#but seriously i do think it doesn't make much sense for him to be killed as a test | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

awearywritersworld · 7 months

Text

there can be no covenants between men and lions

ryomen sukuna x reader summary: sukuna would rather contemplate your murder than come to terms with his feelings for you, but you call him out on his bullshit. w/c: 3k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. angst to fluff. aged up!yuuji. heavy kissing. features yuuji x reader and he is, of course, best boy. cursing. sukuna decides he wants to kill you (so obviously there are mentions of murder and such) but cant even stand the sight of you upset, what a goof. i'd once again like to think sukuna's not too ooc in this but im still more than likely delusional. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: i was so touched by all of the love that part one received, i wanted to try my hand at part two. i hope i've done it justice! just as part one references homer's the odyssey, this references homer's the illiad because sukuna is very hot and well read. achilles, the protagonist of the novel, is discussed. i'm definitely open to writing a part three, because this one is much heavier on the angst and i miss soft sukuna from part one. series masterlist // masterlist

you and yuuji rarely argue, but when you do, it's often over his aversion toward seriousness, even when a situation calls for it. though you really should have kept your mouth shut, because in this moment, you'd give anything to see his typical carefree expression.

his eyes are regarding you intently, taking in your flustered appearance with knitted brows.

"yuuji..." you trail off, wracking your brain for an explanation of your current predicament.

despite the fact he regained control of his body only moments ago, one of his hands is curled around the back of your neck, while the other is resting on your hip.

"baby, what happened?" he presses, the tone of his voice entirely unreadable.

"s-sukuna," is all you can manage to choke out.

his eyes darken immediately, his jaw tensing in a way that intimidates you. "he hurt you."

you really can't tell if it's a question or a statement, and your response comes a little too quickly. "no! that's not... no."

the next few seconds tick by in a slow sort of agony, heat creeping up your cheeks.

he notices for the first time that his head is eerily quiet. no snide remarks, no scathing commentary. just his own thoughts as he pieces together the situation.

his gaze drops to the angry, red marks littering your neck and you watch in helpless horror as understanding passes his features.

"oh."

the word hangs in the air as you await his reaction, fully anticipating disgust and betrayal. you're positive it's only a matter of time before he throws you out of the apartment and tells you to never come back.

what you don't expect, however, is the way his shoulders relax as the tension leaves his face.

he straightens himself, arms falling to his sides, but he doesn't put any distance between your bodies.

"how long have you...?" he's not quite sure how to phrase the question.

"a few months. this was the first time anything... um... happened. we usually just talk."

he tilts his head to the side, so you clarify. "after you've fallen asleep."

mulling over the information, he hums in response, looking thoughtful for a few more seconds. then, his usual demeanor is back and he grabs your hand. "wanna get dinner? i'm starving!"

he tugs you a few feet toward the door before you come to your senses. "woah, woah. wait a second, yu."

when he looks back at you expectantly, you find that his face holds not one hint of bitterness or judgement. "aren't you angry?"

you're amazed to find that he's the one looking sheepish.

"how could i be? it's not exactly easy to be with me when i have a thousand year old curse rattling around in my body, but you stay anyway," he expresses, making your heart soften. "i just want you to be safe, so i'll take whatever relationship the two of have now over him being a threat to you."

as your hands reach up to cradle his face and your eyes sparkle with adoration, you briefly wonder how you ever found such a sweet man. he places a quick kiss to your lips, the smile on his face easy going as ever. "sooooo, i'm thinking takoyaki or maybe udon—"

"we can get whatever you want," you glance at the spatters of blood across his chest left there from the mission, no doubt from sukuna's careless slaughter. "as long as you go wash up first."

"right!" he agrees quickly, bounding off to the bathroom.

you stand alone in the middle of your living room, left with the ghost of both yuuji and sukuna's lips against yours and a sense of bewildered excitement.

back in his prison, however, sukuna is furious with himself. he should have let you die that day he kept you from being run over. better yet, he should have killed you with his own hands before the brat won back control of his body.

he is a terrible being that delights in carnage, a fact that's well known even centuries later. so why, when he could have done anything in the world, did he go to you? you even asked that same question before you—

he rejects the memory of you pressing your lips to his disdainfully.

your foolishness and your naivete are revolting. your softness and your pliancy are nauseating.

he shouldn't have been anywhere near you, if not to rip your obnoxious heart from your chest like he'd always planned. it was a situation he'd dreamt about and now it's slipped through his fingers, even though those same fingers had graced your fragile little neck.

you were nothing more than a clueless mouse in the jaws of a snake, and though the pains of hunger have been tearing at its stomach for years now, the serpent let itself starve.

sukuna retreats to his domain, fingers prodding at his temples irritably. he allows himself to wallow for a few hours, shutting out both you and the brat.

then, steeling his resolve, he begins to watch and wait like the predator he knows himself to be.

lulled into a false sense of security regarding your safety, it's clear that yuuji has let his guard down. just barely so, but enough that sukuna can see a few weaknesses in his chains. ironic seeing that, now more than ever, the king of curses wants you dead.

it goes without saying that he promptly ceases his nightly interactions with you. it's beneath him, wasting his time with a human. he knows that now.

but while he may not speak to you, he cannot refrain from stealing glances as the days stretch on. you're usually reading, completely oblivious to his watchful eye. he convinces himself it's simply to keep tabs on you, as he's deemed you his foremost enemy.

he's not sure how much time has passed when you begin calling out for him in hushed whispers after yuuji falls asleep, the hurt and confusion in your voice plain to him. it's irksome, and evidently, you're incapable of taking a hint.

his silence becomes more painful with each turn of the moon. you're a bit mortified to find that you genuinely miss him, so you just want answers. did he finally realize that you're nothing special, not worth bothering with?

eventually, growing restless, you all but beg him. "sukuna, please. talk to me. what happened? what'd i do wrong?" his chest tightens with what he believes is vexation. "you can't just make me like you and then disappear. you can't kiss me like that and then—"

"you insolent, maddening little creature!" his eye flies open just in time to see you gasp, your body jerking away from him. "shut up already! can't you see i want nothing to do with you? don't you tire of being pathetic?"

you don't dignify him with a response, swallowing thickly and turning away from him.

finally, he thinks, some fucking quiet. though if he's gotten what he wanted, why does his chest still ache?

he stares at the back of your form until the sun rises.

sukuna is no simpleton. he can be patient when he is sure of a reward, but he's thrilled that the perfect opportunity arises just two days after your encounter.

yuuji is exhausted. gojo kept him out all last night, despite the grueling mission he had today, and when he all but stumbles through your apartment door, the moon is already high in the sky.

you never mention the change in your relationship with sukuna to yuuji. even though he was so understanding, you still feel a touch awkward discussing it further. and maybe in the back of your mind, you're holding out hope that it might go back to the way it was.

sukuna watches through yuuji's eyes when you greet him, your expression half concern and half 'i told you so'. nights out with gojo usually lead to this very situation.

he showers while you finish cooking dinner and once you both eat, he helps you clean up despite his exhaustion. after whispering his thanks and pressing a kiss to your temple, he retires to bed.

you promise you'll join him soon, but sukuna knows it probably isn't true. following his outburst, you've taken to staying in the living room until you're ready to sleep.

yuuji's out before his head hits the pillow and nearly two hours later, you're still not in bed. sukuna's eager, but waits until he's sure the brat's deep in his slumber before he tries to take over. it's relatively easy, and he pushes down yuuji's unconscious mind as far as he can before rising to his feet.

this is finally it. he stretches his limbs lazily, a dangerous smirk settling on his lips. the floor creaks with each step he takes, but he pays no mind to stealth. you're no match for him.

tonight, you'll be his first victim of many and the thought of making up for his past misjudgement has him giddy with excitement.

but the sight that greets him upon exiting the bedroom— you curled into yourself on the couch, your shoulders shaking with quiet sobs— it stops him in his tracks.

he wants to move, more than anything, so what the fuck is wrong with him? is the brat taking over already?

and why is that uncomfortable sensation making it's home in the center of his chest once more?

when you notice his presence, your face shifts to him and reveals your wide, teary eyes. it's clear you're surprised by his appearance, but you quickly bury your face in your knees.

you just want him to leave you alone. you hate him for what he said, for what he did. he forced his way into your life, made you care about him, and then he just vanished. he's cruel and you feel like an idiot because you should have known that from the beginning. or maybe you did and he just made you forget.

"go away. i.. i don't want to see you."

he's disbelieving, for a brief moment, that here you are giving him orders while he stands in the doorway with the intention of taking your life.

he moves toward you, invading your space in a way that is meant to be intimidating, but when you look up at him, every emotion ranging from sadness to rejection to indignation is etched into your features. though the terror he hoped to inspire is noticeably absent.

"i said go away!" you swiftly stand up, your hands meeting squarely with his chest as you push him with every ounce of power you have.

you may as well have shoved a brick wall, as he doesn't move even a fraction of an inch. he seizes one of your wrists anyway.

"what is it you think you're doing, exactly?" he spits.

"let go of me!" you beat against his chest with the hand he left free until his fingers wrap around that wrist too.

"enough."

he's certain there isn't a being that has attacked him (if he can even call that an attack) and lived to speak of it, not once in an entire millennia.

so just end the insolent brat and be done with it, he urges himself.

but he can't and he doesn't understand why, so he just stares down at you.

"what the fuck do you want?" you mean for it to come out forcefully and full of spite, but your voice cracks before you can finish.

an excellent question, indeed. what does he want?

he doesn't answer you and it's so goddamn frustrating that you begin to cry again, rambling to fill the discomforting silence. "you've already told me i'm pitiful and annoying. it's clear you think my company is insufferable, that i'm undesirable—"

that ache in his chest is unbearable now. it claws at his ribcage and shreds the flesh of his heart. it makes his stomach twist uncomfortably and rings shrilly in his ears. he can't even hear you anymore, but he can still see the tears sliding down your cheeks and the way you gasp between words.

the truth of the matter crashes down on him and the devastating weight of it is so crushing it squeezes the air from his lungs.

that feeling in his chest isn't annoyance or repugnance. its anguish— the kind that rattles his bones and leaves him sick with regret.

it's because you're in pain, and worse yet, he is the cause of it.

sukuna pushes you back against the wall before you can comprehend what's happening. his hands find either side of your face and you're alarmed to find that he looks... frightened.

"what are you doing to me?" he pleads for an explanation, because he sure as hell doesn't have one.

how can one little human hold such power over him? it's unnatural. it defies all logic and reason.

you stare at him, open mouthed. his face is so close that his breath fans across your skin and it makes you feel dizzy.

"what are you talking about?" you finally ask.

"you should be dead right now," he frets, despair seeping into every word. "it should be easy."

it dawns on you that you should probably feel afraid, but you just don't. his touch is firm, but careful. and there's no malice to be found behind his eyes. "you're not making any sense."

he thinks back on the time you've spent together, trying to figure out how the hell he ended up here— him at your mercy, rather than you at his. he remembers the first time he made you laugh and considers that it may have been the beginning of his unraveling. for the following two weeks, you both discussed homer at length as you made your way through his poetry.

"there can be no covenants between men and lions. wolves and lambs can never be of one mind, but hate each other through and through." you blink at him, recognizing at once that he's quoting the illiad. his voice is low and unsteady in a way that suggests desperation. it makes you shiver. "therefore there can be no understanding between you and me, nor may there be any covenants between us, till one or other shall fall."

your eyes narrow as you begin to understand his his internal struggle, though you're unsure if he's attempting to reason with you or with himself.

"you quote achilles, and rightfully so i suppose, given your common qualities— exasperating pride and a penchant for meaningless violence." he looks relieved, like your seeming agreement eases his mind. it's short lived. "but you forget his passion."

his gaze shifts away from you, his hands withdrawing from your face.

"his passion?" he repeats as if it's the most incredulous thing he's ever heard.

"by the end of the story, is he not acquainted with regret, sympathy, and respect? he doesn't remain blind to the error of his ways forever."

"only a foolish human could make such fanciful deductions," he chides through gritted teeth, still refusing to meet your eye.

you actually laugh at him. "perhaps you shouldn't call upon achilles to make your point after all. at least he grows out of his utterly childish view of the world."

"how dare you?" he demands, his features growing wild as one hand finds your throat (his touch not nearly harsh enough to cause you any discomfort), the other colliding with the wall beside your head. his display doesn't fool you though. "you witless, wretched brat! you're nothing more than a blip in a universe you cannot even begin to understand. you sicken me."

you throw achilles' words in his face just as easily as he did to you. "hateful to me as the gates of hades is that man who hides one thing in his heart and speaks another."

his gaze hardens, and for a split second, you think you may have been mistaken in your fearlessness, but then his fingers thread themselves through your hair and he pulls your lips to his.

it's rough and commanding, and he tells himself it's only to get you to shut up. to wipe that expression of smug pity from your face.

it's not because, despite the fact you know how awful he is, you're convinced there's something salvageable in him too. nor is it because you tyrannize his every passing thought. and it's certainly not because the feeling of you pressed against him brings him more satisfaction than ripping the hearts from the chests of a hundred men.

ultimately, his denial is overshadowed by his desire. your touch is nothing short of needy as you tug at his shirt, an attempt to bring him even closer, and god does he hope that means you feel just as desperate as he does. he deserves at least a little consolation.

as his hands roam every valley and curve of your body, he deems it unfair that a being whose very existence spells hell on earth should be so taken with such a devastatingly divine creature.

"i've wanted you so terribly," he mumbles against your mouth before he can stop himself.

"then fuck you for making us both wait," you breath out.

his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips in response and his lips shift to your neck. "watch that pretty little mouth of yours, brat."

he nips at the spot just below your ear hard enough that it makes you gasp, doubtless a punishment for your impudence. you recover quickly though, wasting no time with your flippant reply. "or what? you'll go back to plotting my murder?"

he pulls away from you abruptly, sighing deeply and pinching the bridge of his nose. "you truly have zero sense of self preservation, don't you?"

"guess so," you shrug, smiling at him bashfully. "can we watch a movie? i'll even let you pick."

you ask as if it's the most normal request in the world. as if he isn't a thousand year old curse that would be off turning the city to ash were he not here with you instead.

he rolls his eyes, scoffing at the ridiculousness of it all. "fine."

