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steddiealltheway · 5 months

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Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays :) This is way longer than I thought it would be, but it's been a while since I've written, so I think I needed it. I hope you all have a wonderful end to your year <3

Steve thought it was fate when he reached into Dustin’s old Santa hat and picked up a crumpled piece of paper with Eddie’s name scribbled on it. He had a gift stored away for Eddie that he bought weeks ago, and he was hoping there would be some way to get it to him without making it a big deal or something. Miraculously, the tiny slip of paper gave him that chance.

Now, two weeks later, Steve feels like his nerves are on fire as everyone gathers around in his living room, waiting to receive their gifts.

He goes off to the guest bedroom where the party had dropped off their gifts under the bed with the promise of not peaking - per Steve's request. Mike complained that the system was a little bit much, and Steve couldn’t argue with him. He just didn’t want to give away that he was Eddie’s secret Santa.

And now that he has pulled all the gifts out from under the bed, his stomach churns and his heart races. He just hopes his gift doesn’t cross a line or bring up unwanted memories, especially since he and Eddie aren’t exactly best friends.

Well, okay, they’re close. Considering the number of times Dustin has insisted they all hang out now that they’ve all been trauma-bonded, Steve has spent a lot of time with Eddie. But he hasn’t gotten a lot of alone time with him.

Sure, there have been a few times when Eddie has stopped by work, but Robin was always close by - not that Steve minded at all, except he got tired of the looks she would give him after Eddie left as if she was expecting Steve to say something. He doesn’t know what exactly he would say, but he will admit that it was always sad watching Eddie go. Maybe he should tell Robin he wishes he could stay a little longer, maybe even after hours.

The thought reminds him of the one moment they spent alone that Steve can't help but recall often. Even his present to Eddie is based around that moment which resulted in him purchasing something definitely higher than the price limit, but none of the kids would know that so it’s fine.

There’s a light knock on the door behind him, and Steve turns around. “Hey,” Eddie says with a small smile. “Everything okay?”

Steve smiles back, willing his heartbeat to slow down a bit. “Yeah, just trying to figure out how to get them all at once.”

“Let me help,” Eddie says, already bending over to grab half the stack that Steve had pushed out from under the bed. “You don’t happen to have a Santa suit do you?”

Steve’s eyebrows furrow. “No?”

“Damn. Next year, okay? And I want to be Santa.”

The corner of Steve’s lip quirks up and Eddie's eyes light up, looking awfully proud of himself. The two hold the gaze for a few moments longer than they should, but it’s not like that's new to them.

“Guys! What’s the holdup?!” Dustin yells.

Steve sighs and offers Eddie a now irritated smile before leading the way to the living room, glancing down at the names on each present before handing them out. He and Eddie finish around the same time, and Steve notices there are two clear spots for them in the small circle on either side of Dustin. He almost makes a snarky comment to Dustin, but he holds his tongue, knowing Max and El will shoot them irritated glares if they start bickering.

"El, why don't you go first?" Steve suggests as he sits down, not giving the rest of the kids a chance to argue about it. After all, no one is going to protest after all that El did for them.

El smiles and carefully opens her gift, but Steve spaces out a bit, lost in thought about his gift and questioning if it will be an appropriate thing to bring up in front of the kids. Eddie had shared the moment only with Steve and even hesitated in doing so, so maybe he doesn't want it to be broadcast to the kids. Shit.

Steve snaps back to reality when El knee-scoots over to Dustin, pulling him into a tight hug and thanking him for her present. Dustin flushes an interesting shade of red that Steve is definitely going to bring up later when he himself isn't panicking. For now, he moves the game along. "Alright, Dustin gets to open his gift now since he was the Secret Santa," Steve announces, nervously glancing at Eddie, hoping the excited look doesn't mean the gift is from him. He's not sure if he's ready for Eddie to open his gift yet.

Luckily, the gift is from Lucas, and Steve breathes a sigh of relief. But as the game continues and more people unwrap their gifts, Steve finds himself getting a bit impatient as he waits for someone to get their gift from Eddie. It's only when Max is last to open her gift that Steve realizes that he and Eddie are the only two remaining which means...

