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watatsumiis · 1 year

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[🍓 anon]

first of all thank you so much for the in depth reply!! after reading your elaboration i actually think we're at least on very similar pages about her character, just approaching it from different directions! if you would be so gracious as to entertain a (hopefully brief edit: it was not brief) blorbo ramble about why i simultaneously near-completely agree with you and also love her so much:

so, in response to the following, bc this is something i agree pretty strongly with:

I think some of the ways this game handles really heavy topics seems to be almost... dismissive, at times. I understand that it's a game that's supposed to be marketed towards a broad audience and there are some concessions that need to be made to keep a smooth gameplay experience. This isn't a knock at the writers at all, just an observation. These huge events seem to happen in canon story and they seem to be dropped soon after apart from a few hints and side mentions, and I wish it was explored more?

basically, just... yeah. this whole paragraph. i have a friend that really hated the inazuma arc because of generational trauma they have with dictatorships and revolution, and how cheaply and shallowly Genshin seemed to present and then drop it, almost as if its goal was just to present opportunities to sell watered down "revolution flavored" characters (sorry if that sounds harsh, i don't mean to say it's bad or wrong, it's mostly just how the writing hit me-- the characters are really rich and full of personality as always, but it feels like the consequences of the labels they were assigned were...glossed over/forgotten about at best, and purposefully ignored and "woobified" at worst).

like the writers repeatedly bring up really really serious consequences, like how taking someone's vision seems to have extremely serious impacts on their mental health, almost akin to taking their entire motivation for life or a part of their soul (a different friend called it "inventing new war crimes"). or like how the whole of watatsumi island is unable to grow food or trade, so for them this war is a matter of survival and for Inazuma City it's a matter of....what, pride? there's no real driving force and there's a huuuuge disconnect between E!'s actual aspirations and what she's actually doing to her people because of it.

(there are other issues i have with the genshin worldbuilding in general too like.... i mean obviously there's a lot to complain about in sumeru, but also the quest with Dainsleif in the chasm was really upsetting for multiple of my friends as well)

so i guess my love for E! as a blorbo in spite of all this comes down to three main points:

1) i am immune to bad worldbuilding. i can see it just enough to acknowledge and deinternalize, but i mostly focus on smashing interpersonal relationships, feelings, personalities, and other character traits like aspirations and needs.

2) E! has a personality that i relate to a lot, and crucially, i don't see her as like, "just some sweet girl that missed her sister and didn't know what she was doing uwu"; my love for her is specifically the love that i dole out to my reformed villain blorbos. i love her as someone who fucked up HUGE time while she was in a bad place, got literally slapped/kicked/sworded back into facing reality, SAW what she'd done and went oh. shit. no more. no more of this. and she clearly doesn't quite get what she did wrong at first, beyond "people are telling me that my people are miserable-- is this truly an eternity worth preserving? i will consider and evaluate this feedback strategically and autistically and see if i can do better" and then like. she stews on it for a while, realizes she was wrong, and ends up literally in a battle to the death with a manifestation of her former ideals because she wants to do good and she wants to change and do something for her people for once. (the for once is the important part because she did not do anything good before that.) and it's not a lot and it can't ever possibly make up for the horrors she inflicted on her people up until now, but it means a lot to me personally to see someone do horrific things and then go "you know what this sucks. im in control of my own life and im going to choose kindness from here on out. it won't fix anything. but i can at least stop future suffering"

(i think it would really be fantastic if the canon gave us some more npcs that hate her or like otherwise blame her for ANYTHING because it seems like everyone in inazuma still blindly loves her?? not a huge fan of that, but it's pretty easy to picture a fanon where that's true)

... and finally 3) is basically just that I'm biased. she's got my mental illnesses so i went from drawing her with ... a very mean caption, at the start of the questline before I'd met her, to the same drawing with the caption scratched out, saying instead "nevermind i need her to be in the washer high spin for 100 hrs" to just loving her fully after her second quest because in my fanon projection version of her, the drive to change and understand her people better is the repentance and regret for me, because that's the most constructive form that regret can take-- though i would still have liked, y'know, a formal apology or something, but. yeah that's what fanon is for

(also, about her voicelines, some of them are not actually her but the Raiden Shogun, I'm not sure which of those her voiceline about Kokomi is (it very well may have been hers), so that's also very valid, my response to that is. basically just fanon again because it feels to me like the kind of thing that she'd change her mind about after her second story quest)

ok sorry for the huge wall of text but thank you for indulging my blorbo rant!!! i don't think anything in here is too harsh but if it is feel free to call me out on that, cause i tend to get a little Passionate about my character essays but i don't mean it in like, an "any opinion but this one sucks" way or anything!!

This has been sitting in my inbox for a hot minute awaiting a response that I just don't really have the spoons to give, but I really really enjoyed reading your take on this character and all the reasons why you like her, and I felt like it deserved to see the light of day because it's so well thought out and interesting!

#asks #general barks #though an interesting thing to note is that characters can go on just fine without their visions!#theres a character who hangs out in komore teahouse and talks about how he lost his vision in a duel with ayato #but was like. fine with it ? i cant recall the details but yeah it was Interesting #but i very agree with you on how the writers handled the whole arc #the sheer amount of depth really makes me wonder that if its a case of like #the writers want to follow up but the higher ups dont want anything that could impact gameplay too much #🍓 anon #but yeah i am holding you i am squishing your cheeks thank you for taking the time to talk to me about it all #being able to have like. civil conversations like this makes me really happy because i genuinely do like hearing about other peoples #opinions and experiences and the like!!

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wayward-wren · 2 years

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there is an exceedingly large difference between telling someone not to do something that will destroy their body and telling them not to do something that, in the telling, will destroy their soul. and you're right. but everything you're talking about is in the old testament, which as i'm sure you're aware is the old way of living. the only thing in your new testament that proclaims affirmation of your homophobic beliefs is that mistranslation. so again i ask: why do you choose to hate?

You're misunderstanding what the Bible is. It isn't something to take pieces of and pick and choose. The Bible is one whole story. Yes, there are some of the laws of the Old Testament that we don't have to follow anymore - but they still tell us something about God's character and are given to us for a reason.

The Old Testament is not separate from the New. The Old Testament helps us to see the full picture of God's rescue story. Woven throughout the Old Testament are examples of God's plan for marriage and sexual relationships - and I can't see anything that contradicts this in the New Testament. In fact, I see things that support it. The Ephesians passages on husbands and wives. The various points in other Epistles that mention how the church is the Bride of Christ. Romans 1 explaining how God gave people over to their sinful desires and sexual sins.

The Bible is not to be taken in pieces. It's to be read in context to itself, to be understood as one story that shapes the world and contains truth.

And as to your first point - I will be far more vocal about something that will destroy someone's soul than someone's body. Better to enter the kingdom of heaven with no hand than to be thrown into the depths of hell with both. The afterlife is forever - some pain in this world will be worth it. It would be more hateful to send someone to hell with a wave and a smile than to warn them about the path they're on.

And to clarify - people don't go to hell because they're gay. People go to hell because they rebel and refuse to bend the knee to the God who created them and who loves them. God is a loving God but He is just and cannot let sin go unpunished. Unless our sins are covered by the sacrifice of Jesus, we are all headed to hell, gay, straight or otherwise.

#wren rambles #anon #i do thank you anon for being civil about this #i know it can raise tempers and I appreciate that you're engaging in this conversation calmly

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forest-is-sleepy · 9 months

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regarding “eyeliner strong enough to kill a man:”

not every choice made by a woman is a good or feminist choice. that’s not what feminism is. women having agency doesn’t mean that they will choose to actually separate from patriarchal conditioning.

just because a woman has the freedom to make a choice doesn’t mean feminists can’t critique that choice. being free from critique isn’t feminism either.

buying and wearing makeup puts money in men’s pockets and furthers the idea that a woman’s bare face is somehow offensive or unclean enough that it should be covered with a thin layer of paint at all times. even applying makeup in a fun and quirky hashtag leftist communist way doesn’t mean you aren’t reinforcing patriarchy.

if you choose spend money to decorate your face with paint like a little doll to be put up on a shelf, feminists can critique that. and will.

that’s not controlling your body or your choices. that’s having a voice and using it.

I understand that, and i admittedly don't wear makeup much. I never have the energy to do it myself.

And i understand everything i do can and will be critiqued, i do not want to live in a world where that is not possible. Not questioning or critiquing stuff is a recipe for disaster.

However, we can say money goes into mens pockets for *any* product we purchase, and even that may not be completely true. There is something called women owned businesses and small businesses. This is even true for makeup.

Now, as for myself, i really can't recall the last time i even bought makeup. Most of the makeup i use is probably expired ngl. i only use it for special occasions, and if i ever manage to get in a play, i plan on using it as stage makeup. If i ever casually wear makeup, it's usually outrageous or something out of a costume (i once went to classes with a giant painted crack on my face made with my makeup) i never do that 'natural' makeup people talk about so much these days.

Though, while i understand that this was not your argument, my reply to that eyeliner post was more a general comment on the notes as a whole. A large number of them said we should not wear makeup at all, and the general vibe i got from a lot of them was that they believed any of us who did were also the problem and should be treated as such.

But yeah, the patriarchy sucks. It hurts both men and women, and we probably shouldn't be spending time arguing over the ethics of if we should wear makeup or where we should buy it when there are certainly more serious issues we should be tackling.

#forest talks #forest asks #makeup discourse #i would like to stop talking about this i genuinely dont care this much makeup is not this serious #any more asks im probably not answering.#feminism #thank you for being civil tho anon

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lanadelnegan · 9 months

Text

My Girl

S7!Negan x Reader

Requested from anon: hey! loving the blog and every story you post! i was wondering if you’d do a story of a reader’s first time being with S7 Negan who is an asshole at first but then goes soft because he accidentally made her cry??

OOOH I'm gonna have some FUN with this one. And thank you so much <3.

Summary: Rick's oldest daughter, y/n, loses her virginity to Negan.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, virgin first time, vaginal sex, daddy-kink, age-gap (reader is 18, negan is 40), Rick walks in on Negan eating you out.. (twice), degrading language, mushy romantic Negan, Negan fucks you in nothing but his leather jacket

A/N: This is my favorite fic I have written by far and I hope you love it as much as I do cuz I am obsessed.

"Carl, take your sisters upstairs and don't come down until I say it's safe." I lift Judith out of her high chair and follow Carl up the stairs.

Our dad has always treated us like Carl's the older one, even though he's two years younger than me, but I don't mind. If anything, it takes some of the pressure off of being big sis all the time.

I hear Negan's voice booming in the distance as my dad opens the door to head back outside. This has become part of our weekly routine at this point. Negan and his men went from monthly visits to weekly visits over the past couple months, but I don't mind that either.

The more I get to see him, the merrier.

I move the bedroom curtains slightly, peeking through my window until my eyes find Negan standing in the street in front of our house. I'm able to make out what they're saying if I listen closely enough.

"Rickyyy, I missed ya. Where's that sweet daughter of yours hiding? .....The older one of course." I can't stop the grin that appears on my face when he asks about me.

"This isn't about her. Get what you need, and leave." My dad stands firmly planted with his hands on his hips and my eyes roll at his attitude. Maybe if my dad would just be civil with Negan all of this could stop. I revert my gaze back to Negan.

