practice, you feel as though the outcome won't be any good.
claire breaks the silence, "you disgusting pig! i'm calling my brother down here and he's gonna kick your-" her roar of anger is cut off with a sharp groan.
leon stands, taser gun in hand, as the electrodes strike into claire's body. she then falls to the ground with a loud thump, her form convulsing from the electric shocks waving through her. rushing to her side, you attempt to help her. but, you then cave into yourself when leon walks over in three large strides. and you now realize he is absolutely terrifying when he is jealous. his voice drops to a low husk as he demands you tell him who the fuck this is, a major contrast to the bubbly-puppy you're grown familiar with. you are left flabbergasted and are unable to mutter even a syllable.
you aren't even granted a mere second to compose of yourself before leon pulls a knife, plunging it deep into claire's chest. a scream of pure terror erupts from your throat. you're painted red as he relentlessly stabs your best friend, curling yourself into a corner and hiding your face in your arms. through your tear-stained vision, you see the lifeless body of claire and leon standing above her, huffing with fury like some blood-thirsty creature. something in his gaze perceptibly softens when he sees you, so scared and feeble. and it shatters his heart. after all, leon would take every life on planet earth just to see your lips curl into a smile, even once more. but, nothing could have prepared you for the words that would then leave his mouth.
he turns his body cam on. "y/n l/n, you are under arrest for the murder of... whoever this was. you have the right to remain silent. anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." you stare at leon entirely flabbergasted, but you're too exhausted to fight against him.
he bends down to you, light whispers of "you're ok, it wasn't your fault" and "i've got you, sweet angel" doing little to comfort you. with his gentle hands against you, leon proceeds to cuff you with the same softness you would use to handle a baby bird. and you let him take you away, because you are too caught up in looking at your best friend who was laughing with you just minutes ago now dead on the ground. you cry to yourself in the backseat of the cop car the whole way to the station.
by the time you get there, you are entirely in a state of shock. tears of dread stream down your cheeks, but your face is nothing short of emotionless. you are so caught up in your head, you don't even notice the whispers of other officers there. they gossip about how considering your track record, it's no wonder you'd end up here for good. a sharp glare from the man guiding you through the department is enough for them to shut their mouths. you're then brought into an interrogation room, with cameras off and no other presence besides you and this mad-man at your beck and call.
cuffed to a chair once again, leon locks the door behind him. he then drops to his knees and ties his arms around your waist, burying his head into you. it takes several seconds for reality to hit you, but you soon realize he is crying. and if you weren't restrained currently, you would've pushed him off and made him suffer a fate far worse than what claire endured. now, the two of you are sobbing together, but for entirely different reasons. you, full of grief over someone you love being murdered just moments ago. leon, full of agony over how the gleam of emotion he was so infatuated with left your eyes. all because of him.
you muster enough strength to plead to the blonde, your voice coming out through hoarse, slurred sniffles. but much to your dismay, your cries fall on deaf ears. if only leon had more morality than he did love for you.
"i'm so sorry, y/n, i just needed to hold you. even for just one last time” he picks his head up to look at you, face breaking out in a pitiful smile. “and i can't lose you. not again.” he grabs hold of your hands from behind your back and begins caressing the digits of your fingers. and the contrast between his smile and the crazed look in his eyes has you shuddering in apprehension.
"you're stuck with me to the end."
your eyes then flutter open to see a blinding white light; you begin to hear the quiet chant of a monitor beside you. where the hell am i? despite your current confusion, all you can think about is how you grieved for your best friend in the grimy cells of the RPD, how everyone turned into undead creatures just a week later, and how leon protected you from anything as small as a paper cut. you remember how several zombies overpowered him and how you took advantage of the opportunity, running like hell away and out of raccoon city. you remember the burning of your lungs, the rain on your skin, the hope of getting far, far away from this nightmare. you also remember the fear you felt when umbrella snatched you into their possession, to where you would soon forget everything that happened. including leon kennedy.
you're in the present now, as you can tell by the sheepskin jacket around your form and the hospital bed you're laid upon. it takes you too long to realize that you're safe, out of the hellhole that is los iluminados. looking down, you find a gun sitting by your hip (leon made the declaration that if you were to never wake up again, he wouldn't hesitate to end it all right then and there). you shift your train of sight to see leon at your bedside with his head in his hands while his entire body trembles with trepidation. the sight of this lovesick maniac at your side causes you to spring forward with a harsh gasp. his heartbeat skyrockets at the sudden occurrence. you're alive, and leon can't stop the tears of relief that fall from his eyes.
"hi, pretty... i'm here, you're safe now..." the smile on his face is borderline terrifying. his hands cup your face, practically clinging onto you like a lifeline.
"i remember... i remember everything..." the statement is entirely said to yourself, your gaze distant and not entirely there.
his eyebrows scrunch upwards, gaze softening (if it can even soften more than it already has). leon then pulls your face to his and molds his lips against yours aggressively, desperately. it isn't soft, sweet, or romantic in any sense. it is inexperienced, but overflowing with raw passion, need, and obsession. he only stops when the two are you are breathless and gasping for air. a dreamy sigh escapes leon's lips once he parts from you, gazing into your eyes as if you were something holy (which you are, obvi, but i digress). leon is so horrifically, irrevocably, disgustingly in love with you. and you can feel everything in his all-too overwhelming kiss.
he then engulfs you and melts into your arms like a noodle in boiling water. his light-headed, lovesick laughter fans against your neck. leon somehow pulls you impossibly closer to him, almost as if he were trying to morph the two of you together. it is too much; he is all you can feel, smell, touch. but, without a sliver of strength in your body, you are entirely vulnerable to him and his captivation.
"ashley... she didn't make it..." there’s a certain tone in leon's voice you can’t explain, but you shudder beneath it, anyway. he tells the information softly, but his voice is full of too much exhilaration to be normal. with these newfound memories, that dread returns to your stomach at the thought of what leon is capable of. what leon may have done to ashley while you were out cold.
through the abyssal darkness, your wish has been granted. you have now retrieved all lost memories.
and now, you know why you never were able to trust leon kennedy.
Tumblr media
the end !! hehe, thanks for the fun ride babes.
HOWEVER……….. this is surely not the end of my resident evil stained brainrot. so i will not be continuing this series, but i will most certainly be pouring out everything in my RE-obsessed brain. only if u would like to see it, of course. if u do, pls send me some asks!! and thank u again !!!
Tumblr media
925 notes · View notes
godsfavdarling · 2 months
Text
14 yearning hearts
Tumblr media
pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!oc
summary: Spencer and Brittany have a talk about their sex life
list of chapters, also available on wattpad and Ao3, my masterlist
warnings: smut (no condom sex, fingering, oral - female receiving), a little bit of anxiety but it all ends well! so also a bit of fluff!
words: 4k (just smut pretty much, idk how that happened?)
Tumblr media
His head tilted back in sheer bliss as waves of pleasure washed over him.
His dick throbbed painfully hard with each slap against her pussy, sending shudders of pleasure through his entire body. Her eyes dilated, gasping now, barely able to restrain herself. She maintained a steady pace, allowing him to lay beneath her with his hands on her thighs, while she gripped his waist for support.
Brittany bounced on his dick, her senses heightened by the alcohol coursing through her veins. Euphoric bliss enveloped her, causing her to close her eyes tightly as tears of pleasure streamed down her face. Silent screams of ecstasy forced her jaw open, amplifying the intensity of the moment.
With a loud groan, Spencer's stomach tightened as he climaxed inside of her, triggering her own orgasm in response. They both spiraled into a blissful high of pure ecstasy, riding out the waves of pleasure together.
Brittany continued to move, prolonging their shared euphoria.
As she finally slowed down and leaned in to kiss him before quickly standing up and disappearing into the bathroom, Spencer felt a pang of longing wash over him.
He couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment. He longed to hold her close, to revel in the intimacy they had just shared. 
Yet, as he lay there alone, he couldn't shake off the nagging question that lingered in his mind—did Brittany not want him to hold her?
This wasn't the first time Spencer had noticed Brittany's reluctance to engage in post-coital cuddling. While he understood that everyone had their own preferences when it came to physical affection, he couldn't help but wonder if there was something more to it.
As he pondered over their dynamic, another thought crept into Spencer's mind—Brittany always seemed to take charge in their relationship. From initiating intimacy to making plans, she exuded confidence and assertiveness in everything she did. And while Spencer admired her independence, a part of him couldn't help but feel like he should be doing more.
Was he not attentive enough? Did Brittany feel like he wasn't pulling his weight in their relationship? 
These thoughts gnawed at Spencer, filling him with a sense of unease and self-doubt.
When Brittany returned to the room, Spencer couldn't help but notice the way she moved with purpose, her confidence shining through even in the dim light.
“Is everything okay?" Brittany asked, her brow furrowing with concern as she studied Spencer's troubled expression.
"Yeah," he replied, though his voice lacked its usual confidence, betraying the turmoil swirling within him.
"Spencer… come on. Talk to me. Did I do something wrong?" Brittany's eyes searched his face, searching for any hint of what might be bothering him.
"No, you're perfect," he assured her, though his words seemed to hang in the air with uncertainty.
Brittany draped her robe around her shoulders, her movements slow and deliberate as she settled beside him, her eyes never leaving his troubled gaze.
He sighed, knowing she wouldn't let it go. "I… I can't help but wonder… um… do you not want me to hold you…?"
Spencer's voice trailed off, his words heavy with unspoken uncertainty as he broached the delicate subject. He could feel Brittany's eyes on him, searching his face for any hint of what might be bothering him.
"What?" she asked softly, her brow furrowing with concern as she studied his troubled expression.
"After we're done," Spencer began, his voice tinged with hesitancy as he struggled to articulate his thoughts. "You always… very quickly get up, and I… wonder if affection afterwards is something you're not interested in or…"
Brittany's eyes widened in surprise at Spencer's question, her expression softening with understanding as she processed his words. She reached out, gently touching his arm in reassurance, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.
"Oh, Spencer," she said softly, her voice filled with warmth and affection. "It's not that… I’m sorry. It's just... sometimes I get caught up in my own head, you know?"
Spencer nodded, a flicker of relief crossing his features as he absorbed her words. "Yeah, I understand," he murmured, his tension easing slightly.
"I'm sorry. We can change that. Would you like it if we... cuddled afterwards?"
His heart skipped a beat at the offer, a warmth spreading through him at the thought of holding her close. "If you want that… I’d like to… hold you," he admitted, his voice tinged with vulnerability.
A soft smile graced Brittany's lips as she nodded, her eyes shimmering with affection. "You can. It's just… I'm not used to it, I suppose… I can't remember when was the last time I had sex with someone I truly cared about. And I'm not interested in strangers hugging me and holding me… But you can. I’d love that… I can hold you too."
"It's okay," Spencer reassured her, his heart swelling with gratitude for her honesty and vulnerability.
"I'm happy you told me," Brittany said softly as she settled beside him, her warmth enveloping him in a comforting embrace.
As they lay together in the quiet intimacy of the moment, Spencer's mind raced with thoughts and emotions, his heart heavy with unspoken words and desires.
He knew they needed to talk, to lay bare their hopes, fears, and desires, but the words remained lodged in his throat, elusive and unspoken.
"Spencer…" Brittany's gentle voice broke through his thoughts, drawing his attention to her, her eyes searching his with unwavering intensity. "Maybe we should talk… I suppose we never did that. Things just happened…"
The weight of her words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications, and Spencer felt a knot tighten in his stomach as he struggled to find the right words.
"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he met her gaze, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Well… we never discussed our preferences," Brittany explained, her voice soft and tentative as she broached the subject.
"Yeah… I guess we didn't," Spencer replied, his tone tinged with uncertainty as he considered her words.
"So… what do you like about our sex life?" Brittany asked, her eyes searching his with a mixture of curiosity and vulnerability.
"I like everything," Spencer replied, his voice filled with sincerity as he met her gaze, his heart swelling with affection for her.
"Okay… What do you not like?" Brittany probed gently, her voice soft and reassuring as she encouraged him to open up.
"Nothing," Spencer replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he met her gaze, his eyes shining with affection.
"Okay…" Brittany's expression softened with understanding as she sensed his discomfort, her heart aching with a desire to ease his worries and fears. "Do you like it when I go down on you?"
"Yeah," Spencer replied, his cheeks flushing slightly as he met her gaze, his heart racing with anticipation.
"Okay. Do you like going down on me?" Brittany asked, her voice soft and tentative as she broached the subject.
"Yes. Very much," Spencer replied, his voice filled with sincerity as he met her gaze, his heart swelling with affection for her.
"Do you like when I'm on top?" Brittany asked, her voice soft and vulnerable as she broached the subject.
"Yeah," Spencer replied, his voice tinged with desire as he met her gaze, his heart pounding in his chest with anticipation.
As Brittany began to think of more questions, Spencer sighed, closing his eyes for a moment as he struggled to find the right words. The intimacy of their conversation weighed heavily on him, stirring up a whirlwind of emotions and desires that he struggled to articulate.
"What? Please talk to me, Spencer," Brittany pleaded, her voice filled with concern and affection as she reached out to him, her touch gentle and reassuring.
"I like everything. I love it. I think you're incredible…" Spencer began, his voice filled with sincerity as he met her gaze, his eyes shining with affection and desire.
"But?" Brittany prompted gently, her heart aching with a desire to understand and comfort him.
"There's no 'but.' I'm just… oh God. This is embarrassing," Spencer admitted, his cheeks flushing slightly as he met her gaze, his heart pounding in his chest with anticipation and vulnerability.
"No, it's not. Please tell me. You can tell me anything. We can try and change anything you want," Brittany reassured him, her voice soft and gentle as she reached out to him, her touch filled with warmth and affection.
Spencer's voice trembled with vulnerability as he poured out his insecurities. "I… feel like I'm trying to do everything I can to make you happy. But... but it's hard for me sometimes. You're always so confident, so sure of yourself. And I... I've never been in a proper relationship before. I don't know what I'm doing half the time. What I'm trying to say, I suppose, is… I'm not as experienced as you, and it scares me… What if I'm not enough for you? What if I… can't give you what you need?"
His words hung heavy in the air as Spencer looked into Brittany's eyes, his heart laid bare before her. He could see the understanding and compassion in her gaze, but it did little to ease the gnawing doubt that consumed him. Brittany's heart sank at his words. She reached out, gently taking his hand in hers, offering him silent reassurance and support.
"Spencer…" her voice was soft, her touch gentle as she reached out to caress his cheek. "You are absolutely perfect! You are more than enough for me. I don't care about what you have done with others and how many times. Yeah… I may be more experienced in some ways, but that doesn't matter to me. I don’t care."
Spencer felt a lump form in his throat as he struggled to hold back the tears threatening to spill over. "But I want to be able to give you everything," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want to be the one who takes care of you, who makes you happy. But I… I don’t think I know how."
Brittany's eyes softened with compassion as she pulled him into a comforting embrace. "Spencer," she murmured against his chest, her words a soothing balm to his wounded soul. "You already do. You make me very happy! Please don’t think you are not enough for me. Don't ever think that,” Brittany reassured him, her voice soft and filled with sincerity as she gazed into his eyes.
“And as for being in charge... Well, we can change that. We can figure this out together. I don't mind you taking charge if that's something you’re worried about,” she offered, her tone gentle and reassuring.
“I like you being in charge. It’s just... I feel like I'm not doing anything,” Spencer admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
“Okay… listen… just because I take the lead sometimes doesn't mean you're not doing anything. Your presence, your enthusiasm, and your responsiveness—they are all very important. 
