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star-girl69 · 5 months

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Your Girl

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

synopsis: late at night, you and clarisse get to know one another.

a/n: ykw i dont even know what i write anymore just enjoy it i truly just listen to the wind oh my god

Your Girl - Lana Del Rey (Unreleased)

warnings: im sorry im obsessed w the nightmare trope, friends to lovers MEYOW, HURT COMFORT, clarisse just wants to KISS, light tension, very light and fluffy tho…. not a lot of angst tbh, POSSESSIVE CLARISSE I SCREAMED, mutual pining YESSSSS, they’re in love but they don’t think the other could be in love w them, clarisse knows what she wants and sets out to get it, monsters- again it’s a drakon bc i’m evil, mentions of death, swearing, mentions of weapons, weed and smoking, substance abuse idk if it’s addiction my health teacher would be so disappointed, shotgunning weed, idk what’s happening honestly we’re all along for the ride, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

You don’t know where Clarisse gets it from, but she has good weed.

They’re these perfectly little rolled blunts, with some sort of amazing concoction inside- you can’t even be bothered to care that it’s bad for you. Not when it makes you feel so good, not when it makes everything else fade away.

So, that’s why you’re here now. Sitting in the woods, leaning against a rock covered in moss, staring up at the stars. Sometimes you talk, sometimes you’re just here next to each other. But tonight, you think you took one too many hits, so you’re feeling a little sentimental.

“I would fucking die without you, Clarisse.”

She snorts. “Yeah, probably.”

“No, no, not just like- because you’re so strong, and stuff, but because of this fucking weed. I can’t sleep without it, y’know.”

She hums.

“And, like, you need sleep to live, or else your brain will like eat itself, or something ridiculous. Did you know that?”

She looks at you, mouth curved into an unimpressed smile, eyebrows raised. “I didn’t, and I care so much. Thanks for telling me, leech.”

“That’s mean,” you huff.

“Then stop leeching off of me and stealing my weed.”

Clarisse always looks so pretty in the moonlight. You would never admit that to anyone, but in the dark when your head is all hazy- you know she’s pretty. She’s beautiful, if you’re being honest, but she’s also your dealer- you can’t risk upsetting her. But still, sometimes you’re not sure how she isn’t a daughter of Aphrodite.

But you know better than anyone else that she gets everything from Ares, like she’s a carbon copy of him.

She gets her precision, her strength, her tactical mind, her rolling storm of emotions from him.

Except, there’s a softness in her. Only here, in the moonlight. You don’t know if it’s you or the weed, but you like to think it’s you. You like to think that Clarisse likes you as much as you like her, not just tolerates you for your mediocre company.

She’s sitting with one foot planted onto the ground, hair pulled back all messy, her arm balancing on her knee. The joint is held out conveniently towards you, lazily in between her fingers, so you flip yourself onto your stomach and reach out with open lips.

She smiles and flips the joint around, placing it onto your lips. Your close your eyes and your mouth, breathing in deeply. Gods, does it taste horrible, but you love it too much.

You pull back and breathe out the smoke.

“You love me, and my weed-stealing tendencies.”

“Uh, yeah, okay,” she rolls her eyes.

—-

Clarisse probably trains more than any other demigod at camp. Thirty minutes after dinner, like clockwork, you can find her heading to the field where all the sparring dummies live.

Clarisse is probably your only true friend at camp. You stick to yourself for the most part, hang out with your siblings, but besides for that it’s Clarisse. And she’s the same way. She hangs out with her siblings, and then you. Of course- everyone at Camp knows her name and her ruthless reputation.

You’re unknown, she’s known. She’s the best fighter you’ve ever seen, you’re mediocre, compared to her. She helps you at every turn, you’re the one getting helped by her. She’s mean to everyone, and you’re kind to whoever happens upon you.

You force each other to bring out the other sides of yourself no one gets to see. Clarisse gets to be soft, you get to be loud and annoying. You’re friends, but you both get something out of it.

She’s your friend, your dealer, your savior.

If the first day you came to camp, running through the woods with a drakon hot on your heels and your mouth split open into a scream- maybe Clarisse and her siblings wouldn’t have turned around and noticed the drakon.

Of course, Clarisse was the one who actually killed it, and she was the one who hoisted you up from where you had collapsed, breathing heavily. She was the one who actually made sure you weren’t hurt while your satyr protector panicked about having to face the Cloven Council.

She was the one who found you in the middle of the night, that drakon hissing in your ear, she was the one who gave you the claw she had pried from it’s dead body, she was the one who told you it was dead and nothing could hurt you in Camp.

“Clarisse!” you call, running towards her. Most campers like to wind down after dinner, so the field is empty.

“Leech,” she says when you reach her, leaning her spear against a dummy and stretching her arms above her head.

You always come everyday. You ask her the same question.

“Do you have it?”

She digs under her armor, pulling out the small cloth containing the blunt. “You would probably go insane if I didn’t.”

You feel calmer just looking at it. You smile sheepishly up at her.

“You know I can’t sleep without it, Clarisse.”

She looks away, stuffing it back under her armor, against her stomach.

“Maybe you should try and skip one night.”

You scoff. “I don’t feel like pulling an all-nighter, Clarisse.”

She nods, but her face is riddled with concern. “Okay, angel,” she mutters, so low you can barely hear it. But you do. You hear her call you angel, and you turn away instead of slamming your lips into hers.

—-

After that first night, you slept with that claw tight into your hand. And it was fine. You still had the occasional nightmare, but every demigod had those. But the older you got, the more monsters you learned about, the more comfortable you got with being a demigod- the more the nightmares came. Knowing the drakon was dead didn’t help, and the nightmares got worse and worse until Clarisse found you again one night.

You had drifted apart from her. She had her life and you had hers, but ever since you’ve been bonded by the nights.

She wrapped her arms around you and let you cry, mumbling about how she was the strongest demigod at camp, and there was the barrier, and nothing would ever get through to you.

She was soft in that moment. And you could tell she regretted it, because she ignored you for the next few days until one of her siblings pushed you to the ground. She appeared out of nowhere and grabbed his shirt, yelling that if he ever touched you again, she’d fucking kill him.

While he sputtered and asked why she cared about some stupid weak girl, she helped you up and said: “She’s my girl.”

And since that day 3 months ago, you’ve always been her girl. Neither of you really knew what that meant, except you liked being around each other and you liked this transaction. Clarisse liked owning something. You liked belonging to someone.

That’s what this entire friendship is about- convenience.

So, that’s why Clarisse being concerned about you makes you feel weird. You care about Clarisse, she cares about you- but only enough that she doesn’t want to see you hurt by someone else. But who is she to stop you when you’re the one hurting yourself?

You arrive at the rock in the forest, fingers twisting together. Clarisse is already there, lighter and blunt set out on the ground, polishing her spear.

“Hey,” she says, looking down.

“Hi.”

You sit down, eager to get your hands on the weed and forget about the way Clarisse’s concern confuses you.

You stare at your shaking hand.

Gods, are you really that nervous?

Clarisse’s eyes are sharp, she notices everything, she processes it much faster than you can ever dream to. It’s why she’s so quick in battle. She’s a well oiled machine and you’re the one job she’s assigned to do- she knows you by heart after all these nights.

Her spear is pushed off her lap. “Why are you shaking?” she says, voice low and raspy, her hand cupping yours.

“Low blood sugar,” you lie. “I’ll grab a snack before I go to bed.”

She says nothing, but you watch her hesitate as she grabs the blunt and the lighter from the ground, you watch her hesitate again as she goes to light it. But she lights it, she sticks it in between her fingers and holds it out to you.

“C’mere,” she mutters, and you lean forward and let her place the blunt on your parted lips. You breathe in, only for a few seconds, and you could go for a lot longer.

“I wasn’t done,” you huff as she takes her own drag.

“My weed,” she shrugs. “I decide how much you get.”

“You’re a bitch.”

She laughs. She laughs and it makes your stomach twist in such a good way you can’t feel like this anymore, you can’t remember what she does to you, what she called you.

You reach out blindly for the blunt, biting your lip as you practically climb on top of her.

“Clarisse!” you yell, but she seems to find your desperation hilarious, holding the blunt out as far as she can. “I fucking hate you, oh my Gods.”

“Okay, okay, fine,” she says, pushing you off of her. You realize you’re laying on your stomach in between her legs, one hand planted to the ground around her leg, the other reaching out.

She leans back and takes another drag. You roll your eyes and move to attack her, but she’s too fast, sitting up and holding your hand down, her other hand grabbing your chin. She breathes out the smoke right into your lips that are parted in shock, smiling as you stare right into her amused eyes.

She leans back while you sit there stupidly on top of her, blowing out the smoke. “That- that’s- I hate you, did I mention that?”

“You did,” she muses. “But we both know you’re lying.”

You look at her, at her wide smile, at the look in her eyes. You want nothing more than to be her girl- her girl in the way that she’ll kiss your head, tell you about all the things you’ll never do, she’ll lay down with you in a bed of soft pillows. Her girl in the way the reason she’s soft in the moonlight isn’t the weed, it’s because of you. Her girl in the way you can run to her, the way you do now, but with the added connotation of love.

You grab the joint, and she lets you, watching intently as you breathe in and blow out the smoke. She has no right to be worried over you. Not when you’re the one making the choice to waste away your youth. And especially when you’re not her girl- not in the way you want to be.

—-

“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come,” she hums.

You sit back against the rock. Normally, you would have been here 20 minutes ago.

You didn’t catch her after dinner, and you stayed firmly in your bed until it all got to be too much. You’re terrified of sleeping, of the nightmares that will come- but for some reason, the weed just puts you at such ease that you don’t have any nightmares.

You didn’t want to be near Clarisse tonight. Not after yesterday, not after the way she’s been making you feel, and the fact that you know she could never really like you. Why would she? You are the stupid weak girl who gets pushed over. You run from drakon’s and can’t even sleep because of nightmares.

Clarisse is fiercely protective of those she loves, but you’re too much work.

You wanted to go one night. One night without the weed, and prove to her and yourself that you don’t need it. You’re not that weak.

But you couldn’t.

You sit down, she looks at your tense shoulders and doesn’t tease you, just hands you the blunt. You mumble something of a thank you, looking up at the stars, shoulders relaxing after a few more breaths.

“I, uh, I tried to skip. Tonight, I mean. I tried not to come.” It’s embarrassing to admit this. You’re so scared of the nightmares that even if it’s a placebo effect, you come back to this clearing every night.

“But you couldn’t?” she asks.

“I couldn’t,” you affirm, staring at the ground.

“Well, you can’t just go cold turkey, dummy. You have to wean yourself off of it. Do you not remember, like, any of those nicotine patch ads?” she laughs. “You’ve got a good memory, you remember.”

“Shut up, meanie,” you mumble, raising the joint to your lips. She stops you.

“Ah-ah. Starts now. Make it a good one, ‘cause that’s your last, baby.”

“Fine,” you mumble, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. You breathe in for a long time, tempted to go a little longer, but Clarisse reaches over and pinches your cheek. “Okay!” you yell, throwing the joint back to her.

She laughs and raises it to her own lips, taking in another long drag before putting it out.

You look at her, silent question in the air. She shrugs.

“Been meaning to slow down for a while, why not do it together?”

“Yeah,” you hum, looking back towards the stars. “Oh, hey, Ares is out tonight.” She looks over.

“Yeah,” she muses. “Fuckin’ Ares.”

“It’s still beautiful,” you say, stars in your eyes. “You have to think about it the way mortals do. They don’t know the Gods put them up there- they think it’s just some random spotting of stars, they think they made patterns out of it. Isn’t that beautiful? To make patterns and people out of stars? To look for humanity where there is none?”

“I never thought about it like that,” Clarisse says.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” you ask. You can feel her eyes on you.

“Yeah,” she affirms. “Beautiful.”

—-

The next two weeks goes by the same. You don’t catch Clarisse after dinner, but you come every night, you smoke a little less, she teases you and gets closer to you. She gets bolder and bolder and you get shyer and shyer.

You still feel like too much. If she just lets you prove this to her and to yourself, the maybe you can lean against the rock with her and flirt back.

—-

You meet Clarisse by the rock. She’s still standing, waiting for you. She takes the last of the blunt you’ve been using for the last few days and lights it, taking one small drag before she flips it around and holds it out to you.

“C’mon,” she guides. “Not too much, I’ll stop you.”

You feel kind of like a baby as Clarisse puts the joint on her lips, fingertips against your face to steady her hand. You breathe in for just a second, tempted for more, but she takes it away. You look up at her, fingers twisted together.

“Clarisse, I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

She leaves the blunt to blow out in the wind in the natural dip of the rock, your own little ashtray at the top. Of course, Clarisse will come and collect it the next morning- you don’t want to upset the nymphs and satyrs in the forest.

“It’s a good idea,” she affirms. “Don’t worry, okay?”

You’re scared. You remember being chased by the drakon even now, you remember it’s snarls, you remember it’s claws moving through the air. You remember your heart pumping in your ears, you remember the stones in your stomach that were supposed to be fear.