"Now, Prick, you know I can't leave without seeing my girl."

His girl... The butterflies in my stomach flutter at the sound of that.

"Why are you so obsessed with him?" Carl asks rudely from across the room while holding Judith and bouncing her so she doesn't cry.

I quickly glare at Carl before turning my gaze back towards the window. When I look back down, Negan is looking up at me, a knowing smirk playing at his lips. I can't look away, and he lets his gaze linger a little too long as well, prompting my dad to look at my window. I quickly drop the curtain and back away.

"Take Judith to her room and put her down for her nap." I instruct Carl. He stares at me suspiciously. "Go! What did I just say?" I snap impatiently. He shakes his head but ultimately leaves.

"You're always so weird when he comes around." He says under his breath. I close my door behind them and go back to the window, peeking again, but this time everyone's gone. I rush to go see what's going on, but as soon as I swing my door open and run out, I crash into a tall, solid figure. My eyes widen as I look up at the man in the leather jacket.

"Hey, doll. Miss me?"

"Uh - I - where's my dad?" I stutter nervously, peaking around him.

"Busy getting supplies for me. He'll be busy for the next hour, so I thought I'd come keep you company."

Negan's been visiting Alexandria for months now, and each time he comes, our talks get longer and flirtier. Well, he flirts with me and I pretend to be annoyed, mostly so others don't think I like him. If they only knew how much I think about his beard between my legs.

There's something about him that intrigues me.. fascinates me even. I'm ashamed to admit I've even touched myself a couple times - okay, a lot of times - to the thought of him.

When I don't respond, he backs us into my bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

He slides his shoes and jacket off, sitting on my bed and leaning back with his feet propped up. I blush at the sight of him in my bed and restrain myself from ripping my clothes off here and now. A chill runs through my body, making me noticeably shake but I try to play it off. He probably things I'm scared, when in reality I just want him.

"Relax, I'd never hurt you darlin'. Unless you want me to." He winks as he leans back against the headboard getting more comfortable.

"I know." And I do... for some reason, I know he wouldn't hurt me.

He bites his bottom lip playfully and raises his eyebrows while patting the bed next to him.

I nervously walk over and sit down before leaning back, mimicking his position. My bed is a twin, so it doesn't allow much room to ourselves. My shoulder is pressed against his and the simple act has my body on fire already. I glance over and let my eyes roam up his white t-shirt to his handsome face. He watches me with amusement while his leg presses against mine teasingly.

"Sweetheart, I've been around the block long enough to know when a girl wants my dick. And I can practically hear that pussy fucking purring every time I come near you." He grins at me like he knows all my secrets.

My face burns with embarrassment at his words.

"I bet I could make you blush even harder than that, doll." His grin stretches wider but I stay silent, letting him do the talking.

"Of course.. I wouldn't do anything you're not comfortable wi-"

Before he can finish, I press my lips to his hard and climb on top of him. His mouth parts, letting my tongue in and his subtle moan makes my pussy flutter. He tastes like whiskey and smells like leather and I feel high off the taste of him as we kiss passionately. I grind my hips desperately into him and feel his bulge grow underneath me.

"Negan... I need you."

"I know baby." He breathes out.

My hands fumble with his belt and pants until I get them undone. He watches me as I pull out his cock and my pussy is already sore from just looking at it. No way it's gonna fit.

"How do you want it, baby? You gonna be a big girl and ride daddy?" His hands squeeze my ass underneath my dress and he practically growls when he realizes I'm not wearing panties.

"It's like you knew I was coming. Such a bad little girl." His fingers tease my opening and I'm embarrassed that I'm already pathetically soaked for him.

"All for me?" He slides a finger through my slit and brings it up to his mouth for a taste. "So fucking sweet."

I slide myself against his cock that's now slippery with my wetness and wonder how I'm gonna fit that thing inside me.

The big dick energy definitely checks out.

I hover above him naively, thinking I can actually take him. The tip just barely pushes through my opening and I moan at the sudden pressure. His hands grip my ass, guiding me down over him.

"Come on baby, that's it." He praises me as I keep sliding down. I stop when I can't take anymore, realizing I have at least four more inches to go.

"Oh, I know my little slut can take more than that."

I shake my head. "Negan, I don't think I -"

"You can, and you will, doll. I didn't come all the way here for you to only take half of my dick."

Tears fill my eyes as I try to sit all the way on him, wanting to make him proud. I make it another inch before the pain is too much. Not only with how deep he is, but he's so wide I think he may actually be ripping me apart.

"Deeper, y/n." He demands.

When I try again and fail, I quickly climb off of him frustrated. "I can't Negan, I'm trying!" He sits up in the bed, his feet on the floor now.

"Bend over."

"W-what?"

"Do not make me ask again." His jaw clenches as he stares at me seriously.

I lay myself over him, my ass facing upwards on his lap.

"You're going to take all of me, baby. If my wives at home can take me, I expect nothing less from you."

He doesn't even give me a warning before bringing his hand down painfully on my ass making me yelp. He chuckles darkly before smacking me again. He rubs the sensitive spot before teasing both of my holes.. One with his thumb and the other with his middle finger.

"What would daddy say if he could see you right now? Bent over my fucking lap and dripping for me like a little whore..." He pushes his thumb and finger deep inside each of my openings and I bite my lip hard at the pain.

I know he's trying to be all dominant right now.. I'm not oblivious to how rough sex works, but my eyes still sting with tears at his crude words. I shouldn't have built my hopes up that Negan could actually care and be gentle with me.

I sniffle as the tears fall, trying to wipe the snot dripping from my nose.

He quickly pulls me up and his eyes are filled with concern.

"Baby? Hey, look at me." He cups my face gently as I sit on the bed next to him.

"I - I liked you." I choke out. "I was the only one here who actually cared about you and saw you as a person.. and you.. you just see me as a stupid object you can shove your dick in.... You just ruined my first experience with a man. I hope you're happy." I sob while looks like someone just punched him in the gut.

"Fuck, sweetheart." He presses his forehead to mine, looking down with regret. "I didn't know you were all mushy about me and shit.. Truth is?" He tilts my chin to look at him. "I was being so harsh with you cause I didn't want to admit my own feelings. I didn't think you'd ever want an asshole like me, so I didn't want to go catching feelings for someone who didn't want me back. But baby? I can't get you outta my fucking head... Why do you think I started visiting every week?"

My teary eyes look up at him and he looks genuine. I want to trust him so badly, but my heart and head are saying two different things.

"Fuck, y/n. I know you don't believe me. Let me prove it to you. What can I do? Just say the fucking word."

"Stop taking our stuff... Leave our people alone..."

He chuckles lightly, shaking his head like he can't believe what he's about to agree to. "Does that include you?"

I try to hide my grin as I wipe my tears with the back of my hand. "....No."

"Then it's a deal, baby."

"That's it? Just like that?" I look at him confused.

He shrugs. "Guess you've got me wrapped around your finger already, darlin...And now that I know you've never been with a man, I'm taking my fucking time with you." He lays me down on the bed while kissing and climbing over me.

"What about my dad? He'll be back soon."

"Simon's keeping watch, doll."

His lips travel to my neck. "....What about your other wives? You're just gonna fuck me and go back to them?"

He laughs against my neck. "Sweetheart.. I kicked every one of them to the curb the day I layed eyes on you."

My mouth drops open but he cuts me off by pulling my dress down over my chest and taking a nipple into his mouth. I moan and arch myself into him. After a few moments of sucking each one, he slides down further, lifting my dress to my waist and settling his head between my legs. I watch him in awe as he takes his time, kissing my inner thighs.

"Has anyone ever eaten you, baby?"

I shake my head no as I lean up on my elbows to watch him.

"Good." He spreads my pussy lips apart with his fingers and I blush at him staring at it. "Such a pretty pussy. Fuck." He says before locking eyes with me and pressing a kiss to my clit gently. I moan from the contact and arch myself into him, silently begging for more.

He dips his tongue in me and curls it up, gathering my juices. His eyes roll to the back of his head and he groans and licks all the way up to my clit before sucking on it softly. My mouth drops open and my hips try to jerk away, being overwhelmed by sensitivity.

He smiles against me. "Not going anywhere until you cum all over my face, doll." He wraps his arms up around my thighs, pressing my stomach down with his hands.

My breathing matches the speed of his licking and sucking and I feel the pressure building up inside me.

"Fuck, Negan!" My eyes are clenched shut but snap open when my door suddenly flies open.

"Shit! Dad!" I reach to throw my blanket over me, but defeatedly realize it's on the floor. My eyes widen in horror at my father standing in the doorway, looking like he just saw a ghost. A ghost that's eating his daughter's pussy. I'm unable to close my legs because Negan is still holding me down with his hands.

"God fucking dammit, Rick. We were just ge-"

"Negan!" I cut him off, my cheeks turning bright red with embarrassment.

He kisses my pussy one more time and my eyes widen, not believing he just did that in front of my father. He finally leans up, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb and smirking at my dad like he's proud of himself.

I quickly get up and fix my dress.

"Dad, look, I -" I look up, stopping at the sight of Carl pointing a gun directly at Negan's head.

Negan tucks himself back into his jeans, buckling his belt and ignoring Carl.

"Carl.." I slowly step in front of Negan. "Put the gun down."

"You - you wanted this? Him?" My dad asks horrified. "He's done horrible things, y/n."

"And you haven't?!" I yell at my dad. "I watched you rip a man's neck open with your goddamn teeth. If he's a monster.. then so are you."

Negan steps beside me and laces his fingers through mine before kissing the side of my head.

"I love him, dad." I look up at Negan and elbow him roughly when I see a teasing smirk on his face.

"And you think he loves you? You can't be that stupid." My dad says, putting emphasis on the last word.

Negan chuckles and finally cuts in. "First of all, Dick, do not call my woman stupid. Secondly.." His faces grows serious. "We won't be taking anymore of your things. No more visits. Other than me paying this one a visit of course." Negan winks and puts his his arm around me protectively. "That is.. until she moves in with me." Our eyes all widen at the same time.

"You want me to live with you?" I turn to Negan.

"I mean, you did just confess your love for me, doll. Soo, yeah, that's the plan." He kisses my forehead.

"Y/n, we'll talk about this later. Negan, you need to leave. Now." My dad demands, his jaw ticking with anger.

Negan glares at my dad for a moment before turning to me, lifting my chin to kiss him slowly and passionately. Before he lets go, he whispers in my ear. "Meet me right outside the walls when it gets dark. I am nowhere near done with you, baby."

My heart flutters at the thought of us sneaking out together.

Negan walks towards the door before leaning close to my dad's ear. "I get to be her first, Rick. How fucking sweet is that." I struggle to make out his words but don't miss the chuckle at the end. He pats Carl's shoulder on his way out. "See ya 'round, bro."

"Love you, sweetheart!" He calls out to me as my dad and brother follow behind him, making sure he leaves.

I shut my door and smile giddily, running to the window and peeking out. Negan is already looking up at the window when I look at him. He smirks and winks at me before heading off to the gates.

A few hours later:

The sun just went down and my palms are starting to sweat as I pace back and forth on the outskirts of the gates. A million thoughts race through my head.

What if he doesn't come..

What if it's a trap..

What if he lied about everything he said..