And you are perfect… I want us to explore together. I want to find what works best for both of us. What you desire and need is just as important as what I want. And I'm here. I'm here to listen and adapt. We can talk about anything, Spencer. Anything you want,” Brittany assured him, her words filled with love and understanding.
“Okay. Thanks,” Spencer replied, a sense of relief washing over him.
They shared a tender kiss, their lips meeting in a silent affirmation of their connection.
“What do you like?” Spencer asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.
“I like everything. I don't know,” Brittany admitted, her voice trailing off slightly as she pondered his question.
“What do you like the most? What turns you on?” Spencer inquired, his gaze intense as he searched her eyes for answers.
"I like hearing you. I like it when you fall apart because of me," 
As Brittany whispered, her voice laced with desire as she traced a finger along Spencer's jawline, a spark ignited between them, igniting a fiery passion. 
With a soft sigh, Spencer leaned into her touch, his own desire mirroring hers as he caressed her cheek, his fingertips tracing the curve of her lips.
Their lips met in a heated kiss. Spencer's hands found their way to Brittany's waist, pulling her closer as their bodies molded together. With each brush of their lips, the tension between them grew.
Their kisses deepened, becoming more urgent and desperate.
Breathless and flushed, they finally pulled apart, their chests rising and falling in unison as they struggled to catch their breath. Their eyes met, dark and filled with an unspoken longing that echoed between them.
"How about... another round?" she said, her lips curling into a mischievous smile as she caressed his cheek. Spencer's heart skipped a beat at her suggestion, a rush of craving flooding through him at the thought of losing himself in her once more.
Without hesitation, he leaned in to capture her lips in a fervent, passionate kiss. Their mouths melded together in a symphony of longing and need, their tongues dancing in a sensual rhythm that set their bodies ablaze.
As the intensity of their kiss deepened, Spencer felt Brittany's hands roaming over his body, igniting sparks of electricity wherever they touched. 
With a gentle yet firm push, he guided her, until she found herself lying on the bed on her back, Spencer hovering above her with a look of raw hunger in his eyes.
Their gazes locked, each silently urging the other to surrender to the intoxicating pull of their passion. With trembling hands, Spencer leaned down to claim Brittany's lips once more, his touch igniting a firestorm within her.
Brittany moaned softly against his lips, her body arching up to meet his as their kiss deepened. With a primal growl, Spencer pressed his body against hers.
As he trailed kisses down Brittany's jawline and neck, his lips left a trail of fire in their wake, leaving her skin with a searing heat. With each tender touch, Brittany's breath hitched in her throat, her pulse quickening.
Sensing her response, Spencer's hands moved to the tie of her robe, fingers deftly undoing the knot with practiced ease. The fabric fell away, revealing the smooth curves of her body bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window.
Brittany's heart raced with excitement as Spencer's gaze roamed over her exposed form, drinking in every inch of her with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. 
In that moment, she felt utterly vulnerable yet strangely empowered, as if every nerve ending in her body was alive with electricity.
He hummed as he dipped his mouth to her collarbone, savoring the sensation of her soft skin beneath his lips. With a gentle touch, he traced his tongue along her delicate curves.
As he caressed her left breast, he could feel her heartbeat quicken beneath his fingertips. With a soft grip, he teased her sensitive flesh, relishing in the way she arched her back in response. 
Moving slowly, he trailed warm kisses along her chest, pausing to pay homage to her hardened nipple with his tongue.
She responded with a melody of soft moans, her body arching towards him again in silent invitation. With a hum of satisfaction, he continued his ministrations, alternating between each breast as he lavished them with attention.
He played with her nipple, flicking his thumb back and forth, relishing the way she squirmed beneath his touch. With a hunger that seemed insatiable, he switched his attention to her other nipple, giving it the same treatment as he slipped his free arm under her back.
Feeling his arousal intensify with each passing moment, he focused on pleasuring her breasts, his cock growing harder and tighter with every second. He felt her delicate hand trailing down his shoulder blade.
A groan escaped his lips as he reluctantly pulled away from her breast, guiding his kisses down to the valley between them, slipping his tongue along her skin. 
He gently took hold of her wrists and pinned them above her head, a silent invitation for her to surrender to him completely. Their eyes met in a silent exchange of desire, the air thick with anticipation as they indulged in the pleasure of each other's touch.
He resumed his exploration, gently nipping at her stomach, leaving a small mark imprinted on her skin as he continued his sensual journey. With each inhale and exhale, his chest rose and fell in rhythm with hers, his hand trailing up her thigh, causing her skin to shudder.
She cursed under her breath. How desperately she wanted him to take her right there, right then. The neediness she felt embarrassed her, but she couldn't deny the raw hunger that consumed her.
With a soft hum, he gazed down at her, his eyes tracing the curves of her body before meeting her gaze once more. With cautiousness born of reverence, he dipped his head lower, his breath teasing her sensitive clit as she gasped in pleasure.
Using his hands to spread her legs wide, he positioned himself between them, preparing to take her to new heights of ecstasy. She threw her head back against the pillow, her back arching as her fingers twitched above her head.
Focusing his attention on flicking his tongue over her clit, he held her hips firmly, adjusting the angle to find the perfect spot to send her soaring. Each movement of his tongue sent waves of pleasure coursing through her, building her arousal to dizzying heights.
He devoured her with a hunger that bordered on primal, savoring her taste and scent as if she were the most exquisite delicacy. 
With each flick of his tongue, each teasing caress, he drove her closer to the edge of bliss. She found herself unable to contain her vocalizations, her moans and mewls escaping her lips in a symphony of pleasure.
As he shut his eyes tightly, shutting out the world around them, he focused solely on her, on the sensations coursing through her body. With deliberate care, he inserted his finger inside her, feeling her walls clamp around him in response. He began to thrust slowly, methodically, ensuring she was wet enough to take him fully.
Her hand flew to his head, her fingers tangling in his hair as she held on for dear life. She bit her lip in a futile attempt to stifle her moans, but they bubbled up from deep within her, escaping in a torrent of ecstasy. He drank up her essence eagerly, adding another finger inside her to increase her pleasure.
Despite her grinding hips and desperate pleas for release, he maintained his pace, intent on prolonging her pleasure for as long as possible. With each brush against her sweet spot, he felt her arousal building, her body trembling.
"Fuck, Spencer!" Her voice was a desperate plea, a mantra of desire as she felt her orgasm building, surging through her with an intensity that bordered on overwhelming. 
She tightened her grip on his hair, pulling him closer as she rode the wave of ecstasy crashing over her.
Her stomach twisted in knots as her orgasm peaked, her body convulsing with pleasure as she gave in to the overwhelming sensation. Her walls clenched around his fingers as she rode the waves of bliss.
Finally, she felt it—a release unlike any she had ever experienced. A wave of sensation rushed through her, covering his finger with her essence as she moaned his name, her voice filled with pleasure and satisfaction. Tremors racked her body as she trembled with the aftershocks of her climax, her senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of it all.
He rode her through her orgasm, her release pulsating around him as he moved with measured precision. Slowing his thrusts, he carefully withdrew his fingers, watching as her essence glistened on his skin. Without hesitation, he brought his fingers to his lips, tasting her essence.
Pulling himself up, he felt a slight tremor of anticipation as he positioned himself on top of her. 
His dick throbbed with need as he gazed down at her, his desire burning bright in his eyes. With her legs wrapped around his waist, he hovered over her, his tip teasing at the entrance of her warmth.
Stroking her with his tip, he savored the moment, relishing in the anticipation of what was to come. With a small groan, he clenched his jaw, his nails digging into the mattress beneath them as he fought to maintain control.
She held his face, her touch gentle yet firm as she guided him, allowing her to adjust to his size. Pulling out almost entirely, he kissed her softly before pushing back in, filling her completely.
"Is this okay?" he whispered, his voice filled with both desire and concern.
"Yes," she breathed, her response barely more than a whisper. "Keep going."
With that, he picked up the pace, his thrusts growing faster and more urgent as he felt her walls clamp around him once again. It was sheer bliss, the sensation of her warmth enveloping him as they moved together in perfect harmony. Their vocal sounds echoed throughout the apartment, a symphony of pleasure that filled the air around them.
Her legs wrapped around his hips, urging him closer, deeper. She craved the feeling of him filling her completely. With each thrust, she moaned his name, her arms wrapping around his neck to pull him into another intoxicating kiss. He met her passion with his own, their lips moving in sync as they lost themselves in the moment.
As he locked eyes with her, she felt a surge of desire wash over her. Everything else faded away, leaving only the two of them in a world of their own making. His thrusts grew harder, deeper, each one driving her closer to the edge. Her hips met his with eager anticipation, her body craving more of him with each passing moment.
He pulled away from the kiss, cupping her cheek to ensure she was looking at him. Slowing his thrusts, he wanted to savor every moment, to etch this memory into his mind forever. 
"Please, don't stop," she whispered, her voice filled with need.
"I won't. You're doing so well," he reassured her, his voice filled with admiration and desire.
She moaned, struggling to form words as his cock rammed up inside of her. Another deep thrust sent a guttural moan tumbling from her lips, her body overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through her.
Releasing her jawline, he focused all his attention on his thrusts, determined to bring her to the brink of ecstasy once again. 
Desperate for release, she tried to convey her impending orgasm to him, but her words were lost in a haze of pleasure. He continued, driving her closer and closer to the edge.
As the knot in her stomach tightened, she felt herself teetering on the brink of climax. With a final, powerful thrust, she shattered into a million pieces, her body convulsing around.
Feeling her walls clamp around him, he knew he couldn't hold back any longer. With one last powerful thrust, he released his seed deep inside of her, filling her with warmth and liquid heat. They stayed locked in that intimate embrace for a few precious moments, before he slowly withdrew from her.
As he pulled away, she felt a sense of emptiness wash over her, replaced by a lingering warmth and satisfaction. Pressing himself against her once more, he peppered her face with gentle kisses.
Spencer's face nestled into Brittany's neck, holding her close as if he never wanted to let her go. His breath mingled with hers, warm and comforting against her skin, as he pressed tender kisses along the curve of her neck.
As the intensity of their embrace eased, Spencer lifted himself up slightly, his eyes meeting Brittany's with a soft, affectionate gaze. Leaning in, he captured her lips in a gentle kiss, savoring the taste of her as he held her tightly against him.
With a tender touch, Spencer eased himself off of her, but he didn't stray far. Instead, he shifted to lie beside her, his arm still wrapped around her waist, pulling her close. His lips trailed a path of kisses along her body, leaving a trail of warmth and affection in their wake.
Brittany sighed contentedly, feeling cherished and loved in Spencer's embrace. She melted into his touch, her fingers tracing delicate patterns along his skin.
She couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by a rush of emotions. She let out a soft sigh, her fingers tangling in his hair as she whispered, "I like this. This is nice."
Spencer paused, his gaze meeting hers with a mixture of tenderness and adoration. He brushed a strand of hair away from her face.
Tears welled up in Brittany's eyes as she gazed at him, her heart overflowing with love and gratitude. 
With a gentle touch, Spencer wiped away her tears, his expression filled with warmth and affection. He held her close, his arms wrapped around her protectively.
Tumblr media
55 notes · View notes
pianokantzart · 7 months
Text
I saw this post by @elitadream for her Body Swap AU. I then blacked out, and when I came to I had written a one-shot. Enjoy! As usual, be mindful of the tagged trigger warnings.
––––––––
"Don't look so gloomy, you should revel in the fact that you held such power! You were the sole pillar that held The Mushroom Kingdom aloft!” Kamek reached out a hand and patted the great chained beast on the snout like it was the head of a small child. Mario winced and tried to turn his face away, but the enchanted shackles held him firmly in place. In his helplessness, he locked eyes with the malicious magikoopa, and blew a puff of smoke in a silent threat.
Having been imprisoned for so long, Mario passed the time learning to wield and control Bowser’s fire breath in hopes that, at some point, it would be of use. The way the heat built up in his lungs didn't feel too different from how firebrand once burned within his heart and weaved around the bones of his hands. In the dingy silence of his cell, he spat large jets of blinding orange flames, breathed tiny flicks of red embers, and puffed dark billows of grey smoke in a quiet contemplation of what all he was capable of. While his body was restrained in such a way that he couldn’t aim the weapon, the fact he could use it at all proved to be a very helpful form of self-defense against the soldiers who delivered his rations of food and water.
Once the guards had overcome the initial strangeness of Mario inhabiting their King’s body, they grew cruel, taking every opportunity to taunt the fallen hero. Physically damaging him was off-limits, but everything else was permitted, and when the usual insults escalated to spitting and throwing food, Mario finally lost his temper, releasing a billow of fire and a fearsome roar that cleared the room in seconds. From then on, whenever a koopa entered his cell, he would growl lowly and breathe smoke. This effectively deterred any further abuse…
… unless, of course, it was Kamek. Kamek was not only accustomed to Bowser’s fearful form, but he knew he was Mario’s sole hope of returning to his own body. Whatever threat was directed at him was nothing more than an amusement. “On the other hand," he continued, "you are the greatest crack in their defenses. Never before have we made so much progress in conquering a kingdom in such a short amount of time, and you’re entirely to thank for it!” “Leave me alone.” Mario had intended to sound menacing then, but despite his new voice there was no denying the fear and sorrow that muddled every word. Kamek smiled. “Oh? But don’t you want to hear about this progress we made? That the castle is falling? That Princess Peach has disappeared?” Mario’s eyes widened. The chains holding him back clattered as his massive body jolted. Fear built within him, stoking the literal flames in his chest until it glowed with heat.
Kamek appeared satisfied with this reaction. “Yes! Disappeared entirely! We expected such behavior from your brother… hiding himself like a proper coward… but we are having a good deal of trouble figuring out where The Princess has gone to!”
Mario suddenly became aware of a strange pain spreading through his body. He had, by now, become accustomed to the burning aches that accompanied being chained up for so long, but this pain was different: more direct and intentional, like a thousand little blades tearing at the sinews beneath the skin. He now saw that the wand in Kamek’s hand was glowing, the smile on his bespectacled face wider and more malicious. “Now, your body is still the property of Lord Bowser, and as such is not allowed to come to any harm.” He hummed, “Thankfully, I know a few spells capable of causing a great amount of pain without damaging the vessel.”
Mario tensed. The agony spreading throughout his body worsened, and he huffed a small burst of flame from between gritted teeth.
“So, I’ll ask this only once:” Kamek hissed, “Where do you suppose the princess has gone?”
Mario answered with a cold glare, then squeezed his eyes shut in anticipation. Kamek, having expected this, obliged by intensifying the spell. There was the initial surge, white-hot and agonizing, forcing a restrained cry, when the pain suddenly– and unexpectedly– ceased. Even stranger, Mario felt his restraints fall away, and nearly collapsed in their absence, his limbs slowly shifting in the relief of newfound freedom.
Kamek released a guttural gasp. Mario opened his eyes just in time to see his tormentor struggling against tendrils of bright pink magic that wreathed around him like serpents, until the magikoopa slumped quietly to the floor in an unconscious heap. Behind him stood the familiar figure of Princess Peach, her hands ablaze with magic that sparkled like starlight.