You feel like Kronos, but what you swallowed wouldn’t just sit idly inside of you- no, your fear would rip through your stomach and your skin and burst out of you in an explosion of blood, like some sick joke of a firework.

She grabs your wrists. Clarisse is soft, here, in the moonlight.

“Hey, it’s okay. I-I was thinking, I didn’t know if you were gonna be okay, but why don’t you sleep in my cabin?”

You shift on your feet. “Clar, no, I can’t ask you to do that. What if we get caught? And I-I- it’s embarrassing, what if your siblings see? What if they tell everyone?”

Clarisse rolls her eyes and tugs you closer from where you had subconsciously started to drift away.

“They already think we’re dating, anyways. Besides, Y/N, no one cares. Most of my siblings have secrets anyways,” she smiles.

“Wh- we’re dating? They think- why?”

Her face is deadpan. “‘Cause you’re my girl.”

You pull back. “Clarisse.”

“What?” she says, slightly incredulous. “You are. You’re about the only person I can tolerate at this camp. I hope you know that. I know I can be horrible, but really, I… care about you a lot.”

You look in her eyes. There’s no lies, no insincerity.

“I know, Clarisse. And I… I appreciate it so much. You’re, like, my only friend,” you smile.

She smiles back but it’s tight. “Friend, yeah.”

You put your arms around her neck and hug her. It’s the first time you’ve ever really hugged her, and her arms wrap tight around your waist. Her mouth presses against your hair. You let yourself be her girl in this moment.

Clarisse is your best friend. She cares about you. Of course she helps you with this. She’s your best friend. Of course you let her.

—-

You do follow Clarisse back to the Ares cabin, back to her bed- and she points to one of her siblings you can’t see in the dark, but there are two figures in the bed. She smiles and you stifle a laugh.

You know better than anyone else that big bad Ares kids are like a marshmallow on the inside. They act all tough, and they are pretty tough, but there’s a soft spot inside of them only unlocked by one person with the right key.

You notice her sibling has their arm around the other person. You wonder if Clarisse will wrap her arm around you like that too.

Clarisse climbs into her bed, opening the covers for you. The beds at Camp are twin sized, but you can fit two people on them if you’re close together. You don’t hesitate, not anymore, not when you have one chance to pretend you’re really hers.

You lay on your side, facing her, hands tucked up by your chest. Her eyes meet yours, she brushes her curls out of her face.

“Good?” she asks. You nod, breathing out.

“‘M fine,” you say.

She rubs your arm, cold from the dark night. “Just relax, okay? Just close your eyes, Y/N.”

You do, you close your eyes, but you’re so fucking terrified you can’t.

“Clarisse,” you breathe, a plead. For what, you don’t know. You want a million things from her in this moment. It’s not fair of you to ask her, you know this, but it doesn’t stop you from asking.

Your breath comes fast, your nails dig into your palms, but you keep your eyes screwed shut like sleep will just magically hit you like a train.

“It’s okay,” Clarisse says, firm. “Why are you so scared?” she whispers.

“They’re so real,” you whisper, your voice breaking.

“They’re not.”

She wraps her arms around you so tight you feel like she’s crushing you. But it keeps you in the moment. If you focus on the way her skin feels against yours, on the way her thumb brushes your shoulder blade, her fingertips scratching the back of your scalp.

If you focus, if you imagine all the thing you and her will never do, if you imagine being her girl, then you can fall asleep.

You dream of her lips pressing against your head, her voice in your ear, calling you her angel.

—-

You wake up, Clarisse still wrapped around you, and slowly detangle yourself. Drool pools at the corner of her lips, and you have to bite back a giggle as you slip out of the blankets and into the warm riding sun.

She looks just as pretty in the sunlight as she does in the moonlight. You feel like a lover slipping out of a bed of secrets. But you’re not. You’re just a friend slipping out of a bed of rumors.

She looks so peaceful, you can’t help but wonder if she always sleeps like this- or if having you next to her had the same effect on her sleep as it did to yours.

—-

There’s a loud knock at your cabin door.

There’s only you and a few of your siblings in here, putting the final touches on their outfits for the day, grabbing the last items they need. One of your younger siblings open the door, and you look around the pillars- maybe it’s a counselor doing some sort of inspection? You take a glance around your bunk- but it’s all clean.

Your eyes meet hers.

“Out,” she says, roughly. She looks at you so intently you almost wonder if she’s talking to you. But when you siblings stand there in shock, she looks away. “Well? I said get out, dummies.”

They exchange looks with you, but eventually shuffle out, not wanting to risk Clarisse and her wrath.

She shuts the door behind your last sibling.

“Being tough has it perks, huh?” she smiles, leaning against the door. Your shirt isn’t even pulled on properly, one of your bra straps is already falling down your shoulder from the act of putting your shirt on, and you’re staring at her with your mouth wide open.

She looks you up and down.

“C-Clarisse, what-?”

She walks over to you, frown etched onto her face.

“I woke up and you weren’t there.”

“Oh,” you say. “I… I thought you would have wanted me gone-”

“Don’t care. If you’re going to sleep with me then you need to wake me up and tell me you’re leaving.”

She rolls her eyes at your confusion. She sits on your bed and then gestures animatedly for you to sit down.

“Did you not sleep well?” she fusses. “What’s up with you this morning?”

“I slept great, Clarisse, it’s just- why are you here?”

“To tell you that you can’t leave,” she deadpans. “I mean, you spend all night shaking in my arms, terrified, and then I wake up and you’re not there? I almost killed someone. You’re lucky I decided to check here first, Y/N.”

She laughs. She laughs like it’s so funny.

“Why?” you ask.

“‘Cause you’re my girl,” she shrugs. “And-”

“Clarisse, what does that mean?”

You know what you want. And you’re not dumb, but you’re the only friend Clarisse really has- what did you have to compare it to? You’ve been thinking about it in your head, rolling it around like a diamond- each side reflects something you want from her. Her love, her protection, her touch, her time, her.

She plays with her fingers. “It means… I like touching you. I like protecting you. I like being near you. I like your voice and your face.”

She stares at you blankly, like she’s recounting a grocery list, waiting for an affirmative “yes, I heard you.” But all you can do is stare in shock, trying to make your brain catch up with your heart- Clarisse likes your face. Clarisse feels the same way you do. You can be her girl, and you’re not too much for her, you’re not just friends.

“Oh, fuck it,” she mumbles. She places her hand on your face and pecks your lips. “That’s what it means, okay? I’m, like, embarrassingly in love with you, if you haven’t noticed.”

Clarisse is so blunt and forward it makes your head spin.

She stares into your eyes, searching them for something other than shock and confusion.

“Okay,” she says. Shuffling back. You can tell she’s hurt and embarrassed, but her face reveals nothing other than faux confidence and indifference. “I’ll go, I guess-”

“Bitch,” you mumble, slamming your lips onto hers.

It feels so overwhelmingly right and fills you with such a calmness that weed could never compare to. If you were dependent on the joints, then one taste and you’re addicted to Clarisse. She kisses you back with just as much ferocity, throwing your arms around her neck, trying to swallow you whole with her mouth as she grabs your neck with one hand, your face with the other.

It’s months of tension and wanting, lips touching through the passing of a joint, all of it coming down to this moment that feels so bad, so sinful- surely the Gods must frown upon loving someone this much. You would never pray to any of them again if it meant Clarisse would keep kissing you like this.

When she finally pulls back, you’re both smiling wide, leaning into her palm, hands playing with the curls at the base of her neck. You feel like a giddy school girl. You feel like a lover discovering something wildly new and unknown, promising to keep it secret, sealing it with a kiss of pure fire.

“That was such a mean way to confess to someone,” you say. “Just bitchy. Brass and blunt- harsh, even.”

“Shut up,” she mumbles, pressing her face against yours.

“Yeah, it’s okay. I know you’re a big softie who drools in her sleep.” She pulls away and glares at you.

“I don’t fucking drool, Y/N. You’re seeing things.”

You fake frown, bringing her closer to you. “Such a horrible thing to say to your girlfriend.”

“My girlfriend?” she breathes, swollen lips parting like she’s aching to kiss you again.

“Your girlfriend,” you affirm, staring straight into her eyes.

You sunk more into becoming a demigod and all it got you was nightmares and a fear of sleeping. But the more you sunk into being her girl, the more you sunk into loving her and being loved.

You don’t know where Clarisse gets her softness from. Certainly not from her father. She didn’t learn to kiss your head from him. She didn’t learn how to hold you, how to call you hers, how to whisper in your ear from Ares.

You don’t know where Clarisse gets her softness from, but it’s good.

—-

SHOUTOUT TO clarisse “cause you’re my girl” la rue LOVE YOUR POSSESSIVE ASS!!!!!!!!

—-

clarisse when y/n smokes weed: oh so pretty……

clarisse when y/n can only fall asleep bc of her arms or her weed: my girl fr……..

clarisse when y/n: oh my wonderful perfect angel

—-

y/n: BITCH

clarisse: YOURE SO HOT FUCK

—-

where did clarisse get her weed from you may ask? me that’s where she got it from i ripped through the fabric of reality to give it to her to make this happen actually and you’re welcome

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish

@sincerely-silk

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

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mariahcarreyyy · 5 months

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lan loves facials. idc what anyone else says. better when he's standing up and you're on ur knees 🫠 and with that, deepthroating!!!

- @planete777 💓

im back w/ a lan blurb does that make up for my neglection😔 nsfw 18+ under beware⬇️⬇️

Truer words have never been spoken, honestly. Lando is obsessed with seeing you on your knees, wide-eyed and horny, all for him and his cock. So, when he gets to paint your face—to mark you as his with his cum—for the first time, the mischievous glint in his eyes tells you that it won't be the last time.

"Fuckk, y/n, y-your mouth," lando moans loudly, sinking further into the wall behind him like your mouth does with his cock.

you hum around his cock. when lando involuntarily bucks his hips up into the heat of your mouth, you can't help but parrot his sounds. the weight of his cock on your tongue, the taste of it, drove you insane. if he wanted to fuck your mouth, well, you wouldn't necessarily stop him.

lando groans when he feels you relax your throat and suck your cheeks in, tight and hot around his thick length. "ah, holy shit, baby. y'want me to fuck your mouth, hm? a slut for it—fuck, my slut, though, yeah? y'd only get down on y'knees f'me."

you nod frantically. Or, well, try as best as you can with the way his hands tightened his hold on your hair, bringing your lips all the way down to the base of his cock. You swallow a gag when the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat and trail your hand up his thigh to cup his balls. Lando, meanwhile, is still wondering if you were fucking real. He's fucking himself into your hole like there was no tomorrow, and you were taking it so fucking well. A twinge of embarrassment nips at his brain when he realizes he's already so, so close, but honestly, was he really supposed to last long when you were looking up at him like that— all fucked out and cock drunk?

"yes, oh, fuckfuckfuck, y/n im—,"

lando quickly pulls you off of him. you whine at the loss and inch closer to his cock when lando's fingers replace your lips. He's fucking his cock into the circle of his hand frantically, pinching your chin hard enough for it to slacken. Lan resists the urge to throw his head back to look into your glassy eyes as thick beads of his cum paint your face white instead.

He'd stare at your tainted face for a good few minutes with the dopiest grin you've ever seen before he coats his index and middle fingers with the cum on your cheek, poking at your closed mouth. Your lips part obediently, and Lando definitely does not whimper at the sight of you, dripping from his cum and sucking his fingers dry.

Except for the fact that he most definitely does.

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airbendertendou · 7 months

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May I please get a scenario or hc (whatever is easier for you!) of Rindo’s s/o dying their hair to match his hair color? Like they do it while he’s at work and he has no idea until he comes home. Thank you! I hope you have a good day/night!

synopsis : reader changes their hair to match their boyfie <3 characters included : mikey, ran, draken, koko & bonten!rindou

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

— MANJIRO! ♥︎ you copy his classic, half-up hairstyle ♥︎ doesn't even notice you've changed your hair ♥︎ draken says something snarky abt it like "oh, you're matching, cute." ♥︎ nd mikey goes ??? w his cheeks puffed out from a taiyaki ♥︎ but when he turns to see you ♥︎ it's like the sun shines down onto you carefully ; like angels are singing ; like he's falling in love all over again ♥︎ his head flops onto your shoulder, arms shakily bringing you closer to his hold ♥︎ mumbles something about turning you into a sano /:

— DRAKEN! ♥︎ you go for jus a simple braid, a little piece of hair tugged out ♥︎ he snorts when he sees you, rolling his eyes nd everything ♥︎ but his ears are so so red ♥︎ and hes thought abt how to tell you how pretty you look ; how you need a dragon tattoo now, too ♥︎ shoves you under his arm when you tease him abt his blush, digging his chin into the top of your head annoyingly ♥︎ tugs on that little strand a lot!! jus to get your attention, he swears ♥︎ but has this sort of pride in his eyes when you show your hair off at the toman meeting

— RAN! ♥︎ your hair is styled into two braided pigtails ♥︎ oh hes so smug ♥︎ but also keeps an eye narrowed and focused on anyone mking inappropriate comments ♥︎ we live in a society where pigtails are sexualized ♥︎ twirls your braids the way he twirls his!! ♥︎ will also purposely mess his hair up so you have to fix it for him ): ♥︎ grins at any and all matching hair accessories he see ♥︎ talk him out of getting the giant, obvious bows please

— KOKONOI! ♥︎ can b his bonten hair or his current one! ♥︎ either way, you twist or braid a few pieces of hair to mimic his style ♥︎ hates it at first ♥︎ bc how dare you make his signature style look better than he does ):< ♥︎ ends up liking it bc now he has easy access to kiss your ear nd neck ♥︎ he goes through all the other styles you'd look nice in ; all the colors you could pull off ♥︎ something about your hair matching his... ♥︎ makes you feel more official, somehow

— RINDOU! ♥︎ bonten era ; you get the jellyfish cut! or maybe copy his colors- ♥︎ he knew abt your hair appointment but didnt think it was anything out of the ordinary ♥︎ little did he know.... ♥︎ he just stares ♥︎ like wide-eyed, heartstopping, can barely breathe stares ♥︎ stands to his full height and cups your chin, turning your head gently to get a full view ♥︎ grins w pink cheeks ): kisses the tip of your nose and just continues to stare ♥︎ "all mine......" its whispered before he takes your breath in a kiss ♥︎ He's Obsessed.