Oh my god.. He's gonna kidnap and torture me..

Shut up. He wouldn't do that.

This is a bad idea. What am I doing.

Just as I turn to run back inside the walls, I see him appear from the shadows, wearing his signature leather jacket with a black t-shirt underneath.

"Were you about to ditch me, y/n?" He asks playfully as he pulls my wrist towards him and crashes his lips into mine. When the kiss deepens, he bends a little, pulling me up by the back of my thighs and wrapping my legs around his waist. We make out like horny teenagers while my fingers run through his slick black hair.

"You ready to officially be mine, doll?"

I nod without hesitation. "Yes. I'm already yours, Negan. I don't care what anyone thinks about us."

He kisses me again, setting me back down on the ground. "Lead the way, baby." He nods towards the side gates.

"You want to go back to my house? What if someone sees you?!"

"Kinda hope they do.. I like the thought of everyone knowing who you belong to." He smirks and it makes me knees weak.

"Okay.. come on." I pull his hand as I guide him back to my house. We sneak through the back sliding doors as carefully as possible before tiptoeing up the stairs.

He lightly smacks my ass as we're going up and I turn to shush him, tripping over my own feet in the process. He catches me before I make a loud thud on the stairs and his body is leaned over mine as we try not to laugh.

My body shakes as I laugh silently and bring my hand over my mouth quickly to stop any sound that comes out. His eyebrows raise at me with warning as if I better not make a noise.

"Okay, okay. Shushhh." I whisper before beginning our climb up the stairs again. My dad's room is at the end of the hall and mine is adjacent next to his. We try not to let the floors creak as we get closer to my room. We slip inside and I ease the door shut gently. When it finally clicks shut. I let go of a deep breath and look up at Negan. As soon as our eyes lock, we laugh like idiots, but quiet idiots.

He walks towards me. "Goddamn it, I fucking love you." He says as he lifts me back into his arms kissing me.

"You know.. earlier outside.." I breathe out between our kisses. "I thought.. that maybe you were gonna kidnap and torture me."

He smiles against my mouth as our lips lazily fight each other. "...What if I am?"

I stop kissing him to look at him. When I do, his look turns serious and it scares me for a moment. "I fully plan on making you mine and torturing you with this dick forever, doll."

I grin and roll my eyes as he continues holding me in his arms. "I guess there are worse ways to get tortured."

"Wait until I'm all the way inside you." His eyebrows raise teasingly.

I press my forehead to his and bring my hands to cup his face, kissing him again. I can't take my lips off of him. "Well what are you waiting for?"

That's all he needs to hear before he's walking me towards the bed and laying me down gently. He stands back up, removing his jacket and shirt.

I watch him closely, admiring the flex of his biceps when he moves. "Put the jacket back on. No shirt."

He laughs until he sees that I'm serious.

"Yes ma'am." He says with his little country accent. It's not always noticeable, but when it is.. it's so fucking adorable.

Once he's back in the jacket and bare chested, he stops for a moment before removing his pants. "Can I take these off, at least?"

"No, I want to."

He grin stretches as he walks towards the bed, keeping his hands by his sides. "All yours, baby."

I sit up in the bed in front of him and undo his button and zipper. I shuffle his pants down just a little before pulling his hardening cock out of his boxers. It turns to a steel rod in my hand and I don't care that I'm full on staring at it, assessing each vein and how it turns an ombre shade of pink towards the tip.

"I hope you like what you see, baby. Cause it's the only dick you're gonna be seeing for the rest of your life."

"I'm perfectly happy with that." I look up at him before kissing the tip of him, just like he did to my clit earlier. He watches me proudly, letting his fingers run through my hair lovingly.

I lick my lips before struggling to fit my mouth around him. He chuckles down at me.

“If you can’t fit me in that cunt, what makes you think you can take it down your throat, baby?”

I grin around him and I slide my mouth deeper and deeper. Surprisingly I don’t gag and I think it surprises him too.

Guess I don’t have a gag reflex. That’s good to know.

“Holyyy shit, doll. Look. At. You.” His voice is so deep it vibrates to my pussy. The tip hits the very back on my throat and even further until my eyes water.

I try to jerk my head back, but Negan pushes my head down on him again, my nose pressed into his pubic hair. He waits a few seconds until I feel like I’m going to pass out from lack of oxygen before pulling my head back. I gasp for air and he pulls me all the way off of him while kicking his pants and boxers off.

"Trying to make me blow my load before we even get to the good part, darlin'? He climbs over me in the bed, kissing me softly.

My hands slip underneath his jacket and rub his back, scratching at it gently.

"I am gonna make you feel So fucking good." He says before kissing my neck. "You want me to be gentle with you baby?" His voice right in my ear makes me shiver.

I nod and he hovers his face above mine so we’re staring into each other eyes.

“You ready, baby?” He whispers and I nod again.

He leans up on his knees between me and lines himself up with my entrance before pushing the tip through. “Tell me if you need me to stop.”

He slowly slides in me further and further as he holds my legs open.

“Goddamn this pussy is so fucking Tight.” He pulls back a little before pushing in deeper and my mouth gapes open slightly.

He chuckles and stares down at me through heavy eyelids. "I'm not even halfway yet, sweetheart. You want more?"

I nod desperately as my eyes fill with tears at the overwhelming sensation of him so deep inside me.

"Take it then, doll. Grind on me and make yourself feel good." He stops moving completely while still on his knees between my legs.

My cheeks blush at his request and he smirks down at me, sliding his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, refusing to move or touch me.

I lean up on my elbows while he's still inside me and push my body further into him, taking every inch I possibly can. I grind myself against him until I find just the right spot for the tip of his cock to press into and drop my head back at how good it feels, not caring about the desperate sounds I let out.

"Oh my god, Negan.. fuck." My face reddens at the intense pleasure as I continue using his cock to pleasure myself.

"Fuck, baby. Now THIS? Is a Fucking sight.. Watching you get off on my cock like a desperate little whore."

"Touch me, Negan. Please."

"Please what?"

"Please Negan."

He removes his hands from his jacket to lean over me, holding himself above me with one hand on the bed while bringing the other to lightly grip my throat.

His dark hazel eyes dart back and forth between mine as he squeezes his fingers gently around my neck. My face reddens even more at the sudden loss of air.

"Try again, doll."

"Please... daddy." I choke out and he quickly releases my throat.

"Good girl." He kisses my lips softly before thrusting his hips hard, completely filling me until his balls are flush against me.

I scream out and his hand immediately covers my mouth while his head dips to the side of mine and his deep voice fills my ear once again.

"Sshhh, baby. I know. I know." He pulls out almost completely before sliding in again, this time softer but just as deep.

My eyes fill with tears at the pain but I don't want him to stop. My fingers grip the bottom of his jacket as he continues fucking me hard and at a steady pace. The headboard begins to lightly bump the wall above me and my eyes widen with panic.

"Negan, the bed. My dad's room is right on the other side."

He chuckles lightly in my ear but doesn't speak. Instead, he pounds into me even harder and faster with his head is buried into my neck.

"Negan!" I whisper yell at him but it feels too good to make him stop. The closer my orgasm gets, the less I care about my dad hearing us.

After a few more thrusts, he slows down and suddenly flips us over with his dick still inside me until I'm laying over him.

"Negan, my dad's gonna come in here! We have to be quie-"

Before I finish, he lifts his knees up and rams his cock into me hard. It feels even deeper from this angle and hits a spot that makes me see stars.

"Come here, baby." He maneuvers me until my arms are wrapped around him and my head is nestled into his neck. He smells like musky cologne and sweat and I can't help but lick him. Our mouths are next to each others ears, breathing and moaning heavily as he begins to thrust up into me faster than ever. The headboard slams into the wall with force but I don't even care.

This feeling is unlike anything I've ever felt or knew was possible, so the last thing I'm gonna do is tell him to stop.

"Negan.." I cry out. "Faster."

He obeys and wraps his arms around me tighter, fucking me at an animalistic pace. I cum so hard and fast I don't even have time to announce it. My pussy clenches and I feel myself suddenly leak around him, soaking his dick and probably even the bed below us.

"Goddamn. That's my good fucking girl... You gonna let daddy cum in this pussy, baby?"

"Yes! Please." I whine.

He growls in my ear and holds himself deep and still inside me as his dick pulses over and over.

I try to slide off of him when he's finished, but he holds me tight, not letting me leave.

"Negan, you need to leave before my dad-"

"He's not here, sweetheart."

"What?!" I snap my eyes to his.

"Relax, baby. He's fine. But I did warn him that if he didn't want to hear his baby girl screaming "daddy" all night.. then he should take your siblings and go stay the night with Daryl." He grins up at me and my brows come together with confusion.

"Wait you.. you told him about our plan?"

"Of course baby. Had to be respectful and ask for your old man's blessing."

"And.. and he gave it to you?!"

Negan laughs and reaches up to tuck my hair behind my ear. "Absolutely not. But respectfully, I told him he didn't have a choice."

The next morning:

My vagina is screaming at me for allowing it to be destroyed last night. I can't count on one hand how many times Negan made me cum. I open my eyes to the sun shining through my window and immediately notice Negan is gone. I shoot up and look around, seeing that his clothes are also gone.

What if he just.. got what he wanted and left..

I throw the covers off of me and get up, grabbing my sundress of the floor and throwing it on before making my way through the house.

"Carl?!.... Dad?!" I yell as I descend quickly down the stairs. I stop at the bottom to find Negan stirring a pot of something on the stove.

"There she is! Mornin' sunshine." I walk over to Negan to see what he's cooking and he holds a spoon up to my mouth, letting me taste the deliciousness. This man can fuck and cook... what a god.

"Was wonderin when you were gonna wake the hell up. It's already lunch time, baby." He presses his lips to mine and I notice his freshly shaven face. I've never seen him like his and he looks so incredibly handsome.

He lifts me up and sets me on the kitchen counter while standing between my legs.

"Mmm, promise me you'll wear little sundresses with no panties underneath for the rest of our lives, doll." He says as he kisses me sweetly. I giggle and wrap my arms around him, kissing his neck.

"You hungry baby?" He asks and I nod sleepily.

"Me too." He slowly gets down on his knees in front of me, draping my legs over his shoulders.

He softly licks me with his tongue, moaning from the taste before burying his face further into me until I feel his tongue push past my hole. His shaven face feels soft and much more gentle than his beard.

My fingers run through his black hair, tugging on it gently as my head falls back.

"Mmm, daddy." I moan and my eyes snap open, hearing movement at the front door. I quickly jerk Negan up while pulling my dress down and sliding off the counter, seeing my dad, Carl, and Daryl standing in the doorway. Carl quickly covers Judith's eyes while he holds her and Negan sighs annoyedly at the sight of them.

"God..DAMN it, Rick. Again? You gotta learn to fucking knock."

"It's my house." My dad's expression is unreadable as he stands there, eyeing Negan. "You said one night. You can be on your way now."

"Well now don't be fucking rude, Prick. Have a seat." He grins widely at my dad before gesturing to the table. "I made spaghetti."

The End.