Seeing her in the doorway, disheveled but unharmed, scowling at the fallen foe before her, Mario was suddenly overwhelmed by fear and shame. He’d had dreams like this during his captivity, and believing them for even a second proved immeasurably painful when he awoke to find himself restrained and alone. But even if this wasn’t an illusion, everything he was at this moment was an affront to her: a strange combination of monstrousness and uselessness. His alien form complemented his own newfound insignificance, every ounce of goodwill he’d earned over the years now actively destroying all they had struggled to protect. His body fought to make itself smaller as he stumbled back, only to be immediately stopped by the far wall of his tiny cell.
“S-Sono costernato…” he began, loathing the sound of his own voice. But Peach had already crossed the room, desperate to hold him the moment she recognized his eyes. Mario felt the soft fabric of her gloves wrapped around his face, her hair tickling his snout as she pressed her forehead against him. It was difficult not to hold her in return, but Mario restrained himself. He feared underestimating his own strength and unintentionally hurting her more than he already had, so he simply stood there, basking in the sensation and taking in the undeniable reality of it all.
120 notes · View notes
rileythelonelyalien · 2 years
Text
Dottore x GN! Reader (Baking)
A/N: This is a fluff Dottore fic , in this fic the reader is making cookies for the harbingers for their next meeting but some clones come to help you out !
Lol i hope you enjoy the fic , it might be a bit longer than my usual fics but not by too much ! This fic may be a little rushed so i apologise if the plot seems to go by a little bit too quickly at the end.
You had recently heard from your lover that the harbingers will be holding yet another meeting, you knew that their meeting lasted for quite a few hours and it certainly wouldn't be any good for any of their stomachs to be low on food for such a long time , especially your lover he tended to get hangry when running on an empty stomach. Thus you had decided to take matters into your own hands , you were going to bake some goods which you'll take to the meeting room beforehand so that all of the harbingers would be able to help themselves to whatever they fancied.
As you got to the kitchen you got out the white and blue striped apron, of which was gifted to you by Dottore, out of a cupboard where it was neatly folded waiting to be used. You smile as you put the apron on, tying it around your waist. You start out by retrieving all of the ingredients you’d know you'd need by memory. Wandering from cupboard to cupboard you set each ingredient down on your workspace: flour , self raising flour , vanilla extract , soda bicarbonate , eggs, milk, and many more. As you set down the last of the ingredients you notice in your peripherals that two figures had stopped in the doorway of the kitchen, slowly you lift your gaze to determine just who it was standing there. Yet you are met with two familiar faces , you could feel a smile pull at your lips as you face them. It was some of your lovers' clones , specifically omega and number 6 , although you don't call the clone by their number you felt like it was too cold. He was still the same Dottore, just younger , thus you just called him Dottore when not around prime. You raise your hand and give them a wave before you greet them ‘Hello you two , what brings you to the kitchen?’. The two of them look at each other before the omega Dottore responds  ‘well we have finished our duties so the both of us decided to wander around , we were not expecting to find you here however, although I must say it was a pleasant surprise~’ With the last comment the Omega Dottore's lips curl up into a wry smile. You wave your hand at this statement ‘alright , alright , well if you two have definitely finished your work and have nothing to do why not help me out with this?’ you bring their attention to the ingredients neatly laid out on your work surface. Both the clones' expressions immediately lit up as soon as they heard that they could help you out , they got to spend time with you without the interference of prime? You can count them in! 
As the two Dottore’s were putting on their aprons as instructed by you , you had brought out a large notebook that served as a cookbook filled with recipes you have collected. Before you begun flicking through the pages you made sure to have a quick look at the clones to make sure they were not goofing about too much , you had to restrain your laughter when you realised that the younger of the two had put on the apron which in bold lettering said ‘KISS THE COOK’. Before they could catch you , your gaze quickly reverts back to the recipe book. You delicately hold each page looking carefully at what you had written down , searching for the first food that you wanted to cook : cookies! Absent-mindedly as you turn the pages you hum to yourself to fill the silence within the kitchen. Whilst you hummed to yourself you failed to see just how the Dottore's react to this , although one of the clone masks covered his eyes both of their expressions immediately softened at the sound of your voice, physically melting at how much they admired you and everything you do. Although the younger one was still a new clone relatively speaking , he hadn't even heard you like this he couldn't help but inch closer to you now standing by your side revelling in the sounds that escaped your lips. The older clone did not seem to take too kindly to this however he made his way to your other side just so that he could have an excuse to be so close to you once again.
‘Ah!’ You exclaim, startling the two beside you as you set your finger on the recipe you were looking for, you turn to where you last saw the clones to see that they were no longer there. It did not take long to realise that both were at either side of you. A smile creeps onto your face ‘My, my, excited to cook, are we?’ you let out a chuckle. Leaving both of the clones' faces to flush a shade brighter. You set up the scales and all the other equipment needed in order to make these cookies. You had tasked the older clone to weigh out each ingredient according to the recipe and the younger clone to collect any other ingredients that you may have missed out when retrieving them earlier. Each Dottore took their job quite seriously , perhaps even a bit too seriously, as you turn back to the older Dottore you see him carefully weighing out the flour to be the exact amount down to the micro gram ‘ Ah! Dot , you do not need to be that precise my sweet , it's only baking you're allowed to go a few grams above or below nothing bad will come from it I promise! It's not necessary to be so accurate like in the science you do’ You send him a soft smile. However he is so focused his only reply is a small huff , this was a mistake on his part as the flour came right back at him with the huff and coated his face and mask. He stops what he's doing before going to let out a deep sigh but he catches himself before doing so as to not receive another gust of flour his way. You couldn't help but laugh at this adorable scenario , he brings his face to look up removing his mask letting his deep red eyes fall upon your laughing face , his eyes soften at the sight as he could feel the heat rise up to his face causing him to blush. Abruptly he clears his throat as he attempts to change the focus of the situation ‘Right my darling , well I have weighed out the flour ,milk , butter , and sugar for you so what shall we do next?’ The smile doesn't leave your face as you place a kiss on his cheek ‘Thank you ! Right now we can start with making some great cookies’ As you turn toward the work surface again the older Dottore brings his hand up to the cheek that you had kissed , almost dazed at your sudden affection , he continued to watch you with a loving gaze as you continued on with the recipe.
You talk through the steps as you proceed , mostly just for yourself so that you do not forget at what stage of the recipe you were at but also just for the clones just in case they were making a mental note of it , just in case they wanted to bake without you around. Just before the dough has been fully mixed into a cookie dough consistency , you take the whisk out of the bowl and wipe some of the batter off onto your finger and then proceed to put it in your mouth ‘mmm! this batter tastes good, these cookies are going to be great for sure!’ you state to yourself. This seemingly innocent act from you seemed to get a rise out of the two clones who were watching you intently on either side of you , seeing you stick your finger into your mouth made them think of … less than pure thoughts. However they are very quickly brought out of their own filthy minds when you ask them if they wanted to taste the batter too.
Each of the clones oblige as they too try some of the batter both enjoying the rich flavours of the cookies. After sampling the cookie batter , you continue to mix so that the batter will be able to reach the correct consistency. Although the more you mix the more difficult it gets to move the whisk through the dough, your arms begin to feel tired the further you mix. Soon you feel a pair of warm hands wrap around yours as you feel the younger clone's body slightly press up against your back as he guides your arms when stirring the dough. ‘I hope you don't mind my dove , you just seemed like you needed the help , I don't like to see you struggle in such a way’ Dottore gently speaks into your ear as he continues to gently hold his hands over yours. You couldn't help but feel the heat rise to your face as the intimacy of this moment finally settles in. Yet unfortunately as soon as it began, the moment was over as the batter reached the correct consistency. You curtly thank Dottore for being so helpful and he proceeds to point at his cheek , you stare at him before realising what he was asking for. You smile at how coy the younger Dottore was being before reaching up and kissing his cheek , leaving him to smile and giggle to himself in delight.
After all the shenanigans of cooking and preparing the cookies , there they were laying on a plate arranged by you with a handwritten note in the middle by you to all the harbingers , you hoped that they would enjoy the cookies that you and the Dottore’s had baked for them. The only thing left to do was to set them down on the table in the harbingers meeting room before they arrive , hopefully no mishaps will occur along the way.
654 notes · View notes
canmom · 4 months
Text
last season's anime: that elf show (1-6)
Belatedly watching Sousou no Frieren, the darling of the... previous anime season four months ago. So old news as far as most are concerned!
I have held off on watching this one because, well, videogamey elves-and-dwarves European fantasy is ehhhhhh! I can get into it if it's really well done and puts the focus somewhere interesting (c.f. Dungeon Meshi), or if its medievalism is a bit more historically grounded than your average videogame-inflected fantasy anime (actual European history is full of fascinating/fucked up shit which rarely makes it into fantasy). But Frieren didn't strike me as having that vibe.
Nevertheless I heard Madhouse were the ones that did it and somehow that was enough to finally tip me over into watching it. So lol. I was a baby or even an ovum when Madhouse were doing most of their best known work, and yet...
Anyway, it turns out, not only was it a Madhouse project, but none other than Yoshiaki Kawajiri actually boarded a good few of the episodes, although he's not the enshutsu [episode director/storyboarder] whose people are most excited about. The series director's last work was Bocchi the Rock after all! And this sure is another hit.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The first two things that jumped out at me in the first episodes were: the bgs are insanely good looking and the photography department is absolutely in love with a digital bokeh filter. I don't think I often see this specific kind of blur filter in anime (though I think you'll see it the works of some directors who like to emulate realistic photography like Yamada or Shinkai), and it was interesting the effect it had of eliding the lines and creating an effect kind of similar to posterisation.
Bokeh aside, the background painting and layouts in this anime are really incredibly good. When I occasionally watch fantasy anime - I have a friend who is quite into isekai and will occasionally show me one of her faves such as Ascendance of a Bookworm - one thing that often bothers me is the architecture, you have identical box-shaped houses with big windows, wide flat streets, it generally doesn't feel like a lived-in city. This is something that particularly bothers me about Attack on Titan.
By contrast, Frieren is routinely dropping scenes like this:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Split levels, varied colours and heights, accurate depiction of features like jettying, mixing up the verticals a bit. It's an impressive attention to detail and it does so much to sell the setting.
And the nature scenes are outstanding as well. Although I'm pretty sure they're painted digitally, it has the feeling of older physical media. The bg painters clearly understand the power of hinting at form with brush stroke shapes and a few flat colours - a technique similar to the bg paintings at Ghibli. There's rarely an obvious digital texture and they exercise restraint in overwhelming everything with glows and flares. The flat colours and paint-like textures are allowed to shine on their own. Plus everything has a subtle grain (pretty sure it's just good old Perlin noise), adding to the analogue feel.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
But yeah, look at the subtle atmospheric perspective in the last one there! The layers of forest in the background are painted with less saturated colours, creating a powerful sense of layering and distance, without having to draw more trees than the immediate foreground. I could learn a lot from this painting alone when it comes to forest scenes.
While I'm going on about technical stuff, the animation also stands up. The first episode in particular has some real flexes with crowd scenes containing dozens of moving characters. The character animation is generally very restrained, but naturalistic. There is constantly a strong sense of space. The action animation later does less for me - it's not at all bad, but it's within the conventions of modern shounen adaptations - but it's generally speaking strong.
All that said, what about what it's actually, y'know, about?
Frieren wastes little time in establishing its premise. The title character is a nigh-immortal elf, who was part of the RPG party that defeated the demon lord just prior to the outset of the show. Frieren has a pretty flat affect in general - not to say she's emotionless, far from it, but rather the heavy lifting of what she's feeling has to be conveyed through cinematography and implication of her actions. Though that said, it does plenty to humanise (elfise?) her too - she is not a morning person, and there are moments where she will get visibly excited about small things. Mostly, Frieren is a character who really doesn't understand herself very well.
Tumblr media
Comparisons to the prototypical emotionaless girl Rei Ayanami come to mind to me - especially the version of Rei we encounter in Eva 3.0+1.0. Both characters' affect is shaped by transience - for Rei, she's a short-lived clone, for Frieren, her perception of time is completely miscalibrated to all the people around her so she'll accidentally disappear for decades while they get old and die. And both characters' arcs involve learning about how to understand human connections.
As kvin has said in his impressively detailed article on the background to this show, this premise is used to tell a story about the passage of time. In the specific, it's about the grief of realising you did not spend enough time with someone after they've gone. Frieren is retracing the steps of the party after disappearing from their lives for nigh on 50 years, returning just in time to catch the human characters as they die of old age. The episodes are usually constructed around her memory of that adventure, paralelled by the connection she's forming in the present with her new apprentice. She's trying to do things that she never managed to do when they were alive, get in touch with her own feelings, etc. etc. Lots of mono no aware in the air.
Tumblr media
So each episode tends to develop two stories in parallel. There will be the immediate impetus - Frieren and co. find something that needs dealing with and coincidentally links back in to the past - and also flashbacks which help flesh out the rest of Frieren's party and why the journey was such a big deal to her. The writing and editing generally does a very good job of knowing what to leave unstated, what can be implied by a cut and a closeup.
More than anything I think I'm reminded of Seirei no Moribito. Frieren herself reminds me a little of Balsa - they're quite different characters, but the way they relate to others and the general arc of being changed by their connections - and while the dynamic between her and Fern is a little less parental than Balsa and Chagum, the use of scenery and the general approach to setting up of episode plots feels quite similar.
Predictably, stories about grief touch a nerve! 'I didn't properly appreciate the time I had with her' is something I feel particularly with my friend Fall, who we lost nearly two years ago now. A story about figuring out just what someone meant to you after they are gone is resonant, shall we say.
The first and second episodes as a pair end up particularly affecting. I talked about the technical stuff above, but the editing is also really strong. A couple of moments that stood out to me: moment of ephiphany communicated with a sudden eye closeup, an L-cut to bells which you don't hear until there's been another cut to the actual funeral. Since I've been in the sakugabooru server I've been learning to pay a lot more attention to individual enshutsu, so the names to credit in this case are Saito himself for the first, and Tomoya Kitagawa for the second.
The third episode (Daiki Harashina) stumbles a bit in my view, not so much because of the direction but because the script brings in some less-interesting magic mechanics and fighting-a-demon elements. The fourth episode, the first directed by Kawajiri, falls back into the rhythm: the stakes are small but we feel the development of Frieren and Fern's dynamic.
The fifth (Kenichi Shimizu) and sixth (Toru Iwasawa) episodes are a two part story, introducing a new character Stark as a second young apprentice character - the sixth episode has a really exceptional action scene with its dragon fight, bringing in a lot of familiar action animator names, and moreover the preceding episode does the work to set it up so we're invested in the culmination of the character arc it represents! Also there's that one sitting down cut I heard about. I wasn't sure I'd be on board with Stark at first, but he's growing on me through his interactions.
By this point we're starting to have more present-day 'villagers have a monster problem' type setups, but they're still primarily instruments to advance characterisation: the conflict of Stark with cowardice and responsibility is paralelled by one of Frieren's former party members, Frieren and Fern get to face ghosts of people they've lost, etc.
The first few episodes jump forward in years at a time in between, and even within the episodes tend to elide huge periods of time with montages - very effective for driving the central theme of tiiiiime. That seems to be slowing down a little now, although we'll see.
Tumblr media
I think if anything weakens it, it's that the demons and monsters feel undercooked as setting elements - and I'm a little worried by hearing that they become increasingly central elements as the show goes on. Of course, they're kinda mandated by the RPG setting, and being able to just say 'back when demons attacked the village' lets the show put its time into characterisation. But to take episode 3 for example - surely there is drama to be had in the idea of a senior underling who was frozen for nigh eighty years, unaware that his master had been overthrown? But nah, he just attacks immediately, and then it turns out that human magic science has advanced so much building out from his technique that he's not a big deal anymore (ratfic ass concept). Mostly demons and monsters exist as plot devices, opportunities for characters to prove themselves or experience an epiphany.