——♥︎—— im so sorry for the lack of content lately ); hope this was okay / the format was alright. if youd like to b tagged / untagged in any tokyo revengers content, let me know! ♥︎

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levmada · 5 months

Note

PLEASE write about Levi’s mental state, i’m begging you

He’s faced death and precarious situations since he was born, yet he’s still standing strong and hopeful, WHAT THE HELL I LOVE MY SHORT KING

IT'S FINALLY HERE😭im sorry anon i hope you're around to see this and if u are i hope i dont disappoint

the tone in this analysis is so weird because i kept getting caught between 'this is an apa paper no contractions, academic language, double spacing -' and 'this is a tumblr post about a fictional blorbo wtf r u on'

i also use some scientific language i try my best to explain but if this turns anyone off i don't blame them because im unhealthily obsessed

*i'm a third-year undergraduate psychology student w/ a concentration in psychopathology

tw/cw: discussion of childhood exposure to sex (not assault)

Foreword

I’ve been putting this off for a while (I’m forgetful and this topic is intimidating what can I say), but being a year out from graduating with my bachelor’s to become a mental health professional, and being a Levi scholar(/hj), I wanted to give this a shot.

I wanted to dissect and examine Levi Ackerman’s mental health “currently” (as in general canon), and explain as thoroughly but as simply as possible how and why he thinks and acts the way he does.

Seeing how AOT is pretty renowned for leaving out the ‘insignificant’ details, especially character details, a good majority of my assertions and even details of his life are built off of correlations and “signs and symptoms”; meaning some things could be an aspect of Levi’s personality, or a symptom of psychopathology.

I will examine his childhood (especially his childhood), adolescence, young adulthood, and “present” adulthood, with a short summary at the end of where he might be mentally after the war.

*Lastly, I don’t like it when things I say about a series or character are taken as fact or make it implied that someone else’s thoughts are “wrong”. This is partly built on headcanons anyway, which are influenced by my own experiences. Don’t take away from this that this is me telling you what to think.*

Childhood

The most important period of development occurs in infancy and childhood, especially from the ages of 3-6. This is when a child learns where to find security, love, and basic skills, gaining stability as they develop.

Well, Kuchel died when Levi was 4.

Maternal Love / Learning Empathy / Anxious Attachment Style

Levi was born into deep poverty within a violent unwelcoming environment. Basic physical needs must have been very hard to meet (i.e., consistently fed enough, a clean environment, no physical threats). And where Levi was born is like the dictionary definition of a bad environment for a small child, excluding only his mother’s care and love.

As it’s generally understood in canon (and suggested from Levi’s special backstory manga so far) she was a caring parental figure early in Levi’s life that loved him unconditionally. We can conclude that Kuchel did everything within her power to compensate for both parenting Levi alone and shielding him the best she could from his horrible surroundings, teaching the kindness, goodness, and love that Levi would internalize and go on to strive for for his entire life.

As far as we know, no other children lived in the brothel. Socialization is just as important for a young child as receiving love. With this isolation, it’s extremely difficult to learn how to connect to other people, or pick up on social cues. Levi would’ve never learned how to interact properly with his peers—aside from use of aggression and violence which Kenny would go on to instill in him.

With the danger/anxiety imposed by strangers, mostly if not entirely men, he would turn to his mother for comfort all. The. Time.

And she would give him that support and affection of course. This early motherly affection is integral to child development: a child who receives empathy and affection is subliminally taught how to feel and express empathy towards others.

While Levi’s surroundings were dangerous, lonely, and chaotic—traumatizing enough for a toddler or young child—Kuchel provided a safety net from that, so I think that Levi developed an anxious attachment as a child: exhibiting clinginess, excessive fear of abandonment, and an excessive need for security and/or reassurance.

Paternal Trauma / Potential Androphobia

Born and living in a brothel, we can assume that Levi was probably seen as a burden and a mistake by others, especially by men (both the likely majority of her customers and her boss).

AOT ch69; Before the Fall, ch34

This is likely in contrast to the women (those living and working in the brothel like Kuchel). They should know Kuchel if not as friends, then acquaintances who could empathize for her and her son.

There’s an obvious trend here. If Levi is going to feel fear/danger/anxiety because of men, he should have a general aversion to men and-or the behavior of men who he encountered as a child. This is impossible to know for sure or in meaningful detail, but it seemed to be resolved by the time he became an adult if so.

Although Kenny in his words was no more than Levi's teacher, Levi did see him as a father figure.

The subject of Kenny will be expanded on later, but it's clear Kenny in no way resembled a father, who also would go on to abandon Levi (at the age of 11 or so). Children without father figures tend to struggle more emotionally, psychologically, and socially. Specifically, (especially boys) tend to exhibit intimidating/aggressive personas to compensate for resentment, fear, and unhappiness.

Sexual Trauma (Tangent, Probably)

This is unconfirmed but a likely trauma Levi went through: exposure to sex as a child. There’s no way to confirm what he experienced, so I’ll function on ‘probably’s’ and ‘most likely’s’.

Because Levi and Kuchel only lived in one room, other rooms in the brothel should have belonged to other women, and he was at the oldest four, I wager that he was babysat by women who Kuchel knew and/or was made to hide somewhere while she worked, such as in a cabinet.

(for reference)

AOT ch69

The odds are high that he was exposed to the aftermath of sexual violence (i.e., marks seen on his mother), and the sound or smells that have to do with it. That young, he wouldn’t know what it was, but he should have realized later as an adolescent.

In general, children regardless of gender exposed to sexual content usually experience early puberty (which is just as likely for impoverished children, or children who experience chronic high-stress in general); issues with intimacy; become desensitized to high-risk behavior; negative/inaccurate expectations about sex and relationships in the future; influence inappropriate behavior with other children or adults; sex addiction.

This is especially relevant to Levi’s fear of closeness/intimacy in the future. Exposure to sexual situations—possibly not including CSA in his case—very early in life inflicts on a child emotions and stress they don’t have the intellect or reasoning to process or understand. An extreme aversion to interpersonal relationships, especially physical ones, results.

This stress Levi must have felt, being powerless to this happening to his mother, is a different beast. Children aren’t capable of handling high levels of stress, and so the brain will automatically create coping mechanisms: dissociation (a severe form of “zoning out”; observing the self “from the third person”; numbness; the feeling of living in a dream), excessive daydreaming/overactive imagination, symptoms of PTSD (nightmares and terrors; flashbacks; spontaneous activation of fight-flight-freeze associated with anxiety; excessive worrying/fear; loneliness/self isolation). PTSD will also be prevalent in Levi’s later life, which I’ll delve into later.

Inappropriate behavior and sex addiction are also highlights for me because they shouldn’t exist in him based on Levi's personality and behavior throughout the series. In my opinion, Levi ought to associate sex with pain, shame, and violence; he does see it as an ordinary job—a means to an end. He should be desensitized to sex as a concept, but associates it personally with shame, sadness, and pain, possibly feeling disgust towards it. So it is highly likely that Levi in every stage of life following this experienced sexual repulsion (usually associated with high anxiety towards sex), a low libido, or a lack of sexual desire entirely.

From a trauma perspective, he could avoid sexual topics of conversation, sexual settings (i.e., brothels), or an array of things which are sexually suggestive or he as a child possibly associated with sex (i.e., cleavage, panties, specific touch). Similarly, he might avoid direct reminders or have a post-traumatic reaction to them, such as anxiety or flashbacks (i.e., the sound of a bed creaking, the sight of wet clothes).

Importantly, it can be concluded that sexual violence was often exhibited, and the idea would be ingrained in him that sex, like everything else besides his relationship with his mother, is “give-and-take”, “victim-and-attacker”, and learn to be repulsed by intimacy. This impacts his willingness for later friendships and relationships as we’ll see later.

Early Abandonment & Early Exposure to Death

As Kuchel’s health deteriorated, Levi’s sense of security would break down. Availability of shelter, food, and emotional support would be even less secure than before. He might have been providing for Kuchel for some time, even, as it can be gathered that he received little to no help from those around him while she was sick. To whatever length he had to take responsibility and both fear for Kuchel, this would cement a sense of responsibility and guilt in him from the age of just four years old.

He will fail to save her—regardless of the fact that that’s not his responsibility in the first place; a child wouldn’t understand that—and then lose her with nothing he could do to even cushion the blow.

How powerless he must’ve felt. How hopeless. How likely is it that Levi found comfort in joining her? A child his age wouldn’t be able to comprehend death, basing our understanding on Piaget’s theory of cognitive development. To summarize, at the age of six or seven, children aren’t capable of complex, abstract thought like death or the finality of it. But Levi had to learn early.

AOT ch69

This will be center in his “clean-freak” tendencies later.

Adolescence

Most of this section is going to be rather vague again, but we already got the bulk of that over with in childhood!

Emotional Train Wreck / Lack of Identity

It’s hard to notice if you’re not paying attention, but in every scene we’re shown with Levi after his mother dies but before Kenny leaves, he’s wearing some variation of his mother’s one dress styled into a shirt. He loves her endlessly, even or especially in death. And part of cherishing her memory, to him, should’ve been taking after her as much as he could.

That’s how to explain why he didn’t become a cruel person (Kenny for instance) as he grew into a teenager, even though much of Levi’s outlook and behaviors come from him (ch57).

The more pertinent question is how extreme violence, reinforcement of the idea that that violence is power, and Kenny’s total (or most likely total) lack of communicated emotional connection affected him.

Levi would still desperately want that connection deep down, especially with his mother gone. This is a major reason why Levi sought to get stronger to please Kenny. For chronically abandoned people, that continues into adulthood and even beyond. A hole inside which can't be filled.

AOT ch69

Chronic loneliness—like I explained before—basically explains his aloof nature and awkward disposition. It’s not that Levi feels as detached as he looks, but he doesn’t know how to express himself or open up. He wouldn’t learn how to process his emotions, let alone talk about them. He’s basically emotionally stunted and immature in impersonal relationships (between friends and especially in regards to intimacy).

The Underground’s environment also makes him socially awkward, rude, of course stoic/not very expressive, and blunt. Levi was forced to become extremely observant of people to suss out their intentions, remaining vigilant of his surroundings at all times.

Levi doesn’t even get affection in any sense anymore. He doesn’t get a hug or a pat on the back, and he certainly doesn’t get a shoulder to cry on.

If anything, Kenny would punish him for showing weakness. Vulnerability is weakness; weakness is death.

What results is a continuous and boundless sense of emptiness inside that can’t be filled. He’s plagued by a chronic sense of unbelonging and loneliness. There’s no time or opportunity to develop “normally” as an adolescent. Socialization is limited at best; thinking of his place in the world is irrelevant when his one and only most pressing goal is survival; he doesn’t get to explore hobbies or interests.

OCD Propensity

One “interest” Levi is passionate about is cleaning, at least. Disease is what caused his mother to die. The easiest cause to point to would be their disgusting surroundings (although, Kuchel was infected by a customer). It is canon that Levi’s love of cleaning comes from "his personal experiences". In that interview, Levi first specifically references the important of fighting disease.

In other words, his "clean freak" nature comes, primarily, from the death of his mother: Filth -> disease -> death, and abandonment by extension.

His mother would’ve encouraged him to keep their room clean. There were times he or she had to have come down with something and dirtiness was the cause. On top of Kenny’s enforcement to keep up “clean” appearances to garner respect from everyone else in the Underground.

This in particular is extremely relevant to his mental health. When someone feels out of control of what is happening to them, especially in a recurring way, and especially as a child who doesn't yet know how to feel stable in an unstable environment, they look for something to control. It can be weight, bodily functions (blinking, breathing, etc), dominance over others, or cleaning, for instance.