#m!writes #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna imagines #sukuna angst #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna imagines #ryomen sukuna angst #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk angst

2K notes · View notes

all-purpose-dish-soap · 2 months

Text

1.8k / 22 / soap soulmate au, part 3

…

Oh, shit, Ghost thinks. What the hell did you just do?

Ghost stumbles out in the road, looking after you in shock. You just... jumped out. In handcuffs. There's no way you think you can make it anywhere like--

Oh, double shit. You're running right for the cliffs in the distance. Looks like you might make it, too. That ain't good. Morally justified or not, he's still the criminal here. If you get to rough terrain and he loses you by car and on foot, you’ll go for help, and his squad won’t stand a chance.

He swears, grabs his pistol, and points it at your back.

He has a clear shot. He's sniped easier targets.

… He sighs and lowers his gun. Johnny, you owe me one.

…

You've got a good head start on him, but when he eventually catches up, he's going to be pissed.

Your ankle and hand sting from your rough landing. Adrenaline pumping, heart racing--you've got to get to those cliffs, and fast.

Behind you, the engine roars closer. Wheels crunch over gravel. He’s catching up. But the cliffs are right there. A river snakes through the rocky terrain. If you can just throw yourself across the water, you can make it. You can lose him on foot.

You pump your legs as fast as you can. The wind burns in your lungs. Keep moving. Just a few more seconds before you reach the water.

You’re so focused on the water that your foot lands wrong between river rocks and your ankle twists. You keep going, gait lopsided. You can’t stop. Once he catches up, you’re either a hostage again or you’re dead. But first, he's gotta catch up, get out of the car, open the door, grab his gun, sprint after you--

Then his car swings around you, pulling what should be an impossible drift over the rocks, one tire scattering river water into the air. You skid to a stop, making a break for the cliffs instead. There's a waterfall. You might make it if you jump--

Then Ghost is on you, a blur from the open car door to the edge of the rocks. He grabs you almost out of the air. You land stomach-first on the ground. You grunt, windless, gasping for air. Pain surges through your body. Fuck, that hurt. The rocks are harder than the grass was. You see stars.

Then you start to realize the position you're in. Your hands are still cuffed in front of you--over your head, now--and he's got his knee on your back. He's holding you down with all his weight, the barrel of his pistol pressed between your shoulders as he grits his teeth.

"Stay. Down," he growls.

He's not gentle. It'd be inconvenient to kill you, but you're really testing his sense of pragmatism. You're making him expend a hell of a lot of effort to keep you alive--jumping off a cliff, fucking seriously?--so he doesn't owe you any extra effort toward keeping you comfortable. Quite the opposite.

You shift your pained body under his knee, groaning into the sharp river rocks cradling your face.

"I said stay down," he growls, grinding his knee down against your back. You feel every individual sharp rock pressing into your skin. "I will hurt you.”

Normally he doesn’t give warnings like this, but he figures he owes it to Johnny to keep your stupid pretty face intact. As much as he wants to put a dent in it right now. And if you keep acting all resourceful…

You keep still, trying to catch your breath. Your hands curl around the river rocks and feel around for something loose and sharp. No such luck.

He grabs your shoulder with one hand to keep you still. His knee moves off your back for a second. You realize he’s trying to get a better look at the soulmate mark on your neck.

"Got to be another John MacTavish somewhere in the world," he mutters. "Bloody common name."

He grips the back of your vest and hauls you to your feet, practically scruffing you as he drags you back to the car. He growls something under his breath along the lines of irritating little shits finding each other.

Back in the car, Ghost’s phone rings again. This time, he glances back at you and switches his phone to his non-dominant hand. He picks up his pistol with his other hand and steers with his knee.

“Ghost,” he answers. This time, the reply has him shifting in his seat. “Negative. Didn’t see her.” Another long pause. The voice on the other end is louder and more animated than the one before. “I told you I’d look, and I did. Wherever she is, she’s fine.” The reply is clipped. “The captain told you not to go looking. Chrissake, Johnny, you’re not hanging out at base looking for a date. You’re a wanted criminal. Have a crumb of self-preservation.” Another long reply, this one rising in volume. “I know. Yes. I hear you. I know— Johnny—”

He goes quiet for a long while, uttering single-syllable responses occasionally. You can’t hear Johnny’s words, but you do hear his tone of voice. He doesn't sound happy.

“If the captain tells you to stay put, you stay put. End of story.”

You glance at the rear-view mirror again. Ghost is looking back like this is somehow on you. The sour face of a man getting chewed out.

Ghost and Johnny go back and forth until Ghost finally seems to tire of it. "No, not right now," he says. "I told you what I know. I’ll call you back."

Johnny curses from the other line right as Ghost hangs up.

Your fingertips are still tingling from the sound of Johnny’s voice, even at a distance, even over the phone. Maybe from the cuffs, too.

You don’t miss the irritated look on Ghost's face. "You in trouble?" you ask.

Ghost doesn’t hold your gaze. "He's a little pissed off, yeah."

After that, you don't speak for a long time. Your whole body hurts, and the adrenaline and sheer length of this day are taking a toll. Your eyelids sag. But every time you drift into sleep, you see Johnny's face again and jerk awake. It's torture. You don't have the mental fortitude to block him out anymore. You’re terrified that wherever Ghost is taking you, Johnny will be there.

You lean your forehead on the window, squeezing your eyes shut. "So..."

"What." There's no venom behind the response this time. He doesn't bother looking at you. But he's listening.

It takes longer than you'd like to work the words you're trying to form out of your throat. "John is still in one piece?”

He keeps driving in silence for a moment. You can almost hear his brain ticking as he considers. There's a tenseness behind him, a tension that's wound up and ready to snap.

"Yeah. Got a few holes in him, but it takes more than that to keep him down. Stubborn bastard." Another long, heavy silence. His hands grip the wheel, and he glares ahead. "Got a problem with that?"

"I'm not sure."

"You got issues with Johnny, you tell me. Got enough problems without you being all coy."

“Do you, uh, have a soulmate?”

Christ, he hopes you're kidding. He can only take so much of this from Johnny, and now you? Obviously Johnny hasn’t stoppedtalking about you. Can’t stop talking about what a pretty thing you are. Face like a muse, he keeps saying. Bastard described you in so much detail that, when Ghost was surveying the Las Almas base, you popped out like a neon sign the moment his sniper scope swept over you. He could've grabbed any damn Shadow, but no, he decided to do Johnny a favor and grab you. Now he can't bloody shoot you no matter how much you deserve it. Lucky Johnny’s not here to see what a bloody mess you’ve made of yourself under his watch. Not that he tells you any of that. Best to keep Johnny in the dark until they get the information they need out of you.

"You're a hostage," he says. "Act like it. And Johnny's off the table."

That’s a relief. You dread the thought of looking Johnny in the eye and trying to figure out how to make excuses for almost killing him. You can only hope to delay it as long as possible.

…

It turns out the "base" Ghost spoke of is a shed in the middle of nowhere. A barn at best—from the outside, but from the inside, it’s huge. You recognize a few members of the Mexican Special Forces, also your former allies before your company betrayed them on Shepherd’s orders. Rodolfo in particular gives you a hard stare as Ghost drags you past him and into a much smaller room. It's a weapons closet converted into a makeshift interrogation room. He pushes you down into the chair hard by the shoulder. You lean on the table, flexing your sore wrists behind you and wishing you could just put your head down and sleep.

He keeps a close eye on you once you're down. You show no clear desire to run again and no more than a passing interest in the impressive spread of rifles and launchers on the walls. You’re in the heart of an enemy safehouse. Even if you managed to grab a gun and escape this room, every other person outside wants you dead. You’re almost glad Ghost locks the door. At least there’s a barrier between you and them.

In the dim light, Ghost notes the bruise on your cheek and the scabbed-over cuts and gashes littered over your exposed skin. Your forehead sports a nasty, wet-looking burgundy splotch where your head hit the ground after he tackled you. You look about as defenseless as a wounded rabbit. If he weren’t busy trying to keep you from escaping as a hostage, he’d probably feel bad about hurting a friend's soulmate.

He's not his most charming self here.

"Stay awake, now," he warns you.

The overhead light clicks on. Ghost stands across from you, but the person standing by the light switch is Captain fucking Price. He stares at you, his hard gaze boring into the soulmate mark on your neck.

Then he smiles. "Good find, Ghost," he says. "This is the one. Guess Soap wasn't lying."

…

part 1 / part 2 / [part 3] / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10

more Soap / masterlist tag

735 notes · View notes

meanbossart · 3 months

Note

How did your DU drow react when he got told he had to kill his spouse? and then when he went to wake up Astarion and get tied up? I think I just wanna know how your DU drow mentally/emotionally is doing during and after that part, and when talking to Astarion afterward, I'm a sucker for hearing about those deep kinds of moments (hopefully that makes sense?) Also, how did your DU react when you met Kressa Bonedaughter and learned all about what was done to him (again, I know none of the companions really comment on literally something horrible being told such a shame, honestly) but how would you say or think that Astarion and Shadowheart might have reacted hearing that info? Again, thank you for all your art and for answering these questions! PS: (I really don't care if your answer is super long; I WILL EAT IT UP)

Sooo for the first question, I wanna preface by saying that I personally don't think their relationship was that in depth yet, at that point. Yes, DU drow enjoyed Astarion's company and relied on him in a similar way which he relied on Shadowheart. And also yes, Astarion saw DU drow as the first person who ever took him and his agency seriously - but I think feelings were still in their infancy. DU drow's mind was a mess through and through; he drank constantly to keep his urge at bay, he kept his distance from everyone most of the time, and when he did seek out comfort in either Shadowheart or Astarion (the non-sexual kind, they didn't really fuck at all), it was a kind of primal instinct and desperate longing for companionship - if you asked him if he was in love with anyone, however, he would have said no.

Similarly, while I think Astarion's act 2 confession is sincere, I also think that he's being sincere when he says that he doesn't know what you are yet. You're not really a lover, but you aren't a victim, either; what you are is a person who he would rather not have to murder eventually, and as someone who has had their empathy squeezed out throughout the course of two centuries, that's meaningful enough. He may fantasize about the best case scenario for you two - but he has no expectations that whatever this is will last. But it is nice, for the time being.

So the "murder your darling" scene, rather than a proof of love and trust, is to me the turning point where:

A) DU drow has to come to terms with the fact that he doesn't have as much control over the Urge as he thought, and B) When Astarion snaps out of his care-free, just-go-with-the-flow nature around his plan and this relationship. They both realize they bit off more than they could chew and are now caught in each other's crossfire.

Which is to say that I don't read Astarion's words of comfort to him as entirely honest - specially when you compare it to certain dialogue deliveries later in the game. I think he's still, to a degree, telling you what you need to hear so that you hold out for just a bit longer and kill Cazador. You probably can't be together forever as he idly fantasized about once or twice, when he let his mind wander - but god damn it, he needs to at least be free, and it seems like you have bloodlust to spare to make that happen.

Meanwhile, DU drow finally comes to confront the fact that he is not in control. Doesn't matter how hard he tries or how much he drinks, the urge will do to him as it will, and when it wishes. It stops being fun and it gets scary, from that moment on.

But here's who did stop it: Astarion. Where alcohol fell short and his willpower failed, Astarion stepped in.

So, more interesting than the scene itself to me, is how from that point on DU drow would have no choice but put his trust entirely on the vampire to control him. He ties him up, he keeps an eye on him, he has full spoken-word permission to kill him if necessary - he is forced to be as vulnerable at humanly possible under his hand, every night. Regardless of whether or not DU drow realizes that Astarion is doing it for his own reasons, he doesnt care, because Astarion has now become his rock and his bondage - hell, if Astarion does have a reason to keep him alive that's all the better; someone else might just slit DU drow's throat and be done with the concern altogether.

And so, it's only from that point on that DU drow truly starts to see Astarion as an equal, and even a partner. He's thinking that, if his whole life has to be like this, at least he has someone who can handle it.

Astarion, meanwhile, I believe only comes to truly consider (and wish for) DU drow's freedom after he's free from Cazador - and after he bestows that freedom upon his siblings and the other spawn. That's when he finally understands the length of DU drow's devotion to him and the value of freewill as a concept- and how he wants it for both of them, instead of being content with his own.

Not to mention... I think in Astarion's mind he was 100% not going to survive Cazador LOL so when he succeeds he's like "oh shit I guess anything is fucking possible huh. Yeah fuck it lets go fight your dad, also I've decided I want you for realsies, now."

Anyways, can you believe I thought this was gonna be a short ask. Here have a doodle I made while thinking about all this bullshit:

As for Kressa, I got an ask about that before but I can't find it now LOL to summarize; he was pissed, angered, and in a far more personal level embarrassed to have had his dirty laundry aired (AKA, victimized) in that way in front of the others - but this isn't something he would have expressed outwardly, and I think both Shadowheart and Astarion would have known better than to inquire him about it. It's not really something he would have sought out comfort for in anyone, so, I think the subject died as soon as Kressa did. In this case, their lack of commentary was completely appropriate - If they had reached out in any way (which would have been, in my opinion, completely out of character) DU drow would have shut them out with a quickness.

#I'm a little drunk so I hope this is coherent LOL #THANK YOU FOR THE ASK #ENJOY THE ELF BASED ESSAY #DU drow lore #sketch #bg3 spoilers #ask

441 notes · View notes

gentrychild · 7 months

Text

BNHA 407 : AFO is a lying liar who lies

Today is a very sad day because I am about to do something I genuinely dislike: I am about to defend All for One. In order to cope, I shall make fun of him the whole time.

AFO and Yoichi's backstory is finally out, with AFO narrating it, and there are two possibilities: he is either completely lying about it (boring) or he is lying a little about it (very in-character for him) because he is also lying to himself.

Lie number 1: AFO was born evil.

The narrator (AFO, seriously, it's AFO) says things such as "The baby drained the lifeforce of both his mom and his brother.", "It was born an arrogant baby." and such but it really reads at AFO villifying himself to add to his own legend.

That's what babies do. Children, before they're born, kinda have to take their strength from their mother. That's why pregnant people aren't supposed to do anything taxing.

AFO and Yoichi's mother didn't die because baby AFO drained her like a vampire. She died because she was a homeless woman who had access to nothing and had to go in labor alone.

Same thing here: during twin birth, a twin is often bigger than the other (well, probably not to extent of Yoichi and AFO, but you get my point).

Lie number 2: AFO, as a demon baby, is shown killing for no reason, just because he can.

(First slaughter by Baby AFO shown in that chapter.)