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ginnsbaker · 10 months

Text

Bulletproof

Summary: You're the only Avenger who sleeps in a cell. | Series Masterlist

Word count: 2.9k+ | Tags: Mild Angst, Fluff, Sharing A Bed, Enemies to Lovers

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

Requested by anon:

could i maybe request wanda x r where the whole team kinda mistreats them and wanda is especially bad. & r saving wanda on a mission, with this: wanda: “How'd you know you were bulletproof?" r: "I didn't. I just knew that you weren't."

Author's note: Thank you to the anon who requested this :) Not sure if this is exactly how you wanted it, but I had fun writing the battle (my first time!) Hope you don't mind I took some liberties ;) Takes place before Civil War.

“You don’t have to be so mean to them,” Natasha tells her.

Wanda's eyes narrow as she continues to fixate on you, her glare seemingly willing the daggers to find their mark. You can sense the energy of her powers tingling in the air, but she maintains control, stopping the daggers just short of their target.

“They need to know what they’re up against,” Wanda retorts, her accent slipping through in a rare moment. “If they’re going to be one of us, they have to prove themselves.”

Natasha moves to stand between you and Wanda, her body language calm but assertive. “They will, in time. But not like this.”

You can feel your heart pounding, but you refuse to let Wanda see any fear in your eyes. Your choice to leave your former life and join this team wasn't made lightly, and you won't be intimidated.

“I'm right here,” you say, stepping forward. “And I'm not going anywhere. If you want to test me, do it properly.”

Wanda smirks, and the daggers drop to the floor, clattering loudly in the silence. “Impressive,” she says, almost as an afterthought.

Steve Rogers, observing from the sidelines, steps in to defuse the situation. His authoritative presence commands respect, and his voice is steady and even. “That's enough for today. We're a team, and we need to start acting like one.”

He looks at you, his eyes filled with understanding but also a hint of caution. “However,” he continues, his tone shifting, “You'll still be sleeping in the cells.”

Your heart plummets, each word from Steve feeling like a blade to your chest. Being sent back to that room, devoid of windows, with only a tiny bed and a comforter too thin to ward off the chill, feels like a betrayal every time. You've spent nights there, shivering and reflecting on your decision to join this team, yet still, you find yourself confined.

“After several months of captivity, even cooking your dinner, you still don't trust me?” you ask, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice.

Steve's expression softens, but his resolve remains firm. “It's not about trust,” he says quietly, his voice carrying a weight of experience and pain. “We've been crossed so many times before, mostly by former HYDRA agents.”

Like you, he doesn’t need to say.

You understand the logic, but it doesn't make the reality any easier to swallow. The sense of being an outsider, the cold isolation of the cells—it wears on you.

Wanda, who had been silent up to this point, suddenly speaks up. “Maybe you should just leave then. If it's so unbearable, why stay?”

The room goes quiet.

A thousand retorts spring to your mind, but you swallow them down, unwilling to escalate the situation further. The temptation to throw back that it's rich coming from her, considering she's also a former footsoldier of HYDRA, is strong, but you bite your tongue.

You look at her, stunned by the bluntness of her suggestion, but also recognizing the challenge in her eyes.

Her words strike deeper than she may realize. Leaving isn't an option you've entertained, mainly because there's nowhere for you to go. No one left in your life to turn to. This makeshift “family” despite their reservation and distance, is all you have.

The days that follow are marked by a subtle but relentless isolation.

In the training room, Wanda's partnership becomes more aggressive than usual. Her powers lash out without warning, her critiques sharp and cutting. You hold your own, but the lack of camaraderie is palpable. Each comment she makes stings, and with every barb, you feel more and more alone.

At meal times, the rest of the Avengers seem to be in their own world, deep in conversation, sharing stories, laughing. You sit at the end of the table, your presence barely acknowledged, a shadow among them. Your attempts to join in are met with curt replies or indifference. You try to brush it off, believing that you should be used to rejection by now. But no matter how much you tell yourself that you're accustomed to it, that you've developed a thick skin, the pain is still there, raw and fresh.

Mission briefings are no better. Your opinions and insights are consistently overlooked. You contribute where you can, but your ideas are dismissed without consideration. You are a tool, a means to an end, not a part of the team. The realization gnaws at you, festering in the pit of your stomach.

Casual encounters with the team become equally disheartening. Tony passes you in the hallway without so much as a glance. Natasha avoids eye contact. Bruce mumbles something noncommittal when you try to engage him in conversation. Steve's assignments are devoid of the warmth or encouragement he shows to everyone else.

Your cell becomes a constant reminder of your status, metaphor for how the entire team treats you.

You’re both just a weapon and a first-aid kit at their disposal.

Wanda is relentless, her words sharp and her gaze cold. You have no idea why she treats you worse than any of them, why her manner towards you has turned so hostile. You don't understand why you get under her skin without even trying, why she seems to target you with a venom that feels deeply personal.

You were expecting that Wanda would be the one to understand what it feels like to be an outsider, given that you both share a common history as former HYDRA agents.

As the days turn into weeks, the isolation wears you down. The walls of your cell seem to close in, and a growing determination to prove yourself begins to take hold.

You'll show them all that you're more than just a disposable weapon.

But underlying that determination is a gnawing doubt, a fear that no matter what you do, it will never be enough to earn their respect, their trust, or their friendship. It's a lonely road, and for the first time, you begin to wonder if Wanda's earlier suggestion might hold some truth.

Perhaps it would be easier to leave.

It’s not like you know the extent of your abilities, but they bring you along the most dangerous missions for one thing:

Your healing ability.

On top of your martial arts training, you provide a sense of security to your teammates, knowing that you'll be there to heal them if they get hurt.

Now, you find yourself on one such mission, infiltrating a den of underground supers. These aren't ordinary criminals; they're mercenaries hired to carry out the dirty work of high-ranking government officials. It's a treacherous job, one filled with unknown risks, and you've been paired with Wanda for the operation.

As you and Wanda are attempting to escape, things take a turn for the worse. You find yourselves cornered in an alley, your escape route cut off by a group of armed thugs and a few individuals displaying unnerving superpowers.

Wanda takes on those with special abilities, her eyes glowing red as she unleashes her powers in a flurry of attacks. You, on the other hand, focus on the armed assailants, wielding two-handed pistols with expert precision. Bullets fly, and bodies fall as you both fight for your lives.

But in the midst of the chaos, you notice something that sends a chill down your spine. Snipers, perched on a nearby rooftop, taking aim at Wanda. Even with your healing abilities, you know that a precise shot to the head would be fatal.

“Wanda, get down!” you shout, but she's too engrossed in her battle to hear you. Your mind races, knowing that you have only seconds to act.

Without a second thought, you turn and run towards Wanda, your body moving on pure instinct. Bullets whiz by your ear, but you keep going, your focus solely on reaching her before it's too late.

You leap into the air, positioning yourself between Wanda and the snipers just as they pull the trigger.

You hear the distant release of the bullet, muted but deadly.

The world seems to slow down as you brace for the impact, only to feel the bullets bounce off your skin.

You land, unscathed, your mind reeling from the realization that you're bulletproof. But there's no time to dwell on it.

Wanda looks at you, her eyes wide with shock but also gratitude. “How did you–”

“No time!” you cut her off, urging her to keep fighting. “We have to get out of here!”

Wanda's eyes flare with a vivid scarlet as she zeroes in on the snipers in the vicinity. With a flourish of her hands, she uses her powers to locate each of their positions. A pulse of energy emanates from her fingertips, reaching out to the snipers' weapons, and within moments, the firearms disintegrate into dust, leaving the men defenseless.

Seeing an opening, you reach for Wanda's arm, your grip firm but not rough. There's no time to waste, and you start pulling her towards the exit, half running, half dragging her to safety. Her breath is warm on your neck, her body close to yours, as you weave through the maze of alleyways, your heart pounding in your chest.

Once you're at a safe distance, Wanda turns to you. “How'd you know you were bulletproof?”

“I didn't,” you admit, still in disbelief, and much to Wanda’s horror that you almost got yourself killed for her sake. “I just knew you weren't. And if those bullets got to you, I wouldn't be able to heal someone who's already dead.”

Wanda stares at you, her eyes searching your face as if she's trying to see something… deeper. Her lips part, like she wants to say something more, something that's just on the tip of her tongue but won't come out.

That's when you realize that you're still holding her arm, your bodies so close that you can feel her heartbeat. A flush of embarrassment washes over you as you become aware of the intimate proximity. Wanda clears her throat, a delicate, almost shy sound, and you immediately let go of her arm.

The silence that follows your sudden step back is heavy and awkward. You can't help but glance at the spot where your hand had been moments ago, still feeling the ghostly sensation of her arm beneath your fingers.

You look at Wanda, and she's looking back at you, her eyes wide and filled with something you can't quite name.

And then, without warning, Wanda starts to laugh.

It's a soft, bubbling sound at first, almost as if she's surprised by it herself. Her laughter grows, becoming louder and more contagious, and you can't help but stare at her, your mouth agape, wondering if she's lost her mind.

“What's so funny?” you finally manage to ask.

Wanda wipes a tear from her eye, still chuckling. “I was just thinking,” she says, her nose scrunching, something you haven’t seen on her and you find it quite… adorable. “You're like a shield now. As effective as Steve's vibranium one, maybe even more so.”

The absurdity of the statement causes you to finally join in her laugh, and your heart seems to flutter at the sound of Wanda's glee.

“I don't know about that,” you say, trying to sound modest but unable to keep the smile off your face. “Steve's shield has a bit more style.”

“Oh, I don't know,” Wanda teases, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “There's something quite stylish about being bulletproof. And practical too.”

Was that a compliment?

You shake your head, still smiling, your previous awkwardness forgotten. You're not only pleased at the first light banter you've shared with a teammate but also smiling at something else, something that stirs deep inside you and that you're not quite ready to confront.

Your crush on Wanda Maximoff.

The toll of the day's event is weighing down on you and Wanda, but like every mission, you're required to report the details of the mission–successful or not. Your muscles are sore, your mind is weary, but the mission was a success, and you can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment.

Arriving back at the Avengers compound, you follow Wanda into the debriefing room where Steve is waiting. Wanda explains what happened, how you discovered your newfound ability, and saved her life. Her voice is filled with respect and something more, something warmer, as she recounts your bravery.

Steve's face lights up with pride. “You both did well today. I'm proud of how you handled yourselves out there.”

You exchange a glance with Wanda, waiting for something more, perhaps some acknowledgment of your change in status within the team, or even an upgrade to your sleeping quarters. But instead, Steve simply nods, his face turning serious. “Dismissed.”

Wanda's face falls, and you feel a sharp pang of disappointment. You start to retreat towards your cell, the cold, windowless room that's been your home for months, but Wanda's voice stops you in your tracks.

“Wait a minute, Steve,” she protests. “After all that's happened, after all Y/N has done for us, don't you think it's time for a change? A real room, perhaps?”

Steve looks between you and Wanda. You hold your breath, hoping for a reprieve from the isolation you've been feeling.

Finally, Steve sighs, his face softening. “Wanda, if it were up to me, Y/N would have their own room already. But it's not that simple,” he explains, his voice strained. “I still need to place an official request with Tony. He's the one who approves these things.”

You can hear the frustration in Steve's voice, and you realize that he's fighting for you, in his own way.

“Fine,” Wanda says, crossing her arms. “But this needs to be done quickly, Steve. It's not right.”