It's a shame because the show goes to such enormous lengths to flesh out everyone else's motivations. 'Why did character x do or feel y' is kind of the thrust of every episode (c.f. that kinda questionable stuff people say about JP storytelling being more about causality than conflict). Next time they supply us a demon character, I hope they're willing to give them a comparable treatment. 'Kind, peace-loving villagers vs ontologically evil baddies' is just such a boring dynamic, and with such love poured into everything else, it seems a shame.
Overall, I don't think Frieren is going to displace Tengoku Daimakyou as my fave of 2023, or stand alongside Dungeon Meshi as elves-and-dwarves fantasy goes, but it's definitely a memorable one. As an adaptation it's absurdly strong. Looking forward to watching the rest.
22 notes · View notes
resinfish · 1 year
Text
🚨ALERT🚨
I need help gathering information on a recent crime against my trans friend and his trans fiancé in Louisville, KY.
A friend of mine just had more or less everything in his and his partner's house stolen by his shitty landlord, likely in retaliation for pushing back on said landlord refusing to fix the house they were renting from him, specifically black mold they found in the walls and window latches that don't work.
The landlord obtained a false paper saying they had abandoned the property, and last week (5/18) my friend and his partner came home from work to find landlord Barrett Goff of Allodium Real Estate using a moving company to haul away everything in the house, supervised by officers from the sheriff's department. The officers physically restrained them from entering the property and recovering their things. Their cats were deliberately flushed out of the house, resulting in one being killed in the road. Their mail was stolen and destroyed.
The police, the sheriff's office, the landlord, and the moving company have resisted giving them the information needed to trace and recover what was stolen, falsely claiming that they couldn't do so because my friends were filing charges and "it would destroy their case." (It won't.) Local Goodwills and pawn shops have been apprised of the situation and asked to watch for key items, but we're basically stabbing in the dark. We need details if they're to get even half what was taken back.
The value of their combined belongings well exceeds the $6,000 threshold required for a charge of grand theft, and so they are taking him to court. But this doesn't bring back their valuables, or their cat.
After asking around, they've found that this landlord has a pattern of doing this to low income tenants, and the ease with which this fake statement was obtained and the speed and manner in which it was acted on suggest a pattern within the sheriff's department as well.
The Louisville, KY law enforcement apparatus has a long and storied history of crime and corruption, from the police murder of Breonna Taylor and beyond. It is disappointing but not surprising to find yet another instance of corruption and exploitation of minorities and those least equipped to fight back. This kind of thing can only be fought by bringing as much heat and attention as possible to the offenses. I'm asking for y'all's help in that.
I'm asking anyone who has information on Goff, his company, his business habits and history, and/or his relationship with sheriffs and local PD to please contact me and/or local and national press. Especially if this has happened to you or someone you know.
If you would like to donate to my friends for legal and living expenses during their fight, you can do so at:
Venmo: $hyperionasshole
41 notes · View notes
buhbuhlmao · 1 month
Text
Day 2:
I decide to make 2 favorite moments for reasons I ‘ll say later.
My favorite loop 101 moment has to be Andy’s return and the 1 minute fight.
Up until that chapter we have basically zero clue as to Mr Undead’s whereabouts, outside of what I have to call a very misleading shot of him on a camel. Then suddenly, amidst a fight with this huge powerful UMA who gets really close to killing Leila, a random arm flew from nowhere and faceplanted Sick.
Tumblr media
With this, Andy with his grin ask for Fuuko’s command and started the best one minute UMA jumping I’ve read.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Andy skillfully calls and commands every Negator available to restrain Sick and obliterating him with Dead Road, then greets Rip and Latla before flying facefirst into a meteor-comet duo is a great way to celebrate a year after him being gone from the story.
One part of this fight I never saw mentioned (likely because people made the connections already but whatever) is that the Andy clone contains so little of his actual Soul to the point where it can only last 60 seconds after landing and only uses physical attacks whereas the Andy on the Sun would probably take at most 3 seconds to skewer Sick’s soul.
It was also this fight that finally allows Fuuko to pursue a Master Rule into its hideout and making her declaration of war against Master Rules not just high talk. It is kinda hard to believe this moment is only 20 chapters ago, and 25 chapters ago we were just barely out of Chikara’s school arc.
Tumblr media
Anyway, I had to make a category for the 101th loop, and some could guess why I’m doing this: The best moment of UU thus far for me is obviously, the final minute of Ragnarok.
Before this, everyone pretty much threw everything they had at Sun, with some seemingly push them back ( Chikara, Yusai, Creed-Mico-Phil tagteam, Backs, Andy and the martial arts gang) before getting countered somehow, and Juiz’s sacrifice buying 5 whole minutes, then Victor went berserk.
Within the last minute, the fight to push Sun back or beating them suddenly becomes one to just hold this godly force back long enough for Fuuko to escape as the loss is inevitable. Even the Union’s barrier crumble as Haruka succumbs to her wounds.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
From Chikara sliding himself to the Union’s pitfall, Feng’s return after incapitacing Seal (I’m convinced he stealthily used a Soul attack that Seal had no way to defend against) and showing that he cares about what his disciple was fighting for, Kurusu praying and crying in a street corner, the gang fighting Ruin falling down to the Roundtable, to Victor firing his blood beam in conjunction with the staff.
Everyone did one last sacrificial move, be it basically punching God, holding the giant staff in place, blocking with an Untouchable sphere, and using a stasis sight one last time, all for the crying girl less than a meter from getting trampled before the timer ticks 0 and she goes with the uncaring Goddess to the next loop. Honestly I think unless there are actual insane moments in the final arc, this will be the best moment in UU for me.
10 notes · View notes
star1117-archives · 2 years
Note
angel yn/demon!san smut genre + san (obviously hihihi) + selfish desire!
𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞
Tumblr media
➵ Pairing : San x Fem!Reader
➵ Genre : Smut, Fantasy Au
➵ W.C : 2834
➵ Warnings : Multiple references to religious topics, Angel!Reader, Demon!San, Corruption, Virgin!Reader, Heavy mentions of sin, Insinuated sinful event, Corruption kink, Groping, Restraining, Physical depiction of corruption, Messy sex, Marking.
➵ A/N : Under 15’s DNI. This fic has a lot of references to God and reader questioning what is true evil and other sensitive topics. Please DNI if that will make you uncomfortable. Not a fan of this one, sorry…
© 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝟏𝟏𝟏𝟕-𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost or use my work in any way, shape or form.
Tumblr media
San was a headache. A handsome one, but nevertheless a headache.
He never did anything to your assignment, to be fair to him. His mere presence however always brought chaos with it, inevitably messing up every single opportunity you had to set your human on the right path. She was one of your hardest yet, a good person at heart but easily influenced by her surroundings. And San distracting you with petty disagreements was definitely not helpful.
You sighed as you sat atop a nearby building, watching with little interest as your human went about her daily life. This was much more preferred to any excitement however, a boring day was a good day. This good day would soon take a turn for the worst however, more than you could have ever anticipated. You knew trouble was brewing however when you smelt the (sadly) familiar scent of sulphur.
“Just when I thought I’d get a break from you.”
You heard a scoff from behind you, yet you didn’t bother to turn as you heard footsteps approach you. San didn’t get a single glance from you until he plopped down right next to you, his voice coarse as if he’d just awoken.
“No need to be mean… That’s supposed to be my thing, sweetheart.”
Despite the warm feeling that spread within you at the pet name San had forced upon you since your first encounter, you glared at him harshly.
“Leave, she’s having a good day today. The last thing I need is for you to mess everything up. Again.”
Pouting at you, San rested his head on his hand, giving you his best puppy dog eyes.
“You don’t wanna spend time with little old me?”
You couldn’t help the smile that tweaked the corners of your lips slightly, only just noticeable. San internally celebrated, proud he’d gotten a reaction out of you. Not the biggest, but still a reaction. But a second later it was gone, replaced with the ‘neutral frown of discontent’ as San liked to call it.
“No I don’t. Now stop distracting me, little demon.”
San quirked an eyebrow at this, a wicked smirk spreading across his lips.
“Ain’t nothin’ small about me, I can promise you that.”
Your eyes widened and you turned away with an embarrassed cough, jaw clenched in agitation when you heard San’s infectious laugh. His hand fell onto your shoulder and a fire tore through your body from the touch, as if something was very wrong. But also very right.
Think calm thoughts, think peaceful thoughts, think angelic thoughts.
The familiar mantra circled in your head as you closed your eyes, fighting off the sinful thoughts San was stirring up in your mind. It was what a demon’s touch did to an Angel, and if left for too long, he could corrupt you too. San however, had no knowledge of this fact. It was a well-kept secret, all the angels fearful of just what could happen if such information got into the wrong hands. The wrong fiery hands.
Just before the thoughts overwhelmed you, you swatted San’s hand away, standing up on the ledge you’d previously been sitting on and pacing a few steps away. A look of confusion and almost… hurt played across the young demon’s face, and it made something inside you twist with guilt. Why did an evil thing like him have such sad eyes? Such kissable lips? Such a beautiful body?
Crap, he’d gotten into your head again.
Holding your hand up, a small stream of light began to pool in your hand, your expression cold as San also stood up. He backed away with his hands up, not calling upon hellfire despite the imminent threat collecting between your fingertips.
“Leave. Now, you filthy hellspawn.”
San’s brows furrowed at your words, confused by your sudden hostility.
“Y/N I-”
“Leave!”
San quickly jumped out of the way when you shot the ball of light at his feet, the warning shot clearly the first and the last. Although he felt some unknown emotion gnawing at his insides, San simply laughed it off, pointing to the street below. You let out a gasp and dashed across the ledge when you saw your assignment down a back alley, tainting her aura once again. The already dim light was now hardly visible, her sins nearly outweighing her good deeds. You could hardly hear San as he called after you, his tone mocking.
“It seems you have more important business to deal with anyways, featherbrain. Have fun trying to save that human of yours, she’ll be damned by the end of the day at this rate.”
And with that, you parted ways. Despite this, it was inevitable the two of you would cross paths again, and the cycle would restart.
Tumblr media
“Y/F/N, you are a disgrace.”
Your head hung low as the guardian angel in charge of you berated you, their tone harsh.
“I don’t know what’s going on in your head these days, your assignment was finally on the holy path! It’s like you take two steps forward and five steps back!”
Tears stung the corners of your eyes, lips pursed as you stayed silent. This only angered them however, an audible scoff leaving them.
“And you aren’t even apologising, such insolence.”
You looked up for a second before dropping to your knees, hands clasped together.
“Oh powerful guardian, I have a reason! There’s a de-”
“Enough excuses, save your words for something actually useful.”
Even when they turned away from you, your position didn’t change. The guardian Angel spread their wings, sending you one last glance as they spoke.
“Go watch your human, Y/N. Make sure they’re able to get through the night without a first-class ticket to hell, if that woman is even salvageable at this point. I want a full report in the morning, then I’ll decide what to do with you.”
Standing, you followed suit and spread your own wings.
“As you wish.”
Tumblr media
It was the dead of the night, and your human was sleeping peacefully. You sat on the roof of the neighbouring house, perched carefully on the edge as you watched the slow rise and fall of her chest through the window. She had a tiring day, who could blame her for being knocked out cold?
It seemed like the universe was out to get you however, as cold soon became hot. The sweet smell of jasmine became the dreaded smell of fire. Just when you thought your day couldn’t get any worse, he appeared once again, waltzing over as if he was king of the world.
“Sweetheart! How are you doing on this fine evening?”
You gave San a hostile glare, fists balled when he sat down once again. This time however, he was considerably further away from you. Well, they may not have morals, but at least demons can take a hint.
“I have to watch her all night because of you and your shi-“
You paused for a second, eyes widened as you cupped a hand to your mouth. Did you.. did you nearly just swear?! San picked up on this too, his eyes widening as he smirked victoriously.
“My my, such a pretty angel shouldn’t have such a filthy mouth..”
You huffed and looked up at the sky, tracing all the constellations in your mind to try and distract yourself from the way your cheeks warmed. At the very least, you had been gifted with a clear sky tonight. Nothing would be hidden.
“San, I am begging you. Please don’t make my job harder than it has to be!”
There was almost a whine in your tone as you gave him an exasperated look, body slumped with exhaustion. The demon pitied you, yet he had his own duties to attend to.
“Wish I could Sweetheart, but y’know the expression. The dead of night is the devil’s playground. I have mischief to make.”
You ruffled your hair before putting your face in your hands, taking a deep breath before pulling away.
“Can you not make mischief anywhere else?! Must you plague me and my human?!”
San shook his head with a small smile, inching closer yet still at a safe distance from you.
“Sorry, you’re just fun to annoy. Plus, your human is asleep. Relax a little, nothing bad’s gonna happen to her.”
When San said this, you gulped quietly to yourself. It wasn’t only your human you were worried for, San had started to get to you too. Just the mere sight of him, sprawled out comfortably in the moonlight, it brought thoughts to your mind. Thoughts that you had fought diligently to suppress earlier on today. The only difference was, San’s touch was no where to be found. You had no excuse to blame it on. Was it even San’s doing to begin with? Or did he simply bring thoughts that were already there to the surface?
“Desire.”
You snapped out of your daze, looking at San with a confused and slightly frightened expression.
“…What?”
“Desire. It’s selfish, it’s sinful, but it’s present within all of us.”
You shook your head at this, brow furrowed.
“I hope you’re not including us angels in this hairbrained theory of yours.”
When San edged closer for the second time, closing the gap between you, your heart began to pound in your chest. It felt wrong, but it felt right. Everything about San felt wrong yet right. Despite this inner turmoil however, you didn’t pull back as you usually would when San leaned closer.
“Why not? Lucifer was an angel. One of the most powerful, most revered.”
His hand came up higher as he spoke, his fingertips toying with the ends of your hair.
“You may deny it now Y/N, but you and I aren’t as different as you pretend to believe. Deep down, you know we’re two sides of the same coin.”
You shook your head meekly at his words, a soft ‘no’ falling from your lips. San was inches from them, but you still hadn’t pulled away.
“All you have to do is give in. Give in to that selfish desire. The heart wants what it wants Sweetheart, and it will always outfox your brain. Y’know why?”
When his breath tickled your ear you shivered, a warmth radiated on your skin that you’d never felt before. San’s lips grazed your lobe as he whispered into it, sending sparks all over your body. Sparks, that could light an uncontrollable fire if left untreated. But it was far too late to consider this.
“Because the brain tricks itself into thinking its delusions are reality. That the truth is what it wants it to be. But let me enlighten you, my sweet angel.”
And with that, San’s lips crashed onto yours. An unbearable pain tore through your body but you didn’t acknowledge it, melting into the kiss as you wrapped your arms around San’s neck. It was as if he’d lit a fire inside your brain, burning away all the lies until all that was left was the truth. San’s truth. You had succumbed to the demon’s kiss, and now he had claimed you. He had succeeded in ripping you from heaven, into his arms. His year-long assignment, finally completed.
He had corrupted an angel. His angel, that he had come to love.
When you pulled back for air, your pupils were fully dilated, a dazed grin on your face as you stared at San with nothing but lust. Your irises had lost their colour, replaced with a blood red as San carefully laid you down against the roof. Now, there was nothing in your head except the overwhelming need to have San. Make him yours.