There are two things that are strange in this scene (apart from... you know.... a baby murdering people...)

AFO had no reason to go after them because they don't have any quirks to steal.

It makes no sense for someone to attack a group of people with nothing to gain. I doubt that's the kind of behavior you have when you're in survival mode as you're barely surviving in the street.

However, a previous panel points at some context we might be missing.

The same panel that indicates that those guys don't have a quirk to steal also shows that they are wiling to do some "preventive attack" on a bunch of quirked people who might or might not be those who assaulted a protest group (reminder that in this context, that protest group are protesting the rights for quirked people to exist).

I could be wrong but odds are that they did something to be qualified as a threat to All for One and we are missing the additional context.

(Second slaughter by Baby AFO shown in that chapter.)

Now, the poor souls who just got absolutely wrecked by a toddler wearing what I suspect to be a garbage bag have quirks, which makes more sense than the previous scene.

However (and thank you for @aimportantdragoncollector for pointing that out to me), we also have this panel.)

Yoichi is shown with bruises on his face and might be broken teeth.

Probably because those same people AFO is shown killing attacked him.

Lie number 3: AFO never loved Yoichi because he can't love, he just considered that he was his. That's all. Nothing more.

(Just... Just ignore the rats.)

AFO didn't care about Yoichi so much that the very conscious first act of his life might have been to swim a river upstream while dragging his brother above the surface with what must have been the deathgrip of all deathgrip.

AFO didn't care about his brother so much that Yoichi was fed and clothed by an AFO who was malnourished enough for his ribs to show and who wore what's basically an improvised toga.

But he just keeps sacrificing what little he has for someone he doesn't care about one bit, that's just his first possession. Nothing more.

Okay, I am going to be clear: anyone who sees that panel and thinks that it's the proof AFO didn't like his brother... You just outed yourself as an only child.

Siblings punt each other for no reason. (There is a reason why the first recorded murderer was an older sibling.) In this case, the reason was Yoichi throwing a can at him.

AFO: "You're not inviting me to a fun activity? You're leaving me out, in the cold, unable to partake in brother bonding activity? Oh, vault for Little Brother! Vault for Little Brother for one thousand years!"

AFO: "Nevermind, we're reading together. All is well, I guess."

Lie number 3: AFO killed the glowing baby for power, because he could, or because the Glowing Baby didn't deserve it

Still laughing about AFO's flawless reasoning... "Comic books heroes' life suck. Better to be a villain. I already did the whole struggle thing, I want an easy life."

AFO killed the glowing baby because he was jealous. It's as simple as that. The glowing baby was considered the first official quirked individual (even though it's not true), was protected by his family (if I remember correctly, the mother of quirks was his mom) while AFO and Yoichi had no one but each other (EDIT: I was wrong, the Mother of Quirks was Destro's mother. thanks to the people in the tags), and had a ton of people following him (while, for some strange reason, people start running away screaming when AFO shows his quirk... What a mystery...).

The last panel was basically AFO saying "I want to be loved' but not having the frame of reference to even know what love is.

In conclusion...

While AFO is definitely a bad guy and a monster, he didn't begin his existence as one. He just wants people to believe that. Because his pride and his ego can't allow him to admit that he lived a childhood full of horrible trauma where he was a victim abandoned by society (to an even greater extent than the LOV) or he would probably combust out of rage and mortification.

Ergo facto, AFO is a lying liar who lies, especially to himself.

#bnha 407 #bnha meta #bnha manga spoilers

945 notes · View notes

scarletlizzard · 4 months

Text

Epilogue

Sessions Series

Paring: stalker Wanda x female reader

Tags Minors DNI: stalking, mentions of a knife, smut, smidge of somnophilia, fingering, strap on use (R Receiving), surprisingly fluff. This type of relationship is super toxic, okay!!

Masterlist

A/N: Thank y'all so so much for reading this series. Truly has been so nice seeing everyones comments and reblogs (the tags kill me every time)! This was my first series and hopefully there will be more, I really enjoy writing and am happy to share with you kind people. Let me know if you have any questions, would love to know what you think!! Thanks 💚💚

New Years Eve 2018

Your senses were heightened as you became aware of a set of eyes on you. Her gaze fixated on you from across the room, behind the crowd of people that swarmed around you. You watch with a familiar spark in your chest, a sense of safety that your shadow was watching over you.

"They're about to start the countdown, I'm going to find Maria!" Natasha yells closely to your ear, breaking the eye contact you held with Wanda.

You give her a small smile and nod, "Alright, find me after!" Before kissing her cheek and giving her a short hug. You watch your best friend push through the crowd until you can no longer see her red head, and your eyes travel back to your shadow. Panic settles in when you realize she's nowhere to be found.

Around you people begin pairing off, touch hungry ones scanning the crowd for a last chance at a kiss before the New Year. A touch on your shoulder makes you smile and turn around, but instead of seeing your Wanda, you see a drunk man attempting to balance himself in front of you.

"Hi sweetie," he slurs, resting his hand on your shoulder. The '2019' glasses he wore took up most of his face, a drink in his other hand sloshed onto your shoes.

"I'm sorry, I'm looking for someone..." You groan and try to push his hand off of your shoulder. To your suprise, he keeps it there.

"I'm somebody, you found me!" His words slur together as he presses closer.

"Seriously? Get off!" You raise your voice and put your hands on his broad chest, pushing him back. It's only a second later that you feel a body pressed against you from behind, the intoxicating scent wrapping around you.

"Hey man, I'd back off." Wandas husky voice sounds from behind you, but she moves to step in front of you as the man steps forward again.

He laughs and holds up his drink towards her, "We're just having fun, you wanna join in?" He slurs again, and Wanda makes a face of disgust.

"Just go away before we do something we'll both regret," she threatens. It's then you notice her hand is behind her back, settled on what you know is a blade hidden underneath her jacket.

Instinctively you reach out, resting your hand on top of hers. You watch as her shoulders drop and her grip on the handle softens. A blush creeps up your neck as you once again realize the affect you had on her.

Who, really, was the mouse?

"Fine, fine, you two are no fun," the man mumbles with a shrug, leaving the two of you in the crowd.

Before Wanda can turn around, you wrap your arms around her stomach, hugging her from behind. You feel soft vibrations from her back as she chuckles, turning in your arms.

"Okay, little mouse?" She asks softly, her demeanor changed in an instant as her green eyes meet yours. You nod and slide your hands up to her shoulders.

"I was hoping you would show up," you bite back a smirk as she leans in. The crowd begins counting down, signaling the seconds to midnight.

10... 9... 8...

"I'm always there, you know that," Wanda rasps in your ear, placing a soft kiss just below.

7... 6... 5...

The thought doesn't bother you, of her always being there watching. Waiting. Instead of dread, you felt comfort. You knew she would always be there. One hand cups her face as she continues to leave soft kisses across your jaw.

You would take any bad, as long as you had this good. As long as you had Wanda.

4... 3... 2... 1...

As cheers errupt around you, shouting, "Happy New Year!" You waste no time pressing your lips to hers, your fingers tangling into her soft brown hair. Wanda holds you tightly against her as she slips her tongue into your parted mouth. You savor the flavor of mint on her tongue, biting down softly on her bottom lip. She groans into the kiss, and you can't help but smile.

"You're going to be the death of me, little mouse..." she sighs onto your lips, and you nod.

"You love it..." You giggle, causing her to laugh. She pulls back with an unfamiliar look in her eyes, lips parted like she wants to say something. You wait, but only watch as they pull into a crooked grin before kissing you again.

***

January 2019

Wanda peers through the darkness into the windows of your house, her figure disconcernable against the shadows.

You walk around, a prickling sensation on the back of your neck, knowing someone is watching your every move. Despite the comforting warmth in the room, a shiver runs down your spine, knowing your shadow was just outside.

But instead of fear, instead of unease, you simply walk to the front of the house and stare out the window.

Wanda remains concealed, her presence a silent observer in the stillness of the night. She looks with curious eyes before realizing what you were doing, and a smirk forms on her face.

Your hands move to the locks, opening them up with a 'click'. As you stare off into the shadows, a sense of vulnerability washes over you, the feeling of leaving the windows unlocked. You have to lock and unlock it three more times before you're comfortable.

"Little mouse.." A whisper in the dark, a body next to yours as you stir in your sleep.

You could've sworn it was a dream as her hand traveled down your body, cupping your clothed pussy. She ran small circles over your clit, the clothing between become wetter. You felt your skin burn under the covers, aching for her as she teases you. Then her hand slides inside of your pants, rubbing against your now sensitive clit.

You awake with a start and attempt to sit up, but her other hand immediately covers your mouth and presses you back onto the pillow. Your hands fly up to her wrist that held a hand over your mouth, your breathing ragged as you attempted to figure out what was going on.

"It's okay, pretty girl. Just let me take care of you.." Wanda whispers, slipping her fingers inside of you. Her body presses further against you as she moves her wrist, her fingers pumping in and out of you at a quicker pace. Your moans muffle from her hand on your mouth.

"Such a good little mouse.." She praises, trapping your moans into the palm of her hand. "You were just begging for me to sneak in, needed me to come fuck you huh?" Her tone is condescending, but you only groan in response as her lips attach to your neck.

"That's it, just like that," Wanda chuckles darkly as you squeeze her fingers tightly, her thumb moving circles on your clit. "Now I want you to be a good girl and cum on my fingers, okay?"

As she sucks the skin on your collarbone, you follow as she commands, coming on her fingers and biting down harshly on her hand. Wanda moans at the feeling and the way you fall apart for her. You knew by the sound of her belt unbuckling that it would only be the first of the night.

***

February 2019

"So you and Wanda, huh?" Natasha laughs, shaking her head. "Was the therapy that good?"

Your face turns a dark shade of red as you think back on your sessions, the dark road it led you down. You shrug and take a sip of coffee, "I suppose it was..."

There was no way you could tell Natasha everything. You wouldn't. The Cat and Mouse game you and Wanda played was special, just for the two of you. But there was no way you could hide your feelings for her anymore, or the marks she left on your body, from your best friend.

"You're happy?"

"For the first time in a long time," you answer honestly. Through the whirlwind of emotions Wanda caused you, you knew you were.

"Taking your medication again?" Natasha raises an eyebrow as you tap the side of your cup 4 times absemindetly.

"It'll never go away..." You refer to your compulsion, "But I'm learning to cope with it."

"Good! Now, when are we going to go on a double date?" She smiles widely at you.

A date... you couldn't imagine Wanda taking you on a date. Maybe you could sit at a nice restaurant and she would watch from across the street. Maybe four rows away from you as you sit in a movie theater. Would it always be this way? Always about the chase?

"Hopefully soon," is all you say, a small smile planted on your lips.

***

May 2019

The microwave beeps from across the kitchen, and you set your glass of wine down before walking over and pulling out a bag of freshly popped popcorn.

Wanda watches hidden in the shadows as you grab a second glass, filling it up and topping off your own. She raises an eyebrow at the sight. Jealousy seeps in through all the cracks of her chest. She knew for a fact that Natasha was with her girlfriend tonight, and you never had anyone else over, especially this late at night.

Two glasses of wine sit on the counter along with a bowl of popcorn as you grab your phone. Her heart races as she sees the smile spread across your lips as you stare at the small screen.

A vibrate from her pocket distracts her from you.

Wanda takes her phone out to check the text, shaking her head with a sigh. She laughs at the message with the ridiculous nickname. It was only fair, she supposed.

You - Want to watch a movie, kitty?

She looks up from the screen to see you standing by the window, waving at her. Wanda tucks her phone back in her jeans and walks towards your house, where she finds the front door unlocked.

"Do you ever get tired of watching?" You ask curiously. Wanda now sat next to you on the couch, her arm wrapped around your shoulders as you leaned into her warmth. New and uncharted territory, the most normal interaction the two of you had privately. It felt so natural. You longed for this.

"No," she answers sternly, reaching into the bowl you held and tossing some popcorn into her mouth.

In the months Wanda had revealed herself as your shadow the two of you became closer, but she still felt out of reach. You noticed during sex that she would never let you touch her, and you craved to reach out and caress her. You didn't know why, and any time you tried to ask her, she would shut it down and become distant. Wanda still watched, too, every night. Any time she wasn't in the room with you, you could feel her eyes on you. By now, you didn't mind it, but you were starting to want... more.

"What if you... didn't have to go far to watch me?" You ask casually, keeping your eyes on the movie that played in front of you.

"What do you mean?" Wanda asks, and by the tone of voice, you could tell she knew what you meant. She wanted to hear you say it.

You lean forward to set down the bowl on the coffee table and move to situate yourself to sit on her lap. Your legs straddled her thighs, and your hands rested on her shoulders. You let the nail on your finger scratch up and down the side of her neck softly.

"Baby.." You whisper to her, feeling her strong hands grip your waist. For some reason, Wanda loved when you called her that, and you saved it for times like this.

You grab her jaw in your hand, tilting it to the side so you had full access to her neck. Your lips descend upon the soft skin, tongue licking a stripe to her pulse point. Wanda shifts beneath you, fingers fidgeting against your hips as you begin to bite down and suck.

"Is that what you want then, little mouse? Did you fully think about what that means?" Her voice is laced with lust as you trail down and leave another mark. "It means you'll never be alone, you won't sleep alone. It means I can use you whenever I please..." Wandas hands travel underneath your shirt, exploring your back.

"I know.." You mumble against her skin, your hips rolling slightly down against her to find she was definitely packing.

"It means you'll belong to me. You'll be mine, completely," Wanda growls as you leave another mark, her senses failing her as you continue to grind against her.

But you stop suddenly and remove your lips from her neck, your hands on either side of her face.

"I always was, baby. I am... completely," you whisper and look into her eyes, finding that same look she gave you on New Years Eve.

Wanda kisses you passionately, slipping her tongue into your mouth the second she can. Her hands travel your body before she's pulling your shirt over your head, you do the same for her.

"I need you so fucking bad," you groan against her lips, the ache between your legs growing as you throb around nothing. Wanda nods and hums in response, lifting you up and laying your back on the couch.

She slides her hand into your panties, feeling just how badly you needed her. "All mine, huh?" Wanda chuckles as her fingers pump inside of you.

"Completely," you moan out as she begins kissing your chest. You reach around her to undo her bra, sliding it away so you can feel her breasts pressed against you.