Fear of disease, the urgent need to have control, and the basic need for stability makes it obvious that Levi would become obsessed with cleaning. And moreover, developing OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder). I’ll go deeper into this diagnosis later.

Lack of Self Worth

Despite the acknowledgment throughout canon that he trusts in his own strength, it wasn’t always that way.

Canonically, Levi sought praise from Kenny by showing his strength because that was the only thing he received praise for. The conclusion Levi came to once Kenny left him was that he wasn’t strong enough (wasn’t good enough) to warrant staying with him.

In conjunction, Levi’s first conclusion was that he did something wrong, not that Kenny possibly had some obligation that forced him to leave the Underground, pointing again to his own lack of self-worth.

This scenario created a complex in him, the very root cause of Levi’s pain, the very foundation of what Levi would go on to prioritize in adulthood. If he isn’t useful to those he wants not to abandon him, he’s worthless. He’s only useful when he shows his strength. Every other aspect of him like his interests is either irrelevant or bland by default in his eyes.

He would go on to make it his mission to try his best to be good enough in order to save and protect the lives of others, but foremost those he cares about.

Young Adulthood

Our first exposure to Levi as an adult is in A Choice with No Regrets, his OVA/backstory.

(By the way, I’ll be basing this analysis off a mix of the manga and the OVA.)

Emotional Immaturity/Affective Dysregulation

Generally, Levi’s defining negative character trait as a young adult is his emotional immaturity/anti-social behavior. Yes he’s grumpy and rude which is always indicative of him, but he’s very quick to anger, too. He cursed at the Squad Leader who offended him (by assuming that because he, Isabel, and Farlan are from the Underground, they’d be dirty), and argued furiously with Farlan that he would kill Erwin—not because it was required for the job, but because he disrespected him—for a few examples.

ACWNR ch2

He tended to be arrogant, too. Such as when he ultimately called a Scout who had experience with the Titans stupid for telling Levi to hold his swords in a certain way. He spoke to every officer the same as he would anyone on the street, having a remarkable lack of basic respect for authority. He was insistent on distancing himself from the entire setting and structure of the Scouts as much as possible, both to not get attached, and he found their mission childish/foolish.

He’s rather selfish. There is nothing Levi cares about genuinely more than Isabel’s and Farlan’s lives and the job that will set them up with a good future. Farlan’s advice is the only one’s he takes and the only judgment outside himself that he considers, such as when Farlan asks him to not cause trouble with authority to keep a low profile, but even then he acts stubborn. Levi trusts nobody wholeheartedly except himself (until later in ACWNR).

There’s a cognitive dissonance in him. Growing up, and still as a young adult, Levi’s headspace is marked by fear and uncertainty, with his power as his source of confidence. The first time he kills a Titan (with Isabel and Farlan), he uses too much gas because he refuses to potentially risk his friends’ lives; when the expedition is upcoming, he abruptly tells Farlan and Isabel to find a reason to stay back, and that he’ll complete the dangerous part of the job on his own.

Levi is full of repressed fear and uncertainty. He hides and/or buries all of it for the sake of self-preservation both emotionally and physically.

Antisocial Personality…?

It’s extremely interesting how a character as selfless, heroic, and empathetic as Levi exhibits antisocial symptoms. I’d even argue that if his childhood was spent entirely without his mother figure, then he might be a dictionary definition of ASPD (Antisocial Personality Disorder).

People with this disorder live day-to-day under the constant assumption that whoever is around them is “out to get them”/searching for a weakness to exploit. Humanity is made up of only prey and predators; morals are completely subjective, perpetuated by the society that surrounds them. This constant need to defend oneself, the effect of the exact trauma the potential sociopath experienced, combined with a muted emotional spectrum, results in a complete disregard of everything, including people outside of themself. They might believe they’re entitled to comfort or admiration, but overall, they’re intensely self-serving, often aggressive, and ruthless.

Because Levi for instance learned to rely on violence both for “love” and survival, then he might fall on violence to manipulate a person or situation into serving himself. I see reason to believe that Levi could have grown into worse than Kenny’s image if it weren’t for his mother’s influence.

However, the greatest cause for deniability is Levi’s wide emotional spectrum (especially including empathy and shame), while a lack of shame is the most significant marker of ASPD . (It is arguably one of many testaments to his strength that a victim of so much suffering, violence, and cruelty could become a man as empathetic as him.)

However, these tendencies may still be relevant: A sense of arrogance—both to the way Levi thinks of some who he perceives as weak and live without good morals—lacking issue with using deceit or violence to attain a goal, and living outside the rule of authority.

I go into more detail about this idea here.

Conclusion

As is true in general, there’s very little to say of mental development once someone has reached their early–mid-twenties. What we know of Levi’s young adulthood does reinforce his fear of abandonment, but he finds a cause where his strength and compassion can be “put to good use” and give to him a life that is worth living.

Conclusion: the ‘Present’/Diagnoses Overview

C-PTSD (Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder)

Levi’s emotional dysregulation (i.e., inability to sit with and process negative emotions), his difficulties in relationships, insomnia, negative worldview, absent sense of self, and finally, his persistent sense of unworthiness/worthlessness are all indicative of C-PTSD. It’s distinct from PTSD in that he didn’t endure one short-term traumatizing event, but he grew up surrounded by trauma and saw it as normal (e.g., gang violence, extreme poverty, death of a parent, (more presumably) physically and emotionally abusive parental figure). Levi as a child developed no understanding of a nurturing, secure environment.

Negative/Absent Sense of Self

I’ve talked about this at length already, but it’s worth noting how Levi’s perception of himself must have changed when it was revealed that he is extremely strong physically not from his own efforts as much, but because he’s an Ackerman.

His self-confidence and self-worth have always been built on the foundation of his strength. He’s useful if he’s strong, so he’s worthy if he’s strong. Along with the extreme high pressure his goal to kill Zeke put on him in season four, he might have gone to extreme measures to compensate for his strength he might have felt was “unearned” (such as excessive exercise for example). This is an aside, but it was a blow to him for sure.

Emotional Dysregulation

The causes of emotional dysregulation generally which he experienced are as follows: early childhood trauma, feelings ignored, judged, or invalidated at a young age, and physical and emotional child neglect. Beyond his first four years of life with his mother, Levi experienced all these things (early exposure to sex and likely exposure to domestic violence aside).

It’s important to focus on emotional neglect specifically, when any and all perceived “weakness”, no matter how small, is unacceptable to Levi. He will never ask for help (being independent to a fault), he can’t define or process his emotions, and it doesn’t occur to him—and it could be a shock—when he learns that his friends care about him, not him insofar as how useful he is.

As an adult, Levi appears to be emotionally mature, but I argue that this isn’t the case. It’s more accurate to say that he has better control over his emotions (in that he buries them or ignores them) with a mature outlook because of all his experiences with suffering.

Similarly, he’s not outwardly emotional not because he’s antisocial (as related to ASPD, not introversion), but because he’s so “emotionally constipated” that he’s numbed the vast majority of the time.

Relationship Issues + Fear of Abandonment

Because of his fear of abandonment and impaired emotional intelligence in close relational conflict, he’s extremely passive and/or passive aggressive. In order to avoid potential abandonment, he doesn’t go out of his way to win major arguments—such as threatening to break Erwin’s legs if he didn’t stay away from the expedition in season three, but ultimately giving in. He’s also more likely to sneak petty insults into arguments, give “silent treatment”, slam doors, etc. His kindness and exceptional empathy shouldn’t let him be physically or overly violent.

These are likely additions to why Levi doesn’t foster many close relationships.

Fittingly, as a child I thought that Levi might have had an anxious attachment style (clingy, excessive need for security), but as this possibility for security was removed entirely, and he was taught to not rely on others, he would develop more of an overt avoidant attachment in adulthood in combination (fearful-avoidant): making very few emotional demands—even though he has needs—withdrawing when there’s conflict, acting aloof yet fearing abandonment, having difficulty expressing emotions he feels intensely, and fear of depending on someone else.

Anxiety

His cool-headedness even in the heat of battle/war (other factors like experience aside) is exactly what you would expect from someone diagnosed with C-PTSD; he’s accustomed to chronic high-stress. But small stressors (i.e., a change of plans) are overwhelming and make him quick to anger/excessive annoyance.

OCD

Emotional dysregulation is also closely associated with OCD.

OCD is much much more than being concerned with keeping clean or organized. OCD is an anxiety disorder composed of anxiety-related obsessions and compulsions, such as frequent and disturbing thoughts or images (intrusive thoughts). These attempt to be managed through rituals (i.e., handwashing, counting in patterns). Although symptoms will fluctuate with anxiety, OCD at its baseline is a distressing disorder.

Since he was young, Levi should have had an incessant need to be in control at all times. A shining example of this is his mother’s death, an incident he couldn’t control but included dirtiness/disease as a cause he could pinpoint, so this anxiety with dirtiness becomes a major obsession, and the compulsion is cleaning. (Putting aside the fact that Levi enjoys cleaning by itself too.)

It’s a widely-held belief that if Levi has OCD, it’s contamination OCD, as it specifically has to do with an obsession with dirtiness and a compulsion in cleaning (i.e., damaging handwashing, ritualized bathing that may take hours). However, based on the multitude of times Levi was covered in blood and remained unbothered by it (Titan and human), and in fact the obsession’s lack of relevance entirely during urgent missions/situations, contamination OCD is simply not plausible. Instead, it’s general OCD.

There’s no way to know for sure, but I don’t see his OCD as mild or severe. Levi is an extremely orderly and balanced person, so it can be concluded he must have things done a certain way, routinely, organizational, or planned; when the dirtiness is “negative” (i.e., Titan blood, blood on a knife he used to kill Isabel’s attackers), he is never more rigid with cleanliness; it’s probable he suffers intrusive thoughts (likely of the violent nature), a fear of contamination, and/or counting ritualistically, but the most obvious compulsion is cleaning. He might have sensory issues, such as disgust if he happens to brush shoulders with a stranger; aversion to particularly bright lights, irrational rage towards “mouth sounds” (i.e., chewing, coughing, swallowing), etc.

EDNOS (Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified)

Levi should have a complicated relationship with food to say the least.

In the realm of eating disorders, EDNOS is sort of a catch-all term when an individual doesn’t qualify for the diagnostic criteria of anorexia or bulimia, and it encompasses lesser-known eating disorders like Pica. It’s the most common diagnosis for clinical eating disorders.

I already covered how integral the early years of life are, and beginning at a young age, if children aren’t given a basic need like food, and they must seek out food on their own, it becomes an anxiety deeply rooted in the brain regardless of how well-fed they are when they’re older. There will always be an urge to have food available. Levi’s years in the Underground were spent either actively starving, or going about every single day having acquiring food as top priority. He was a young adult when he left, so it’s impossible to unlearn this (without extensive therapy, which Levi doesn’t seek). It’s similar to compulsions found in OCD: even though he logically knows that there will be a dinner after lunch, it’s impossible to put aside this worry.

That may mean always having food stashed, eating too much—especially in his early years Aboveground when he’d eat as much food in a day than he’d eat in a week Underground— stealing food, or eating way too quickly (as someone who lived in a place where food was considered something of a luxury resource and threatened being stolen at any time).

The latter factor contributes to Levi’s suggested preference to only eat alone—joining the fact that Levi only eats with Erwin after expeditions. Eating in front of others should be considered a weakness to him.

As time passes with this easy access to food, combined with his extremely narrow sense of what makes him “good enough”, his relationship with eating may become toxic. Especially when the stakes of his worthiness are so high—literally life and death. He may think that he’s privileged to eat at all, and when he feels worthless, he restricts himself from that “privilege”.

He may be so accustomed to the feeling of hunger, that it doesn’t immediately register with his mind when he is hungry.

Lastly, he may have a generally low appetite. This is often associated with depression, but depression is comorbid with C-PTSD.

Misc.

Some tangents/miscellaneous speculation about Levi’s psychology:

Queer?

Sexuality is formed and shifts due to a wide variety of factors, which most if not all are terribly understudied: genetics, hormones, and your environment/experiences. So again, my speculation.

With his fear of close relationships and negative experiences with sex, I think he should land somewhere on the queer spectrum, specifically under the asexual or aromantic umbrella (i.e., pansexuality/being panromantic (attraction to personality) and demisexuality/being demiromantic (attraction only to those he has an emotional connection to)).

MDD

The odds of Levi having MDD (major depressive disorder/clinical depression) are iffy. Most if not all of the symptoms are comorbid with childhood trauma and C-PTSD: Such as persistent apathy, guilt, and/or discontent; sleeping too much or too little; lack of energy; reduced or heightened appetite; irritability.

Oftentimes, depression, C-/PTSD, and related mental illnesses cause unexplained physical pain, such as back pain and occasional tension headaches. “Stress hormones” like adrenaline are built-up in the body, and usually persist without physical therapy and-or medication (Disclaimer this mention is based on nothing more than Levi always standing with at least one hand on his hip).