Selfish desire.
“Take me, San.”
San’s eyes gleamed at your words, and he eagerly began to remove your clothes, not questioning you for one second. Your holy garments, blessed and clean, were now left in tatters on the dirty rooftop as San hovered atop you. He’d slipped his shirt off, his mesmerising chest and torso now on full display. His form-fitting, borderline skimpy, outfit hadn’t left much to the imagination, but fuck he looked better than you’d thought he would. You couldn’t help but run your hands over his broad shoulders, the feeling of his muscles flexing against your hands a heavenly feeling.
San tried to quell his thirst for you as your hands slowly travelled over him, knowing this must all be very new for you. Most likely, you had never seen another’s body, modesty of the upmost importance in that castle in the sky. They didn’t let you live, be free. When your hands fell to the waistband of his pants however, San’s feelings got the better of him. Grabbing you by the wrists, San pinned your arms above your head with one hand as he stripped his lower half too. You watched him with a hungry gaze, mouth drying in anticipation when all of his clothes were finally gone. It was only then San hesitated, his grip loosening as he bit the inside of his cheek before speaking up.
“If we do this, you won’t ever be able to return to heaven. You’ll be going down under, for all eternity.”
You only giggled at his words however, staring at him with a lovestruck smirk. Your hands easily broke free from his loose grip, your hands coming up to cup his face.
“I don’t think heaven’s for me anyways, damnation seems so much more fun.”
San smirked back at you upon hearing your words, leaning down to pepper your face and chest with kisses before lining up with your entrance.
“Trust me, you don’t know the half of it, Sweetheart.”
And then suddenly, he was inside you. Your skin glowed as San began to thrust, a fire now overtaking your body. With each moan, each kiss, each clench, everything heavenly about you slowly disappeared. Your once white wings became blackened and ragged, some of the feathers falling away. A weird sensation made your forehead tingle, as if something had grown there. But all of this completely went over your head, the only thing you were focusing on was San. It was as if he’d set every nerve in your body on fire, and fuck it felt good.
“Shit- San! S’good baby!”
San let out a breathy moan when he heard such a filthy word fall from an angel’s lips. It made pride swell within his chest, his movements only becoming faster. He wanted to hear more, see you writhe with pleasure underneath him.
“Yeah? Feels good? You- fuck- you like it?”
You nodded quickly in response, pulling San closer so you could nip at his neck. He eagerly returned the favour, sucking purple marks onto your soft skin. It wasn’t long before San’s hips began to stutter, his thrusts becoming messy as you curled your legs around his midriff. A coil began to tighten in your stomach, your nails beginning to dig into the skin of his back.
“Sannie.. I f-feel weird..”
San let out a breathy chuckle, his hips speeding up before he pressed a kiss to your cheek.
“Just w-wait Angel, I’m nearly there. Hold it, Hm?”
You nodded, clenching as you whimpered with every thrust. He shushed you quietly, the sound soon filtering into small grunts and pants. His face screwed up as he neared his high, so close he could practically hold it. His jaw was clenched and his fists balled. Fuck, here it was.
“Go on.. c-come for me.”
Almost on cue, your eyes rolled back, body quivering as your first orgasm washed over you. It brought a tingling sensation all over your skin, almost as if it had solidified your choice. Mere seconds later you felt the peculiar sensation of San spilling into you, his mouth agape in silent satisfaction as his orgasm rolled over him. Eventually his hips came to a still, and he stayed above you for a second, catching his breath before pulling himself out and falling to your side, tugging you into his chest. He held you quietly, the silence nothing but comforting as you lay entangled together. When San’s breathing returned to its normal rate, he brushed a hair out of your eyes as he smiled at you warmly.
“Y’know.. you might not be an angel anymore, but you’ll always be my angel.”
You chuckled quietly before pressing a kiss to his collarbone, pulling away once again so you could admire him. His sweat made him almost glow in the moonlight, such a hellish being looking ethereal, heavenly. It didn’t make sense that everything was so similar, yet so different. It felt as if your entire existence had been a lie, because how can a man this perfect not be handcrafted by God himself? How could someone with such a sweet smile be evil? What is it to be evil?
“So..What happens now?”
San gave you a halfhearted chuckle, pushing a hair out of your face.
“To put it shortly… eternal damnation, Sweetheart.”
Send me a fake title !!
Tumblr media
·˚ ◌༘₊· ͟͞꒰➳ NSFW Taglist !! ˊˎ-
@agustd-essert @hyuckilstan @a-soft-hornytiny @nyghtwolff-1117 @artemis-in-your-area @violetwinters @katelynnsqueendom @galaxybambam @yunhobabygurl @midnightbluesnow7 @itbecina @hwaluvvu @ccarpc @anpanseok @yunhosprettyhand @wooandtaeluvr @mingitheii @vilavixg @the-answer-is-love-yrself @youre-a-wallflower-charlie @taehyunscaramelfrappe @imwhoever @cactusmalassus @mrcarrots @ateezbabysitters @whatudowhennooneseesyou @owjohny @meowmeowminnie @cheline @fantasy2wonderland @empiirxn @xuxibelle @dazzlingligth @foreverinlovewithdrawings
Apply for the taglists here -> ꕥ༉‧₊˚.
253 notes · View notes
angelofthenight · 2 years
Text
Last Man Alive Pt.21
Tumblr media
(Dano!Riddler x Reader)
(Link to list of chapters)
Warnings: Edward is a yandere, Dark themes, Ed is creepy and delusional, YN is scared shitless of Ed, Ed brings up emotional stuff for YN, References to stalking
Word Count: 2.5k
~
(Y/n) was filled with aversion and apprehension as she stood in front of the rising gate that would soon reveal the one she loathed the most. She got the courage to face him by herself with the comfort of him being restrained, so she let Batman wait out in the hall as she talked with him.
The seconds went by too fast before she was looking through the window to the unmasked Riddler with wet hair, cracked glasses, a white and orange striped uniform, and a handcuff device that prevented him from moving his hands too far down or up.
Upon her first meeting with his masked face, he terrified her to her very core. She knew from the start that there was something wrong with him; something sickeningly distorted within his fogged mind of fixation. Especially now since she knew she’s only interacted with him very, very few times. That’s the thing she thought was the craziest.
Her unrest, though, shifted to angered disgust as she glared at his mesmerized face. He looked at her with a sense of flusteredness in his face, bedroom eyes behind cracked lenses. His breathing was slow, almost sensual, through his small smile. “I knew you’d come.” He breathed out, like she proved her love to him in a way.
She kept her glare low, not even daring to shiver from the cold air of the asylum. “What do you want from me now?” She asked gruffly.
“‘Want’?” Ed tilted his head. “Darling, there’s only one thing I want in life. To go where you go.” He spoke in hot breaths, looking up at her with foggy, doe eyes. His eyes traveled up and down her form, taking her all in with his unmasked face. She could finally see how much his face color physically changed when she was around.
His brows curved upward, amazement laced in his soft features. “If only you knew how long I’ve been waiting for this day. All my life, I was in the background, a nobody, a zero. And then, I found you. And suddenly, everything changed. And I wasn’t alone anymore. You gave me purpose. You were my purpose. It was as if.. a switch was flipped and I could see in color. You brightened my dark world. I knew my future would be nothing but happiness with you; my soulmate.” An amused scoff erupted from his throat. “I almost feel undeserving of such a beautiful creature as my soulmate. I guess the laugh’s on the kids in the orphanage who said I’d die alone.”
His small smile lowered into a frown, his brows lowering as well. “Bruce… Wayne. Bruce… Wayne.” He said slowly, tauntingly. (Y/n) stared at him in confused fear, feeling the sweat creep up on her neck. He looked at her sadly. “I’m sorry he’s the only one I didn’t get. He was too much of a shut-in, I never could have gotten him out of there, and he was much bigger than me to take on. I’m not physically capable, my strength is up here.” He motioned to his head, as high as the chain would let his hands reach.
“So that’s why I had to resort to exposing his past and publicly humiliating him. Make you so disgusted with him that you’d leave him all on your own. He’s the one that deserves you least of all. He doesn’t understand you, he doesn’t get you like I do, he doesn’t know pain like we do.” His hands lifted up again, motioning between both of them during his last sentence.
He slowly said one last time, “Bruce… Wayne.” He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply, like he was getting something off his chest.
He swallowed before continuing to monologue. “You know, I was there that day. The day the great Thomas Wayne announced he was running for mayor, made all those promises. Well, a week later he was dead, and everybody just forgot about us. All they could talk about was poor Bruce Wayne. Bruce Wayne, the orphan. Orphan. Living in some tower over the park isn’t being an orphan. Looking down on everyone, with all that money. Don’t you tell me. Do you know what being an orphan is, darling? It’s 30 kids to a room. Twelve years old and already a drophead, numbing the pain. You wake up screaming with rats chewing your fingers. And every winter one of the babies die because it’s so cold. But, oh, no.”
He adjusted himself in his seat, smacking his lips in annoyance. “Let’s talk about the billionaire with the lying, dead daddy because at least the money makes it go down easy. Doesn’t it?” He said lowly, a growl threatening to escape through his teeth. He noticed the unsettled disquietude in (Y/n)’s face so he calmed himself down through another deep breath. His smile returned to his face. “But, it’s alright, I got the rest of ’em. All those slick, sleazy, phony pricks who blinded you and suffocated you-”
(Y/n) felt her patience snap as she took a step closer to the glass, screaming “Shut up!” Ed looked only amused, a laugh escaping the confines of his mouth. “Oh come on, they can’t mean that much to you still.” He mused. “All they’ve done is deceive and lie to you-” “The only one who lied was (E/n) so shut the hell up!” She snapped again, slapping her palms against the glass as her face morphed into fury with her features sharpening and a scowl displaying the animalistic anger.
Ed only looked at her in awe, his lips parting and his eyes gazing with passionate admiration. “Wow. Look at you. The real you.”
(Y/n)’s raged expression was caught off guard, lowering into hesitation. She wasn’t expecting that, she was more expecting him to snap back with defense for his actions. But instead he looked at her with adoring love, not a single pinch of anger or hate for her existing within him.
“Your flaws are flawless, your imperfections are perfect, your sins are beautiful.” He breathed out softly and earnestly. “That’s what no one accepts about you. That you’ve got a monstrous, violent rage within you. You tried to hide it, to change who you were, going to anger management and taking medication. Nobody accepted that that was just who you were.”
(Y/n)’s face shifted into a mask of offense, covering up how sad his statement made her. The short temper she got from her dad was a big problem in her life, refusing to give up in arguments, sometimes impulsively snapping, getting a little scary when she was mad. She lost friends because of it and adding heat to the fire when she had fights with her parents, even her moms side of the family didn’t accept her that much because of how similar she was to her dad. She pursed her lips together to prevent it from quivering, her chest feeling tight.
How come the one who understood her the most was the one she hated the most? Life wasn’t fair.
“But I accept it, I accept all of you.” Ed tilted his head again as he looked up at her, slightly nodding his head side to side as he looked at her with so much tender fondness. “I wouldn’t change or rearrange a single thing about you, you’re perfect.”
She wanted to cry right then and there. She hated that that was all she ever wanted to hear from someone. Approval and acceptance. And this man who wore his heart on his sleeve was infinitely spilling out praise and reassurance that she didn’t need to change. He was giving her everything she ever wanted, attention and acceptance, and told her everything she ever wanted to hear.
And then he ruined the moment.
“You know, I loved listening to you talk to yourself.” He began to giggle madly, like he was remembering some things she said to herself. “You are seriously like the funniest person I know, especially when you do your funny little impressions. My personal favorite is your Cat in the Hat. And the sound of your laughter, oh~” He sighed with a wide smile, too far gone in the abyss of infatuation. “We’re perfect for each other.” He rasped. His voice is cheery and upbeat as he panted breathlessly.
She remembered again everything he did to her, everything he put her through, all of the trauma and pain she could never undo. He went about love in the worst way possible. “We’re not.” She deadpanned, gritting her teeth.
“We are.” Ed argued in glee, her face completely delusional with blind passion. “We even each other perfectly, we’re the others’ other half; soulmates.”
“We’re not soulmates.”
“You’re my reason to live.”
“I don’t even know you.”
He stood up from his seat, scaring (Y/n) and making her take a step back as she didn’t want to be any closer to him than she had to, going from looking down at him to looking up due to his height. He pressed his hands against the glass, his face only centimeters away from it as he looked straight at her. The light only brightened up half his face as he tilted his head with loony eyes and a mad smile, his words sounding breathy and almost excited.
“My body and my soul belong to you, my one wish is to go where you go. I’ll follow you to the depths of Hell if I have to. Not a moment in my life will be spent without serving you; worshiping you.” Each sentence that left his lips was muddled with riddled devotion; a promise she prayed that he wouldn't keep.
She looked at him in discomposed disbelief. This man, no, this-this monster, was anything other than humane. He held not an ounce of sanity. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” She breathed out, her eyebrows curving upward.
Ed blinked, a smile twitching the corners of his lips up, thinking he heard wrong. “W-What?” His voice cracked in sadness, his eyebrows curving up. He thought that by now, since she had slim to no one left, she’d open her eyes and accept fate with him. She couldn’t still be confused right?
“What you think we have, it’s all in your head.” She said with a stone cold glare.
“How can you say that?” His lips trembled.
(Y/n)’s brows cinched together, her upper lip twitching up in a cringe. “For a genius, you are so stupid.” She scoffed, shaking her head in angered disbelief, still baffled how he became like this by just two brief and dry interactions. “That’s the thing with men, especially men like you. You think every attractive girl that is nice to you is flirting with you.”
Ed felt a crack creep across his heart. What was she saying? That wasn’t how it went.
“Did you seriously think I was your soulmate just because I was nice to you? You’re pathetic.” Ed was shaking his head by now, in his own disbelief as she continued to say the opposite of what he expected her to say. “I was only nice to you because you were a human needing help and I was in a good mood.”
Ed aggressively shook his head, his world shattering around him by her reality crushing words. His eyes became heartbroken. He rambled a string of ‘no’s before she struck a painful chord. “As soon as I left that coffee shop, I forgot about your existence. I felt nothing for you.”
He pushed himself off the glass, painful shock and denial shaking his insides as his heart pounded in agony. “No! No, no!” With each word, his breathing was becoming more prominent to you. It’s heavy; panicked.
“You’re nothing but a nobody to me!” (Y/n) yelled over his manic screaming.
Ed was pacing the floor, screaming as his eyes filled with desperate tears. “NO! Ahhh! This is not how this was supposed to go! Ahhh! I had it all planned out!” He loudly whined and thrashed his arms around like a child. “We were gonna be safe here! We would watch the whole thing together! We were gonna cuddle! You were gonna accept our true love and kiss me and thank me for freeing you!”
(Y/n) internally flinched from his earlier reference, fearful foreboding whipping around in her. “Watch what?” She asked. “Everything!” Ed wailed, motioning toward the window with grieving desperation.
The air went tense, so thick you could see it freeze in its tracks. A long silent stare was passed between the disquieted girl and sniffling killer.
“It was all there.” He croaked, baffled disbelief crawling up his back. “You mean, you didn’t figure it out?” Ed gasped slowly, walking towards the glass with shock. “Oh, the Bat is really not as smart as I thought he was. I guess I gave him too much credit.”
“What have you done?” (Y/n) asked, her throat feeling bone dry in anticipating terror.