Wanda marks your skin as hers, fingering you until you're falling apart underneath her. You watch with wide eyes as she takes her fingers out of you and puts them into her own mouth, sucking your juices off of them.

"Mmm, you taste so good, pretty girl.." Wanda gushes and then chuckles as a whimper leaves your mouth. She then leans down and kisses you in a quick and sloppy kiss, letting you taste yourself on her tongue. She parts to unzip her jeans, sliding them off of her before lining her strap up between your legs.

Wanda slides in, filling you up completely with her faux cock. The position, the closeness, this was all so new. Usually you were bound or on your stomach. This was different. It was so much more intimate. She moves her hips slowly against yours, a low moan escaping her throat.

"So good, detka.. always so fucking good," she groans and lets out a few Sokovian curses as she thrusts harder into you. Her arms rest on either side of you, holding her weight above you. You take the opportunity to wrap your arms around her.

She tenses and begins to pull back, but your legs wrap around her hips tightly to pull her closer into you. You both moan at the feeling of closeness, her being deeper than ever in you, and Wanda finds herself lost in you. She lets your hands roam the skin on her back as she fucks you.

"Baby - feels so good!" You cry out in her ear, the weight of her body pressed down onto you as she grunts against your neck. Your nails scratch down her back, causing a guttural moan to escape her lips. You throb around the plastic cock at the sound of it, wanting her as close as possible.

"I know, I know... so good... Christ," she praises you and moans in agreement, pace picking up. You can feel the muscles in her back flex as she pounds into you. The way she's moaning into your skin, you can tell she's close.

She fills you completely with every thrust, hitting that one spot that makes you see stars over and over again. Your fingers feel every inch of skin she'll let you touch, from the few moles that spread along the top below her shoulders to her back dimples on the bottom. You let your nails mark into her skin again, and Wanda feels on cloud 9. Pure bliss.

"Fuck, pretty girl I'm gonna cum," Wanda moans in your ear and picks her head up to look in your eyes, finding only pleasure written on your face. You nod at her words and hold onto her back, your legs still gripping tightly around her hips to bring her desperately closer to you.

"Me too, baby, I-I'm so close!" You gasp, feeling her lips on yours.

"Fuck, fuck! Always.. so good, fuck, I love you so much.. oh God," Wanda moans into your mouth as she thrusts into you, fucking you hard into the couch. You don't have time to register what she says before the tight coil that had built up inside you releases. A wave of pleasure crashing over you.

The two of you come at the same time, the sounds of your moans and Wanda chanting your name as she slaps her hips into yours. Wanda slows to a stop once she's sure she's taken everything she can from you.

Your chest moves rapidly as you look up at her, her jaw tense as she lets out one last groan. The muscles in her back tense up as your fingers trace small circles on her skin, and she begins to move away.

"Stay... don't move, please?" You whisper, pleading with her. Wanda sighs and gives in, too tired to move. Your heart races as you replay her words over and over again in your mind.

You bring your other hand up, stroking her brown strands of hair that splayed across the two of you and closed your eyes. Wandas arms wrap tightly underneath you as she rests her head in the crook of your neck.

She had never let you hold her like this before, touch her like this. You knew what she said was true. Her words were not just words spoken lightly. Maybe she hadn't meant to say it then, but you knew she loved you. You knew she would never let you go, even if you didn't love her back.

But you did. With all of your mind, body, and soul. Everything that you were, are, and will be.

More than you loved the special bottle of red that sat on the counter, more than the feeling of a paintbrush in your hand, more than I Love Lucy, more than counting to four.

Wandas breathing slows against your neck, her body fully relaxed as you caress her. You had never seen or felt her so at ease before.

"I love you..." You whisper as you hear soft snores fall from her lips.

It doesn't take long for you to fall asleep after, the sounds of her quiet snores and slow breathing along with the comforting weight of her body on top of yours, lull you to sleep.

Dreaming, hoping, there was a way Wanda would give in to you.

To let the game fade away.

But when you awake in the morning, you're alone on the couch. A blanket covers your naked body, hopes and dreams fading away into reality.

Wanda was gone, and the worst part was you knew she would be back, out of reach again.

You give yourself a moment on the couch, only a moment to cry, before wiping your tears and shaking the sounds of her soft snores out of your mind. The way her body melted into yours as your hearts beat insync, the way she kissed you lovingly, the words "I love you" slipping from her lips in a desperate, intimate moment. It was all a game, after all.

The wine glasses and popcorn bowl were missing from the coffee table. Curious, you wrap the blanket around your body and walk to the kitchen. The dishes were clean and sitting on the drying rack. It was then you saw on the counter a glass of water and a bottle of your medication along with a paper and pen. You slowly pick up the paper, an old receipt you had lying around, and read the note:

I'll be back later with some boxes. Don't forget to take your medicine.

The curved letters tug at your heartstrings, the next lines causing another spark to ignite in your chest.

I love you

If the game was still afoot, Wanda was winning, because you were utterly and irrevocably hers.

***

October 2019

In the sunlit room, you stood in front of a canvas, wooden brush in hand. Each stroke, movements precise and deliberate, guided by a vision taking form in your mind. You inhale the scent of oil paint as you take some more on your brush before leaning in, adding intricate detail to breathe life into your creation. Time seems to stop as you lose yourself to the creative side of your brain.

You don't hear the creak of the door opening, or feel Wandas gaze on you as she stands in the doorway, admiring you.

The large button down you wore loosely was covered in paint, a work of art in itself from all the leftover paint of paintings you had done. You hummed along to the music, playing softly behind you, tongue between your teeth and brows scrunched together as you concentrated on the small details.

Wanda can't help the crooked smile on her face as she takes in the sight of you in your element. Her heart pounding out of her chest as you brush a piece of fallen hair out of your face. She walks closer, setting her hands on your waist.

You gasp at her touch, the feeling of her nose tickles your ear as she kisses your neck.

"Baby.. you scared me," you giggle and rest a hand on top of hers, leaning back against her.

There it was again, that feeling Wanda would never get used to. The feeling that wanted to drop her to her knees right there and whisper devotions between your legs, something she did more often since you had moved in with her.

"I got tired of watching," Wanda jokes, a rumble in her chest as she laughs. You turn yourself in her arms, resting your hands on her chest.

"I don't mind you watching... but I prefer you touching," you whisper the last part sinfully, the word darkening Wandas emerald eyes. She picks you up easily, you squeal with excitement, and wrap your legs around her waist.

And there on the floor, in the room Wanda had transformed into your art studio, she whispered those devotions against your skin and between your legs.

You lay on the cloth tarp that covered the floor underneath your canvas, drawing patterns on the skin of Wandas stomach. You turn in her arm to look at her.

A jaw sculpted by God, green eyes blessed by the angels, and a smile gifted from the Devil.

The sun shines on her face, highlighting smudges of green paint on her cheek. You giggle and let your fingers travel to the colored paint stripes spread across her body, a handprint on her shoulder.

"You're my favorite work of art," you murmur to her, feeling her thumb brush the paint on your hips. She smiles, your favorite crooked smile.

"Little mouse?" Wanda asks, her voice low and calm as she stares into your eyes.

"Yes, baby?"

"Marry me.."

And it's not a question, it's a statement. A declaration. You didn't need a moment to think, because you already knew you were hers, forever.

"Yes," you say anyways, nodding your head. Wandas' smile widens, and she lifts you on top of her, kissing you the best she could without letting her smile go.

***

Christmas Day 2021

The snow crunches under Wandas' boots as she watches you walk from the kitchen to the living room, a towel on your shoulder. Your hands fumbled with something unseen, hidden from her view. Your brows furrowed in concentration, and you shook your head, mumbling something to yourself.

And then you looked up and saw her. The widest smile overcame your face. You radiated pure joy.

Wandas' heart sped up at the sight of you as she carried wood and walked towards the front door.

"Reminiscing, kitty?" You purr as you greet her at the door with a kiss and a hug, she hums against your lips.

"You don't miss it, little mouse?" Wanda chuckles and kisses your jaw, the wood dropping to the floor.

"Not when I have all this..." You sigh happily as she kisses down your neck, her hands moving under your shirt.

A cry from the other room interrupts the moment.

"Mm, those boys always know when to start, don't they?" She mumbles, "I knew when I heard twins, they would be trouble."

Wanda hears a radiant laugh escape your lips, and she gives you a crooked smile in return. You cup her face in your hands, the ring on your fourth finger on the left hand is cool against her cheek.

"I loved you then, and I love you even more now, Wanda.." you whisper, breath fanning against her face.

"I love you even more, little mouse.." she says softly, giving you one last kiss before walking into the living room, your hand in hers.

#marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #wanda x fem!reader #elizabeth olsen #dark wanda x reader

618 notes · View notes

augustinewrites · 11 months

Note

you should absolutely add naoya to the story!!!! i would LOVE some drama between gojo and that loserrrr i just know they hate each other so MUCH

useful context for this fic can be found in three conditions!

"'salt to taste,'" satoru reads, already confused. "what the hell does that even mean?"

tuesdays are always his day to cook dinner - meaning the second you smell something burning, you kick him out of the kitchen to take over - but you'd left about left twenty minutes ago to pick the kids up from karate, so he's on his own.

shrugging, he pours a questionable amount of salt into the bowl of vegetables he's been attempting to season.

after tossing in the rest of the spices, the next step is to cook over medium-high heat. so he flicks the stove on, leaning against the counter as he waits for the pan to heat up.

that's when a knock sounds at the door.

he doesn't move, hoping whoever it is just gives up and goes away. he wasn't expecting any guests, and the backup food he'd ordered shouldn't be arriving for another half hour.

but whoever it is bangs on the door this time, clearly impatient and wanting to get on his nerves.

huffing, he flicks the stove off and stomps to the door, yanking it open.

"you've gotta be fucking kidding me."

"still as uncouth as ever, i see," naoya zenin scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"and you're still as ugly as i remember," he fires back. "no wait— uglier."

that gets the reaction satoru's hoping for, naoya scowling as he says. "seems the rumours are true. my dear relative's run away to become a gojo whore."

satoru barely manages to keep his hands off the blond's throat, because killing him would start an all out war with the zen'ins, and he isn't ready to make waves (yet).

it wouldn't take much force to just put his head through the wall, would it?

"just tell me what you want so i can say no," he says instead, voice fighting to remain steady.

god, he hates the smug look on his face as he asks, "how much do you want?"

"excuse me?"

"how much do you want," he repeats slowly, as if he were talking to a particularly stupid animal. "for her. and the fushiguro boy."

it takes satoru a moment to realize what exactly he's asking for, the request so outlandish that he can hardly believe it. "how much do i— you're insane."

he goes to slam the door, but naoya is quick to catch it.

"it's only right that they should be with their family, don't you think?"

"and that's you?"

"if we're being sentimental about it, yes."

"well, they're not for sale," he says firmly, removing his sunglasses and tucking them into his pocket. every molecule of restraint is quickly leaving his body. "nor will they ever be. now leave."

stupid as he is, naoya senses the thinly veiled threat and turns on his heel, satoru keeping his eyes trained on him until he disappears down the hall.

_____

"naoya stopped by."

"what did he want?" you ask, lips already pulled down into a frown as you take another dish to dry.

"you and megumi."

"of course he does," you sigh, setting the plate aside and resting your palms on the counter "they want ten shadows."

"what are we going to do?" he asks seriously. "what if next time they don't ask?"

"there's not much we can do right now," you tell him grimly. "it’s the zen’in clan, satoru. we just need to keep our heads down and focus on getting megumi into jujutsu tech. at least he won't be so vulnerable with all of us around—”

“hey, hey,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead to yours. “i’m not going to let anything happen to you both. you know that, right?”

“i know,” you smile, kissing the tip of his nose. “that’s why i’m not suggesting we’ve halfway across the world.”

“that’s not a bad idea. we could move somewhere hot and tropical. i’d get to see you in a swimsuit almost everyday…”

“you’d get sunburnt,” you correct, laughing as he nudges his face into the crook of your neck.

“i’d happily let myself get sunburnt if it meant you were safe,” he murmurs into your skin. “the kids would probably eviscerate me if i let anything happen to you.”

“of course they would. they’d starve otherwise.”

#gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #keeping up with the fushigojos

2K notes · View notes

ghouljams · 2 months

Note

Me with regular Konig: baby boy. Baby. Let me pay him on the head and call him a good boy.

Me with fae! Konig: nasty. Nasty horrid man. Mangy alley cat. He has fleas all over. Give him a bath.

Me with Regency! Konig: Whore.

It's funny to me that Konig in the fae AU - as the "ultimate predator" - would have no reason to growl.

In the animal kingdom, an animal that growls wants to scare you away. An animal that doesn't growl wants to kill you.

Why alert your prey of your attack? Animals only really growl to scare away another animal instead of fighting it so they can conserve energy: Snakes hiss and rattle so they don't have to use up all their venom and be left vulnerable for another attack while they use valuable energy to produce more. Animals growl to scare predators away if they think they can't win the fight or don't want to get seriously wounded in the fight.

Konig would have no reason to doubt his ability to win a fight. Konig would have no reason to worry about conserving energy, he can find food easily. Konig would have no reason to fear being wounded because who could touch him?

And it makes sense that Konig wouldn't want to scare away those he wants gone, it's more efficient, easier, and more logical to kill them, that way they can't come back.

You know why he would growl? To impress a mate.

I mean, if he can't kill someone (however temporarily he'll let them live) lest he risk being banned again he can still make a show of it. Mate doesn't let him show how strong he is through his normal methods? Look, even these magical beings are scared of a measly little growl.

He would enjoy showboating I think too. How deep and rumbling his growl can be. Using his vocalisations to express other feelings as well.

You've also mentioned him enjoying the hunt with Libeling and stalking her without much noise but letting her be aware of his presence so she can feel at ease and he gets the thrill of the hunt. Which would tie into how he wants to respect her and wants her to see him and appreciate his strengths but not necessarily fear him too much.

I think it would be cute that during their first couple meetings Konig growls and Liebling of course assumes it's him throwing his weight around or trying to scare her and is upset. Whereas poor Konig is shellshocked because he didn't even mean to growl it just happened. For the first time in... Ever? Maybe?

He growled because he knows Liebling wouldn't like how else he deals with problems - why is he changing his behaviour for a human? He growled because he wanted to impress her - when was the last time he ever had to try to impress? He growled because for the first time in aeons he wants to communicate with another being - he's so used to wanting to maim and kill and hunt that he mistook the intense feelings as the same instincts he always had but were they something more?