“I agree. I'll talk to Tony first thing tomorrow.”

As you turn to leave and retreat back to your cell, Wanda's hand on your arm stops you, and you look back at her, surprised by the action.

“Come with me,” she says. Without another word, she leads you towards her quarters.

Your heart quickens at her words, and you follow her, trying to process what's happening.

Is she really inviting you to stay in her room?

Once inside her quarters, the reality of the situation sinks in, and a nervous tension takes hold. Her room is filled with personal touches–little trinkets, photographs, her clothes all over the place–that provide glimpses into a life you've only seen from a distance. You feel like an intruder, momentarily paralyzed as you take in the intimacy of her space.

Wanda seems to pick up on your hesitation, her eyes narrowing as she studies you. A smirk plays on her lips as she teases, “Don't look so terrified. I won't bite.”

You chuckle at her remark. “Well, that's a relief.”

Wanda's eyes sparkle with amusement, and she moves further into the room, gesturing for you to follow. “Make yourself at home,” she says. She then goes to the closet and begins to pull out a spare pillow and blanket. “You'll be staying here with me until we sort out a room for you,” she says.

“Thanks, Wanda,” you say softly.

Without further comment, you move to make your bed on the floor, your movements deliberate and slow as you try to give her space and respect her privacy.

“What are you doing?” Wanda asks, her eyes widening as she realizes your intention.

“I'm just getting ready to sleep,” you explain, feeling slightly embarrassed. “I'm quite tired.”

“No, what are you doing on the floor?” she clarifies, a hint of disbelief in her voice. “You're sharing the bed with me.”

“I wouldn't want to impose,” you say, though the offer is tempting.

“You're not imposing,” Wanda assures you, her eyes sincere. “You've earned a proper bed, and I trust you.”

The word 'trust' hits you like a wave, and you feel tears pricking at the back of your eyes.

Blinking them back, your voice cracks a little as you reply, “Thank you, Wanda. That means more to me than you know.”

“Good night, Y/N,” Wanda whispers, turning on her side to face you.

“Good night, Wanda,” you say, just as softly.

You both settle on the bed, and with a flick of her wrist, Wanda uses her powers to switch off the light.

The softness of Wanda's bed is worlds away from the harsh, unforgiving mattress in your cell. You find yourself sinking into the plush comfort, every muscle in your body releasing the tension from the dangerous mission earlier. The scent of Wanda on the pillows only adds to the incomparable comfort they provide. The difference is staggering, and it contributes to you falling asleep much more quickly than you have in a long time.

In the middle of the night, you're stirred awake by the feeling of Wanda rolling closer to you. Her arm finds its way over your stomach, and her soft snores fill the room. Being ever alert, the small action wakes you, but as soon as you realize it's just Wanda, a smile forms on your face.

You lie there for a moment, taking in the warmth and the gentle pressure of her hand. A soft blush creeps up your cheeks as you place your hand over hers to keep it there.

You've become more than just teammates.

You've become friends.

And maybe, just maybe, something more.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff #captain america civil war #the avengers #oneshots #steve rogers #fic request

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boobie-fem-x · 2 years

Note

Can I ask what led you to becoming a radfem? And why? I’m a trans man so idk if you wanna interact with this but I really don’t understand hating on marginalized people who are just trying to live life.

And if it’s about our genitals… idk what to say. You don’t have to interact with them (or even us for that matter) we just want to live. Idk about you but I’m so so tired fighting for my right to survive.

i actually dont hate trans people. i know that surprises a lot of people but i have no hatred for trans people. i became a radfem because over time i started to see how trans ideology is harmful to women. i actually used to id as trans man too, because everyone around me was telling me thats why i felt so wrong all the time. im actually not, im just dysphoric with an eating disorder lol

its not entirely about genitals either. obviously i could never be with someone who was biologically male because i have no desire to be with men, but male bodied people have caused so much more damage than that. id explain more but it would make this answer super long

basically i disagree with trans ideology because of this: its been harmful to women, men have forced their way into womens sports, i dont think a lot of trans people are well informed about the side effects of hrt, and i dont think anyone under the age of 21 should get surgeries or hormones. after that age its your decision but if you cant legally drink alcohol or get a tattoo i dont understand why you should be able to get a life changing surgery

i also disagree with the whole trying to survive thing. trans people have gotten more progress and legislation passed in like 10-20 years than any other minority group. everything caters to trans people. my life was actually easier when i was identifying as trans

#anon #sorry this is so long but thank you for being civil bc i have gotten so many rape threat anons today

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animehideout · 5 months

Note

please could you do jjk guys and their type of s/o what type of woman they would be attracted to headcanons

JJK Men And Types Of Women They'd Be Attracted To

Heyy anon ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡

Thank you for this amazing request, I hope you enjoy it 🫶🏻💕

Characters: Gojo – Toji – Megumi – Geto – Yuji – Choso – Nanami – Sukuna ♡

Ps: I received a lot of amazing requests and I'm currently working on all them, I'll make sure to post them asap, sorry for taking too long, it's because I'm active on Wattpad as well. Thank you for your understanding 💖✨

Gojo Satoru:

Strong, confident, playful woman.

Given his nature, I think Gojo would be attracted to a strong confident woman. Gojo is apathetic towards people who seem to be weak, so being strong both mentally and physically would stand out and capt his interest. He would like to playfully challenge and compete with his s/o. He also prefers that his partner has a witty side, to comfortably engage in playful banters without getting offended of his egocentric jokes ( that he means them 99% of the time.). “Oh baby but I am the strongest, you can take second place that's okay”

Toji Fushiguro:

Charismatic and financially independent woman.

Toji is a strong man with a strong personality so he prefers a woman that would keep up with him, a woman with a strong charisma that goes beyond words. She must be a badass that can manage difficult situations, defend herself and her rights and assert boundaries and limits with others, he finds it attractive. A strong presence totally intrigues him. It is more likable for him that his s/o is financially independent, who is willing to contribute to the well-being of their relationship and supports him monetarily. “I love it when you put others in their places”

Ryomen Sukuna:

Submissive woman.

This man is dominant, controlling and possessive. He wants an easily manipulated woman, so he can break her and own her, tame her and re-create her depending on his own needs. He wants a woman that would serve as his personal assistant, that would please and satisfy him without questioning his orders or giving him a hard time or resisting him. “Just like that, obey me”

Megumi Fushiguro:

Mysterious woman.

This man right here can't be phased by anything, but the moment he meets a mysterious, secretive woman, he would be instantly hooked. He is a mysterious, emo man himself so he wants a reserved s/o with deep secrets. He prefers privacy, so he would like to establish a world for him and his partner to share their deep thoughts, interests and opinions that they never share with others. Creating a safe space. “Your smile is enigmatic, it's intriguing”

Nanami Kento:

Responsible, mature woman.

Nanami is a mature man, he prefers a woman who is able to handle her responsibilities and duties both towards him and herself. A woman that can take wise and right decisions. He's also a very respectful man so he wants a well-mannered s/o with a civilized, heathy and effective communication style. It is important that his partner is emotionally intelligent, and can control overwhelming situations and unexpected issues. He also cherishes a loyal woman who commits to a long-term relationship. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you”

Choso Kamo:

Family-oriented woman.

Similar to Nanami, but wants his partner to be more family-oriented. He dates to marry, and to have a big family so he expects her to commit and build a strong lasting bond. His family and family traditions are sacred and valued, so his s/o must respect and adapt to them and also get along with his brothers. He likes to have discussions about their future concerning marriage, children and house hold duties. She also must have a caring and loving nature to emphasize the well being of their relationship. “Our family will grow, and we will grow old together”

Itadori Yuji:

Kind and empathetic.

Yuji is a moral man with a strong desire to protect and take care if his loved ones especially his partner. He wants his s/o to be empathetic and kind towards him and towards others. He desires a kind and a warm kind of relationship where both him and his partner treat one another with care, love and consideration. She also must have a positive outlook and is grateful for life and faces challenges with positivity. Supporting and standing with each other during highs and lows is a must. It is preferable for him that she's vocal About her empathy, where she stands up and advocates for others who are in need. “I respect your bravery”

Geto Suguru:

Ambitious and smart woman.

He prefers a woman who is driven by her goals. Suguru is an ambitious man with big dreams that he works really hard to achieve. So he appreciates determinations to reach the top, and this is a quality that his s/o must possess. He favours a partner that pushes him forward to succeed and that values hard work. Also, she must be a strategic thinker that sets good plans. Geto relies on his mind while he neglects his heart most of them while taking decisions, same thing must be for his s/o to not cause conflicts in terms of emotional needs. “I am you, You are me”

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m1d-45 · 4 months

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just a small idea since you said you had a lil writers block: since wushi (lion dance) is used for important events/occasions and to honor special guests, maybe you could write about how ga-ming does a lil performance for creator?

- curse anon

vanguard’s fortune

note: this is not what you asked ! i thank you so much though

word count: 1k

-> warnings : written prior to 4.4, lots of “if you know you know” spoilers for liyue archon, story, and hangout quests, but nothin big

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept

< masterlist >

despite everything, ga ming knew he was lucky.

he certainly didn’t feel like he was. aside from his continued streak of bad luck at his performances, you never attended any of his shows and your vessels never gave him so much as a second glance. you’ve walked right by him on the street before—and yes, he knows you don’t ‘see’ most of liyue, but he was in the middle of a dance. he’s certain that word must have spread at least somewhat, but even when he put on a show during the last lantern rite, you didn’t attend. it was as if you didn’t even know he was there, skipping his meager stage to meet up with yun jin.

part of him wondered if you simply disliked liyue, but that was easily proven false. you took the time to accompany chongyun on his patrols, xiangling was more than happy to talk about when you’d helped her in a competition in mondstat, and you’d even fetched ingredients for the wangsheng consultant last year. it was the simple fact that you had nothing against liyue, and he was an outlier.

and yet, he was blessed. vision wielders were rare on their own, and only a thin sliver of them had constellations. he was incredibly lucky to be one of the few within your spotlight of attention, but he never felt the love that was supposed to come with it. yes, he had a vision, the lion carved on the back a figure he’s long memorized, but even the latest of liyuen rotations had a chance to exist by your side. though the others always tried to reassure him, their words fell flat. xingqiu had recieved his vision long before he became a vessel, but he had several turns in the sky to try. chongyun was largely ignored and ningguang was rarely missing from the jade palace, but that information didn’t help as much as they thought it did.

he didn’t care that he wasn’t a vessel (as much as one couldn’t care about such a thing) so much as he was ignored. you fought by ningguang’s side and helped yanfei out of the chasm, but he’d never even heard his name thrown your direction. it could be argued that he was being selfish or even egotistical, but he didn’t think so. sword and strongbox secure transport agency was a well-known name throughout liyue, and yet you’d never so much as heard a rumor. it didn’t affect his business—nor did he want your attention for business purposes—but with you helping a film show (at least now he knew you enjoyed theater) in fontaine, he may or may not have been hoping that yilong wharf’s name might have been passed your way.

it hadn’t been, though. his days went on and he continued his rounds as usual, doing his best to promote his dance and maybe getting a few mora thrown his way in return if he was lucky.

but that was fine. irritating, sure, but fine. liyue was in the tail end of preparations for this year’s lantern rite, and he was set on attending. as soon as the ministry of civil affairs opened applications for performers, he’d done his best to secure himself a stage. nobody had given him a secure word, though, saying that it was “up to divine guidance” as if your traveler hadn’t taken the transport up to the jade chamber last week. yes, you often found other things to do during lantern rite, digging into liyue’s past, but you still attended the scheduled events. you still walked the streets and saw the stalls, and there was no way that the entirety of the main road was already taken up when he’d made a point of asking early.

it was because they saw him as a guard first and a dancer second. most people did, and he was lucky they’d given him uncertainty over a guaranteed rejection. the only reason they did at all was because of the constellation etched into his vision, and he was lucky to have that too. he was lucky to have this chance when most street performers could only dream of performing at the lantern rite.