Body Language

Similar can be said of his body language from a cognitive perspective. The vast majority of the time, Levi has himself closed-off in some way, usually by crossing his arms to protect his chest; a subconscious barrier between oneself and another person.

Also see this official art of Levi asleep.

Afterword

We’ve known it’s not just Levi’s physical strength and skill that makes him the strongest, right? It should take immense mental strength to make it day-by-day dealing with the trauma and issues that he does, but not only has he survived and continues to, but he lives heroically, selflessly, with the wellbeing of everyone around him as a top priority. He buries all of his pain by moving forward always and without exception regardless of how painful the present is. Living with “no regrets” should in mental respects be a guise for pushing his trauma down, too; there’s just no words that can properly do Levi’s resilience justice.

Part of me wants to go into detail about his later adulthood, but given how very little we know (right now), I think it’d be too speculative.

However, based on what we have seen at the ending of AOT, it’s comforting to know and plain to see that Levi wasn’t defeated when he “lost” the reason to be so strong, and even his strength itself; he didn’t lose his love for his friends nor of life.

In middle age, based on Erikson’s psychosocial stages, the conflict that should enter Levi’s life is the idea of generativity versus stagnation. He seems satisfied with his life despite the negative effects of all he went through—grief, physical disability, inevitable mental scarring—and he’s still concerned with helping others, especially the younger generation in a world after the overwhelming devastation that was the Rumbling.

My speculated psychopathologies/diagnoses of Levi:

C-PTSD (insomnia prevalent)

OCD (contamination obsessions)

EDNOS

#levi aot #snk levi #levi ackerman #levi attack on titan #captain levi #captain levi ackerman #aot levi #aot levi ackerman #attack on titan levi #aot meta #levi heichou #rivaille heichou #levi rivaille #rivaille ackerman #lance corporal rivaille #levi snk #levi.thoughts #aot #attack on titan

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killakalx · 3 months

Note

killa ur one of my absolute fav jason writers so i felt the urge to share w u what has been rotting my brain recently. all i can think abt is ak/rh!jason meeting robin!reader for the first time. at first he’s angry, enraged, really, seeing flashes of red and green prancing across rooftops like you don’t have a care in the world. he has half a mind to beat some sense into you, knock that ‘i’m invincible in this suit’ mentality right out of your pretty little head. until he sees you up close, because that kevlar vest can’t hide the swell of your chest, and of course he notices the way your cape flares out to accommodate for the curve of your ass. just imagining the way he’d get obsessed, always cornering you in dark alleys just to rile you up and make you feel guilty that somebody like him has your panties all sticky and your thighs clenching, only to leave you high and dry ‘til the next time he ‘coincidentally’ runs into you during your solo patrols. kicking my feet js putting this into words he’s actually taken over all my thoughts i can’t function 😵‍💫

omg wait ilysm nonnie ☹️❤️ im glad my writing for jason is what you like!!!

ok i’m gonna edit ur take just a lil bit bc if you want me to be so honest rn, the idea of reader as a robin implies to me that reader’s still kinda young. ik that isn’t the fact but i just associate robin with being tiny and thrilled to get your life destroyed by an old man in a bat costume. now if we go about it like reader’s being mentored by b-man and has been for a long time, so it’s obvious to jason that she’s got that lil invincible flair? i’m all for it. cuz i feel like jason has beef with anyone who subjects themself to the same things he did when he was under batman’s wing.

now i’m not gonna say jason’s a stalker but yk. he’s definitely keeping track of you. judging your every move and making sure to be as hypercritical as possible, just to distract him from how badly he wants to ruin you himself. two things immediately came to my mind when i read this and it was brat taming and corruption, but jason as a brat tamer is always in the back of my mind somewhere 🫣 he’s almost looking forward to the moment he gets you to pounce on him with some sneaky shit, waiting for you to pull something just so he can show you how easily he’ll have you right under his thumb. and every time he corners you it’s a little game- he’s wondering if you’re feeling feisty and wanting to give him a hard time or if you’re gonna be all calm and collected and try to outsmart him. he almost finds it pitiful, really, if not entertaining.

then suddenly you’re looking forward to the moment he’s got you really cornered, head to head with him and he’s giving you that death stare even from under the blank helmet. “i know you like this stupid little game,” he’d taunt after getting you in a chokehold all the way up against his chest and pelvis. “aww, he didn’t teach you how to get outta this one yet?” when he definitely has, and you can’t quite figure out what exactly you’re supposed to do when you’re caught off guard by the little tingle between your legs. not to mention how the tight grip around your neck has you gasping… god you’re ashamed of yourself, and he can tell with the look of frustration under that cute cowl. you can’t tell that he’s enjoying this too, and he makes sure of that. just know that he’s eager to hear your half-assed protests and how you “shouldn’t be doing this with him” while he’s… 🤭 mmmm ak!jason todd w a corruption kink save me pls

#ttm ❧#jt ❧#jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #red hood smut #red hood x reader #ak!jason todd x reader #black!reader #dc x black!reader

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icyharrington · 2 years

Note

55 w/ steve

86 w/ eddie

98 w/ billy

im hopefully gonna do all 3 of these, but for now im just gonna do the eddie one becauseeeee i love it and i can practically hear his voice saying it teehee :3 this is gonna be one for my plus size ladies though obviously anyone can read it !!!

86. “don’t be shy now, sit on my face.”

contains: eddie munson x plus size reader, dirty talk, dom!eddie, insecure reader, negative self talk, foreplay

“You are so fuckin’ hot.”

Eddie breathes his admiration against your lips, panting hungrily as you twist your tongue with his. You’re straddling him in his bed, which makes it that much easier to feel the massive protrusion growing in the front of his dark jeans; biting his lower hip teasingly, you grind your hips down against him, chuckling when he lets out a low groan.

“Lemme see you. C’mon, get up,” he urges, doe eyes practically pleading you for a show. He punctuates his request with a firm slap to your ass, causing you to jump in surprise.

It’s the third time you’re fooling around with Eddie Munson, and you can hardly believe it’s actually real, even as you go through the motions of feeling his warm skin against yours. You’d known of him vaguely throughout your time at Hawkins, and had heard (and seen) plenty of questionable things in regards to the metalhead outcast, but you likely wouldn’t have ever spoken to him under most circumstances.

He had always struck you as the type of guy who would hurl insults at girls for laughs, but he wasn’t; he was a little unhinged, sure, but after running into him at the record store one afternoon, you were startled to learn that Eddie “the freak” Munson was a genuinely nice person.

After that chance encounter, it didn’t take much at all for you to become hooked; you wound up in his bed later that evening, receiving some of the most intense orgasms of your life.

Eddie traces his fingers up your waist as you straighten out your spine, tossing your hair behind your shoulders so you can put your body on display for him. It’s almost objectifying, the way he obsesses over your soft figure, but you can’t deny that it turns you on beyond belief.

“Mhm. Yeah, take your top off for me,” Eddie murmurs, licking his lips as his eyes drink in your voluptuous frame, trailing leisurely from your stretch-marked thighs, to your curved tummy, and finally your tits, maybe his favorite part of all. They’re veiled only by your favorite band t-shirt, which you cropped yourself; the top falls to just below your chest, though when you arch your back, Eddie can see the underside of your cleavage.

You do what he says, your tits heaving with each ragged breath you take into your lungs. Eddie grins mischievously, reaching his palms to feel you up, the tips of his fingers tweaking at your hardened nipples.

“Eddie…” you sigh, and he moves to strike your ass again, squeezing firmly as he pulls you further up his body so that you’re straddling his ribcage.

You don’t put your full weight on him, fearing that you might block his airflow if you do. You usually prefer to be on the bottom, seeing that you probably aren’t as thin as the other girls he’s slept with, but Eddie is apparently unfazed by this. The first time you undressed in front of him, he’d been practically salivating at the view of your chunky legs clad in thigh-high fishnets, hips hugged lovingly in your favorite black miniskirt; even when you peeled off your top to reveal your stomach (your biggest insecurity), his interest in you only intensified.

“I wanna take pictures of you,” he says, bouncing your tits obscenely in his palms with a perverted grin. “How do you feel about being my album whore?”

“I’m sure the Corroded Coffin crowd would love to look at my fat ass every time they whip out your record to listen to,” you say sardonically, which visibly pisses Eddie off.

“The fuck did I tell you about talking like that, huh?” he snaps, gripping your hips on either side and jerking you up to his chest. “If I tell you you’re sexy, you’re sexy. Get it?”

You bite your lip at his authoritative tone, cheeks prickling. You never met a guy like Eddie before, someone so enthusiastic abut your unconventional features; all the boys you talked to in the past had seemed to treat you like a last resort, but not Eddie. Eddie makes you feel special, like you’re one of those perky cheerleaders that meander down the halls in their revealing uniforms every day, to the delight of each hormonal teen boy that they pass.

With the pressure of his eyes being fixed sternly upon you, you give in. “Fine.”

“Thaaat’s my girl.” He strokes your back affectionately, sliding down beneath you so he’s lying flatter, no longer propped up on his pillows. You shift your balance to your knees so as not to crush him as he sinks under, but he huffs, forcing you back down into a sitting position. “Where’dya think you’re going, huh? I haven’t even gotten to taste that sweet little pussy yet.”

You nearly gasp out at the crudeness of his statement, your pussy aching with need as the words leave his perfect mouth; looking down at him inquisitively, you chew at your bottom lip in thought. “You mean you want me to…“

He nods encouragingly, a wicked grin situating itself across his lips when he senses the apprehension in your demeanor. “Don’t be shy now, sit on my face.”

“Eddie, you won’t be able to breathe,” you protest, but he works at the waistband of your leopard-print panties anyways, rolling them down until most of your pelvis is exposed.

“Who needs oxygen when you can have pussy?” he smiles, his eyes half-lidded and clouded over with an urgent lust. The look on his face tells you all you need to know; he doesn’t just want you, he needs you. “C’mon, baby. You know I can handle it.”

“‘Kay, but if you suffocate to death, it’s your fault,” you warn, half-joking; he scolds you for the comment, wordlessly and with the back of his ring-adorned hand, by landing a sharp smack to your jaw. It’s not enough to hurt, really, just sting, but the sensation travels straight down to your cunt all the same.

“Get your ass up here,” he orders, and you do as you’re told, bracing yourself above his head after stripping off your underwear. He gazes at you triumphantly from where he’s situated, craning his neck to shoot you a self-satisfied smirk.

“I’m going to make you cum on my tongue now, okay? And I don’t wanna hear anything else out of that mouth unless it’s to fucking beg me for it.”

With that, he yanks you down onto his waiting tongue, just as you choke out a breathless “yes, Eddie.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #mine #eddie munson x plus size reader

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st-danger · 2 months

Note

saint may i trouble u for somethin quick rough and nasty idc which ghouls or how or what or why their fuxkin but im obsessed w ur writing please and thank u 🙏

Dew can't breathe. There's no hand on his throat, no palm covering his mouth, but his knees are folded up to his ears and Ifrit is an imposing, impossible figure above him, pressing in and knocking the air from his lungs with every thrust. Mouth parted, looking dazed. Intense and relentless is a nice look on him, even if that's the only nice thing about him for the time being.

Dew has some hair sticking to the corner of his mouth, his sweaty forehead. His nerves feel oversensitive, his body aches already, and he isn't sure what he says please for. Not sure what he's asking, but it feels correct to say, a soft puff of air knocked from him with a particularly nasty roll of Ifrit's hips. His hands press ineffectively against Ifrit's broad chest, clawing at him as the angle lets him drill against a sensitive spot inside. It's so good and Ifrit won't let him forget it. The irritation from that will be a problem for future him, and he'll roll his eyes and play stupid when Ifrit dares to call him out later, telling him he knows he's the best he's had and that it's so obvious he needs it again. Needs to be put in his place, because the others are too nice to him. Too kind, too loving. The others don't understand the ways in which Dew needs to be fucked brainless.

"Please?" Ifrit mocks. "What more could you want?"

Ifrit buries himself deep, holds himself in, leans in further and Dew's sure he can feel him in his throat. Arms bracketing him, boxing him in. Not that he has any leverage like this, but even if he wasn't folded up to be used, ankles over his shoulders, he still wouldn't be able to wriggle away if Ifrit's on him. He's possessed, thoroughly and inescapably, and he'll have the bite marks and bruises to show for it when he's finally finished using him. He will ache, he will wince, and nothing will ever feel as good as when Ifrit uses him like an object.

"Please," Dew wheezes again, and knows his cock is leaking a spot of pre onto his belly. Knows that each thrust he gets is moving him, smearing the wet spot around his skin, cock trapped between their stomachs. He can finish from this. It's barely enough friction on his dick, but it's enough with how keyed up he is, which how perfectly Ifrit nudges inside him right there. The sum of it all is enough, the helplessness, the cruelty. "Use- me, make me, c'mon, make me cum."