Liebling, angry: Did you just growl at me?!

Konig, dumbfounded: did I just growl at you?

Just, Liebling angry at Konig while Konig is having an existential crisis.

Regency König is a WHORE.

Fae!König absolutely has no reason to growl. He has no reason to do a lot of things that he does in the modern age, he only does them because it helps him blend in. König has extremely weak magic, the man can use it but he's not adept wit it, he only taps because it helps him look more fae. He didn't growl until he met Liebling, because she considers it more polite than just ripping people to shreds.

König's natural noise is something more akin to clicking. Sort of like the Predator, but I also think of it like mandible clicks, something reverberating and distinctly inhuman. He's based off of a mammalian predators, but I don't think he made normal mammal sounds for a LONG time. Speech is sort of new to him, same with disguising himself. This is why he tends to lose control of his form when he's not paying attention to it(thank God for Liebling being a monster fucker).

You're dead on the money that König respects Liebling and wants her to see his power without fearing him. He has a huge amount of respect for her, not only because she's the only person that stands up to him, but also because she's incredibly smart and self sufficient. König loves how much she doesn't need him or want him, she has no desire for his power and so he has no issue giving it to her.

I think he growls for Liebling because he truly sees her as his better, as the one person that can match truly him. There are a lot of firsts from König in his relationship with Liebling, and a lot of confusing feelings that he's never really had before. Lust, sure, but love? Nope.

"Did you growl at me?" You try to fix the disbelieving glare on your face, your cup of tea half raised. König stares at you like he doesn't believe it either.

"Did I?" He asks, as if that will get him out of this.

He didn't mean to growl at you. The rumble in his throat had just slipped out. Something deep and aggressive had taken hold of him, something warm in the pit of his stomach. You eye him suspiciously, glaring over the rim of your cup. König can't offer an explanation. He hasn't made that sound before. There's no reason to warn anyone of his teeth, if they can see them it's already too late. But you...

You glance at the people passing by, enjoying the sunshine, the weather nice enough to sit outside your favorite bakery after work. Your lashes dust against your cheeks when you blink, your skin looking warmer for all the sunshine. You're close enough to see his teeth and yet you're not running scared. You've seen them, and you still sit across from him, still turn your attention away from him, your bare neck on display with all the trust in the world. You're so lovely.

The sound bubbles again, a reverberating growl in his throat that pitches down, attempting to escape lower. You glare at him from the corner of your eye and turn to face him.

"What?" You question, spit it like a swear as you set your cup down. König blinks, sits back in his seat, straightens to sit taller. He doesn't know. He has no reason to warn you of anything, no plans on eating you. He doesn't even growl at the fae unlucky enough to get caught in his claws. What threat could you possibly pose to him that he needs to warn you away? What energy does he need to conserve? His teeth don't run out of bite, his claws still rip and tear, he is as much the monster he always has been, and you are still small and soft comparatively.

"Nothing," He tells you, because truly there is nothing. He doesn't know what there might be to make him do this. "You're beautiful," he offers instead. Compliments always make you look away from him, and this time is no different. You press your hand against your cheek, leaning against the edge of the table and turning away from him. He can almost hear the blood rushing to your cheeks, feel the pout of your lips against his hand.

The sound settles lower now, rumbling in his chest pleasantly with the contraction of his lungs. It thrums through his vocal cords, and against his tongue, as soft as the curl of your fingers. You don't look at him this time, seem to try and twist further out of his view. Something sparking like recognition in your eyes. König tips his head to study you, brows drawing together.

Is it concern that flutters in his stomach? Is it aggression that clenches hot in his chest? Does he growl at you because you're so much greater a threat than he is?

"You're purring," You mumble, voice muffled by your hand, "it's embarrassing."

You say that, but all your lovely spider-silk tethers glow a pleasant gold, and König's heart beats a little faster.

#cod x reader #x reader #x oc #cod x oc #könig x reader #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #konig cod #konig x reader #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #fae!König #1fae1 #long post #meta meta meta

274 notes · View notes

iwritenarrativesandstuff · 2 months

Text

On Kurapika's Self-Imposed Isolation

While I recognize that probably everything I'm about to say is going to be super obvious, I just wanted to briefly touch on Kurapika's self-isolation, and the reason behind his not picking up his phone or exchanging anything more than clipped words and business after Yorknew.

I think the obvious answer is that Kurapika doesn't want his friends in harms way, or to be used as a bargaining tool against him. This is an understandable and probably accurate conclusion. After all, Gon and Killua did get taken hostage, and Kurapika was forced to negotiate an exchange. Chrollo picked up on Kurapika's "weakness" right away - that he values his friends' safety before his revenge. Fortunately for Kurapika in this situation, Pakunoda was a whole lot more similar to him than he would've cared to admit, as she placed a value on Chrollo's life even though everyone in the Spider was intended to be replaceable. So, now that he's been through Gon and Killua having potentially gotten killed or seriously hurt, and Chrollo knows that he has a soft spot for them, it does make sense that he would try to push them away for their safety and for the sake of not having an exploitable "weakness" in future. He may also not want to burden them more when they have their own lives to live - he does slip off without telling Gon and Killua for the sake of not distracting them from Nen training, after all.

Except that he already tried all this earlier in Yorknew arc. He tried to tell them they shouldn't get involved, and they all agreed that the risks were massive - but his friends agreed to undergo the risks anyways to help him. Kurapika was even grateful for it - "I have been blessed with good friends."

So, for him to push them away solely for this reason after the fact, knowing that this was very much a likely situation to happen, is a little odd to me. Kurapika knows full well that Leorio would be frustrated, Killua would be offended and Gon would worry. So, I think there's a little more to it than that, and I actually would venture to say that "keeping his friends out of danger" is more a secondary reason for his actions - one that would come across as more of a reasonable excuse to others.

The primary reason is likely a lot more selfish than that. Kurapika has to ensure his mission comes first. And unfortunately, he is fully aware that his path and choice in abilities is deeply self-destructive.

Kurapika needs to make sure that he doesn't have exploitable weaknesses, sure, but he also just as much needs to purposefully worsen his headspace - and he can't do that with those three around.

Think back, what are the happiest moments we see from Kurapika in the series? The one that comes to mind first, and the one I'm sure most of us will think of immediately, is this:

[ID: A screenshot from the 2011 anime adaptation. Kurapika smiles - he looks at ease. End ID.]

It's one of the sweetest scenes of the series imo, right before the whole group is reunited for the first time since the Zoldyck Family arc, and it's even more notable because it comes immediately on the tail end of this...

[ID: Three panels from HxH Chapter 101. Kurapika removes his contacts over the sink. His expression is distant. End ID.]

...and this...

[ID: A panel from HxH Chapter 101. A close up of Kurapika's vacant and furious expression, his eyes wide and dangerous as he says "It might as well be you." Though the art is in black and white, it's apparent his eyes have gone scarlet. End ID.]

...and this.

[ID: A panel from HxH Chapter 101. A distant Kurapika speaks on the phone on a rooftop at night, the cityscape of Yorknew around him dark, but speckled with lights and stars. He says "The Spiders are dead." His face is not visible to the reader. End ID.]

This is, up to this point in the series, Kurapika at his lowest. In contrast to Gon, who is happy to hear that the Spiders are dead already because now Kurapika can focus solely on finding his peoples' eyes, Kurapika... is clearly not happy - and that's because killing the Spiders himself isn't just revenge. It's penance. It's survivor's guilt. Kurapika's powers, which Izunavi even comments sound much like he is chaining himself in the process of chaining his enemies, are oh-so-beautifully prophecied to destroy him - and Kurapika was aware of this from the moment he set off down this path of revenge.

(As a side note, this is why I'm really hoping we see Gon and Kurapika interact again after the Chimera Ant arc - while Gon has always been pretty attentive to Kurapika's emotional state, in Yorknew, he lacks a true understanding of why Kurapika would go so far... but as of now, he understands rage fueled by guilt and grief all too well. I know we're all rooting for Leorio to reach Kurapika, but barring that, I really think Gon could get through to him - after all, they are similar in several ways, and I find it fairly apparent that Gon reminds Kurapika of Pairo.)

But back to the main point here - I do suspect Kurapika expects (if not wants) his revenge mission to destroy him. I think a lot of times, we forget just how young Kurapika is, and how much his character is dictated by honour, and the abandonment of it.

Certainly, he can and will go against his principles for the sake of his mission... yet, almost paradoxically, he's bound to his promise to his fallen clan; a promise to avenge them made in anger.

But Kurapika... doesn't come across as a naturally angry person to me at all.

He seems like the stoic, vengeful type on his initial introduction... and then we get his panic at Gon's recklessness

[ID: A panel from HxH Chapter 2. Kurapika and Leorio wear matching expressions of panic in front of Gon, calling him out for his recklessness. End ID.]

...and his near-immediate forgiveness of Leorio after getting the first inkling of his character - of someone who cares just as fiercely as he does.

And after that point? Almost all through the Hunter Exam? Kurapika smiles so readily at them. He's sharp and funny. He mediates at times, but is stubbornly prideful in others. He's very amused by his friends' antics, and it really does seem like he starts to enjoy himself, with them. And, more than that, he counters Leorio's initial impression of him as an independent loner - on several occasions. He decides to follow Gon because Gon intrigues him. Asides from Gon, it is Kurapika who is the most unwilling to fight each other at the bottom of Trick Tower. Kurapika who makes the first move to team up with Leorio, even though that arrangement benefits Leorio much more than it does him. Kurapika who refuses to abandon Leorio to his fate in the cave, and who checks on Gon after noticing his bad mood. Who was furious enough watching him get beat down by Hanzo that his eyes went scarlet for the first and only instance outside of Spider mentions and Emperor Time. Who quite readily detoured to help rescue Killua.

[ID: Three screenshots from the 2011 adaptation Hunter Exam arc. In the first, Kurapika smiles at a sleeping Leorio. In the second, Kurapika stifles laughter as he pretends he's asleep. In the third, Kurapika has an open-mouthed smile as he acquires the airship tickets for them, Leorio and Gon standing behind him. End ID.]

Look at him! He's so bright! So happy!

...too happy. Too happy to do what he promised himself he would do. And that's his biggest fear, isn't it. Without his rage... what is he left with?

[ID: A panel from HxH chapter 2. A close up of Kurapika's eye as he says "I do not fear death. What I fear is that my rage will one day fade away." End ID.]

Kurapika is far, far less mired in anger when he's with his friends. I actually dare to say that at certain points, he was able to go for lengths of time without thinking much about it - alternating between almost forgetting in one instance and being hit like a sledgehammer on exposure to a reminder in the next. This violent swing is... actually the beginnings of the natural process of healing from loss and trauma. But to Kurapika, who's made a promise to his people's memories, this is not a relief. This is betrayal.

I think that actually scares him, that he can almost picture it. A life beyond his guilt. That he, too, could learn to be happy, even after unimaginable loss.

And so, as Kurapika continues his mission offscreen, finding more and more gruesome reminders of the cruelty inflicted on his people and losing more and more pieces of himself in the process (in his own words, no less), he prioritizes his responsibility to them, and pushes away his distractions. He cannot be a soul at peace until his work is done; he must be in turmoil. He pushes people away who he cares for, and binds himself, and keeps his people's eyes on him, quite literally, because respite, for him, is unacceptable. Perhaps that guilty part of him even hopes, by the end of this, that his soul will be so unrecognizable as to be fundamentally unsalvageable. But the truth of the matter is, or at least what comes across to me, is that Kurapika cares much more fiercely than he hates. He knows what matters most. And for as long as he does, he still hasn't truly lost himself.

[ID: A panel from HxH chapter 350. Kurapika looks down at baby Woble with a gentle, yet complicated expression. The inking is somewhat softer. End ID.]

Kurapika's soul is kind, really. And it wants to heal - but for the sake of his mission, he needs it damaged and bleeding. And so, he forces himself to exist in that pain. All alone.

[ID: A panel from HxH Chapter 344. Kurapika, dressed in a black suit, sits with his back to the reader, looking down at a photo in his hand. He is slumped a little before the church vigil he has prepared, all his clan's eyes lined up in their jars and honoured with flowers and candles. He thinks to himself "There is no home for me to return to... and nobody to welcome me back. I have nothing left." End ID.]

#thank you for coming to my ted talk on how kurapika is worsening his own mental health as well as physical health on purpose have a good day #oh my god this took me so long but it was worth it!!!#actual analysis!!! it's been so long!!!#anyways i'm far shakier on my hxh knowledge than other fandoms i've written meta for #so i hope this makes sense. i appreciate additions to it just please be polite!#i also believe that togashi's writing lends itself to multiple interpretations that are equally valid. so much of this #may be my own takeaway. but i do think there's enough evidence to support it #well. i hope you guys suffer... i mean enjoy.#storyrambles #hunter x hunter #hxh #hxh meta #kurapika #call me ace detective the way i am ace. and also a detective #<-analysis tag i missed you

253 notes · View notes

beastofburdenxo · 3 months

Text

Consider It Done

Tommy kidnaps his biggest enemy's daughter as payback. But, things aren't always what they seem.

Allusions of violence, mention of abuse, no smut.

You woke up in what looked like a dreary basement. Your throat was dry, and your head felt funny. All you remember is just walking down the street and having a wet rag being shoved over your face from behind. Assuming that it was chloroform, because you were knocked out immediately after that.

You hear a door being opened and someone walking down the stairs. For some reason, you dash into a dark corner, thinking that it was going to save you. An oil lamp is turned on, illuminating the space and the man before you. "There you are love, glad to see you up and alert." A cigarette is lit. "Would you like a smoke?" You ignore the question altogether and respond with one of your own. "Who are you? Where am I?"

"My name is Thomas shelby Love, but you can call me Tommy. I hate meeting like this. It's nothing personal, really, just business. Your father owes me money and isn't taking me seriously, so I did what I had to do."

Your eyes bug out at this information. Of course, your asshole father has made another enemy. And the feared Tommy shelby, the devil of small heath, at that. "And you think taking me will loosen him up? He'd rather die than give up anything of his. To him, people are replaceable, money not so much. I'm sorry that you put in so much work to get me, but honestly, he's probably glad I'm out of his hair."

"Is that right? What a shame that is." Tommy draws off his cigarette. "Such a pretty thing, kidnapped and taken to the devil's mansion, thrown in a basement never to be seen again. Surely he loves you more than that, dear."