‘lucky.’ it was an accurate word, but one he was beginning to get tired of hearing.

it was fine, though. he was determined—his vision blazed as he left the ministry’s office, a constant warmth at his side—to prove himself, determined to perform for you. he didn’t know when his chance in the stars would be, or when he’d have his time by your side, but he would make the most of each day until then. when, not if, he did, he would do everything in his power to make the best impression possible.

he gave a few polite waves to various merchants as he walked through liyue, making the familiar trek over the bridge and past the gate. the millelith didn’t stop him, and he didn’t stop to say hello, only lingering long enough to acknowledge them with a quick nod. he knew liyue’s hills and they knew he did too, easily navigating to a quiet, flat space of plain. the threat of hillichurls was a constant outside the harbor, but he didn’t let that stop him, confident despite the growing twilight.

ga ming reached into his inventory and pulled on his mask, hands easily finding the controls for the massive puppet. he took a breath, then began to dance, his feet sweeping over the quiet grass.

he had no guarantee when or if he’d receive the chance to chance to win your favor. but if you chose to have him on your stage, he was determined to put on the best show you’d ever seen.

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saintsenara · 1 month

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wait how bougie was Tom Riddle Sr.? How nice would his Manor have been? Was he like an actually Lord with a title and stuff?

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

in half-blood prince, dumbledore refers to tom riddle sr. as "the squire's son" - which allows us to state with certainty that he was a minor aristocrat.

however, the word minor is important here.

there are - historically - two levels of aristocracy in britain. the first are the peers of the realm - which refers to families which hold one or more of the titles of duke, marquess, earl, or viscount. these are the elite of the elite - these gradations of nobility were created in the middle ages as a way of distinguishing those who held the titles from other noblemen, usually because of a close relationship [often one of blood or marriage or both] to the king.

the titles are hereditary by male primogeniture, and the holders - while this is no longer the case - used to have political power [such as the right to sit in the house of lords], simply by virtue of their birth.

[this is why they're called "peers" - it refers to them historically being close in status to royalty, and therefore expected to serve as royal advisors.]

there is another class of peer - a baronet - whose title is similarly hereditary, but whose position doesn't come historically with the right to sit in the lords or advise the king by virtue of birth. [baronets may - of course - have been members of parliament, or royal advisors selected at the king's discretion, but this would be separate from their title. a duke, in contrast, could historically expect to request a meeting with the king simply because he was a duke.]

while some families have historically been ennobled at the king's discretion, access to any of these titles is pretty much restricted to the small group of families who've held them for centuries.

but below the peers of the realm, there is a second, more minor class of aristocracy, the landed gentry - of which a village squire is a textbook example.

historically, what is meant by "landed" is an ability to live off of the rental income of one's country holdings, which would be leased to tenant farmers. that is, they are landlords in the original sense of the term - lords of the land. this is what tom sr. tells us his family does in half-blood prince:

“It’s not ours,” said a young man’s voice. “Everything on the other side of the valley belongs to us, but that cottage belongs to an old tramp called Gaunt, and his children. The son’s quite mad, you should hear some of the stories they tell in the village - ”

what is also meant by "landed" is that the family in question is of the upper-classes, but that they are still "commoners" - which in this context doesn't imply a value judgement, but which is a socio-legal term which simply indicates that they don't hold an aristocratic title such as duke, earl etc.

[and gentry families certainly aren't common in terms of financial standing... the most famous member of this class in literature? fitzwilliam darcy, whose ten thousand a year is something like thirteen million quid in today's money...]

gentry families might be very old - they might have received their lands from the king in the middle ages as a reward for knightly service, and it's interesting to imagine generations of gaunts and riddles brought up alongside each other in little hangleton - or they might be comparatively newer - tom sr.'s great-grandfather [feasibly born c.1810] could have been a self-made victorian industrialist who bought the lands from the original holder and established himself as gentry.

by 1900, it was becoming much harder for the gentry to live on rental income alone, and many would also have had jobs. these would have been elite, and very frequently were in politics, the civil service, the military, or the law. tom sr's father - whom the films call thomas, so let's go with that - might, for example, have served as a high-ranking officer in the army [including during the first world war], be the local magistrate, or be the local member of parliament.

in terms of titles, thomas riddle would almost undoubtedly be sir thomas - and this is how it would be correct to address him. but this title would be a courtesy, and it wouldn't be hereditary unless the riddles were also baronets [which it's entirely plausible that they were].

which is to say, tom sr. would not have a title while his father was alive - although he would have the right to be referred to formally in writing as mr thomas riddle esq. [esquire]. the correct form of verbal address for anyone other than friends and family would be to call him mr riddle, although the riddles' servants would probably refer to him as mister tom.

tom jr. would not have a title while his father or grandfather was alive. if the riddles were baronets, he would technically inherit the title after he kills the rest of the male line... but given that tom sr. never acknowledged him and his existence was presumably unknown to the riddles' lawyers this wouldn't be something which happened in reality. the estate's executors clearly took control of the riddles' property, the land was portioned off and sold, and the house became a standalone property for sale.

the riddle house - which is a name used informally for it in little hangleton, it would have a different "proper" name - is described in canon in ways which show that it's a typical manor house, which means it would look something like this:

these houses are obviously very impressive, but they're tiny in size in comparison to the magnificent stately homes - places like blenheim palace, chatsworth, burghley house, holkham hall - lived in by the titled aristocracy. the riddles would entertain - for example - by giving house parties, dinner parties, hunting parties, etc., but they wouldn't have a ballroom or a dining hall capable of seating hundreds.

[they would probably also own a property - probably a flat or small house - in london.]

they would have servants, but not colossal numbers - they would undoubtedly have a butler but not footmen, and the upstairs maids would report to the butler since they probably wouldn't have a housekeeper. they canonically have a cook, who probably had one or two kitchen maids assisting, and they canonically have a gardener - frank bryce - who probably doesn't have any assistants. they may, depending on the size of the estate, have a gamekeeper. sir thomas undoubtedly had a secretary and a chauffeur, and his wife might have a lady's maid. tom sr. would have had a nanny and then been educated until at least the age of eight by a governess, but would then have attended a prep school [either day or boarding] until the age of thirteen, and then gone to a boarding school, from which he likely went on [on the basis of social class rather than talent] to oxford or cambridge.

the family would have enormous social influence locally. most people - and also businesses - in little hangleton would be their tenants, and they would also probably have a say over the appointment of the local clergyman [an important figure in the community in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries], since the parish church is likely to have been something called a "living" - the thing which turns up again and again in jane austen - which means that the church and its parsonage technically belongs to the landowner, but is granted to the vicar as a freehold while he's in post.

gossip about the riddles' doings would also be the main source of local interest - the servants were dining out for months on tom sr.'s elopement and return.

so they're something resembling celebrities - but they're local celebrities. nobody in london - and even nobody in cities we can imagine are nearer to little hangleton, such as liverpool - would particularly know or care who they were. tom sr. might have made it into the london gossip columns if he was part of a particularly scandalous "set" [a group of friends] who socialised in the capital, but these mentions would have been fleeting - and the press would have been much more concerned by the doings of members of his set who were genuinely titled or who were legitimately famous.

[this is the reason why mrs cole doesn't recognise the name. if merope had said her son was to be named cecil beaton after his father, she may well have been prompted to hunt him down...]

so tom sr. is elite - but he's elite in a way which is extremely culturally-specific, and which is [just like the portrayal of aristocracy in the wizarding world - the blacks, for example, are far less aristocratic than the riddles in terms of canonical vibe] often exaggerated into the sort of pseudo-royal grand aristocracy which the british period-drama-industrial-complex makes such a big deal of.

and tom jr.'s character is affected by this in a series of extremely interesting ways.

by which i mean that, in terms of blood, he's probably the most aristocratic character in the series - the absence of grand aristocracy in the wizarding world would mean that [were he raised by his father] he would come from a social background which was equivalent [even as it was divided from them by virtue of being muggle] to any of his fellow slytherins, and would help him easily blend into their society because the manners, genre of socio-cultural reference points [he would recognise, for example, that quidditch heavily resembles both rugby and polo], accent and way of speaking etc. that he would possess would be broadly indistinguishable from those of his pureblood peers.

[this is why justin finch-fletchley and draco malfoy speak in essentially the same way.]

but he would then be given the enormous boost in cachet - one which would genuinely elevate him above the rest of his cohort - of his maternal line.

and we see in canon that this does bestow some privilege on him among his peers while he's in school:

Tom Riddle merely smiled as the others laughed again. Harry noticed that he was by no means the eldest of the group of boys, but that they all seemed to look to him as their leader. “I don’t know that politics would suit me, sir,” he said when the laughter had died away. “I don’t have the right kind of background, for one thing.” A couple of the boys around him smirked at each other. Harry was sure they were enjoying a private joke, undoubtedly about what they knew, or suspected, regarding their gang leader’s famous ancestor.

where he's let down socially is that people like slughorn - to whom he can't reveal his slytherin ancestry and hope to maintain cover for his wrongdoing - don't think he's come from anywhere particularly special. this is because he has a muggle father - absolutely - but it's even more that he has a muggle father who, since he left him to be raised in an orphanage, was presumably working-class.

what the young voldemort lacks is any socio-cultural familiarity with the muggle class performance which the class performance of the wizarding world parallels. abraxas malfoy boasting about how important his father is would be something a tom jr. raised by the riddles could match - "oh yes, my father gives to all sorts of causes too. in fact, he was invited to buckingham palace because of it." - establishing himself as an equal in terms of class and social influence even if he isn't an equal in blood.

what actually happens in canon is that the orphaned tom - with his uncouth manners and his working-class accent - has no hope of gaining any sort of social equality with his posh peers.

so he becomes determined to outrank - and humiliate and control - them.

#asks answered #asenora meta #tom riddle sr #tom riddle #lord voldemort #surprise! it's the class system!

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i-starcreamed · 10 months

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Hey can I get three different scenarios if, Optimus, Mirage and bumblebee from Rotb, had met a tameranean who is like Starfire in a way, and is a princess. How would they react when they meet her and learn how strong and powerful she is, and what would their romantic relationship be like. Also the reader acts like starfire too, but I would find it funny if she kissed the Autobots to learn their language when she too comes to earth cause they were the nearest thing near her. Sorry if this is a lot I just love the idea since she too lives in space, that they may know a little bit about each other. Also I would find it adorable if they had sparklings with her since I head canon tameraneans can practically mate with anything. (I’m gonna scream if you except this, cause I don’t think you will but thank you for at least reading this! 🫶🏾)

i actually thought this idea was super cute, anon. I decided to do long-ish headcanons because I wasn't sure how to fit everything into one scenario for each.