"No way," Eddie says with a big grin. "We're the only two who got each other."

Steve slowly looks down at the gift in his hand, neatly wrapped with a beautifully done bow that seems so unlike Eddie who always seems to be in a rush, doing everything with an almost frantic energy that Steve kind of adores. He wonders what he must've been like sitting still, carefully folding each curve of newspaper and taping it all together before neatly tying the red ribbon around the box into a beautiful bow. "You did this?" Steve can't help but ask, hoping he didn't just stick his foot in his mouth.

"Yeah," Eddie says somewhat bashfully as he pulls his hair in front of his face. "You do the honors." Eddie gestures to Steve's present and nervously rambles, "It isn't much really..."

Steve carefully undoes each fold, seeing the care Eddie took in wrapping a small box that Steve pulls the lid off of. He stares down at a small metal-looking thing and picks it up off the paper it's on top of. He presses it and startles a bit as it buzzes.

"A hand buzzer," Dustin laughs in disbelief.

"Maybe you two need to hang out more," El suggests innocently.

Eddie clears his throat. "There's a note in there, too, but you don't have to read it out loud in front of the kids or anything."

Steve keeps ahold of the little buzzer and picks up the note, staring at a few numbers in confusion before following an arrow that elaborates 24/7 Walkie Channel - especially at night. Steve flushes a bit red at the joke, but as he reads further, he realizes it's not a joke at all. In fact, he knows exactly what this is referring to.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Eddie walks up to the counter of Family Video and raps his knuckles on the counter. "Now tell me, what exactly is behind that restricted section with the red curtains?"

Steve rubs his temples and gives Eddie an unimpressed look. "You know exactly what's behind there."

"Well, maybe I want to hear it from my favorite employee. After all, you're supposed to help me with all my needs."

"Alright," Robin announces loudly, "I'm taking my break."

Steve hears the break room door shut behind him, and he drops his head in his hands with a slight groan.

"That embarrassed, Harrington? I thought you were like the expert here. Especially since Robin isn't allowed back there, but..." Eddie trails off but suddenly his voice gets much closer yet softer. "Hey, sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Sometimes I push too far without realizing and-"

Steve cuts him off with a short wave of his hand. "It's not that. You're fine really. Just didn't really sleep last night."

"Company or..." Eddie goes for a joke to lighten the second half of what he's implying.

Steve sighs and glances up at him. "It the 'or' option."

Eddie gives him a sympathetic look and glances around at the empty store before leaning on the counter, right into Steve's space, but it's comforting rather than intrusive. Eddie softly says, "I get it, man. The night terrors are... they're intense. I still see Chrissy when she..." He looks away, swallows hard, and takes a deep breath. "I get it."

Steve glances up and sees a matching haunted look in Eddie's eyes that Steve catches in the mirror from time to time. "It's harder late at night. I get this urge to reach out to everyone and make sure they're okay and..." Steve sighs and lowers his voice, "still alive." He shudders slightly and laughs humorlessly, "But it's not like I can just call everyone's house at night and wake up them and their family. I usually just wait for the urge to pass but it's harder for me with some people." Steve swallows hard, knowing what Eddie will ask next.

"Like who?"

Steve glances up at Eddie and says, "Robin of course because she's my best friend. Max is tough too because of how close she was to dying and you just never know if that thing will come back or not."

"He's gone for good this time. You know what Owens said," Eddie presses gently.

"Yeah, but I've heard it before," Steve argues. But he can't deny that things definitely feel more final now. Like maybe they're finally over. Still, he can't just let his guard down on the off chance that his gut isn't right for once.

Eddie shifts and nudges Steve's elbow with his own. "Anyone else though?"

Steve holds Eddie's gaze for a moment, and he sees the exact moment Eddie knows exactly what he's thinking as the memories of Eddie's lifeless body in Steve's arms flood in his head. "You were... gone there for a little while. And sometimes I wake up, and I think that you didn't make it. That the nightmare I keep having is actually reality."

Eddie gives him a pained look and places his hand over Steve's. "You can call me at any time. Day or night. I'll try my best to answer, especially at night."

"Eddie, I don't want to make you lose sleep any more than you already are."