"The man killed all of my pets when I refused to marry one of his gross friends. He has burned my clothes before, locked me out of the house. Trust me, Tommy, he doesn't care. He has never liked me and I don't know why."

"You are like a wild horse that can't be broken, and your father can't stand it. You won't bend to his will like most and from where I'm standing, it's like you are his enemy and not his daughter. I'd take it as a compliment. If he liked you, that would mean that you two are similar. I have no desire to harm you, I'll behave if you do. Give it a couple of days, and if he doesn't budge, you are free to go. I'll even give you money for a ticket anywhere you want to go."

You think for a moment. "So you don't want to hurt me? You'd rather help me out?"

Tommy nods, "I see a lot of myself in you. In fact, you promise to be good, I'll let you out of here and into the house. Take it as a mini vacation, time to think. If your father does pay up, you'll still get that ticket out if you'd like. Regardless of what he does or doesn't do, it won't affect you."

You reach for a cigarette, and Tommy obliges. "I can't just leave my mom alone with his ass. He's mean to her too, Tommy. He needs to pay for his sins sooner rather than later."

Tommy chuckles, "You'd make one hell of a peaky blinder. Fiesty and headstrong. Are you looking for a new job, perhaps?"

"Tommy, I'm serious," you reply, "I'd say my mom would give anything for him to be gone. If you took care if it, you'd get your money and then some. It would have to be discreet of course."

"Kidnap victim asking her kidnapper to put a hit out on her own father? That's a new one for me, love. It does sound tempting, I will say. Never had much use for an abusive wife beater."

You stand up with a new sense of purpose. "Either you do it, or when I get out, l will do it myself!"

Tommy comes towards you like he's going to grab you, but he stops himself from touching you. "No, I can't have that. There's no need for an innocent to have blood on her hands. If you aren't successful, he will kill you, love. He won't think twice about it."

Tommy finally reaches out and gently stokes your face, "I don't want the fire to go out of your pretty eyes. Killing a man does that to a person, and you don't deserve that. If you want it done, consider it done. Consider yourself a partner in this and not a helpless victim. My only wish is that once this is all over, I can see you again. With permission, this time, of course. Let me do things the right way. Dinner?"

"Kidnapper asking his victim to dinner once she is released? That's a new one for me Tommy."

You take the cigarette from his mouth, since yours is long gone, and take a drag as if to think about it.

"Consider it done."

#tommy shelby #cillian murphy #peaky blinders #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader

236 notes · View notes

llamagoddessofficial · 7 months

Note

Hey, how would the siren guys react to a whale shark mc? Heheee, :0 (whale shark face) fella

HEEEE

Sans: Since whale sharks are filter feeders, she's technically a mermaid!

I imagine that a whale shark Mc is incredibly chill and relaxed. She's very big, very beautiful, and very friendly... adult whale sharks don't really have anything to fear, so she's easygoing and sweet-natured with pretty much everyone.

She thinks he's handsome, and very smart. Orca would only pose a realistic threat to her if they approached in a big group, but he's alone- she's not even slightly worried. She asks him about life as a predator, his adventures around the world, she dreams of seeing the poles but she's not built for staying in cold water. He entertains her with stories of the arctic.

... Sans isn't used to encountering mermaids who aren't terrified of him. He isn't used to encountering sirens who aren't terrified of him. She talks to him like he's a normal person, engages with him... it actually makes him less insane and murderous, as it's the first time he's been treated like a person since his pod died. He naturally becomes deeply attached to her... she's delighted he wants to keep her company and she welcomes his presence. They're 'best friends' that travel around together. It's good that she's a filter feeder, because though he'd absolutely kill for her, he has no need to.

Red: Red loves a big beautiful lady. This is one of the fundamental laws of the universe. The bigger the better- and she's literally the biggest shark out there. What's not to love? He's head over heels. His only regret is that they can't seriously play fight, because she could probably snap him in half. That's hot- but it would be inappropriate in public.

She loves his attention. Sure, Sans is handsome, but... well, Red is literally the ideal by shark standards. Being a filter feeder doesn't make her resistant to his scars, his teeth, his charms. She giggles when he calls her majestic, she flushes when he says he'd like to sightsee coral reefs with her. But she doesn't really take his flirting seriously. She thinks he'd want a girlfriend who's more aggressive, an apex like him- someone with more 'bite'. She's seen how feisty female tiger sharks are. She's not like that.

Sans is absolutely seething that this asshole is trying to steal his girlfriend. They're regularly at each other's throats when her back is turned. It's very easy for her to break up their fights, though, since she physically overpowers them both.

Skull: Pretty similar to Sans, in respect to Mc being sweet and friendly has the dual effect of calming him down but also driving him kinda wild for her. Whale sharks do occasionally make dives to deeper water, so it makes sense their paths would cross.

He's enraptured. She's like a big, friendly angel, her pattern is literally rays of sun. He wants to be near to someone who isn't afraid of him. He's a little heartbroken he can't bring her food gifts, since they don't eat the same way, but pebbles still work. And he's deeply impressed by how much plankton/krill she can eat in one go.

Though the difference between them isn't as intense as it is with leaf sheep Mc, she's still a very pelagic creature, and he's a very NOT pelagic creature. She's fascinated by his completely alien, deep-sea biology. Lots of her being delighted by his light shows.

#llamagines #siren sanses #mc breaks up a fight between red and sans by grabbing their arms and literally pulling them apart #red makes everything worse by saying “harder”#days since sans has tried to tear out red's liver: 0

683 notes · View notes

oreo-oro-orero · 4 months

Text

I honestly think that Ekko's trauma is often overlooked or outright pushed aside and ignored by a large section of the Arcane fandom.

Now this does make sense to some degree, Ekko is a side character so it makes sense why he's not as discussed as the main characters of the show but it feels like even as a side character he is often cast aside.

It feels like everyone analyzes every other character thoroughly and for good reason, these are very multi-layered characters but it also feels like with Ekko they barely even give him a side glance and when they do talk about his hurt it seems like they only extend to Jinx. While Jinx is a very large piece of it (seriously they have a whole other thing going on) she definitely is not the only thing lingering on in his mind. I mean he saw his basically uncle get killed in front of him, he is the leader of a resistance group and he also basically lost his entire family in one night, like have you seen the bags under his eyes, that boy is stressed out but it feels like these aspects of his character are ignored by the community.

Honestly his treatment within the fandom mirrors what a lot of black people go through our trauma and hurt is brought up. It is either brushed aside or outright ignored with it often being countered with "that was a long time ago" and this is especially seen with little black girls and boys. The fandom analyzes almost everything within the show from full blown characters to little background details but yet Ekko is often left out of the equation in these discussions and it just makes me a little bit annoyed.

Ekko also suffers from what a lot of other black characters in media do which is the almost bad faith criticisms or misinterpreted thrown them. It feels like a lot of black characters are held up to a standard that no other character gets held too and where their actions are taken in the most negative light on purpose. I haven't seen this that much but I have seen it a handful of times, where people will villainize Ekko and say that he is "getting in the way" of Zaun's liberation which is wild because Ekko out of everyone in the show is the only person that positively effects Zaun and it's people. You even see this in shipping where Ekko is label an abuser or aggressive.

Overall I know this probably doesn't really matter and most of the fandom probably likes Ekko but I just wanted to vent a little bit 😭 and I just hope in S2 they flesh out his character and that the fandom starts to take more notice of him.

Thanks to @letters-to-rosie for helping me think about this more.

#timebomb #ekko #ekko arcane #arcane #ekko league of legends

254 notes · View notes

cursedvida · 5 days

Note

It's really crazy to me to see the hate Mae gets, like I was reading some reviews and I can understand not liking a character but as soon as they start with the name calling their opinion is invalid to me because they have no reason to be calling her a bitch, among other things, like it just reeks of mysogyny, (it's like they just want an excuse to call women names) and seeing it coming from other girls makes it worse like..

"Oh the girl was such a bitch why did she do that 🙄" ..is it really that hard to think for a moment about the circumstances in which mae was raised?? Do they need it spell it out for them?? Like, c'mon guys do you really think that the people trapped in a bunker for generations have anything nice to teach/say about the apes?? Wes Ball please give us Mae's backstory in the sequel!! Your audience needs it bc they are out there calling Mae the real villain and saying Proximus was right 💀 (when he was literally everything Caesar hated in an ape)

Look, I'm usually a polite person when expressing my opinions, but I'm fed up with the hate towards Mae, basically because the arguments people give seem incredibly basic to me, typical of people with little to no understanding. Sometimes I doubt if these people have watched the same movie as me or maybe they have some sort of cognitive dissonance, but seriously, I find them ridiculous. Either that, or they are basically the typical comments from misogynistic guys or women with internalized misogyny who can't stand morally gray and questionable female characters.

And well, having said that, I'm going to present my doctoral thesis on this topic:

One of the things I've seen the most is people saying that Mae is evil, the true villain, or an ungrateful traitor to Noa. This argument seems quite incomprehensible to me because, even though we don't have much data about her, I believe there's something very important that explains why she acts as she does: the Proximus apes killed the people in her group, including her mother. I mean: her damn mother. If we add to that the UNDERSTANDING (I mean, you have to be very short-minded not to assume something so obvious) that she has been raised in an environment where they've probably told her all her life that the apes are the reason for all the evils of humanity and the main reason why humans live in shitty conditions, I think anyone with half a brain has enough information to understand why she does what she does.

Yes, Noa is a good guy, but he's not helping her. Noa and Mae have a common goal and decide to ally themselves momentarily to achieve that goal, which is to reach Proximus. As much as they've formed a bond throughout the story, it's not yet strong enough for Mae to set aside what she has worked for so hard. Mae not only bears the weight of humanity on her shoulders but also emotionally carries the idea that she, as the sole survivor of her group, must complete the mission at all costs. Are those who criticize her telling me that if they truly thought that with certain actions they could not only save their species but also honor their loved ones who have been killed infront their eyes, they wouldn't do them? And that they wouldn't do them for someone they've just met, no matter how much they like them? That's just not realistic, it makes no sense. We would all do the same as Mae in her situation. I mean, I have no doubts.

Another thing I love is when they say she's the "true villain" as if it weren't clear enough that she feels bad every time since she forms a bond with Raka and Noa when she does something that she knows may harm them. She feels pain for Raka's death and clearly, you can also see the conflict and remorse when she detonates the bomb. It's not something she enjoys doing, but she HAS to do it. In the final scene, even though she's carrying a gun, you can also clearly see her in conflict with herself. Clearly, she doesn't want to kill him. Clearly, she has nothing against Noa, and this is evident when she finally accepts the necklace and they even shake hands. You can't tell me that's the attitude of a villain, narratively it's not presented as such, and seeing it that way is to have understood nothing.

Mae is a complex character whose life is based on survival, she's no different from the characters we're used to loving and idolizing in other post-apocalyptic series, the difference here for me is that she's human and humans have to be bad by default and also that she's a woman. Because female characters always have to be the support, the romantic interest, or the unconditional friends of heroic male characters, and Mae is none of that. Mae is a character with her own story and ambitions that go beyond Noa's plot. Mae has her own plot, and it seems that's something that bothers people a lot.

I'm sorry, but the hate towards Mae seems very similar to the one people had for Sansa Stark in Game of Thrones, which basically stemmed from people being misogynistic and hating complex and imperfect female characters, combined with how much they hate seeing protagonist characters with such human and real characteristics that they can't bear the idea of seeing themselves reflected in them.

But hey, for Sansa Stark, I would have killed, and now for Mae too. Mae haters basically DNI

#i’ve been very intense #but sorry i’m such a scorpio with a scorpio’s classic rage #i would kill for her #mar my bb #kingdom of the planet of the apes #planet of the apes #kotpota #kotpota mae #kotpota noa #mae #freya allan

155 notes · View notes

twisted-wonderland-but-gayer · 11 months

Note

Hello there. I've seen your blog for a while but I'm finally requesting. What about a male yuu who has the personality of someone who looked into the eyes of God and fist fought him? A yuu who will kick someone's ass for breathing the same air as him. Azul and Leona don't stand a chance.

Fighty yuu to Idia and Malleus- Oh dear. Oh dear, gorgeous

Fighty yuu to everyone else- You fuckin donkey. *beats them with a chair*

Fighty Yuu

Oh yeah I also made Yuu stupid strong for the memes. I did the first 3 dorms cause I ran outta ideas. He him pronouns used

Ever since you first arrived at NRC, you have given zero fucks. After all, having constant visions about coming to NRC combined with the fact that you were woken up in a mysterious world after being kidnapped had already got you on edge. What really set you off, however, was the fact that nearly everyone around you was an asshole.

No seriously, you can't even have a good relationship with someone at this school without people thinking you're weird. On top of that, there's one dorm dedicated to being "alpha males". It doesn't help that everyone's mentality here is kill or be killed and the strong should rule the weak.

It only makes sense for you to try and blend in, right?

You truly tried to pick your battles sparingly. Truly. After all, fighting everyone would be a waste of time and energy, and yet on the very first day here, you had already gotten into your first big fight.

Forced to go to some dumb cave all because a trio of dumbasses already soured your mood. On top of this, there was now some sort of monster in the mines you were now in that wants to kill you, and unlike those three idiots Deuce, Ace, and Grim, you will have nowhere to go if you get kicked outta NRC.

This is how your main friendship trio soon learned about your fighting skills and knew even better not to mess with you. They even tried joking about it with their other dorm members who just brushed it off as an exaggeration… oh how wrong they were

Heartstabyul

It took everything in you to not jump Riddle the second he started insulting you. He wasn't worth it. Not in the slightest, so when given the opportunity to finally get back at him, who were you not to take it?

"Everyone evacuate the dorm right now!" Trey yelled out, guiding dorm members out of the front with Crowley as everyone ran from cover. "What's happening?!" Grim shrieks as Riddle's visible veins start to become black, a shadowy figure looming behind him as he changes shape.

"Overblot! It's an overblot!" Cater yelps, pulling Ace and Deuce by their sleeves to guide them out. "How do we stop it?" Deuce asks as he fights against Cater's tug. "You aren't seriously thinking of fighting it are you?" Crowley practically demands. "No, I'm with Deuce, we have to save him!" Trey pleaded with the Headmage as Ace butted in. "Yeah! I'm not letting him off the hook that easy!" Cater stared at his dorm mates, closing his eyes before sighing loudly. "Oh fine! I'll guess help, cay cay?"