[ tameranean!reader post includes: ROTB Optimus, Mirage, and Bumblebee

OPTIMUS

once he assesses that you're not a threat, I imagine he'd be super curious about your powers and abilities. Once he finds out you're too from space, I feel like he'll be able to confide in you a bit more than he would with humans?? Like, you're an alien like him, possibly stranded on Earth as well

he respects you so much, because wow you're a princess? He admires your bravery, especially if you're willing to help them. Despite being reluctant at first

Just imagined Optimus Prime bowing down to you a little, started going crazy

anyways

The Autobots were the first you came across upon landing on Earth, you didn't speak their language nor did you speak English. You proved you weren't a threat, but they didn't understand you or know your motives yet. You realized you landed on yet another civilization that doesn't speak nor understand Tamaraneans. And so, you did the only thing you could do. Optimus was the closest, so you gave him a simple peck on the mouth. The other autobots around were trying not to giggle at the look on Prime's face. He was shocked, confused, and maybe a bit flustered. You swore he didn't answer for a couple minutes when you greeted everyone.

He's suchhh a big fan of your Tamaranean features, you're so unique and yet so human as well. Again, he admires your bravery and strength and your attitude. Genuinely enjoys your company. If you're somewhere secluded, he'll go on a drive with you maybe flying next to him as you talk :3

I think Prime would be one to want sparklings with his significant other, he could only hope they will live in a world outside of war. He would never want them to experience what he and many others did. Also deep down, the Orion Pax in him that would've never thought about fighting in a war would've wanted to happily settle down somewhere. Knowing that you're a bit stronger/resilient than normal humans (or most types of aliens he knows of) he feels a lot more secure with having sparklings with you. How many? No one will ever know.

MIRAGE

okay so imagine you meet in the middle of a fight accidentally. You've been trying to blend in like a normal citizen of Earth ever since you got here, you were shocked to see that humans were in fact not the only species that lived here. Unfortunately for you, the same city you were staying at was being attacked by giant evil alien robots.

You're in the middle of the street, not really knowing the extent of what these robots can do. One second you see a Porsche, a semi truck, and a camaro speed past you and transform into more alien robots...but this time they're fighting the one destroying the city so they're good you think? The next second, you were too frozen in admiring these aliens when suddenly a car goes flying towards you.

It happens in slow motion, Mirage is the only one who sees it go straight for your face. But he's confident, he knows he can catch it and save you. Except...it slips through his servos. His spark nearly stops. Instead of seeing a poor 'human' go spat on the ground, he can't believe his optics when you reach out and catch the fucking car??

After that whole incident, he's asking you a bunch of questions. You give him a lil kiss so you can answer him in his language, you're slightly surprised when suddenly you know english and cybertronian, whatever that is

Honestly, I could imagine Mirage never letting go of that kiss, like he's going to joke about it for years.

You're a princess? hell yeah, he thinks you're super badass and wants to see you in action tbh. He's still gonna act like a knight in shining armor but he knows you can handle yourself, he wants to impress you fr

Wants you to teach him your language, he will try but it'll sound like gibberish. Either that or he will learn it immediately because uhh cybertronian super advanced robot?

He's definitely an excited father to your sparklings, you will need to make sure he doesn't teach them to be troublemakers because HE WILL raise them into little fuckin risk takers

BUMBLEBEE

Unfortunately he would not be able to learn your language since there are no tameranean radio stations.. but hey you can still kiss him!

once he gets to know you and where you're from, he's a huge fangirl I think

definitely hypes you up and praises you when you chuck a car at a deception or something. Once he knows you're probably as strong as they are, you guys do some cool combos out in the battlefield.

power couple !?!?!

jokingly does a little bow every time he greets you, then crushes you in a hug. Probably plays some cheesy line from some radio station

he lovesss how you're so kind and compassionate to species you don't know and a planet that isn't yours, but also the fact that you're brave in the face of danger. He knows you can defend yourself and still come back to give him a lil kiss afterwards

he asks if you can carry him. you probably lift him up by one hand and he's going crazy that you might drop him.

you will both learn about Earth together, as well as each other's home planets :3

laying out in the middle of nowhere, staring at the stars and reminiscing about your home? of course

he'd be sooo nervous about sparklings, nervous but excited. He'd be the most caring boyfriend and equally as caring father

thinks your sparklings are the cutest ever ever

#transformers x reader #transformers #maccadam #optimus x reader #optimus prime x reader #rotb optimus #rotb optimus x reader #alien reader #question mark #rotb mirage #rotb mirage x reader #mirage x reader #bumblebee x reader #rotb bumblebee #rotb bumblebee x reader #rotb x reader

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loveundrwrld · 3 months

Note

omg hiiiii i love ur writing smm <33 could i ask for a scenario of tanner x male reader where reader was super shy when he was bullied but years later tanner finds out he's somehow become a badass gang leader who wouldn't hesitate to beat his ex-bully up... i wonder what tanner's reaction would be to that hehe

also can i be 💖 anon? once again thank u <33

how sweet of you to say, thank you!! and to both your questions- yes, you may :) 💖 anon you shall be!

i will say, in his intro, seeing his darling act so reclusive and anxious after high school was what triggered him to rethink his actions- he wouldn't be quite as submissive towards him at first with his darling if he didn't go through that revelation. so tanner is a bit bitchy here since the "why is y/n acting like that"-> "oh no i've hurt him bad haven't i"-> "i'm in LOVE with him" process hasn't happened here.

thus, tanner is still in denial here :p and not as patient with his darling as he typically is

---

yandere ex-bully x gang leader male reader

(cws: violence (not against reader), organized crime, bullying, yandere is victim blaming, stalking)

tanner thought about you more often than he would ever care to admit. the shy, nervous boy he met in school who would cower from him like a scared puppy. something about you just made his hackles rise- he felt strange every time he'd seen you mumble and blush around him.

the strange feeling was annoyance, surely. you had been asking for attention, looking and acting the way that you did. you were always so shy and deferential around other people, always going along with being the butt of the joke. it was only natural that you were picked on a little.

but he'd matured since high school. he knew that bothering people and playing pranks on them was immature, no matter if you were basically asking for it. and if he'd seen you now he's sure you two would be polite and civil. you'd simply laugh and agree with him that he was a dick, and then you two could be best friends.

... or something. it wasn't like he thought about what meeting you again would be like.

and it was normal for people that went to the same high school to want to be curious about what their fellow past classmates had been up to, so he'd done some simple digging on you out of curiousity. nothing out of the ordinary. but you'd seem to have gone completely off the map, he'd not been able to find anything about you.

he was agitated that he couldn't learn more. he was worried for your safety, was all. i mean, you never posted anything online. for all he knew you could be dying or something. it was natural that he'd feel anxious right now.

but, he simply had to give up. he'd been trying to approach it from different angles, but he'd accepted that he'd reached a dead end.

except... until now. he was idly slouched over on the couch in front of his television, the news on as background noise. then, he perked up when he saw a familiar face come up on the screen.

it was your face that was glaring into the camera with a look of pure hatred, one that you certainly didn't have when he knew you.

good lord, what the hell happened to you?

"suspected gang activity in eastcliff- residents beware," the graphic read at the bottom of the screen.

he rushed to his laptop, wanting to check the arrest records for your shared state. he hadn't even considered this when he was looking up where you had been, it would have never have occurred to him that you would have gotten yourself in that much trouble.

and once the full report had loaded up? yes, it seemed that you actually were a criminal. you were arrested on a few charges but they got mysteriously dropped due to "unforeseen circumstances."

you hadn't been convicted of any felony charges yet, but he could tell that you were indeed involved in organized crime... somehow. and quite awfully high up in it, if you had corrupt police officers helping you escape any justice at all. it would have seemed like a laughable idea to him before, but he couldn't argue with what was right in front of him.

tanner scrunched his face up, his mind feeling blank from shock. how could this have happened? how could someone like you end up with such an... exciting life? how could you have turned out even more dangerous than him? his mouth felt dry, as a sense of bitterness seeped into him.

he didn't even know how to see what you were up to, to see why you turned out the way you did. surely you must have been forced into it. you couldn't have changed so much so fast otherwise. you were just a puppet with a nice face for the real people on top, obviously.

he felt a bit of bitter agitation, and tapped his leg as he thought. he couldn't live his whole life in mystery. he needed to know more about you.

there was one thing he could try...

---

it seems that his gambit to getting information about you had got your attention.

though, nothing could have prepared him from seeing you in front of him. you glared at him fiercely, your face so close to his that he felt your hot breath on his skin.

the eyes that used to be wide and quivering when you were younger were now narrowed and sharp. all he could see was the ice cold rage on your face. it was disorienting, to you someone shift into such a completely different person that you were nearly unrecognizable.

from a little puppy of a boy... to a fearsome wolf.

"of all the things you could do, tanner, you called my mother? don't you dare fuck with her," you growled at him, tugging hard at his shirt.

since when did you get balls? he felt that bubbling uneasy feeling he used to get whenever you were around him... only this time, it was stronger. he didn't like how this new you was effecting him.

you seemed much more dangerous than he was... and he didn't like it. wasn't it him who used to intimidate you? whatever happened to that?

he tried to laugh back at you, trying to stuff away any strange urges his brain was throwing at him.

"oh, come on- y/n, fuck with her? you're acting like i was trying to hurt her or something. i just called her. listen i know i was kind of a dick but really, you're making me out as the bad guy here and-"

you clocked him, hard on his temple. tanner stopped rambling and let out a small groan, the sharp throbbing pain causing him to fall down to one knee.

he opened his mouth to talk, but before he could say anything, you were already leaning down in his face.

"i don't want to hear from you ever again, you piece of shit. don't call or talk to me or my mother if you want all of your limbs intact. you may not know this, but i'm a big deal around here now. do not fuck with me," you say, your voice thick with anger.

for some reason... it felt like sparks and butterflies were running through him. something snapped inside his brain, connecting things. it occurred to him sudden why he had always felt so strange about you, why he was so obsessed with you.

you were hot. and this new you? strangely, he didn't dislike it at all.

"... got it," he said, breathily.

though, he didn't intend on keeping his promise.

#yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #tanner whitlock #male reader #i think tbh that this dynamic could be very interesting since tanner would have to rethink his strategy towards courting his darling #his instinct would usually have him want to act as a protector figure since he thinks strength is what he can bring to a relationship #but if his darling clearly is stronger/more dangerous he'll probably feel the need to switch things up quite a bit #though he’s still going to be whiny and desperate ala this scenario lol

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jennifer-jeong · 2 months

Note

Okay so first, I really love your LnD fics (patiently waiting for more of your amazing works) 🥹🫶 and hear me out...

Reader who is reincarnated as a Fae being and has been alive since. But the thing is, her wings had been clipped off (with the use of silver chains, meaning she's vulnerable against silver) for a century and is in Linkon city since she feels that part of her (her wings) are somewhere hidden in the city (Think of Maleficent live action ig where her wings were taken from her) and meets the guys and so on :)

HI ANON THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR ASK AND YOUR KIND WORDS FJDSKLAFJSDL;A I APPRECIATE IT SM!! TY FOR INTERACTING!! I’m so glad to hear you like my fics and I promise more are on the way hehehe please do request me again if you have more ideas!!