His face got very close to the glass as his once heartbroken face lifted in teasing amusement, he hadn’t lost yet. “What can make people happy, can make people cry, and can drive people crazy?” He whispered down at her, making her want to pee herself from how anxiously terrified she was.
He inched his head closer, the tip of his nose touching the glass as he whispered out, “Love.”
He backed up a little bit, looking at her with a more stoic but pleased look, his eyes nothing but lustful. “And once it’s over, you’ll be all mine. Because you’ll have no choice.”
“What did you do?” (Y/n) asked lowly, stepping back up to the glass, not caring about her mental alarms that told her to stay as far away from him as possible. Ed breathly snickered, looking at her with amusement as he began singing in falsetto. “Ave Maria~”
She couldn’t hold back her fists from slamming on the glass. “What did you do?” She loudly growled but he continued to sing. “Gratia plena~” His singing felt mocking to her, pushing her anger to her limits as she started pounding her fists with all her strength against the glass, wanting it to break more than anything.
“What did you do!?” She maniacally screamed on the glass, her beastly rage making her pound and claw at the glass like a rabid animal. It didn’t affect Ed at all whatsoever. “I swear you better pray I never get the chance to get my hands on you! I’ll fucking kill you, I swear it! I fucking swear it, you cunt!”
Her threats fell on deaf ears. “Maria Gratia plena~”
Her teeth grinded together in huffing growls, realizing he wanted her to figure it out on her own and she was just wasting her own time. She shoved herself off the glass and darted out of the room, the falsetto singing sounding further away once she ran into the hall where Batman waited for her. In a race against an unpredictable clock, she didn’t stop nor slow down her running when she passed him to yell, “We missed something huge!” Batman didn’t ask any questions so he instantly began running with her.
-
Taglist: @kpopgirlbtssvt @frankiethedarkangel @chezzywezzy @21stcenturywitchcraft @gaytaylorswift @plaguerat44 @zerodroid @kravitzwhore @ihavenorealfriendslol @delusi0nalvic @alicefallsintotherabbithole @twilightdollie @librafilms @etherealweed @crabbyman @notevanpetersbuthisgf @inksplattersblog @themartiansdaughter @lauftivy @sunnnyshark @ravendgie @paradox-brody-chase @neserinda @m1ndbrand @psychadelichues @the-sander-fander @th3r1ddler @crayolahandsanitizer @misdty @rosaline-black @repostingmyfavs @plumes-de-nuit @agent-night @crabravee @yumejoushi @slut-for-matt-murdock
244 notes · View notes
Text
ANALYSIS #1: 03/06/24
My first specimen, and what a nice find. I had quite a lot of fun going through this list, and I hope you're able to find something valuable within my research, #1. I know I certainly did myself while investigating.
What exactly was inside that list you gave me again?
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Ah, yes. You gave a hearty dose full of useful information. Many great places for analyzation.
Why don't we start off with the data I've gathered on your background then, hm? 
Context is always the first step into investigations like these. And yours seems rather intriguing..
"LORE":
Let's address the elephant in the room first: your parents. My god, do they seem horrific.
They clearly didn't care for you, or at least not in the way you needed to be cared for. Violence has definitely plagued your home, whether it be verbal or physical, though I'm leaning more towards verbal in this instance. Anyone who's said "words don't cut" has clearly never stepped near your family. I can imagine the scars are unbearable. Hell, it seems like even the smallest things can take you back to that wretched excuse of a home, and it makes you feel pathetic. It's not by the way, in case you were wondering, but me saying that will never be proof enough, is it? I know you're smart (something I'll expand on later). I know that you recognize that all your reactions to these memories are completely valid, but it must be hard to believe in your own thoughts when they've been pushed down by others over and over again, right?
The saddest bit is that I think deep down, you do want to love your parents. You yearn to feel the kind of affection you've seen in all your favorite shows. You want somebody to pick you up off the street and care for you unconditionally. You never wanted to feel this kind of pain from them.
It seems your parents weren't the only harsh parts of your life. You've lost unbelievable amounts from your childhood as well. Maybe you've lost everything. It's why you pay so much attention to the small things in life. Not because you want to, but because you need to. You wouldn't have anything if you didn't take the time to enjoy the little details in life.
Adding onto this loss, I feel like abandonment might play a role in this specifically. You've been abandoned and you want someone to truly care for you this time. To remember you and keep remembering you.
You yearn to do more with your life. Something is holding you back. It could be your self doubt, or your values, your loved ones, maybe the entirety of the world itself. It's hard to pinpoint, but something has held you back. I can feel how close you are to cracking. And I think you should keep in mind that cracking isn't as bad as people might make it out to be. Remember, we wouldn't have glass paintings without picking up our broken pieces.
All in all, I can confirm one thing: There are people in your life that you're still restraining screams from. Parents are obviously one of them, as stated before, but I feel like there's more. Much more. Maybe old friends, partners, it could be anybody, really. All I truly know is that your screams could leave a cave echoing for years, and I think your heart has been a replacement for that cave for far too long. It's not fair. It never will be. You and I both know that an eternity of screaming could never make up for the damages you've been dealt.
Now, I know I've left a lot of these threads untied, but trust me, we're getting there. Now that context has been provided, that gives us room to determine what exactly your true issues in life are. What's really been weighing you down? How exactly does your brain function with all of this in mind?
THE TRUTH:
You don't trust yourself. Maybe you've hurt someone before (or believe you have) and it has never left you since. Maybe it's just the fact that you've grown up in such vicious conditions that you're afraid you'll unknowingly do the same to the people you truly love. You will do everything in your power to make sure you never hurt anyone like the way they hurt you, even if it means destroying yourself.
Sometimes you wonder if destroying yourself would finally get you the help you've been waiting for all these years. Nothing seems to have worked in giving you the aid you need, so clearly there's something you're missing, right?
It's either that or you find the quickest way to forget everything. You want to forget everything, don't you?
It's why vulnerability is one of your greatest fears. True vulnerability. You've never shown a single soul what you are when completely defenseless. Or maybe you have. Maybe it was the last time you ever did. Either way, there is a reason that nobody has seen you without a mask on. Some may have seen you with thinner masks than others, but nobody has seen your true face. You want to show them, but it's too much to bear. Not only for you but for what you believe others should not be burdened with as well. You'd rather drown in yourself than risk drowning another.
It's thoughts like these that consume your mind when at your lowest. 
Do not fall for their deception.
And I have all the proof I need to show how these thoughts could never be more wrong.
YOUR BEST TRAITS:
You care. You genuinely care. You care for strangers that  you'll most likely never come across again in your life. You know this and you choose to care anyways. You are one of the few who still wears a tender heart on their sleeve, and you wield it as if it were armor. Choosing to stay kind in even the harshest situations, even when rage feels like the only thing you know. I know you want the world to feel your wrath, and trust me, the world knows you could end her. It takes a hero to manage such a beast. Take pride in that.
You seem highly intelligent, or at least highly emotionally intelligent, which is one of the most for-granted and powerful type of intelligence people can have. People might not recognize it at first, but you're able to understand others in a way that most cannot. Ironically, "empath" is a term that could genuinely suit you, despite the amount of jokes surrounding it. Because in all honesty, you are the exact type of friend that everybody needs. It's just a matter of whether or not they deserve your kindness.
Adding onto this, you're very protective over the people you hold close to you. You're protective in a very special way though. Instead of jumping into battle, you fight on the sidelines, away from the crowd. And once you get the chance, you heal as much as you are able to. Not only are you protective and loyal, but rational and understanding. That doesn't make you any less fierce. It makes you much stronger than people even realize. 
Honestly, you've always been a soldier. A fighter. You've been fighting your whole life and I can just imagine that it still feels like the war has only begun. Remember these battles though, and I mean every one. The ones you've won, and the ones you've lost, because frankly the outcome doesn't matter. It's the fact that you survived and kept fighting that matters. Not only that, but the fact that you're able to still care for the world after all it's done to you? That's how the finest weapons are made.
Also, a fellow analyzer I see. That's always a plus in my books. Welcome to the team.
And with that, I think I'll leave my thoughts there and take my bow.
With utmost gratitude (and hopefully utmost accuracy),
Dr. WZ
2 notes · View notes
thotsforvillainrights · 5 months
Note
That one I sent with the tooth falling out was long so imma try to keep the others short to not spam you! 
Babies first swear. I think Skeptic does swear, but he’s not dumb enough to swear in front of his own flesh and blood, at least within hearing range. He’ll have times where he *almost* slips up, but he never actually does. 
So image the absolute boiling rage he feels when he leaves Tomoko in the care of his co-workers for a day - ONE day - and she comes home to excitedly tell him the funny new word she heard. Of course, when he innocently asks her who taught her such a word, she replies she doesn’t know, she just heard someone yell it, before toddling off. 
The next day Skeptic has to physically restrain himself from busting the office doors off their hinges as he proceeds to interrogate his coworkers 
(No worries! I enjoy writing Dad!Skeptic content so much. It's like a little treat for me every single time lol)
~Unsupervised Attention~
Tumblr media
headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up
It's a certainty that Skeptic swears. He used to do it a lot more before getting together with you. Now he tries to keep it to a minimum here and there. When Tomoko came along, he's gotten an even better hold of it...at least when it's in front of her specifically. Surely he has his times when he nearly slips up in front of her. An example would be last week when he was heading into the kitchen for breakfast half-asleep. He stubbed his toe on the couch corner and you saw a tear roll down his cheek when he slapped his hand over his mouth to prevent the cursing from coming forward. Those tiny eyes were watching and those tiny ears were most definitely listening as well. Tomoko was younger at this time frame. She's in the phase where she copies everything she hears around her and will likely say it even when the situation doesn't call for it. She heard you say 'Oh wooooww' sarcastically and now she's been stuck saying it for 2 weeks straight (even when it doesn't match what's happening in the moment).
It's probably the worst day for Skeptic when he brings her to work with him. It's not that you had any errands to run but that school was closed for today and he wanted to spend a little time with his mini-me for a bit. It was supposed to really be a quick in and out trip to the office. He didn't intend to actually get wrapped up in the essential work the other board members had presented to him. He had no other choice in this very moment than to leave Tomoko with some lower level grunts so he could get the work out of the way quickly. So after littering her face with kisses (and threatening the workers to make sure she would be protected) he left his baby girl alone for a few hours. Those few hours turned into many before he was finally able to retrieve his daughter and bring her home. He gave a few good look overs before holding her closely and taking her out of the busy building. On the way home she piped up excitedly in the back seat, telling him she learned a new word today. Skeptic, being the excited father that he was, eagerly asked her what that word was. He expected to hear some tech related vocabulary thinking he would be able to have a gateway to teach her a little more about computers from this point.
He wasn't expecting to hear the word 'shit' leave her precious little mouth. He gasped and she giggles sweetly, not fully understanding the gravity of the situation at hand. He finally cleared his throat and asked her through gritted teeth "Who taught you that word, kid?" She only replied that she didn't know but that she heard someone yell it earlier. He nodded to himself, trying to remain calm as he pulled into the driveway. Once inside, she toddled off elsewhere to play with her dolls while Skeptic was already creating a hit list in his head. The very next day it took everything within him to not take the doors off the hinges when he burst into the building. Working at F.G.I it wasn't an unusual sight to see Tomoyasu Chikazoku fuming at something or someone. However, that didn't make it any less scary. This is especially more terrifying for the few employees he gathered to interrogate about his daughter learning a 'new word' at work. God help the man/woman/or person that confesses to being the root of this issue...
3 notes · View notes
Text
He Used To Be Mine - Part 13
He Gets Hurt (But He Learns How To Toughen Up)
(In case you were wondering, my brain decided to make things worse by writing the part immediatley BEFORE the last one I posted. Because I'm deficient like that.
If you want the part after this, go HERE. Otherwise, you can find the first four parts of this saga on AO3)
.....
Rating: T Characters: Kevin Owens, Sami Zayn, Becky Lynch, Seth Rollins Characters Mentioned: The Bloodline, Triple H Pairing: Sami Zayn/Kevin Owens Tags: Concussion, Injury, Angst, Inner Monologue, Missing Scene Word Count: 4128 Kevin lost. He lost hard. So did Sami, in a way.
But also, in Sami losing, he gained something wonderful in return. His fire. His fury. All the fierce and righteous rage that Kevin had found so beautiful in Sami for so long. And as he and Sami navigate the night and morning after the PLE, Kevin is relishing that fire and their renewed closeness.
If only his mind wasn't a fucking sieve from the concussion...
(Story behind cut)
..........
Sami Uso was no more. 
That was if he ever really was, to begin with. 
And as Kevin joined Sami in the trainers' room to be looked over, there were no words spoken between them. There were no words that could even compare to what just happened. 
Plus, between Sami getting spiked in the throat and the pounding in Kevin’s head that made it impossible to hear anything besides the blood rushing through his swollen brain, communication would have been pointless anyway. 
Neither one of them was willing to go to the hospital though.  It wasn’t what they needed. Not really. 
Well, it was what they needed physically. God knew they needed medical attention beyond what the backstage trainers could offer. Sami had been pummeled into oblivion with a chair and Kevin knew full well he was concussed. They’d both had the piss beaten out of them, battered within an inch of their lives. But spending however long in a hospital bed could never heal the true wounds. 
Those could only be healed by each other. 
So when they finally signed their “against medical advice” waivers and left the trainers’ room, there was no question of what came next. 
If there was any volume to Kevin’s voice as he spoke, he couldn’t hear it himself. 
“Stay with me tonight.” 
Sami seemed to understand anyway, nodding silently. 
It wasn’t like Sami had any other option. Every hotel in the area had been booked that weekend for months and, well, it went without saying that Sami Zayn had been suddenly left without a safe place to spend the night. Where they stood on things, where they had found themselves after everything would come later. There were more important things to deal with.
Like making sure they both survived the night.
Kevin knew he’d be fine. All jokes about being hard-headed aside, it wasn’t his first concussion. He knew what to do on his own to deal with it. The rest of his body hurt like hell too and somewhere in his rattled brain he suspected the match had taken at least a year off the lifespan of his career, but that was a problem for future KO to deal with.
Current KO, at that moment, had to deal with more pressing matters. Like protecting Sami Zayn.
Sure, he was in no shape to do so, but he wasn’t restrained any longer. He’d use his own body as a shield if he had to. He wasn’t going to let those assholes hurt Sami anymore.
He took Sami by the wrist, limping through the hallways to the main locker room. It was lucky for everyone that the ringing in his ears made it impossible to hear any whispers that people might be sharing as they passed by. He didn’t need to know what they thought, and they didn’t want him to know what they were saying. He’d gotten his bell rung and his body broken but he wasn’t dead yet; he could still hurt people. 
The Bloodline didn’t bother them in the locker room. Why would they? They thought they were so much better than everyone else on every day that ended in Y, relaxing in their posh dressing room with the fancy furniture and shit. Why would they trifle with common folk? Besides, they had time and numbers on their side. Roman was a snake, all he had to do was wait for them to return, whenever that was, and he’d sic his pack of dogs on them both. It was two against four and even Kevin had to admit those were pretty shitty odds.
Then again, they were the best wrestlers in the world, they wouldn’t go down without a fight. Probably still go down though. If he didn’t stand a chance against Roman in GOD Mode, then Sami sure as hell wouldn’t. No, they were going to spend the immediate future getting the shit kicked out of them until Roman got bored and moved on to the next body for the pile.