"Wait…" you paused, thinking for a moment. "If we knock him out we can save him," you asked, glancing over at Crowley as the wind swirls and blows harder. "Well yes essentially—" The headmage didn't get to finish his sentence.

"Yuu what the hell are you doing?!" Ace squawks as you immediately charge Riddle. You practically pummel into the dorm leader, making him stumble back before swinging, getting a few quick jabs on him. You didn't even register the insults he spewed at you as he began summoning spell after spell to fire at you, which you dodged by sliding and flipping over.

The group behind you immediately acts as support while trying to get you to calm down. The battle was over quickly, much more quickly if you decided to try Trey's plan. Once the blot left Riddle's body, Trey immediately got to his side to start healing up every single bruise on his body…

"Who has the shitty upbringing now?" "Really Yuu? Right now?" Grim glared at you. "I'm just saying!"

***

Not many dorm members were there to witness your aggression, everyone sort of just thought of it as a joke. You're magicless, right? There's no way you did that much! Yet little did they know you were just getting started.

The Unbirthday Party afterward was a pretty good success, and you did apologize to Riddle for going a little overboard. (The group with you now knows to never cross you) and was an overall pleasant experience… up until someone invites you to play croquet against them…

There were many casualties that day.

Savannaclaw

"Sorry, you can't play with us Yuu, you don't have magic shishishishi!" Ruggie cackled as you sat down on the bench. "Beat their asses for me you four" You nodded your head over at Ace, Deuce, Grim, and Jack who were now fighting for your honor, investigation be damned.

Watching the boys was depressing. The four were completely uncoordinated. Running into each other and fumbling the disk. Idiots. It was their own faults they were so competitive. Through all the running and the spells, you overheard some snide remarks from the other team. Them insulting you is disrespectful. Them dissing your boys is a violation.

Ruggie flicks the disk over to Leona, who is poised ready to catch it. Merely inches away from his casting range, you snag the disk. Almost amused, Leona smirks. "You realize you're only allowed to use magic to make the disk float, Scavenger." The smugness in his voice was beyond irritating.

To prove a point, you slammed the disk through the air, sending the disk flying across the field and into the scoring ground, creating a small crater. "I don't need magic." You sneer at the lion whose eyes were wide before he narrowed them. "Come on guys, we're wasting our time."

Walking off with your squad, you don't miss how all the all Savanaclaw students you played against, especially Ruggie, gawk as you guide your homies off. The whole way, Jack asking how the hell you did that.

"Oh hes just like that Jack, shoulda seen what he did to Riddle!" Grim beams as Jack makes a mental note not to cross you.

****

The overblot incident with Leona was solved within minutes. Leona got got.

Octavinelle

You would think that Floyd, who is surrounded by two of the most informed people on campus, would know not to mess with Yuu. Chances are, however, that even if he did know, he would have actively sought Yuu out to mess with him anyways.

Floyd smirked down at your usual trio. "Crabby… Mackerel… and Baby Seal, ehe..!" The eel chuckles, satisfied with the name he has created for your group. "And then you…" Floyd turns to you, standing there with your cafeteria tray. The eel interrupted you before you were even able to sit down.

You keep your blank and tired expression as the eel approaches you in an attempt to intimidate. "You're a weird one, huh, little prefect?" You take a step back from him, trying to create a comfortable distance between the two of you. "Floyd, don't be rude to the Ramshackle Prefect now, that's unprofessional." His brother Jade gives his usual sadistic smirk as he places his hand on his chest politely, standing next to his brother.

"Aww but Jade! I'm just trying to give 'em a name… mmm…" You took another step back. "Hehe, the way your backing up reminds me of a lil shrimp!" Floyd laughs to himself. "I think I'm gonna call you Little Shrimpy hehe!"

"Um… OK... can I go eat now dudes? I have class after this…" A mischievous glint appeared in Floyd's eyes as his grin started to show his sharp rows of teeth. "Aww little Shrimpy is trying to be tough! How cute~"

"Don't call me that." "Oya? What's that?" Jade asked, his eyes narrowing at you as he smirks. "I said stop calling me that." Jade glances over at Floyd who absolutely beams. "Oh yeah, whatcha gonna do about little shrimpy?" You gripped your cafeteria tray tighter.

The twins looked at each other, chuckling, thinking you wouldn't do anything. Floyd leans in, voice dropping lower. "Well?" And like that, you slammed your tray into the side of Floyd's head.

The entire cafeteria turned to watch as you grab onto Floyd's hair and hit his head on the cafeteria tables and dragging him across the whole thing sending food trays flying in the air. The second Floyd got back his bearing he immediately started to kick and swing. You admit he did hit you pretty good a few times.

Your grip on his hair tightened as you continued to swing at him. The people in the cafeteria cheered at the sight, many chanting fight over and over. Every time Jade tried to step in both you and Floyd pushed him away.

It took a good amount of staff and your friends to separate the two of you. Even Azul had to hold back Floyd as he snarled fiercely, thrashing in an attempt to get at you. You ended up pulling out some of his hair as you both were forced away, he nearly lost his entire black locks of hair.

The Octavinelle trio will have to keep your personality in mind when it comes to future negotiations… Azul must make sure that his right-hand men stay by him when it comes to it…

Also congratulations! You unlocked a sparring partner!

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #jack howl x reader #grim x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #cater diamond x reader #trey clover x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #wendellicious

829 notes · View notes

50shadesofrossi · 2 years

Text

Want Me

Ser Harwin Strong x Female Reader

Summary: You're Rhaenyra's lady in waiting, by her side at all times and thus leading you to spend many hours within Ser Harwin's company, drawing the two of you together

Warnings: Smut, mentioned violence, swearing, angst (if you squint), fluff

A/N: Hi, small warning, haven't written a full smut scene for a while so I'm a little rusty, but I hope you enjoy :)

"Want me to kill him?" You absentmindedly offer to Princess Rhaenyra.

She chuckles from behind you, her fellow ladies attempting to hide their smirks and smiles whilst they finish up her hair. "I know how much you crave violence, but I can not allow you to kill him. Besides, how would you even do it?"

You pause in the mirror, your eyes flickering to find Rhaenyra's. "Seduction is a woman's greatest strength." You whirl around to face her, a cruel expression etching into your face at the thought. "A simple poison into his drink and during the night he'd cease breathing and the Maestor would declare a heart attack. An easy kill, if I say so myself,"

The princess raises her eyebrows, her lips pursing together. Tonight is her name day feast, celebrating another year of her youth and thus drawing in all the potential suitors wishing to offer themselves. One of the Lannister twins made a fool of himself, offending Rhaenyra and thus resulting in you plotting his death, should your princess command it.

As her lady in waiting, you take your role very seriously. Though, you are oft referred to as her sister, the two of you becoming close at a young age and growing up together. It has solidified your relationship with her, and in turn, you know each other inside and out.

Your sharp words and cunning nature are a breath of fresh air as opposed to the customary expectations of Rhaenyra's fellow ladies.

You glance over yourself once more in the mirror, your attention spanning over the finer details of your gown and the excellent work of the seamstress. The dress accentuates your frame, the embroidery and accessories dating back to your House and heritage.

You look like a woman, a woman grown and of power.

"Are you ready?" Rhaenyra pulls you from yourself, twirling around to give you a full look at her.

"Indeed, and must I say my Princess, you look divine." You tell her honestly.

She smiles, the two of you making your way to the great hall. Heads turn at the sight of you both, the heir to seven kingdoms and her fierce lady, who would protect her more so than a knight.

Your stomach begins to twist as you near the hall, your teeth grinding together to keep the nerves at bay. You feel a reassuring squeeze on your hand, your dear friend sensing your change in behaviour.

"If he doesn't fall at your feet and beg for your hand, I'll feed him to Syrax myself," she whispers.

You bite your tongue, though a small smile creeps out. In the past moons, you've become acquainted with a knight, the two of you sharing passions and dreams. Nothing more of talk has happened thus far, but you can't help but think that maybe he will ask for your hand in marriage, as the two of you spend most days side by side.

He makes your heart beat rapidly, with the small gestures and whispered words when no one is close. Not to mention, the way he looks at you, like no one else exists but you.

Yet, you can't help but think that you're in way over your head, too consumed to see the reality.

You have no time to ponder Rhaenyra's words, as the two of you arrive at the hall, the chatter dying down instantly. Swallowing, you hold your head high, following Rhaenyra down the stairs and toward the high table where you veer off to your own.

His eyes were on you the moment you appeared, refusing to leave even as you sit down. You look absolutely breathtaking.

Of course, you avoid his gaze, even from across the room, as you begin to fill your plate. Your skin ignites under his heated stare, your desire overweighting your sense of propriety. Glancing up, you meet him, his deep blue eyes burning into your darkest depths and tearing down every wall you've ever built.

Ser Harwin Strong, renowned for his strength throughout the seven kingdoms and his proud house.

Your cheeks heat up under the intensity, neither of you daring to break contact. You admire how he's dressed, his fine threaded clothes making him look regal, his unruly curls neatly pulled back into a bun. Gods.

The grumble of your stomach brings you to your senses, your head bowing down to begin consuming your food. You feel him continue for a heartbeat longer, before he diverts his attention elsewhere.

As the night begins to progress, you drag Rhaenyra to dance, moving with the music and enjoying yourself. You change partners throughout, making yourself known and extending yourself to the other lords and ladies currently attending for the princess's name day.

For once, Harwin doesn't grace your thoughts, until he becomes your next partner.

Your eyes widen for a moment, your breath catching. "Ser-" you start, not expecting to see him.

"My lady, you look exquisite." His rasps, his body feathering your own.

His heat wraps around you like wild vines, pulling and tugging you closer, enticing you to become lost. You hit your chin out, refusing to fall prey.

"And you, good Ser,"

Harwin smiles, a hum of satisfaction rumbling within his chest. His hand brushes your own, a part of him needing to touch you, his resolve almost snapping from the softness of your flesh. His fingers itch to press firmly, to warn off any man or lord that dare think they have a chance with you.

"Are you enjoying yourself, this evening?" He asks, his lips close to your ear as to make sure you hear him over the loud music.

You turn your head, his breath fanning your cheek. Heat pools within your stomach, want gnawing at you and demanding to be free. "I'll enjoy myself once I've had my dessert," you dare.

His eyes narrow, assessing the situation. Little minx. Before he can conjure his own smart remark, a fellow knight of the city watch approaches, pulling him away from you. You watch him go without a word, a sense of humiliation washing over you as you continue to dance alone, searching for Rhaenyra.

You find her with her uncle, enjoying themselves.

Biting your lip, you move off the dance floor, standing on the sideline. You feel deflated, watching your friends enjoy themselves and even sneak out of the hall with their suitors, and your heart's deepest love couldn't even excuse himself. He just left you.

You see him, surrounded by his companions, and more so with an older woman hanging off him. Now you feel stupid, your usual confidence and ego a ghost. The woman wraps an arm around his waist, much like a partner, and him not moving.

Of fucking course, I'm just the plaything to keep him entertained whilst his lover is elsewhere.

Grinding your jaw in anger, you inhale deeply and begin to make your way through the crowd, ignoring Harwin and his group as you have to pass them to ascend the stairs out of the hall. Your hasty exit catches many people's attention, especially the one you were hoping wouldn't notice.

You don't realise he follows you, until you almost reach your quarters. His boots hit the ground harshly, as he tries to catch you, going as far as calling out your name. You pause in front of your doors, whirling around to face him once he draws near.

Fire dances within your eyes, making Harwin pause momentarily. "Ser Harwin?" You snap.

"I wanted to make sure you're well, you left in such a hurry,"

"I'm fine," you start, your thumb running over your fingers anxiously. "The hall became too much, so I'm retiring for the evening."

Harwin tilts his head. He calls bullshit. He knows you, he grew up alongside you and knows that you are one of the last to leave the party, oft enjoying yourself too much to notice the sunrise and thus requiring an escort, usually him.

He reads your body language, depicting your sudden mood change has something to do with him. He chuckles lightly, amusement etching across his features at your frustrated glare. "You're jealous."

"Jealous?!" You repeat in disbelief, your raised voice echoing the corridor. "Me? Of what?" You ask him incredulously. You naturally begin to step closer, "of that woman? Why would I be jealous of some wench when I am the Princesses lady in waiting, I can have almost any suitor I want, I have sway within these walls and no one quite realises the extent I'll go to if I'm pushed, not to mention," you stop just shy of him, your chest heaving. "One word to my Princess, and I can have whatever I want."

Harwin peers down at you, a small smirk gracing his lips at your outburst. "I never said what you were jealous of," he says lowly, almost inaudible if not for your closeness. "I'll be sure to tell my sister you think she's a wench."

Your world crashes and burns. Sister? That was his fucking sister?! Your heart ceases beating, your breath catches in your throat and your skin clams up. Realisation and dread wash over you, embarrassment etching into your cheeks. You become a wounded animal, and respond much as they do,

"Fuck you." You don't know what compels you or who takes over your body, but you can't stop the words from tumbling out and sending them straight at Harwin.

He blinks.

Quickly you spin on your heel and make haste to your door, pulling the handle to only have it slammed shut, and a large body pressing against you. Your throat constricts, feeling Harwin's entire front against your back as his hand looms over your head, keeping the door closed.

One small movement, and he could bury his nose into your hair. "Say that again," his chest rumbles, his mouth angling down to press on your ear. To make sure you hear him loud and clear.

You're frozen, your body shutting down. You open your mouth but nothing comes out. "Go on, don't go shy on me now, my lady," he presses, pushing you.

Licking your lips, you hesitantly shift on the spot, leaning your back against the door and tilting your head to hold Harwin's gaze. He pins you down, the entirety of his body caging you in, almost like a shield protecting you from peering eyes.

"Fuck you," you whisper.

Reflexively, his other hand snaps to your jaw, his fingers digging into the skin. Your lips part, your muscles relax and your body becoming a rag doll. He could very easily suffocate you like he was bunching up a piece of parchment, he wouldn't even feel your bones snap. Yet, in this very moment, your thighs press together, your garment becoming soaked with each passing second.

You know he won't hurt you. His hold on you is firm and delicate, the pads of his fingers gently holding you in place. He tilts his head, assessing you like he would an opponent, his dark eyes roaming your face and his brows twitching in thought.