"But I'm probably already awake. And I don't care if I lose sleep for you, okay?"

Steve glances up at him and flushes a bit as his eyes flicker down to Eddie's lips. For a moment, he thinks he might understand what Robin's looks mean, but he glances away before he can truly think about it. "That's not the only problem though," Steve confesses quietly.

Eddie just squeezes his hand, waiting for him to elaborate.

With a deep breath, Steve hooks his thumb on top of Eddie's pinky and squeezes back for some support. "I hate speaking in that empty house. My voice seems to echo, and it makes me feel more alone than I already am. And sometimes it feels impossible to speak about things. Like my voice doesn't work or something. I don't know."

"I get it," Eddie says simply, squeezing his hand again. "But really, if you ever need to call or stop by or anything. I'll be there." Steve holds Eddie's gaze, thinking maybe the upcoming night won't be so bad.

Before Steve can really say anything else, the bell on the front door dings loudly and he and Eddie practically jump apart. The customer doesn't even so much as glance at them, but they both still keep their distance, recognizing that the moment is over.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Steve stares at the little list in the note.

One Buzz: Checking in. I will buzz back so you know I'm okay. Two Buzzes: If you need to hear my voice. I will respond over the walkie and talk for as long as you like. Buzz multiple times, and I'll stop. And trust me, I will talk your ear off, so I won't get offended when you buzz. Three Buzzes: If you need me to call ever. Don't be afraid to use this one. Wayne is still working night shifts, so you're really no bother if you want to call first. But this way, I can be the one calling you so you don't have to worry about waking me up or anything. Really. The buzzes aren't too loud, so they shouldn't wake me up. Let me know if you want to add anything to this list. I have an identical list with my hand buzzer at home that I would be happy to add to at any time. Merry Christmas Love, Your Secret Santa

Steve stares at the note in his hand almost too stunned to speak. He doesn't think he's ever received a more thoughtful gift in his life. He pinches at his nose and tries to shut his emotions down a bit, and Eddie must catch on because he loudly announces, "My turn!"

Steve takes a deep breath, forgetting entirely about the gift he got Eddie. He watches as Eddie tears the wrapping paper off the small box then dramatically and very slowly opens it up with a big smile, knowing he has the kids' impatient attention practically in the palm of his hand. But when he finally sees the gift, his smile and whole act drop as a look of realization crosses over his face.

Steve's heart pounds in his chest.

Eddie slowly removes the little glass bottle filled with brown liquid and silently stares at it.

"What is that? Some type of fancy bourbon?" Max asks with a scoff.

Steve watches Eddie's eyes get slightly glassy, and he's quick to announce, "Something like that. But alright, we have to move on before your families start coming to pick you up. Was a snowball fight next on your cheesy list or something?"

Dustin is quick to defend the list the group came up with, but Steve is quicker in pushing them all toward the front door. "I'll be there in a bit. Eddie and I have to clean up."

The kids all rush to put on their coats and shoes, not wanting to be a part of any type of cleanup. Once they run outside, Steve closes the door and rushes back to the living room where Eddie's still staring at the bottle, a single tear going down his face. "You... you remembered... and you... you got... how?"

"Of course, I remembered," Steve says, thinking of what Eddie told him months ago.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Steve sighs and stuffs more things into a box from Eddie's closet. Dr. Owen's people had finally given the trailer the all-clear, so they were finally able to get the remainder of Eddie's and Wayne's things out of there. Of course, the kids had spent about an hour helping with the living room before taking a very very long break at Max's place. Steve assumes it will be lasting until the rest of the trailer is cleared out.

"They're great help, aren't they?" Eddie jokes as he brings another box into the room.

"Absolutely. Always willing to lend a hand. That is until they decide that the adults can just slave away for them."

"Someone needs to give them a lecture," Eddie sighs, pulling out a pile of clothes from his closet.

Steve scoots the box over and asks, "And why does that person always seem to be me? Especially when they don't listen to me."

"You're just so motherly," Eddie says with a big smile, dimples on full display.

Steve can't help but smile at the sight. And luckily he's staring his way when Eddie picks up another stack of clothes and suddenly hurdles something Steve's way. And even luckier, Steve's reflexes are quick, so he's able to easily catch the smaller glass bottle.