Kevin’s chest tightened at the thought of Sami’s body joining his on that stack but Kevin was choosing to believe he wouldn’t be stupid enough to try and face his former “family” alone.
He probably was. He was Sami Zayn after all. Reason had never been his strong suit.
Sami stood nearby as he changed out of his ring gear, hovering over him protectively like a hawk, his eyes scanning around the room looking for threats. It made Kevin sad to see. Not the sight of Sami’s fierce nature returned, but the knowledge that he’d forget the sight of it. Kevin stared at Sami, trying to commit the sight to memory, but he could feel it slipping through his mind every time he looked away.
Stupid concussion.
He finished by pulling his SAMI ZAYN FORE❤ER shirt over his head. Kevin loved the article so much, the perfect shirt born of an imperfect situation. Sure, the match had been fun to watch, but the lot of them were far below Sami’s caliber of opponent. Johnny Knoxville and his Jackasses could all suck his dick, Sami was the true Forever.
He always had been.
And, as he stood back up, he couldn’t help but notice the look Sami gave his shirt. The faintest of smiles crossed Kevin’s face as Sami reached out, his fingers brushing against the lettering almost in awe. For a moment, Sami’s eyes met his own and Kevin saw more emotions there than he could have possibly registered. So many emotions, all of which were circling back to the same point.
Pain.
It was fitting, naturally. He was in pain. Sami was in pain. It was just more pain to add to the mix. 
But again, they said nothing. 
Sami didn’t even bother trying to recover his stuff. He’d left it with The Bloodline and going after it was a non-starter, he wasn’t getting it back from them. It had probably already been shredded, smashed, or thrown in the nearest dumpster or body of water. They’d probably keep his phone though. There were uses for a cell phone beyond the original user. If they didn’t just want to sell it Roman could use it against them once they got into it.
They could if they wanted to. Sami had never been the best on security and Kevin was sure Roman had the connections to hack past a lock screen. If he didn’t already know the passcode.
Sami had always been way too fucking trusting.
People were watching him. Watching and whispering.
It was probably a good thing he couldn’t hear them. Also that he’d probably forget them doing so once his brain unfucked itself.
Stupid concussion.
Becky Lynch drove them back to the hotel. Sami wasn’t in the right frame of mind to drive, and Kevin couldn’t operate a car in his state if he wanted to. He didn’t ask her to but, somehow, yet again, Becky was there to rescue them and get them where they needed to be. 
She was good for that. 
When they got to the hotel, Becky didn’t leave them. Not yet. He’d no sooner gotten out of the vehicle than she was propping him up the best she could. It made him feel bad, to do that to her, but his knees were crap enough that he could barely get through the lobby and Sami’s back was too messed up to support them both. Somehow, Seth Rollins showed up and ducked under his other shoulder. 
It was confusing. When had he shown up? Was he in the car with them? He hadn’t noticed. Or maybe he had and just forgot.
Kevin tried not to think about why the hell Seth would do that. 
Probably for Becky. 
Certainly not for him. 
When the four of them got to his hotel room, Seth held out his hand for the keycard. He gave it to Becky instead. Opening the door for them both, she helped them inside, putting his stuff on the luggage rack as Seth guided Kevin to the bed.
Becky asked him if he was ok. He wasn’t. Hell, the only thing he could register was her lips moving, reading them and imagining her deep brogue inside his still-pounding head
He just nodded. The couple left soon after that, with Seth casting a sympathetic look behind as he did.
Kevin was grateful that he’d forget that part. Far be it from him to be kind to the dickhead at a later date.
Showers were out of the question. So was food. So was pretty much anything except crawling into the king bed on opposite sides and leaving the world behind for the night. Sami stripped down to his boxers for bed, declining the offer of one of Kevin’s spare shirts because of course even then he would be a stubborn ass. 
Somewhere, between the haze and fog of Kevin’s vision, he registered that Sami was shaking.  
Sami hadn’t looked like himself forever, or, at least, not the version of Sami that Kevin had fallen in love with. But there was something new to him. 
Not fear. 
Not tears. 
Rage. 
Pure, unfettered fury edging around Sami’s features that Kevin wasn’t sure if he should be worried about or celebrating. He’d always loved seeing that side of Sami, the side that was unafraid and unyielding, but he also knew that when Sami got emotional, he got stupid.
Kevin decided he’d go with celebrating. As long as Sami didn’t try and do something idiotic like face The Bloodline alone, Kevin would welcome the change in attitude.
Wait…
Kevin’s train of thought stopped. Hadn’t he already considered that?
Kevin looked around… and realized he’d already forgotten how he got back to the hotel room.
God, his brain was so messed up.
“Sami…” he said, wavering on his feet.
In an instant, Sami was beside him, holding him up. He was talking, saying something, but Kevin couldn’t make it out. Everything fucking hurt and the audio feed was nothing but static.
“Kev,” he saw Sami say, and everything else melted together as the world turned sideways.
..........
Kevin was in bed. How had that happened?
He looked to his right… and saw Sami, his back resting against the headboard, and looking at his phone.
The light was on and way too bright but he was grateful for the chance to look around. The hotel room looked like every other hotel room across America, although he wasn’t sure where this one in particular was.
He groaned. Everything hurt.
It got Sami’s attention and a moment later, Sami was off his phone, laying beside him. Kevin tried to get a good look at him through the pain and, fuck he was gorgeous. The fire in his eyes, he’d missed that so much.
Or at least, he thought he had.
What was his brain doing…
Oh.
Stupid concussion.
“You OK?” Sami asked. His voice was off, as if someone was trying to feed it through an old speaker that was equal parts muffled and crackling and, as he tried to register what was going on, it occurred to him that he was in bed with Sami Zayn.
Why…
Why the hell was Sami in bed with him?
“Sami?” he asked, his own voice muffled as well, “Why are you here? Where’s your family?”
He didn’t mean to say it. Or maybe he did.
Regardless, he knew he’d struck a nerve because Sami turned away from him sharply, climbing out of bed and walking away.
Whatever. He was probably just there to finish him off in his sleep or some shit. That was if he was kind enough not to smother him while awake. Still, everything fucking hurt and he needed to turn off, however that might work out.
He reached over, setting his alarm for the next morning. He didn’t even know if he’d set it right but he really couldn’t care less. If he missed his flight he’d get a new one, there was no way in hell he was making it to Raw on Monday anyway. 
He knew a concussion when he had one.
Stupid concussion.
Everything hurt, and as Kevin laid on his back trying not to scream, he forced his eyes closed and his brain to sleep. 
..........
It was sometime in the early hours of the morning when Kevin woke up with a weight against his chest.  
His eyes opened slowly and, fuck, his head was pounding, but something was pressing against his side. 
Reaching up to feel it, making sure to be gentle on his wrist which was especially sore for some reason, he found long, sweat-damp curls laying against his chest. 
Sami was curled against him.  Crying in his sleep.
Somewhere in KO’s mind, he had a notion of familiarity, like it had happened before, recently even. But fuck if nothing was making sense at that point and, actually, what the hell was Sami doing in bed with him anyway?
Kevin’s fingers flexed through the curls as he tried to remember what had led to his current arrangement. He’d had a match against Roman, he knew that. The way his whole body felt like he’d been eaten by a wolf and shat off a cliff suggested he’d lost.
But why was Sami there? Had something gone wrong?
Had Sami been…
Kevin still couldn’t hear him. Everything sounded like he was underwater. Still, Kevin had held Sami while crying enough times to know what he felt like. Shaking him, he said Sami’s name. Once, Twice. Three times. He was on the fourth when Sami startled, shifting suddenly.  
“Hey,” Kevin said.  
And then, Sami was gone, moved to the other side of the bed lying on his back. It was hard to see him in the dark; the only light was the cracked bathroom door that Sami always insisted on leaving open. But the light was still around the corner and coming from behind Sami, so it was doing little to illuminate him.
Reaching over, Kevin ran his fingers against Sami’s hair, swiping down across his shoulder. He was so stiff and still shaking and Kevin needed to see him, to face him, if he could just get his body to move... 
It took effort and sucked greatly but after a bit, he managed to turn on his side to face Sami. It was still too dark to make out details but as his eyes began to adjust to the light, he realized Sami wasn’t even acknowledging him. He was simply laying on his back, staring at the ceiling.
Despite the pain in his… everything, there was still enough extra pain in his soul to register his heart breaking.
Kevin’s hand came to rest on Sami’s bare chest.
“Please,” Kevin said. “Please.” 
He didn’t know what he was asking.  Or who he was asking. 
God, he was so fucking tired. 
His eyes began to close again but he fought it. Sami was more important. Sami needed him. Reaching over, he took Sami by the shoulder as carefully as he could and put just enough pressure on it to make his point. 
Come back to me. 
Back to my arms. 
Back where you belong. 
Kevin didn’t know you could plead with someone through a touch but there he was, all but on his knees asking for mercy for them both.
There was no response at first but, after an agonizingly long time, Sami shifted, turning to face him. There was still a distance between them, always far too much distance, but it was an improvement. Again making sure not to strain his wrist, Kevin lowered his hand, resting it above Sami’s hip. Strangely, Sami let him.
Something had definitely happened.
He searched his brain for answers and found none.
He sighed.
Stupid concussion.
He wanted to kiss Sami. Maybe if he could just kiss Sami, he’d remember. Taste whatever victory Sami might have earned without him on his lips. But he didn’t. There was no kiss, no profession of love, nothing that would constitute Sami’s willingness to forgive him.
Forgiveness.
Kevin was pretty sure he’d already done that part. How the hell could he stay mad at Sami? Sami, his Sami, his soulmate. All he’d wanted for months was to save him. To protect him. To break him away from The Bloodline for his own good.
Right?
A thought filtered through his hazy brain. An image of Sami standing across from him, wiping blood off his face, smearing it onto his white wrist tape.
Maybe not then. He should get on that.
Sometime. It was an issue for future KO to deal with.
At that moment, he just needed to get through the night.
Sami was still shaking and Kevin wished he could see Sami’s eyes through the darkness; That he could admire and cherish the fire there, the righteous rage from his soul reignited.
Kevin couldn’t help but think it would be the most beautiful sight in the world.
And a little bit scary.
But, he couldn’t see it, the light was far too dim, and even if he could, it would just be another memory stolen from him by the events of the night.
Still, he needed to be closer. He needed it, he craved it, even if he forgot it all, maybe, maybe…
He shifted again and pushed his arm forward, nudging at Sami’s head. Through all impossibility, Sami lifted his head, allowing Kevin to slide under him. For a second, his heart caught for a moment, the tiniest flicker of hope still burning growing stronger. But the distance remained, Sami moved no closer and didn’t relax.
A tear Kevin hadn’t even realized had formed rolled down his face.
It was the most he was going to get. For that night. Potentially forever. And as he tried to hold onto the sensation, he knew in his heart he was going to remember none of it.
Stupid concussion.
It didn’t matter. Again, they just needed to get through the night. Whatever came next, they’d figure it out later.
Kevin felt vibrations against his arm, almost as if Sami was speaking. To speak through the pain and agony whatever was on his mind.
Kevin still couldn’t hear him properly. It was probably better that way.
But in his mind, his concussion-addled mind, Kevin wondered what Sami might have been saying. What words of comfort he might have been trying to speak. 
Or, words of aggression. 
Kevin’s eyes drifted shut. The pain was too much. The aches and pounding and agony were just too damn much and, against every will or wish that he had, he felt the world slipping away and into darkness.
….......
It was morning.
And his phone was ringing.
Kevin’s eyes cautiously opened as he immediately registered an entire body’s worth of sore.
His phone was still ringing.
Reaching over, he picked it up. The number… he knew that number, what was it...
He hit the button to answer.
“Hello?” he asked. God, he sounded awful.
“Hey Kevin,” a nasal voice on the other end sounded. Funny, he remembered it being sharper than that. “It’s Seth.”
“Wha—” Kevin looked at the number again. “Why are you calling me?”
“Just checking in. You got pretty smashed up last night. Wanted to make sure you were ok.”
Kevin shook his head, immediately regretting it. “Ok, again, why?”
“Hey, I’m not that big an asshole. Just because we have our differences doesn’t mean I want to see you brain damaged.”
Brain damaged….
Kevin thought for a moment, trying to remember what had happened the night before, but it was all a blur. He was in a hotel room, that much was true, but he had no recollection of getting there or of the match that he was obviously beat to hell from. Why the hell didn’t he rememb…
Brain damaged…
Oh.
Fuck, how bad a concussion did he have?
“What happened?” he asked.
“Your eggs got scrambled, Kevin, aren’t you paying attention?”
“No, I get the concussion, that’s why I’m asking. What the hell happened in the match.”
“You lost.”
“I figured that. What happened with Sami? Is Sami OK? Did he…”
A brief flash of the night before came rippling through his mind. The feeling of long, tangled curls against his fingers. Against his chest. A familiar weight resting against his chest for the first time in forever.
“Seth,” Kevin said slowly, “Sami. Was he here?”
Kevin heard Seth sigh on the other end before responding. “Look, if you want a blow by blow, call my wife. You like her better anyway. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t dead. You’re welcome, by the way.”
Kevin scowled. “I’m not dead. Thanks for your concern.”
“Good luck finding a ride to the airport. I was going to offer but I have a qualifying match tomorrow for Elimination Chamber. Maybe you can find your way out of the lobby to an uber. Just make sure there’s an elevator waiting before you step through the doors.”
“Fuck you, Seth.”
“Yeah, figured. Whatever. Just don’t do anything stupider than usual or Becky will blame me.”
Kevin’s jaw clenched. He didn’t have time for Seth.
“Go to hell,” he grumbled and, pulling the phone back, hung up on him. He really was an asshole, regardless of what he said.
Kevin got out of bed and stretched. It was a mistake, he felt like he’d been run over by a freight train, but he managed to get himself up and, after using the bathroom, headed to his suitcase to get ready.
He was midway through getting dressed when he noticed the time on the clock.
12:47 PM.
What?!?
His mind raced as he looked at his phone to double check. Yep, it was after noon and, somehow, his alarm hadn’t gone off. He brought up the app, had he messed up in setting it…
Oh.
The alarm was turned to OFF.
It was set to OFF and there was a note listed for it.
“Check the dresser.”
What the fuck?
Getting up he hobbled over to the dresser. There was a note, scribbled on the hotel notepad.
I turned off your alarm. You needed the sleep. Room’s taken care of for another two nights. Hunter’s handling your flight.
Take your time. You’re on concussion protocol anyway so don’t bother showing up to Raw or Smackdown for a while.
See you whenever. I have work to do.
- Sami
Kevin’s brow furrowed. Sami had been there. He’d not only been there, he’d spent the night.
But why?
He tried to remember, straining against the brain fog but nothing was coming through. Had they turned on Sami? Had Sami tried to save him?
What? The Fuck? Had Happened???
Flashes of black, red, and orange coursed through his brain. The feeling of being chained up, the feeling of being slammed against stairs, being kicked in the head repeatedly, and everything turning to grey.
And, one final flash, the sight of Sami Zayn, holding a chair in front of him… and then using it on Roman Reigns.
Looking at the note again, his fingers brushed against Sami’s name at the bottom. Sami had left a note. He’d spent the night and he’d left a note.
Did Sami care? Were they friends again? Is that what they were? He looked at the notepad again.
San Antonio, TX, it read.
Kevin rolled his eyes. He really fucking hated Texas. Nothing good ever happened in Texas. At least whatever happened this time, he wouldn’t have to deal with remembering it. His pride still stung from being dragged out of Wrestlemania by the Texas Rangers.