I hope I did your prompt justice! I definitely did think a lot about maleficent when writing this hehehehe

[Fluff + Angst] [Love and Deepspace Boys x Fae!Reader] Angel

CONTENT Angst to fluff, gender neutral reader, mentions of violence, blood, trauma, torture, healing alongside them, mutual pining between you and the boys, happy and open ended endings! ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+

Your wings were a pretty and pearly milky white. Your wings resembled those of high flying birds. They were thick enough to allow gliding and also strong enough to give you lots of control in the air. They were iridescent in the sun and carried you high in the bright sky. The air was thin but more refreshing up there. You played with clouds and soared through the endless blue. It was freedom. It made you feel alive, warm.

It was your gift, but unfortunately, it was on someone else’s wishlist.

You’d never been a spiteful being, nor had you ever hurt a fly. But when silver chains ripped your flesh and tore your muscle to take your wings, severing your very soul from your body. When they destroyed your forest, your home, your family, your heart. You swore to make them suffer.

You were powerful and hunting these fools down was nothing difficult for you. The problem was hunting without your wings, your best weapon.

The lack of mobility and being forced to fight on the ground made it so that you could maim the weak ones, but you could never reach the ones who profited off the suffering of you and your people.

Linkon city is where they were. You knew this. You could feel your wings there. You also knew that you’d need to hide, figure out who did what and how to get your damn wings back. It would take time, but time was all you had as a fae. You’d do whatever it took to make them pay.

It’d take years, but it was worth it.

2 years later and you’ve already made moves to apprehend (and torture) a few key figures, always leaving them in front of the police station when you were done. You still had so much good in you and it always prevented you from killing. But it made you seethe that they were filthy fucking rich from what they stole from your homeland. They sold your resources and displayed your bodies, your wings, like they were trophies. Life was still cold and depressing for you but you did manage to make some friends in Linkon. They’d even help you with your mission. You only trusted them with the information because they had similar goals.

XAVIER

Xavier was a local policeman you had met a few decades into your plot when you were hired to help with the case. He was coincidentally also investigating illegal hunters and black markets selling goods stolen from other civilizations such as yours. It was a big ring of crime and he was determined to end the atrocities that were being committed in it. Meeting you was just extra motivation on top of his already relentless drive for justice. You became investigative partners since you were both capable in combat and often investigated the same people anyways.

Xavier was kind, gentle, quiet, and stronger than he let on. He always worked without expectation of reward and you appreciated that. You just wanted justice and he wanted the same. It helped that he didn’t seek publicity because it would’ve made your life harder since you were probably wanted as a vigilante from before. Xavier taught you his philosophies and you realized you’d been consumed by your desire for revenge, unable to enjoy life outside of it. You admired him for his morals, so you learned from him, and it made you two grow closer. He was more than happy to help, it was so rewarding to see you slowly become your bubbly self that he guesses you lost a long time ago.

He had his suspicions that you might be fae. The man was smart but he played his cards carefully, he always held them close. He acted aloof with you and pretended to not constantly stare at the back of your shirt, trying to see if you had imprints of missing wings on your shoulder blades. He also figured that your motivation for wanting to crack these cases came from somewhere. If he also managed to figure out that you’d been behind some of the previous mysterious arrests, he’d turn a blind eye. He knew your actions weren’t crimes. He felt glad that you got them back for what they did to you and your people.

After a few years of planned raids and dozens of arrests, one of the recovered items from the warehouse was a beautiful pair of wings. Still buzzing with magic, craving to feel the wind again. You felt them when they were being transported to the police HQ. The surge of energy that continued to approach you made you hold your breath and bounce your leg out of pure anxiety. Xavier put a hand on your shoulder to try to calm you down. He’d already figured out what was going on just by looking at you. You didn’t need to say a word. It was something that slowly came naturally since you two spent so much time together. You smiled and he smiled warmly back. You were in the middle of panicking because Xavier was still touching you when you were presented with your missing soul, your wings. You requested to view the “evidence” privately with Xavier and wasted no time in feeling your delicate wings with your fingertips again.

Xavier stood behind you, his right hand found its way to your upper back. He finally traced the outlines of your cut wings. It made you gasp at first, but you trusted him. As he continued to feel them, you shivered. They were scars, they were more sensitive. He stepped to your side and you turned to partially face him, his hand sliding off of you. You looked into his eyes and your longstanding feelings for Xavier were making their presence known by heating up your face, flushing your cheeks. You swore you saw a slight tinge of red on the tips of his ears too. He spoke to you in his familiar voice that you loved so much. He decided to tease you slightly.

“I think I always knew that you’d have wings, you were too perfect to not be an angel.”

ZAYNE

Zayne was a surgeon you’d met one day when he treated your wounds since you collapsed outside the hospital. He discovered the scars where your wings used to sit on your back. You were high off the morphine when he checked your back for more injuries so you barely even realized.

He questioned you but not in the way you expected. You thought he wouldn’t know what they were or try to take advantage of you. But instead he asked what you knew about the hunters that took your wings. He already knew exactly what happened to you just by looking. He was involved in cracking down on research related to Fae and Lemurians since there were people trying to fuse their genetics with these races to gain their beneficial traits such as immortality.

He knew some things you didn’t know and vice versa. You both began working on this together, investigating research facilities, interrogating suspects, and fighting only when needed. You were unstoppable and the law didn’t plan to ask you to let up. You both hand delivered them collectors and shadowy figures that had hid from the police for so long. When you fought, Zayne could both heal and attack from afar while you rushed them head on. You were unafraid because you believed in your partner, your trust in Zayne only grew as the years went on.

Early on, Zayne encouraged you to let go of the spite, the revenge. You knew he was right when he said that they did not benefit you in this. He saw the rage in you and could see that it was hurting you, mentally and physically. You listened, you knew better. You stopped the relentless tortures and instead, let the collectors rot in jail, but not before you got in a few good punches. Zayne watched you slowly come out of your shell again, actually taking the time to enjoy the little things in life instead of being hyper focused on revenge. He’d be lying if he said you weren’t one of the most rewarding patients he’d ever had.

Working with your partner was definitely quite the rollercoaster. He was always so professional and mature but would also randomly tease you as if you were kids, albeit with a fully deadpan expression. Zayne was reserved and often came off as cold but he made you so warm. You knew he was an extremely compassionate and kind person under his exterior and you admired him for it. Zayne also adored you in the same way. You had gone through so much pain and suffering but you still smiled and shined like the sun.

Over time you adapted to live without your wings but after one specific raid on a collector’s mansion, you knew exactly what the collector’s prized possession was because it belonged to you. You could feel your wings. They still surged with energy and upon seeing them when you went to do follow up investigation, you immediately called to them. They flew towards you and you inspected them, almost not believing the scene in front of you. Zayne stayed close ready to support you, especially if you were to fuse with your wings again, he knew it’d be hard to keep them hidden and it’d just bring up so much previous trauma.

You turned to face him slowly, leaving your wings behind you. You hesitated. Not letting your wings fuse with you yet. Zayne looked into your eyes, trying to comfort you with his presence. After a few seconds, Zayne held out his hand, you took it. His skin was cold but somehow it made yours burn, the heat spreading through your body as your face warmed up. He spoke quietly to you, telling you to take your time. You closed your eyes and took deep breaths, your thumb slowly caressing the back of Zayne's hand as he did the same back.

Zayne had always been good at comforting you with his words, maybe it just came naturally since he was a doctor. Regardless, you knew it was exactly what you needed right now. You didn’t know what you’d do after you got your wings back. Would you go home? Would you continue this mission with Zayne? Would having your wings make it harder? Would it make it easier? You confided in Zayne as you spoke your thoughts out loud. Once you were done, you were overwhelmed and he could tell. He started his reply with a sentence that filled you with warmth, hope, and a little bit of giddiness. He speaks, teasing you a bit at the end, his face flushing.

“It doesn’t matter what you are or if you have the wings or not, you’re beautiful and you should follow your heart… especially if it’s here.”

RAFAYEL

Rafayel was a painter “looking for art or inspiration” that you met at an underground event where illegal goods were being sold, but you quickly figured out it was a front. Rafayel was a Lemurian, you sensed it immediately since you weren’t human. As a fae you had the ability to sense certain things, and so did Rafayel. Upon meeting each other at an art exhibition, you quickly exchanged information and agreed to meet up again the next day. You almost simultaneously revealed that you were both after the hunters that destroyed your homes when you finally got to chat alone.

The two of you start to frequent more underground events, both of you being well connected and hiding your true intentions very well. You use the events to gather information and then put your plans into action when your targets are alone. It worked amazingly well, you were both extremely skilled and efficient at what you did. It slowly chipped away at this network that shamelessly destroyed your beautiful homes.

Rafayel was a bit of a loose cannon. The man was so sweet and bashful one second and deadly serious the next. He was so gentle with you but didn’t hesitate when there was business that needed to be done. He could easily switch it on and off too. You were just glad you were on his side of this war.

Both you and Rafayel were out for revenge but something about your partnership changed you two. You both slowly helped each other heal, confiding your worries and traumas in each other. You were still both ruthless when it came to apprehending the people who did you wrong but the tortures stopped and the warmth returned outside of the violence. You two actually started to make good memories and live life instead of just trying to survive. You’d often watch the sunset over the ocean together, it was peaceful and you’d chat about anything and everything.

Eventually, after dozens of raids and missions, Rafayel finds weapons that used to belong to his family at the same time you find your wings again. You kept quiet until the mission was done, knowing you could feel your wings but not wanting to startle Rafayel. You looked at the weapons with him, you put your hand on his back to show your support for him. His eyes stayed glued on the knives and his face was a painful melancholic expression. You rubbed circles into his upper back with your thumb, hoping it could ease some of the pain caused by resurfacing memories.

After ensuring that the weapons would be sent to his personal studio, he continues to explore the mansion with you, following you while you find your wings. You communicated to him about your wings and he knew this would be tough for you too but you were both glad you had each other in this moment.

When you saw your wings in a display case at the end of one of the hallways, you bit back tears. It was a lot to take in. You passed millions of dollars worth of paintings to reach the most priceless thing in this whole building. Rafayel lags slightly behind you, wanting to give you a moment. You turn to face him, telling him that you don’t know if you want the wings back or not. Would they make you complete again? They can’t bring anyone back, can’t take away the pain. You couldn’t hide them like Rafayel could hide his true form, would it be a nuisance?

Rafayel makes his way towards you as you ramble, clearly distressed. He quickly envelopes you in a hug, letting you cry lightly into his chest, a painting of Lucifer on the wall next to you. You stay like that for a while. When he finally pulls back, he cups your face with his hands. You were his fallen angel, he wasn’t always great with his words but he truly spoke from the heart when comforting you like this.

“You never needed these wings to be complete, you’re ethereal with or without them. You’ll always be my angel, no matter what.”

Thank you for reading!

|| MASTERLIST<3 ||

#love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #l&ds x reader #xavier x reader #xavier fluff #xavier angst #zayne x reader #zayne fluff #zayne angst #rafayel x reader #rafayel fluff #rafayel angst #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace angst #lads fluff #l&ds fluff #j's silly ramblings #j's asks

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