Ifrit adjusts enough to where he can lean all his weight onto one arm, freeing the other to grab Dew's face. Thumb digging into one cheek, fingertips into the other, forceful and aggressive and squeezing, squishing his face. Reflexively, Dew's hands fly to his arm, though not to pull it away. To anchor. Ifrit's eyes burn into his, brow knit together, staring at him like he can see more than anyone else. Something secret and shamefully weak.

"I'm fucking you until I'm done," Ifrit warns, voice dark and low. "You don't want to cum early." Dew nods, eyes wide, and Ifrit drags out slow and then slams back in. Fucks a pathetic whimper out of him. Repeats. The hand on his face is painful. He has to look stupid. "Yeah? You wouldn't want to take my cock all sensitive like that, would you?" Each snap of his hips makes Dew's eyes struggle to focus, little toes curling. "That'd be awful for you," Ifrit grunts, throbbing hard when he pauses before drawing out again. "All used up and cryin' for me. Be a fucked up thing for you to want."

Dew nods again as best he can with his face being gripped the way it is.

"Please," he says again, weak.

#st-speaks #ghost #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #sodo ghoul #dew ghoul #ifrit ghoul #dewdrop/ifrit #fire ghoul #ifrit/sodo #ifrit/dew #ifrit x dewdrop #ifrit x sodo #ghost headcanons #ghost fic #ghost fanfiction

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unluckilyimnot · 3 months

Note

A small making out w loki (bllk) plssss? I hc him that he's shy in public but wild when ur alone ꉂ(ˊᗜˋ*)♡

(no pressure on doing this thooo)

sweet boy w Loki (bllk)

making out, semi-public

m.list || rules || requests are open :)

note: hiii i agree with that, i'm sure that shy/sweet boys are in fact feral and that's : hot. i can't wait to see Loki more ! it's the same, i'm not sure it that good but i hope it's just fine <3

Update pls guys that's not the only thing I can do im a fluff girlie 😭

If you ask anyone about Loki, they will say that he’s a sweet, with a gentle smile, maybe a little shy and humble man. Always cheering people, a very good player and the first looking for the best in people. You agree with all of that, well for most part.

His soft smile doesn’t necessarily mean the same thing for you, not that he’s an asshole with you. He can just be a little… brutal ? His shyness disappears, let’s say and he doesn’t need much to do so.

“Julian, what if anybody sees us –” you try to prevent it from happening but his hands were already all over your body and so were his lips soon after. Kissing you so you would stop talking for a second, he tilts your head up to get a better angle. The night was boring, long for nothing he was kinda tired of it. He needed to clear his mind a little and you were gorgeous in this dress, he could take a break from this charity thing.

You left the reception quietly and he found a calm place, away from the big event just to let his hand rub your figure up and down, staying a little more around your ass ; you know it takes him everything to not grab it. He deepens the kiss, getting drunk on the taste of alcohol laying on your lips. Your hands naturally circle around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

It’s ruining your makeup, your lipstick will be all over his lips and yours but you don’t care anymore. Kissing Loki is a feeling like no other. Your tummy is a mess, you can’t catch your breath and feeling his leg pushing through yours doesn’t help at all. You melt at the feeling, moaning in his mouth. You’re long gone.

If he could eat you alive, he would. He’s obsessed with the feeling of your flesh between his teeth – he can’t wait to get back to his place – but for the moment he had to deal with it. It can’t be seen, but he’s desperate, kissing you like his life depends on it. Grabbing your ribs a little harder, feeling your skin melt in his hand without really feeling it ; it’s driving him crazy.

You bite his tongue playfully, a small smirk on your lips but it’s quickly swept away when he grabs your neck, a little warning for you to watch what you’re doing.

He’s already taking a lot on himself, don’t make it harder, but when you try once again your back is pushed back against the wall.

“Don’t, or you won’t walk tomorrow.” he whispered in your ear before composing himself and smiling at you. Your crimson lipstick on his lips and skin and a gaze telling you already a lot of what will happen to you when you get home.

That’s what you meant when you say that he wasn’t as shy as he seems. You gulped hard, before clearing your throat.

“I’ll get us something to fix that. I’ll be right back.” you were running away from his consuming gaze, or else you’ll be begging for more tight there. He nodded, waiting patiently for you to come back before he could head back to the main room, but only with your blushing face in mind. And all the pretty things he could do to you.

i hope you liked it !

#blue lock x reader #blue lock #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock headcanons #bllk headcanons #julian loki #loki x reader #loki x reader smut

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maxiskindahere · 4 months

Text

Hell is forever | Lute x F!Reader

i’ve become obsessed w Hazbin Hotel recently and well where’s better to write than Tumblr!

I also love x readers and Lute so this is a fun time xx

i also haven’t written in a WHILE so this is not my best work but i promise im better xx

————

CW: swearing, sexual comments

Lute was an interesting person, she wasn’t typically the type of person you’d get in with. But since meeting her & Adam, you are sure that your life has improved… to an extent.

——

“Hey, Y/N! Don’t you think Lute would so much better with less on?” Adam teases as you walk into his office “Adam, you are going to be the first man with no dick if you don’t shut up.” Y/N deadpans, plopping down beside Lute on the couch

“You’re no fun, Y/N” Adam complains, throwing his head back with a groan “I just know that if I agree with you, Lute is very much able to fuck me up.”

You know of the exterminations, and you know Lutes body count. Being on her bad side is not something you wanted.

“Please, Lute’s too busy st-“ Adam is cut off with a yelp as Lute throws something at him “Shut up, Adam.” She hisses, glaring daggers at him “Fine fine” He mutters, flipping her off as you look between them in confusion

“So what happened in Hell?” You decide to ask, knowing the extermination had happened just a week prior. “Well we had a talk with Lucifers bitch daughter today.” Adam begins in a rant about how “Charles” decided to talk about how she wants the exterminations gone and some bullshit hotel

“She seriously thinks sinners can be redeemed?” Y/N questions, leaning forward “What does Sera think about this?” Adam scoffs, rolling his eyes

“she doesn’t know, it’s not like it’s going to cause problems anyways.”

——

Adam was wrong. It was definitely going to cause problems, but that wasn’t her issue. So, she continued on with her day while waiting for the time to come when she’d meet Lute for lunch.

“Sorry!” A voice exclaims as Y/N feels someone crash into her “Fuck!” She yelps out, quickly spinning around to be met with two demons and Emily, the seraphim of joy.

The h/c girl quickly straightens up “Seraphim Emily! What… are you doing here?” She splutters out, glancing nervously at the demons “Oh hush, Y/N. You know you can call me Em when Sera isn’t around” Emily informs the girl with a happy smile.

“Right well.. Em, what is.. going on?” She questions the seraphim, still glancing between the demons “Right! This is Charlie and Vaggie! They’re representatives from Hell!” The girl cheerfully explains

Y/N’s eyes widen “Holy crap! You’re the princess aren’t you?” She asks Charlie, whose face flushes “Yep, that’s me..!” She says awkwardly before taking Vaggies hand in hers “This is my girlfriend, Vaggie” She introduces with a soft smile

Y/N grins “I knew gay people went to he-“ She’s cut off by Emily wacking her lightly “I’m kidding! That’s sick, congrats” She says softly, fluttering her wings

“So, you here about this.. hotel thing?” Y/N questions, crossing her arms together “How do you know about that?” Emily quizzes the girl who pauses for a second “Uh, Lute told me!” She quickly states, rubbing her arm

Emily’s eyes widen “please tell me you two are-“ Before Emily can continue, Y/N spots Lute approaching the four “Respectfully, your majesty please stop” Y/N hisses out as Lute reaches them

“Y/N, where have you been?” Lute asks the girl, anger clear in her voice “Sorry, I ran into these lovely girls and you know how I feel about ditching people” Y/N states innocently, smirking at the anger in Lutes eyes “And you know how I feel about waiting, finish up here and meet me in my office.” Is all the taller girl says before departing

“She seems.. nice.” Charlie says after a few moments of silence “Oh she is, I just don’t think she likes demons” Y/N comments, she knew Emily was unaware of the exterminations and she was not about to admit that she knew to anyone.

“I’m not sure why, you two are lovely” Emily pouts, causing Charlie and Vaggie to give her light smiles “But uh, I better go.. Lute will be a pain if I keep her waiting much longer” She says, excusing herself as she bids farewell to the trio and makes her way to Lute’s office

“Hey..” Y/N says awkwardly, walking into the unlit office before being slammed against the now shut door “I can’t believe you!” Lute exclaims, glaring down at Y/N

“What did I do?” The girl yelps out, feeling the pain rush to her wings “You’re talking with Vaggie! Of all people!” Suddenly everything made sense.

Lute was always fighting for Adam’s favouritism with Vaggie. She was better than Vaggie in every way, but until Vaggies betrayal Adam couldn’t see it.

Since then, the girl had some serious issues with abandonment.

“Oh cmon Lute! You know I don’t care about that failure” Y/N tries to reassure as she feels Lutes heavy breathing hit her face “I only care about you, I promise” Y/N says softly as she notices Lutes eyes soften

“Sorry.” Lute mutters, still holding Y/N against the door “I know a way you can make it up to me” Y/N mumbles, looking down at Lutes lips before glancing back up at her eyes which were wide in surprise before slowly leaning down and capturing the angels lips.

Y/N quickly reciprocates the kiss, wrapping her arms around Lutes neck and pulling her closer, desperate to have the girl closer to her.

But before anymore could be done, Adam suddenly barges in knocking the two away from each other

“The trials starting, come on.”

—

#hazbin hotel x reader #lute x reader #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel

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meiru-sama · 1 year

Text

♡Yandere bullied x bully reader♡

This story contains: masochistic tendencies, bullying, degradation, stalking, obsession, a jerk reader, slight nsfw.

You let out a loud laugh while you stared down at the boy who was on the floor, his face covered with bruises and blood while his things were scattered on the ground.

You leaned down closer on his face with a smug smile. "You idiot. I told you not to tell the teacher or anyone about this shit right?" You hissed while you pulled his brown locks making him groan in pain and pleasure.

"P-promise (Y/N), i promise--- it was not me! It was hannah, she found out about this and she quickly told the teacher about it but trust me-- i didnt want anyone to find out about this!" The male defended, you just smiled at him, tugging his hair harder.

"Oh well Hiro my love, i guess i have to leave you alone now." You shrugged while you let his brown locks free. You stood up from the ground, while you dusted your skirt.

"W--what? No-- please (Y/N) dont leave me alone!" The boy pleaded, while he looked at you with so much desperation.

You just smirked, knowing how you got him wrap around you fingers. You just pushed him with your heels making his back lay on the floor. You placed your heels on his chest while your eyes landed on a book, a yellow book that has writings on it saying. "For my eyes only!"

You chuckled while grabbing it. "Is this some kind of diary, you weak freak?" You were about to open the book but the male underneath you shouted at you to stop as his face started to turn red.

"Are you telling me to stop baby boy?" You rose a brow while the male just can feel himself getting harder when you called him by that pet name.

You opened the notebook and you started to read it out loud but lucky for him, both of you were on the rooftop and no one else was there expect just the two of you.

"Dear diary, it was just a usual routine wake up, get ready for school, study ,get hurt by (Y/N) and sleep. Loser!" You laughed before continuing. "She punched me to the face again but it was harder and fuck it was.... fantastic. I want her to do it again" your smile dropped while you decided to silently just read all of the pages and everything was about you, it even have some images of you! Sleeping, showering, gossiping with your friends or studying.

You threw the diary to the ground, while you stared down at the male, disgusted, who just stared at the diary you threw as tears started to form in his eyes but to be honest you were amused, ignoring the fact that he always stalked you and was jerking himself of every night while thinking about you.

"Well, i knew you were a creep baby boy." Hiro stared at you with wide eyes. Y- you werent mad?? Infact you are wearing a smirk right now! Means.. you like him too?!

The brown haired boy's eyes sparkled with joy and excitement. "Such a dirty boy huh? " you said before removing your heels on his chest making him breath more freely.

"Anyways make a copy of that image where i was sitting on a couch eating a popcorn and on the shower part. I look good on those." You said while giving him a wink before leaving him on the rooftop alone.

Hiro stared at the sky for a moment before letting out a laugh, his cheeks were still hot and red, his thing still hard.

It was unbelievable, he couldn't believe it!you were interested with him too? You were completely fucking unstable and a lunatic like him too?

(I think im gonna re-write this, im so fcking sleepy rn)

#male yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere #masochist yandere #masochisticyanderexreader #dom reader #dom!reader #sub character #sub yandere

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thesamoanqueen · 9 days

Text

Blackwater XX

Warnings/AN: I should apologize for the drama but its my trademark at this point, I'll just say that there's a flashback and a couple of references to previous chapters. As soon as possible I'll create a masterlist dedicated to the series, because I have contents that I want to add since we are at the end. Lemme know if someone wants a tag there too~

Trouble ahead.