Still, he wished he knew what happened. Not in the match, but after. He wanted to know what Sami had said, what he’d done.
If Sami had forgiven him.
His head hurt too much to process it. He put the notepad down and, having a drink from a bottle that someone had been kind enough to leave on the dresser beside the notepad, crawled back into bed. He needed more sleep and if Hunter was handling everything, he was in good hands.
Doing his best to relax, he pulled the covers over himself, drifting away again. And, as he did, memories came back.
Not of the night before. But of a dream.
A vivid, agonizing dream that he couldn’t place. There were no details to it, no context, no plot.
Just one image.
The image of a fallen angel. His angel, transformed into a demon with broken, bloody wings, bared fangs, and crimson horns sprouted from flaming orange hair.
Guardian no more. Now bent on vengeance.
And as that dream faded into oblivion, Kevin Owens headed into the next one.
6 notes · View notes
discoseal · 2 years
Text
solivagant || b.bradshaw
T H R E E 
1.7 k
AN: Hi again.  Nothing too exciting going on at the moment, been busy with school and work, but... Here is the next chapter.  Enjoy friends!
Tumblr media
Alex readjusted herself to lean on Nat's shoulder, the breeze blowing the strands of her hair into her face.  They had a rare day off from training and decided that a girl’s day on the beach was a good idea.  And it definitely was.
They had convinced Penny to supply them with some sangrias and daiquiris throughout the day and within the past couple of hours decided to cut themselves off.  The two girls had laid out in the sun and caught up on each other's lives.  Now the sun was setting, and Alex had become clingy, not to say Natasha wasn't feeling the same way. Their friendship had always been physical, holding a hand or grabbing an arm.  Alex felt her eyes close when her friend spoke up.
"Are your parents still nutcases?"  She just snorted and shook her head. "That bad?"
"They actually tried to weasel their way onto the base in Hawaii.  Why they were in Hawaii, I will never know.  They also showed up to the house I had in Florida.  It was messy."  
"Do you think they'll ever stop?"  Alex paused for a moment, opening her eyes again and stared out at the sea.  
"Probably not.  They've suddenly decided that I'm worth their time because of the money I've made.  Those are not people I want to be around.  I've been working on getting a restraining order, but it's proving to be more difficult than we originally thought."  Natasha pulled her down onto the blanket they were sitting on and held her.  
The whole day reminded Alex of summer days when they were in high school, minus the alcoholic drinks.  The two would drive out to a river and lay out on the public dock all day, just enjoying spending time with each other.  Sometimes they would float in the river as well.  The day typically ended with Alex coming over to Nat's house, her mom and dad being more of a family to her than her own parents. 
Neither woman said anything for a while, just lying on the blanket, Nat holding Alex as they enjoyed the last rays of warmth from the southern California sun.  Alex felt Natasha's breath even out, her own started to as well.  Just as both were starting to drift off, they were startled by someone who must have seen them from the Hard Deck 
"Hey Phoenix, Ares, you guys been here all day?"  Damn, it was Rooster, of course it was.  Alex opened her eyes and looked at Nat, who had woken up as well.  She turned on her side to look at her easier.
"If we don't say anything, do you think he'll go away?" The other woman's shoulders shook in a quiet chuckle.
"Rooster?  No, he's hardheaded about everything."  She propped herself up with her elbow and looked down at Alex. "When are you gonna let him make a move on you by the way?"  
"Excuse me?"
"I mean it's so obvious that he likes you.  And since I know you so well, I know you like him too."  Alex looked at her with an open mouth.
"I do not."
"You so do."  Phoenix sat up and looked down at her friend, a teasing smirk on her face, "This whole situation reminds me of the year of the quarterback."
"Ugh, do not bring that up.  I crashed and burned so hard."  Alex was laying on her back with her hands covering her face, her cheeks flushed.
"To be fair, he was an absolute dick."  Alex peaked through her fingers, looking at Nat through them.
"Are you saying Rooster's a dick?"  Phoenix slapped her arm and put her hand on the blanket to balance herself.
"No, I am not.  All I'm saying is, I don't want you to regret not doing anything.  Let yourself have something."  Alex just sighed and closed her eyes again.  If Rooster was anything remotely like the high school quarterback, then she'd be in a whole heap of trouble.  However, after she snapped at him, he'd still been nice to her, still interested.  Maybe she could handle one date and her heart would realize that it wouldn't be worth it.  
"I let myself have things."  
"Yeah right.  When's the last time you bought yourself something?"  Alex pursed her lips and thought about it.  "I'm going to stop you there.  If you have to think, then that's not a good sign."  They just stared at each other.  Natasha with a quirked brow and crooked smile, stood up and reached a hand out to her.  Alex took it and almost fell over. They had been sitting for quite some time at this point and her legs felt like Jell-O.  Nat caught her and started giggling.  
"What's so funny girls?"  They both turned towards the man who had called out a few minutes ago.  Alex must have had too many drinks because she couldn't help but stare at him.  He had a Hawaiian shirt on, as usual, and his aviators were sitting on the top of his head.  Rooster had a goofy smile on his face as he looked down at them 
"Nothing that concerns you."  Natasha replied, beginning to pick up their stuff.  
"You wound me, Phoenix." He feigned hurt and put his hand over his heart.  He then turned to Alex. "You been out here all day?"
"A good chunk.  We've been laying around and Penny brings out drinks every once in a while."  Rooster smiled at her.  She had been a bit more welcome to conversation since that night with Natasha and her fellow pilots had been grateful.  It definitely showed when they were in the air doing their training exercises.  Otherwise, her callsign would have been changed to ice queen or Elsa.  
"I feel good.  We've sweated most of it out at this rate."  Natasha piped up.  
"You guys up for some pool then?"  Alex folded up the blanket after shaking the sand out of it.  
"I'm down.  Just need to go to my car and grab a different shirt." Rooster nodded at Nat’s answer and turned back to the other woman.
"What about you?"  She shook her head.
"I think I'm going to pass."  Alex placed the blanket in her bag and gathered her other belongings.
"Aw really?"  He pouted at her.  Fuck her heart hurt, how in the world was she continually saying no to him.
"Yeah."  She reached into her bag trying to find her keys.  Her brow furrowed as she rummaged, confused as to why she couldn't find them.
"Hey, we drove here together, remember?"  Alex snapped her head up at Phoenix and groaned.  She just chuckled and told her, "I don't have to play pool.  I can drive us home."
"No, it's fine if you want to stay.  I can survive for a couple more hours. I'll just lay out here."  Alex walked up to the back deck and plopped herself into a beach chair.
"Do you think you're gonna be okay?" 
"Yeah, I'll just sit out here until you’re ready to go.” Thankfully Natasha didn’t press any further and continued inside, but Rooster did not.  He instead stood next to her.  Alex could tell he wanted to say something to her but was struggling to find the right words.  She didn’t have anything to say to him, without it ending in a confession of some sort.  He eventually sat down in the chair next to her, taking a sip of his beer, probably gaining some more liquid courage.
Thankfully, he didn’t say a word to her, choosing instead to sit in silence with her, both parties staring out to the sea.  It was peaceful.  After a few minutes it dawned on her that he was the one to ask if the two girls wanted to join them inside for pool.
“Aren’t you missing a pool game right now?”  Alex turned to look at him and felt herself flush when she saw he had been looking at her.  
“I’d honestly rather spend time with you.”  She looked to the ground and snorted at his response.
“Over putting Storm’s ego in its place?”  Rooster let out a slight chuckle at that.
“I can do that anytime I want to.  I don’t need a game of pool to do that.”  Alex didn’t know how to add onto that, so she turned her focus out to the water once more.  She noticed conversations followed easily between them; of the few they had shared.  It really would be so easy to let him in.  Since her and Nat talked a couple of nights ago, she felt herself opening up again.  Resulting in Rooster approaching her more frequently between flights.  She hadn’t learned much about him, but her heart was begging to know more.  He spoke up again interrupting her thoughts.
“I’m sorry if I came on too strong.  I also definitely crossed a major line when I put my hands on your shoulders that evening.”  Fuck.  She really hadn’t expected him to address the situation at all.  
“Thank you.”
“What?”
“For apologizing.  I didn’t expect you to.”  Rooster chuckled at her assumption and shook his head.
“My mom taught me how to treat women right.”  Out of the corner of her eye Alex saw him turn to look at her.  “Which is why if you want me to back off I will, or I have.”
She chewed her lip in thought.  He really did come onto her too quickly, but her conversation with Nat got her thinking; maybe she didn’t want him to back off.
“What if I don’t want you to?”  Alex turned and caught his gaze.  His eyes had widened and almost looked like a puppy.  She looked down at her lap and smiled slightly, “I would be interested in learning what your mom taught you.”
“If you let me take you out on one date; one date is all I need to convince you, I promise.”  At this point Rooster had taken one of her hands in both of his, his eyes searching Alex’s face for any sort of discomfort.
“One date.”  His face lit up, lips forming a blinding smile that made one come onto hers too.  
He kissed the back of her hand, “You won’t regret it I can promise you that Alex.”  Her heart fluttered in her chest.  That might’ve been the first time she’s heard her name come out of his mouth.  The warmth on her cheeks might’ve been from the alcohol she’d had today, but as she was sitting in the passenger seat of Natasha’s car; Alex decided that it was because of the man who wormed his way into her heart without even realizing it.  
19 notes · View notes
rosedmuse · 11 months
Text
impromptus; for harusoie 700 days
The tension veiling upon the crowd around us is somehow intoxicating, every present soul curious as to how this love story's meant to end. Will it be a happily ever after? Or does an epic tragedy await those who step beyond boundaries? They ought to pay their closest attention, if they want to find out.
Tumblr media
Today, I finally come home. Finally, I tell myself. Finally free from the many, grueling hours of work and responsibilities and just facing reality head on. To say I feel relieved now, sounds more of an understatement. I can't believe half the year flew by just like that. "Oh, where have you gone, my love?" But before anything else, a street act. I find myself captivated by one. Despite my initial plan of heading straight home to rest and ultimately surprise a certain somebody, that certain somebody in question is instead out here, basking underneath broad daylight, reciting what seemed like a poem created from the very depths his heart. I shake my head, seemingly in response. A voice so sweet yet so filled with patience and longing that all those who hear his plea are bound to succumb to such an honest affection, one way or another. I'm right here, I mentally say; tempted to yell my heart out because of how much I miss everything about him. But I must exercise restrain. There is absolutely no way I'm interrupting him from his moment with, well, his first love. Haruto Asuka's stunning, utterly fabulous as always, rocking any role he so chooses at any time of the day with the raw skills he acquired after overcoming countless breakdowns and self doubts all throughout his acting career. That's my actor right there! Blended subtly within the sea of fan girls and boys and everything in between and not surrounding him, he hasn't noticed my presence. I didn't tell him today's my arrival day back home to him as part of a little surprise. I wonder what he's going to say once he does, or what I'm supposed to do to make him see me. "My heart breaks when you go." Haruto gestures to his chest, his eyes carefully scanning the audience scattered before him, perhaps seeking for a particular person in mind. "My soul aches from being apart, my mind yearns of no other than your name." He learned how to channel his personal sentiments entirely into own his acting without feeling negative anymore, after Twin Kingdoms. You've grown so beautiful, Gen-chan. As I continue watching him throw out more and more romantic lines alongside integrating the few mimes I taught him a while back, I realize once again just how much I'm too in love with this person. His passion is one thing; his personality is another. So are his looks, but even that is a huge bonus. His growth is just one of the many aspects the people around him look up to the most. I say this all the time, I know, but it's the kind of truth I'll never get tired of repeating over and over again. I've quite enjoyed being a spectator and admirer by the sidelines, a rare opportunity I'm willing to grab from time to time, when a new character abruptly enters the scene from out of nowhere. "Behold!" It's Citronia. She certainly just stepped in as if she had grown sick of standing by for her cue, backstage (wherever that is). "Who... Who?" Haruto's reaction accurately captures and embodies everyone else's shock and confusion. "Oh, me? Your fairy godmother!" Citron gracefully waves an invisible wand, taking his wrists and twirls him around in tiny circles. "Now, what you desire, follow me~" Using her hands to gracefully guide his eyes toward my direction, Haruto freezes the moment our gazes lock physically for the first time in many, many months. "No protein~," Citron whispers quietly, her voice ever as calming as a mother's lullaby, before vanishing into the crowd in an eye's blink. As much as any of us silently wish to first comprehend what had just transpired in a mere matter of seconds, all I could think of was how easily Citronia made today even more special for me, at the very least. Speechless is what I am, yes, but truly I love her deeply, and all that she does for meーfor the people she loves ーeven in the simplest of ways, will always be cherished and held dear. Thank you, Your Majesty. Cheeks flushing, eyes tearing up, hearts beating together as one rhythm; I'm sure Haruto thinks the same. I promise we'll treat her out someday, soon. Eventually realizing he still has a performance he needs to conclude, and perhaps, not wanting Her Majesty's efforts be disregarded in vain, Haruto wastes not a moment in rushing towards me, his round eyes growing as round as they can be in a messy mix of shock, anticipation, and excitement. "My... my love," he stammers, his voice faltering so softly, it's almost impossible to figure out the line between all this still being an act or his truest emotions already seeping out, "you, being here, does that mean..." He doesn't hesitate getting down on one knee and offering his hand; the hopeful glint in his face providing a hopeful acceptance of his hopeful intentions. The tension veiling upon the crowd around us is somehow intoxicating, every present soul curious as to how this love story's meant to end. Will it be a happily ever after? Or does an epic tragedy await those who step beyond boundaries? They ought to pay their closest attention, if they want to find out. "I'm never letting you go anymore," Haruto declares, "so from the bottom of my heart, please stay... if you'll have me." But, of course, we aren't going down without a fight. Taking a step forward and swinging my other leg behind me in a tendu, raising my arms into a port de bras, I pretend to give him the answer he so seeks. Just as we practiced, I internally command, keeping my eyes glued onto his, a hint of mischief lingering within them, Swan lake Act III. The Black swan Adage Pas de deux. Haruto breaks into a smile; a smile that many would assume is that of delight, a smile that only a select few would recognize as if to say, I know  what to do, silly. Taking my fingers gently in his, Haruto leans forward to try planting a kiss upon the back of my palm. But just as his lips were about to brush my skin, perfectly in sync with the script, I quickly whip my hand away from him in a playful tease. A series of faint gasps are heard. Now it's my turn to smirk at you, silly. I walk a few steps away from him, ending with a croisé. While I have my back towards him, I allow him a small angle to see the triumphant grin I cannot, try as I might, remove from my face, as I look at him from the side of my head. Mission accomplished. The crowd erupts into a chorus of cheers and multiple rounds of applauses, all the while requesting for some kind of an encore? Is that even possible? Haruto dusts himself a bit once he stands, before we finally, officially, personally meet with a tight hug. Now this is what I call a refreshing way to start the reunion. "Nice impromptu you've done there," Haruto praises into my ear. "More like, an imprompt-two?" I randomly kid. "Or would it actually be an imprompt-three? Considering there were three of us who did one..." He lets out a satisfied laugh before giving our audience the final curtsy they deserve, hand in hand. Forgetting not to highlight as well the significance of our special guestーmore commonly known as Haruto's fairy godmother from now onーand promoting both theater troupes for everyone's never-ending support essential to keeping the future of theater and the arts in general, alive. The sun then shining brighter and warmer than ever, high above the skies.
1 note · View note