You test the waters, standing straighter and in turn bumping your nose into his cheek. Harwin exhales shakily, his grip tightening if only a smidge, in comparison to his self-restraint. You nudge your nose against his, his hooded eyes following your every move.

Your breath tangles with his own, desire and hunger transpiring. Harwin's jaw clenches, his palm against the door closing into a fist. You want him, he wants you. Swallowing thickly, your lashes feather your cheeks and you take the plunge, pressing your lips against his own with uncertainty.

For a moment, you float, your body becoming weightless and your mind lost. His lips are softer than you imagined, despite his harsh reputation, soft and plump on your own. Harwin responds, before suddenly pulling you away by his grip still on your jaw.

A bucket of cold water drenches you, his sudden cold demeanour creating a crack in your heart. Not so much that he pulled you away, more how forcible it was, after he began to lose himself under the taste of you. That hurts.

Your eyes flash. You move to release yourself from his grip, but he tightens it, his head turning slightly as though to check for any movement within the corridor. With precision, he pulls you flush to his body and opens the door in one movement, shoving you inside to your quarters and locking the door behind him.

"You naïve girl," he starts, running a hand over his beard.

You scoff, creating distance between the two of you by standing at the window sill. "And they say romance is dead."

Harwin narrows at you. "You have no idea what you've just done, what if someone had seen?" His voice raises, his hand gesturing to the doors.

Confusion swirls within you at his sudden change of behaviour, at his switch from intimacy to frustration in an upsetting kind of way. "I don't see the problem," you cross your arms, raising a brow. "I want you, and I don't give a fuck what anyone else thinks."

"Well, you should!" You're taken aback by his sudden outburst, a sliver of fear creeping up your spine. "I am not good for you," he says your name with such emotion. "I have enemies at every turn, I can't be at your side protecting you every day and not to mention what would happen to your reputation-"

"My reputation?" You cut him off, your voice low in disbelief of what you're hearing. "You think I give a fuck about my reputation! About your enemies? Gods Harwin," you begin to pace, your hands running over your head and falling against your neck. "How fucking dense are you?"

He attempts to ignore the hiccup in his heart rate at the way his name rolls off your tongue. "I'm more than capable of protecting myself," you start after calming down a notch. You cross the room, standing before the brute and taking his large hands in your own. "Is it that hard to believe that I want you? That I don't care about everything else, about your history and reputation, about the fucking court gossip and your enemies? All I care about is you, your health and well-being, and that I know you'd never hurt me, physically and emotionally. I know you'd die protecting me, and you'd make me feel so loved, despite that shield you put in front of yourself every day."

Harwin brings your hands to his lips, brushing them over your delicate fingers whilst he closes his eyes, relishing in the moment. His coarse beard caresses your skin, planting the idea of how it would feel between your thighs.

He opens his mouth to speak, but you drop your hands down, beating him to it. "You want me Harwin?" your voice pulls to him, lulling him in. "I am right here, otherwise there's the door," you gesture.

Your chest clenches at the thought of him turning his back. You wonder how he could kiss you back, then cough up some bullshit about him being bad for you. It confuses and wounds you.

His lips part, the cogs turning in his head as he makes his decision. He surges forward, gently taking your head in his hands and angling you upward to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

He walks you back until you hit the pillar, careful not to slam you into it. His lips move against yours hungrily, his tongue begging for entrance and his breath meddling with your own. Your fingers curl onto the front of his jacket, squeezing out any air left between you, your fronts pressing tightly.

Your lungs burn, your actions becoming erratic as you move up to his hair, tangling his curls and removing the band keeping it back. You pull at the roots, emitting a deep groan from Harwin, his own hands gliding down your body to find refuge on your waist.

You pour all your emotions into the kiss; the hunger, lusting, anger and need. He dominates you, his mouth slowly moving down your jaw, his teeth nipping along your bone and travelling to your neck, unknowingly finding your sweet spot.

You bite your lip at the sound you release, a small sense of embarrassment flooding your body. Harwin immediately comes up, holding you still with his hard stare. "Don't you dare quieten on me."

"Like your girls loud, Ser Harwin?"

He chooses to ignore your comment. You smirk, your usual demeanour washing into the shore, a calculating look flashing in your eye. Before he can do anything you shove him back, pushing him down onto the lounge.

Surprise is evident on his face, his eyes watching you curiously. You crouch between his spread legs, your palms sliding over his thighs in a soothing manner, slowly making your way to his waistband.

You quite like this image; his unruly dark curls free and framing his face, his intense eyes swallowing you whole and his knees bent outward. He looks casual, yet so fucking handsome you have to restrain yourself from fucking him there.

"Don't look at me like that," you scold, tugging on his pants.

"Like what," he grumbles, lifting his hips.

His pants pool at his feet, his hardened cock free from restraints. "Like I don't know what I'm doing." He eyes you suspiciously, waiting for you to shut down his thoughts. "I've been fucked before, if that's what you're wondering."

He hums in dissatisfaction.

"I'll decide if you've been fucked, my lady." You raise a brow at the title.

He opens his mouth to say something more, but only a loud groan escapes, your lips wrapping around his cock. His hips reflexively jut, his hand moving to your head in response to your movements, your tongue flattening along the underside.

Harwin shudders, his chest rising in deep pants under your ministrations and his fingers flexing in an attempt to hold himself back from face fucking you. You work him steadily, glancing up at him through your lashes and feeling a sense of pride roll down your spine at his dishevelled state, his head lolling over the back of the lounge.

"Fuck," he curses, tilting down to hold your gaze.

You move a hand to work the rest of his cock that you can't fit in his mouth, momentarily pausing when he grabs your wrist, and quickly heaves you off him. "You do that, and this night ends very quickly."

"I find it hard to believe that Breakbones finishes in under twenty seconds," you muse, slipping out his grip easily and situating yourself on his lap.

He groans quietly, both in frustration and need. "Believe me, my lady, that when I cum, I intend on cumming in you and filling you up."

"Good."

You begin undoing his jacket, sliding it off his shoulders and down his arms before moving to his shirt, heaving it up and revealing his toned stomach. Your fingers splay across his chest, feeling his hard-earned muscles and scars from various fights. You pause on a particularly large wound along his abdomen, feathering the pink tissue.

"Don't worry about it," he whispers your name, reading the emotion on your face.

"This is an assassination attempt, Harwin." You press, flickering up to hold his stare. "Someone almost succeeded in fucking killing you." Unwanted tears spring in your eyes, raw emotion thick within your voice.

The thought of Harwin being killed, frightens the fuck out of you.

He cups your cheek, his thumb tenderly wiping a tear. "This is what I meant," he refers to his previous statement about his enemies. You still, your features hardening.

"Don't you dare, Harwin. Don't you fucking dare." You spit.

He stays silent, observing you whilst your fingers continue their path along his torso, grazing each other his scars. "Seven Hells help the next man that makes an attempt on your life," you vow, your hand splaying out over his heart.

"My little warrior," he rasps, pulling you down to him.

Your lips collide, the taste of him invading your mouth and stealing your breath away. You whimper at the feel of his hands sliding up your arms and resting on your collarbone, toying with your dress. Blindingly he reaches for the lace tying it together, pulling it apart and loosening the top section.

Goosebumps rise along your flesh as Harwin gently tugs the dress down your arms, exposing your breasts and stomach once it pools around your hips. You rest your forehead in the crook of his neck, gasping under the ministrations of his hands along your breasts, his thumb tweaking the bud.

You thread through his curls, your nails scraping his scalp and your lips seeking out his neck.

Suddenly he lifts you off him, placing you down on your feet. You raise your eyebrows in surprise and a little confusion, unsure of his next motive. "Take it off," he commands softly, the low rumble in his chest making your heart rate spike.

The dress falls to your feet and you step out of it, mindful of taking off your shoes and being left bare before him. He slowly takes his boots off, never breaking contact even whilst he removes his pants.

You watch him stand, tilting your head as he comes near. He doesn't speak, nor does he kiss you again. Instead, he hooks his hands under your thighs and hoists you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist and your arms coming to the back do his neck.

He walks toward your bed, gingerly laying you down. You stare up at him with adoration, every fibre of your body knowing you're safe with this man. Despite his reputation, you could almost laugh, knowing that there is a softer, more caring side to him than anyone realises.

No one has ever touched you like you're glass, like you could shatter and slip through his fingers. He kisses you with so much passion and care, in stark contrast to his daily goings. You've witnessed him in a brawl, smashing the men to the ground without a worry and pummelling them to an inch of their life.

Yet you know, these hands handle you with love.

You slide up to the head of the bed, brushing the hair from Harwin's face when he comes to hover above you. He descends, missing your face entirely and planting kisses along your neck, slowly travelling south.

Airy breaths leave you, your body responding to his attention, more so as he pauses over your breasts, taking an erect nipple into his mouth and tugging. Fire pools within your stomach, threatening to pour out. In a way it does, your head falling back into the cushions and your lips parting to release sounds of pleasure.

Harwin continues his way down, his eyes flickering up to you through his loose curls, intently watching your reaction as he nears between your thighs, softly blowing cool air on your sensitive region. You grit your teeth, glaring down at him.

"Hurry up."

"As my lady commands," he chuckles.

Your flush at the incredibly loud moan, not exactly expecting him to dive right in. Harwin drags his tongue up your slit, finding your clit and sucking. He switches between flicking your clit with his tongue and sucking, groaning lowly to himself at watching you writhe under him.

He draws more sounds out of you, snaking a hand up to tease your opening, carefully entering a finger. "Fuck!" You arch your back, your hands reaching for his hair.

He slowly pumps it out of you, enjoying the way you feel around him. He can only imagine how tight you'd be around his cock. The thought almost makes him fuck you right here.

Your stomach twists, your knuckles turning white. No man has made you feel like this, even with just his mouth and finger, the two bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

He adds a second finger, wanting to properly prepare you for him, and enjoying watching you lose yourself to the pleasure he's giving you.

He can feel you get close, teetering along the edge as he begins to increase his pace. You whimper at the ache, rutting your hips upward. "Harwin," you whine at the contact of his lips enclosing over your clit and sucking, hard.

The fire burns brighter, scorchingly hot and desperate for a release.

"Let go," he murmurs, gently nipping your clit. You do, your orgasm crashing down like a wave, engulfing you.

He slowly continues to move his fingers through, allowing you to experience your high as he draws it out. He can't help but clean you up before he even thinks about moving away from the safety of your thighs.

With ease, Harwin climbs back up, claiming your lips. You taste yourself, rummaging your hands through his hair and down his back, his muscles rippling under the pads of your fingers.

He pulls away from you, question shining in his eyes; do you still want this?

You nod, leaning up to kiss him again, solidifying your answer. He hums, guiding his cock to press against your slit, teasing you for a moment before he nudges your opening. You gasp on his mouth, your nails digging into his shoulders at every inch.

Harwin falls into the crook of your neck, groaning at the sensation. He stops moving once you've taken all you can, pausing to make sure you're comfortable. You clench around him in reflex, eliciting a deep rumble from his chest, his beard grazing your neck.

"Harwin," you pant. "If you don't move in the next five seconds,"

He chuckles at your warning, slowly pulling back. You bite your lip, closing your eyes at the high pleasure rocking throughout your body. Harwin lifts his head, his forehead brushing your own. He intends to watch you complete shatter underneath him.

He slams home, somewhat slow but hard, rutting into you like wild waves against a rock, your back arching and pressing your chest to his. You can't help but rake your nails down Harwin's back, ignorant to the fact that you're close to drawing blood, desperate for a way to show how easily he's unravelled you.

"Gods Harwin," you cry out at each thrust, harder and deeper than before.

He grins, his lips on your ear, "I know quiet isn't exactly in your nature, but maybe don't alert everyone in the Red Keep of our rendezvous."

"Oh fuck off."

Harwin reaches for the headboard, his knuckles turning white from his harsh grip, using it as leverage to pound harder. You chant his name, subconsciously clenching and unclenching around him, causing him to falter each time.

That burning ache brews within you, gradually growing with each slide into you. His free hand comes down to your clit, playing with the bud and drawing you closer to the edge. Overwhelming sensations spark up your body, your legs starting to shake from the pleasure.

"Harwin," you whine.

"I know," he grits, picking up his pace. He hits parts of you that you never knew existed, fireworks erupting each time he enters you deeper, if that were possible. "Good girl, you're taking me so well, hmm?"

Your head is tilted up by his hand leaving the headboard to cup the side of your face, forcing your eyes on him. You struggle to keep your eyes open, a drowsy, drunken look coming across you.

Without warning, you let go, bursting around him. "Gods, fuck!" Harwin calls your name, following you over. He couldn't last any longer, not after feeling you come undone from him.

You gape in a silent moan, relishing in the feeling of him fill you up, his hips slowing but not yet relenting. You shiver from the sensitivity, thankful for when he stops. You struggle to hold contact, fatigue seeping in.

You sigh at the feeling of him remove himself, your muscles relaxing and your spine calming. You don't see where Harwin moves off to, until he comes back and murmurs for you to spread your legs, gently wiping his seed from your thighs.

For a moment, you wonder what happens now. Does he just leave? Does he stay? What happens between the two of you? Thoughts rummage, ruining your come down.

"Hey," he brushes your forehead. "Come here." He pulls the sheets back, indicating for you to crawl underneath. All those thoughts are momentarily thrown out the window when he slides in beside you, pulling you to him.

You lay in silence, your head on his chest and your hand playing with his loose curls. "What happens now?" You can't help but ask.

"Now?" He hums, his chest vibrating. "You become my lady wife, and I fuck you whenever I please."

You laugh, rolling further into him. "You better, now that I've given you my maidenhood."

He pulls away slightly, making you look at him. "What? You told me that this wasn't your first-" he stops, reading the glint in your eye and the expression on your face. "You cheeky girl, almost gave me a heart failure."

You grin cheekily, not quite saying anything whilst you comb his hair. You've found yourself with an obsession. "Leave your hair like this," you say lowly, loving the way it frames his face.

"But it gets in my way," he grumbles, swatting your hand away.

"And I like it like this," you counter, going for his curls again, but this time running your nails along his scalp, smirking at his groan. "And I think you secretly like it too." He gives you the side eye, taking your other hand and bringing it to his lips.

#ser harwin strong #harwin strong smut #harwin strong x reader #ryan corr #ser harwin x reader #hotd #house of dragon fic

3K notes · View notes