He showed up unexpectedly, grumbling about the mud that had gotten on his expensive shoes, the usual penguin-like gait and Jimmy rolled his eyes, waiting for him to finally reach them because they couldn't have continued at all if he was around. And it had nothing to do with a tactical move to hide plan from the enemy, it was simply impossible to ignore or avoid Paul Heyman and if once Jimmy would have laughed, now Paul was just annoying and the expression on Jey's face proved it.

- "Nice place, in your style" – he commented, without greeting or trying to pretend too much – "reminds me the days I used to come visit your dad, both of you were three, four maybe" – and Jimmy folded his arms.

Sure, their style wasn't their cousin's luxury stuff, the one Paul had accustomed him to. At that moment he was probably having breakfast in a restaurant downtown or a sauna to cool down his muscles, but he too had cut his teeth at the garage near Oak Wood Hills. Jimmy still remembered the afternoons spent there after school to see the red Jeep Cherokee that Roman had become obsessed with, he bought the damn car as soon as Uncle Sika came back from one of his trips and now instead he drove around in black businessman's SUVs and looking after the community with checks he couldn't spend on himself.

- "Did you get lost Og? Want me to call your daddy so he can pick you up?" – he asked and Paul must have had colic judging by his reaction.

- "No. Im here to talk."

- "Wow really?! Mind-blowing!"

The colic became a reproachful look at his sarcasm, but still Jimmy was not impressed and when Jey decided to come closer to support him, Paul wisely quit, once again showing off the best acting skills to save his ass.

- "Even though I remember what was said at the meeting, Im here with good intentions. Of course, it hurt me if I have to tell the truth, I don't understand where the aversion against me comes from... but despite this I couldn't refuse in my heart to help" – he began and Jimmy blinked confused.

- "Have you had a heart transplant?" – he urged, matching his attitude.

Paul didn't take that joke well either, but he had nothing to complain about, everyone knew how things were. The wiseman didn't help anyone if he didn't have something back, goodness was not among his qualities and it was impossible he had found some of it within himself now that he was personally involved. His feelings worked on command, according to occasion and business.

- "He thinks I'm dumb ass" – Jey said out of nowhere, staring at him.

He had crossed the edge since the boys' were dragged into the family mess and now his goal was just putting an end to it all. For him that war was an unbearable burden, Jimmy knew how he was, he knew Jey just wanted to start over, have some peace and he didn't like Paul's fake visit because it also added provocation to his worries. He would probably have put up with Roman, but not Paul, Paul wasn't family to him and those turns of phrase were making him nervous.

He heard the wiseman noises, trying to stay in control even though Jey's gaze didn’t help his attempts.

- "What? No, of course not, I’d never think bad about you! The Tribal Chief had chosen you as his right-hand man, a fool would not have had such an honor or right to speak in family business."

He thinks we're both dumb.

That stunt pushed Jimmy to clench his fists in annoyance, but didn't have time to silence Paul because his brother really didn't seem in the mood that day and had come forward again.

- "I had no right. He take all the decisions, with you, from day one."

He hadn't been around when that deal or alliance or whatever it was between him and Roman had come about, he'd been forced away from home for months, but Jey was there and kept him updated on everything. They had kept him on the sidelines of the family business from the beginning and the right-hand man title with their tricks had become a joke they made real when it suited them. Jey had taken it seriously despite everything, he had committed to the vision and tried, but it only make him run everywhere and get beaten. When Jimmy came back everything was already done and things had even gotten worse after.

- "Jey…" - he heard Paul negotiating trying to slow things down, realizing maybe that his sweet words were no longer having the planned effect - "when you're at the top you often find yourself in unpleasant situations, it's not for everyone, you're starting to understand it too how it is bearing the weight of that position. At the meeting you made some choices... let's say questionable ones... listening an advice would have been right for you if I may, to judge pros and cons. I'm here to offer you a second chance, I care about you even if you don’t care about the wiseman."

Jimmy hadn't expected his brother to discuss those terms in front of the elders, it had been strange and even he had been amazed, because Jey hadn't talked to him first about anything. But whatever plan he had if he had one, leaving a door open for Solo and even Y/N, Jey didn't need any second chances, especially not thanks to Paul. Jimmy was there to cover his back and it would always be like this, he didn't need counselors and dogs licking his feet to sleep better at night.

I can handle him.

His offer echoed through the link, but Jey didn't answer.

- "I know you're angry now and maybe it won't seem that way, but all this will help you, trust me it can be good for you, it's part of your journey to take the place of the Tribal Chief one day" – he persisted and Jimmy decided to step forward, ready to send him back to where he came from with good ass kick.

- "Imma take his place next week" – Jey stopped him, voice far too calm.

The day. It was just a week away. At the dawn after the harvest moon things would no longer be the same. Jimmy had been hoping for a change for years now, in the last few months he had chased it like a breath of air, now that was so close it was an almost surreal feeling, but Jey already seemed in control and ready.

- "It could happen... of course..." - Paul hesitated, avoiding answering to Jey push - "its essential, however, that the family is preserved and all of this, lemme tell you, is a dangerous gamble now. The elders have agreed to restore order, but we're all worried about what will happen next, them, me, your parents, even Y/N... poor girl, she can't rest knowing what’s going on and what could come" - he tried, pulling out an apologetic face that he could have avoid considering what relationship he had with Y/N.

- "None of them should be. The only one who needs to worry is you, because when I'm done, you'd better be far away. Bring back your advice, speeches and ass to my cousin, Og, don’t make say it twice" – Jey quickly silenced him though, stopping his tantrum by placing a hand on his shoulder.

Jimmy watched him stiffen as if someone had growled at him, face pale and shaken, his gaze going from Jey's fingers to eyes, which had been fixed on him from the moment he showed up. The realization of failure hit him right in front of them, a mixture of affront, anxiety and worry that Jimmy watched Paul shake off in the same way as Jey's hand, scrambling a few steps back to make room between them. He nodded to who knows who, body shaking as he sorted out his expensive clothes and pride.

The harvest moon was near, so their mother said. That year it was time to reap what they had sown.

***

Devil's Point, that's what the sign they passed on the way said and it really must have been one of devil’s tricks, because Y/N felt her stomach flipped. Or maybe wasn't the devil, maybe it was just another perfect date, pleasant anxiety, wine and fresh air caressing her warm face, sun slowly sinking beyond the strip of sand and trees, setting the sky on fire. Maybe the devil was Roman, with his gentleman manner, so confident, constantly eyeing her, always attentive, his low velvet voice. The bond had always been there, in her veins, in her bones. An invisible impulse born with them, as their lives went on and years passed, omnipresent, indissoluble, inevitable despite miles and obstacles. And more Y/N lingered in that trap easier it seemed to fall, normal deserving the life she hadn't had, a security she didn't know and now all around her, emanating from Roman.

Where has he been all this time? We were alone…

- "Have you ever looked for me?" – she asked out of nowhere, putting the dessert away.

A chocolate cake, because it was her favorite and he worked hard to please her, learning quickly and put into practice even the most insignificant details.

Roman looked surprised at the change of subject, putting down his glass.

- "Have you ever looked for me before that evening, when you found me at the camping?" – she asked again, feeling anxiety suddenly hit even though it had been her idea to investigate, happiness quickly dissolve into doubts.

Y/N didn't even know why she asked. It was an uncomfortable question, the search for a mate was a now past custom, too low probabilities and a world where alternatives had now become norm. It was stupid to expect something and unnecessarily provocative, what's more in their case, after all the first few months problems, it sounded a bit like an accusation or an attempt to ruin plans. Roman however didn't lose his composure and she saw him take a deep breath, brow furrowed as he remembered.

- "Years ago. When I finished college, did it for a while, then stopped."

- "Why?"

He looked at her in silence, but he didn't seem angry or bothered.

She needed to hear it, to know.

- "… had become frustrating. I needed to focus on what I could accomplish."

So real. So true.

Few could say they were lucky enough to find their other half. Rare cases, exceptions. Was it sad to meet someone, choose them and fit in? No, most people out there did it like that, she herself had witnessed it with her parents before the horror, but sometimes people couldn't even find someone, sometimes they were not chosen or stopped wanting each other and then yes, it became sad. For Y/N having someone in her life had never been an aspiration, a dream to cherish when night became too cold or silence too heavy. Getting attached was a risk, risks were dangerous and in her case, as an omega, alone and without a family or a community, it was better to avoid rather than defend. She had to be smart, loneliness had kept her alive, had kept her going, was the possibility of filling the void that scared Y/N. It scared her to get used to someone and lose everything again. She knew what Roman was talking about, a perpetual aftertaste on her lips when she moved away from a place and now she was founding out that she had never really been alone. She had always had a chance, someone waiting for her, ready to fill that void that for Y/N had become like an old illness she lived with.

Roman had been looking for her, among so many people, even if only for a while he really had and it was… so reassuring.

- "You didn't" – she heard him reflect, moving closer to put his jacket on her shoulders.

There was knowledge in his voice, a heavy bitterness, as if he didn't need to hear Y/N say it. She watched him take another sip of wine to warm himself or perhaps wash away the taste of that thought, enduring the cool evening for her.

- "I did it once… just once" – she admitted, surprising him and even herself.

She had never thought about that day before, but memory had hit her soon through her she-wolf, perhaps to console him. She didn’t like that look on his face, he was better all cocky and flirting.

- "I have been in foster care for couple of years after I lost my parents. I went from one house to another, it didn't work and I really didn't want to stay. There was a brunette white girl in one of the families, she didn't like me, talking behind my back all the time... I told her I’d find you and make her regret it" – she said, shaking her head at the thought of that childish menace.

Y/N didn't remember the reason for their fight, it could have been anything, she was an unbearable girl herself at the time, but she knew how she had felt. It was vivid in her memory. That sense of not belonging, absolute loneliness, anger, so much anger at the idea of being and being able to be just a stray in the future. The world is too big a place when life decides to give its worst lessons. Y/N had always grown up quickly, she had always learned running, what to be without roots, what to do if there is no one waiting.

- "We can pay her a visit" – Roman proposed casually and Y/N stared at him, because of all the things he could have said, she hadn't expected that.

No pitying comments, no words of comfort or judgement, just a blind complicit willingness to indulge her past madness.

- "Mmh I'm tempted" – she giggled softly.

- "What happened?" – heard him ask and pointed to her arm, where there was a scar similar to the one he had.

- "I stole her dad’s car and destroyed their fence" - she said, making him frown.

She had gotten into that pick-up without knowing how to drive or what to do, it didn’t end well, they caught her immediately and in hurry she had taken everything and everyone down. One of the poles around property had broken the pick-up window and the wire wrapped around it had threatened to blow her arm off, it was a miracle she hadn't fainted there. One of the biggest dumb act of her life and at the same time another lesson, proving Y/N she shouldn't be carried away by her omega impulses, it didn't bring anything good.

- "I stayed in town for a while I think, then left without looking back. I have no idea what happened to the pick-up or her. I didn't find you though... it was enough for me."

Admitting it, thinking about it, made her feel vulnerable. She didn't like that feeling. That attempt had been a failure from the start, chances of meeting him simply by walking a few miles, going to any city, any street, had been zero and even if he had been there, messed up as she was by pain, Y/N wouldn't even know she had found him. She had been stupid, irresponsible, mindless but realizing when it got dark she was still hopelessly alone had been worse.

She shrugged, picking up the dessert to distract and control herself.

It was over now.

- "We'll make things right, you have my word. It will be enough to be together, there's no need to think about it" – she heard Roman assure, once again without excuses or pity, firm in his intentions – "no more car rides though"– he added with a reproachful look that made her smile.

No, there was no need to think about the past. Everything had already changed and Y/N had learned her lesson, but maybe it was time to learn something else, trying not to run away this time. It seemed easy at the time and yes it really all came down to being enough for each other, filling the void with their bond.

For days Roman's routine had always been the same, calculated to the second, with no margin for error or change. He woke up before dawn, shower, breakfast and run, spend the morning in the gym, then lunch and gym again until dinner time, after which he lock himself in the office taking care of the documents Paul brought or business that required his supervision, and then join her in bed when it was already late night and repeat everything the next day. He was locked in a bubble, focused on a single goal, counting minutes, preparing in advance for whatever would or could happen. An absolute, maniacal dedication that Y/N somehow admired. It made her proud to see that he was capable of so much and yet it also made her sad.

Because in the wild run of that family war, she was just a spectator. She repeated to herself that she had to be patient, be understanding, that she had to put aside anxieties and bad moods to support him as better as she could, but it weighed on her. She did whatever not to show it, not to think about it, and despite her efforts Y/N felt everything around her emptying and cooling, her sacrifices devalued and even ignored. They almost didn’t speak to each other anymore and certainly not about what they should have because there was no time for doing it, they didn’t spend together and when that happened he was focused on something else, Y/N had the feeling of having gone back to the days when they were two strangers, two separate worlds united by a thin wire.

She didn't want that, they weren't like that, they had both worked hard to make things work, succeeding, they had truly found themselves at the end. The idea they were affecting their relationship, the possibility to distance themselves so bad to spend a life like that, wasn't something Y/N could bear. They had overcome differences, they shouldn't have burned everything because they didn't see things the same way in war where their relationship was not in play. They just had to meet once again and remember. He had taught her that and Y/N hadn't believed him for a long time, but they really needed their bond.

On the now empty table on the patio, she opened the floor plan of her old house, the one she had had to leave and Roman had given her back. It was nothing compared to what she had now, but it could become something, maybe just for them, a place where nothing and no one could disturb them.

***

Day after day his body pushed further and further, urged by pressure, focused on a single goal from which Roman couldn’t look away. He couldn't afford any mistakes with Jey, Roman knew he could beat him and he would, but his cousin knew him better than any other out there. They were certainly on two different levels, however Roman couldn't allow him to prove anything if he wanted to regain the absolute control that the elders had questioned due to too many mistakes in those months. And it was for these reasons that getting out of his head, stopping and having those breaks had become an annoying obligation that he fulfilled in the shortest time and avoiding any extra thoughts. Lose focus was a weakness, give ground an advantage, something he couldn't tolerate.

When he closed the door behind him, the house was silent as if he were the only one around. It had been like this for a long time, but time had passed. Now it wasn’t empty, Y/N was there and not finding her in the living room as had been the case for days forced him to follow her trail to the outside. He expected to find her busy, but not to see her with all those papers on the table.

Why is she looking at them? Why she got that floor plan again?! Stop her. Now.

- "What are you doing?" – he asked, voice heavy and she immediately raised her head with a weak smile, one that she could have addressed to anyone, not to him.

- "Nothing, I was waiting for you. Is it already time for your break?"

If it was an attempt to push away the conversation or pretend, it didn't work. He knew those documents, he had signed them and he had been clear telling her not to get any strange ideas about her family's old house, and yet she was there looking at them page by page at a moment like this.

- "I asked you what you think you are doing Y/N" – he repeated seriously, convincing her to put them down.

- "I was keeping myself busy while I waited for you to finish. I answered."

He saw Y/N keep her gaze on him, head held high, back straight, but Roman still sensed what was behind, tension, heavy air. It was since he said he would no longer have regrets that Roman had seen her react like this and in the last few days the atmosphere had gotten even worse. She didn't comment, didn't ask, she stopped trying to argue, she was good at not showing it, but his wolf could sense it when he lay down next to her at night, saw the way she looked at him. It wasn't a good idea for her to punish his cousins despite what they had done to him, she couldn't stand the prospect of a fight, she had promised to stand by his side no matter what and after a year she still rejected his mark when she shouldn't have even had to choose whether to have it or not, now she also took out the floor plan of her old house even though he had given her another one, one for them, better.

We told her not to act like this, she doesn't need that house. We did everything, we gave everything to her.

He had spent the last year dedicating himself to their bond, proving time and time again that he was worthy, that he would be a good mate for her, he was doing so even facing his own family. Shielding their future family even before their bloodline was born. Jey e Jimmy had ruined his plans, it wasn’t his fault, he was risking everything for what they would have built together, for their future. He had proven who he was, Y/N had to know, no one before him had ever achieved so much, no one would ever bear such a burden, there was no alpha out there on his level able to take care of her and anyone else. She couldn't think about them again, she couldn’t doubt, it was crazy!

- "What Im doing is to keep everything for us, protect what we have" – he explained to her for the umpteenth time, seeing Y/N stop that attempt of a smile understanding what direction their conversation was taking, as he approached the table.

He didn't like losing his temper with her, he didn't want to, but Y/N had a fastlane to pushing him in any situation and that was definitely the wrong one. Why she was throwing it in his face? At home, while he spent the days preparing to end the mess out there and start again together?!

- "You say it all the time, I know."

Her and her mouth…

- "Because that's the only thing that matters, not sitting here fantasizing about alternatives."

- "Ain't fantasizing about anything. You're so focused that we don't spend more than ten minutes together, I thought we could have a break for a bit, do something together when it's all over... but I guess it's a no if you react like that."

No, she couldn't blame him. This mess wasn't his fault, he was fixing it, it wasn't on him!

- "I don't have time to plan these things, not when I have all the work to do and problems keep piling up! I told you this too. You should have get it by now what has priority and instead we are here discussing because you keep putting these ideas in your head!"

- "My apologies, my Tribal Chief, is that good?" – he heard her reply, mocking him and he froze.

He looked at her angrily, as if they were back to the days when she couldn't stand him and he was always on the verge of exploding. He looked at her out of his mind, mouth twitching, but she wasn't even giving him attention, too busy keeping her eyes somewhere other than him, in an act of submission that was more a provocation than an apology. He ran a hand over his beard, clenching his jaw, but it was just too much and he lowered himself, leaning on the table to tower over her. Her scent, so familiar, usually so comforting, immediately filled his lungs, a regenerating peace that clashed with their fatigue and that Roman felt once more from Y/N, her body stiffening as soon as his breath hit her cheek.

He was the Tribal Chief and would remain so until God woke him up again. People out there could have planned trials, clashes, attacks, anything, nothing would have changed. But she was different, she was not one of those folks. Y/N might not have his mark, she might claim every freedom she wanted, Roman would put up with it to please her, to make her happy, because she deserved it, but still didn't change anything. They wouldn't go back to those hellish days where they were nothing.

- "I'm more than that to you" – he reminded, seeing her nod.

- "I know" – she replied immediately, finally turning around.

Her eyes, dark as the water of the river that ran through Roman’s land, almost seemed to suck him in. Two sharp chasms where he had looked for her for months, until found her huddled at the bottom waiting for him. Roman had dragged her out of there, he had given her everything, all of himself and he would do it again every day, without holding back or thinking about it and that was exactly why he was acting like that. If it wasn't for him, she would still be there, alone and with no future.

- "Make that stuff disappear before I do it" – he ordered, straightening up.

Y/N didn't move, her eyes still on him, as Roman decided he'd had enough of that pause, walking away. Her reaction reached him through the bond, when he crossed the threshold to go back inside: a mixture of anger, pain and sadness.

It hurts.

It hit him like a wave, alarming his wolf despite the fight, but it disappeared just as quickly, as if Y/N had wiped it away and Roman took a second to look at her through the windows, check, while she gathered everything on the table, head down and in silence.

He had to focus on what needed to be done. Distractions were just more problems.

We’re doing it for everyone. She will understand soon.

***

She had put everything back in his office, locking the desk drawer almost throwing away the key.

Why is he acting like this? What did we do wrong?

Her she-wolf felt confused, hurt and so was Y/N, with a good amount of anger on top of that. She was trying with all of herself, she was doing everything every day to make things work, to not disappoint him, to be up to the task, to not miss the opportunity for a good life. She had learned to ignore what didn't require a reaction, to be understanding when with anyone else would have freaked out, she was trying to be a better version of herself for her sake and for Roman. Was it such a bad idea? She knew Roman was fighting for their place, for his packland, but she hadn't suggested to leave everything and disappear, she would never have done it because she knew what it meant, she just thought they might have a safe space somewhere else... in a future less sad and complicated. That house was important to Y/N, she wanted to do her part, help, give back doing something like Roman had done with the house they lived in now, share.

It's already his though.

His property... that's why he snapped?

Roman had considered it a waste of time, a fantasy to be put away... after all, why he should pay attention to something no one wanted to take away at that moment? something far from his family war, from the packland. It already belonged to him, her she-wolf was right to justify him, Y/N had pushed him first, there was nothing to share or fix there and Jimmy's words came back to her mind. She had thought about doing something for them and instead she had really wasted time.

“The house… you bought it to give her nowhere to run away from you.”

It was a gift. For us.

Roman had said so and Y/N had felt so special. But it had his name on it, everything, every sheet of paper.

He wanted to make us happy. The best for us.

“I don't want you to go there, okay? This is your place now, it's your home and you have to stay here. But one day maybe we can fix it and go together.”

One day. Maybe…

Together.

Maybe? now the memory sounded like a dad tricking his daughter into not throwing a tantrum.

Smell of aftershave mixed with something familiar distracted Y/N, reminding her that she was still in the office and she turned to stare at the door just before seeing Paul arrive with a folder of documents in his arms.

- "Y/N! I thought you were out for one of your runs" – he said after a second too long, tone surprised and suspicious, as he looked at her standing there –"… you alright? "

No one was allowed to go upstairs unless it was necessary, but business those days seemed a matter of life and death, so it was hardly surprising. The last safe place for her would have been the bathroom.

- "You seem a bit…"

- "Take comments for yourself, there's no point in having a conversation" – she said, moving away from the desk with the intention of disappearing, but Paul wouldn't have been Paul if he hadn't decided to ruin her day already messed up.

- "Of course not, but I think you’ll want to know I went to talk with the twins. Didn’t go as hoped. Jey… he doesn't listen" – he admitted with disappointment, taking her place to add more documents to those already placed everywhere and Y/N finally recognized what that other scent on him was.

- "He doesn't like you, it was pretty obvious."

The idea of talking sense to Jey had been stupid. Maybe Jimmy could have been a possibility even if he was the one who started shit, he would have talked to a wall regardless of his sympathies, but Jey? No, Jey wasn't made for those things and both him and Y/N shared the same opinion of Paul. Sure he had had more time to learn to tolerate the so called wiseman, but Y/N had known from the very first moment he wouldn't accept any proposal Paul was going to make him.

- "You do though. He allowed Solo and you to stay if… well you know – he threw it there with such nonchalance, but she wasn't willing to tolerate, it was the wrong day – "he’s attached to you, he think about you as someone to protect."

What is he trying to say?!

- "What I know is that they shouldn't fight and that you Paul, said you would make sure to avoid it."

The brilliant idea of saving her during the meeting a few days before had taken Y/N by surprise too, there was no agreement or plan behind it, she didn't even know why at that moment, with everything that was happening, Jey had decided to expose himself for her. She was almost absolutely certain it wasn't something normal in situations like the one they were in, she was Roman's mate and Jey was threatening to take everything away from him after all, but whatever was the reason it didn't matter because it wasn't what they needed to focus on, especially not Paul.

- "I fear that stopping everything is no longer an option, we don’t have time, they have sworn in front of the family now. Neither of them can back out" – heard him say with a funeral face that didn’t inspire pity in her.

- "So that ridicolous meeting was the point of no return?!" – she snapped and he choked, hands reaching out in an attempt to stop her when Y/N nerves were undergoing yet another stress test.

She respected Roman's family, she respected their traditions, but it was unthinkable to Y/N that a handshake was an unbreakable pact, not when both sides were risking everything and whoever was supposed to advise them, stop them, watched or made things worse. She couldn't, it was something she couldn’t understand. They were a family, they had to act like a family, not fighting.

- "I wouldn't talk like that, let's try to breath now okay? Think about it. There are other ways to swing things in our favor, I'm already working on something. An idea in the right ears works wonders."

- "You're working on something" – she repeated, feeling blood go straight to her head.

Yep, sure, after all they had time to act with calm, there was a week to go and everything was already a disaster, but who cared? They could also sit, chat, think and judge who remained to be sacrificed so they could sip a drink under the patio when their bright future would be on hand.

- "I know, I understand your concern, but if you decided to be more cooperative it would help a lot and speed things up. The twins are stubborn, but Jey making all these decisions on his own could work to our advantage if we prove that he isn't capable of"- he tried, but it wasn't the right day for her to listen his sneaky little games.

- "I won't help you making anyone believe anything. You are the wiseman, be the wiseman, find a way, just do it" – she silenced him, leaving the office without waiting an answer.

She wanted that fight, everything to end once and for all, she wanted to go back to months ago when Y/N had thought she could have everything missing in her life, she wanted a family, Roman to annoy her with his daily nonsense instead of dramas to survive and manipulations on a daily basis. She was tired and for the first time since the beginning even if she tried hard… she couldn't see the end.

Breath. Calm down. Don’t lose control, we can’t allow it. Breath.

***

Right, left, right, left, right, left again. The punching bag was easy to predict every time Roman hit it, Jey wouldn't follow those times when they would have been face to face. At some point he would shift, it was the only way he had to really bring Roman down. As both man and wolf, Roman was bigger than his cousin, bruises and broken bones wouldn't keep him down once they were out there, Jey would have to do more and to do so he would have no choice. He was fast, he would aim for multiple points, targeting him, Roman only needed one, the right one, like with the punching bag.

When he hit it seriously, the chain holding it up gave way, sending it down and putting Roman face to face with Solo, standing silently there, even though he hadn't asked to see him.

- "What's up?" – he asked, catching his breath and kicking the punching bag away.

- "He was talking to Y/N upstairs" – Solo said, without mincing words and Roman stopped, staring at him, his sweaty brow furrowed in an attempt to understand.

Y/N couldn't stand the wiseman. She had never liked him, from the first day, it had taken months to convince her to not growl when he approached and now they were talking? Alone upstairs, while he was there training?

- "About what?" – Roman asked, but Solo shrugged his shoulders in a heavy silence Roman had to accept, hiding his annoyance with a grimace.

First in his land. Then in his family. Now in his house. No… not that time.

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