Eddie's eyes widen and he quickly grabs at the bottle, wrapping his hands around Steve's in the process. "Jesus H. Christ." Eddie's grip tightens as he stares at the bottle and breathes a sigh of relief, dropping his head to Steve's shoulder. "Have I ever told you that I'm so glad you're a jock?"

Steve snorts. "No, but whatever in this bottle must be important enough for you to admit it. So, tell me, what's in it? Alcohol? Some type of weird liquid drug?"

Eddie pulls back and looks away, still cradling the bottle and Steve's hands. "It's nothing. Just, hold it gently while I find another shirt to wrap it in."

Steve gently grasps the bottle and brings it closer, inspecting what it could be when he's hit with a bit of deja vu. He tests his suspicions and carefully removes the cap. "Eddie, why do you have an almost empty bottle of perfume in your closet?"

Eddie turns to him and asks, "Please, don't tell me you sprayed it."

"I didn't. The cap just gave it away."

Eddie quickly takes the bottle from his hand and puts the cap back on. "It's nothing. Like I said." He rolls it carefully in a t-shirt and places it in the box.

Steve slowly approaches and looks down at the box, frowning when he sees it start to blend in with the other pile of clothes in there. "I'll be right back," Steve announces before running out to his car. He opens the trunk and sighs, grabbing a shoe box and carefully placing his emergency date shoes in the corner of the trunk before taking the box inside.

When he gets back to the room, he reaches into the bigger box, fishes the shirt-wrapped perfume out, and places it gently into the shoe box before setting it aside. Steve glances up and notices Eddie staring at him. "Is that the emergency date shoe box?"

Steve is going to give the kids or Robin a lecture later about giving away people's personal information. "Yes," he admits.

"So, where are the shoes?"

"In my trunk," Steve says, moving onto Eddie closet to grab the last of the clothes.

Eddie pauses before asking, "You put your emergency date shoes the kids told me to never touch in your trunk to give me a box for my perfume?"

Steve shrugs. "Yeah." He stuffs everything down and closes the box, pushing it toward the door. But he's stopped by Eddie's hand on his arm.

"Why?" Eddie asks.

Steve straightens up and puts his hands on his hips. "It's clearly important to you, and I wasn't going to let you forget about it and accidentally throw it again when I'm not there to catch it."

Eddie holds his gaze for a few moments and Steve almost breaks the eye contact, not used to having Eddie's attention directly solely at him. But he feels like that will change in the future.

Eddie shifts and places a hand on Steve's back, leading him to where he placed the box. He picks it up and opens it, slowly unraveling the perfume and staring at it as if debating if he wants to share the story with Steve.

Steve just waits, not wanting to pressure him. Instead, he lets the moment play out.

Eddie breathes out, "It was my mom's."

It hits Steve all at once the implication of the phrase.

"She would wear it all the time. I remember she would put it on once in the morning, once in the afternoon, and once before going to bed. I told her it was silly to do that before bed, but she told me it was only silly if I let it be." Eddie smiles at the memory before growing distant in his expression. "When she got sick, she started forgetting the time more and more. So, I would remind her. And toward the end, I started putting it on her when she felt too weak to spray it."

Steve shifts and lightly rests his hand on Eddie's back as he continues, "I told my dad that she should be buried with it. That she would want to have it with her and wear it all the time." Eddie's voice cracks a bit and he clears his throat. "He told me that was silly."

Steve shifts closer to Eddie so their sides are pressing together, trying to give him physical support because he's unsure of what to say.

Eddie shakes his head and smiles sadly. "I kept it since then. And I used to spray it all the time, and god, the guys at school would make fun of me for smelling like girl's perfume, but I didn't care. But maybe I should've listened to them because now I only have this much left." He holds up the bottle to emphasize his point, the perfume so low that it seems to barely cover the bottom of the glass.

"One time, I brought it to a perfume store to ask what brand it was. I thought maybe I could save up and buy another one." Eddie shakes his head again. "But the lady accused me of stealing it. She said there was no way I would've been able to afford it in the first place. That there was no reason for me to even have it unless I was looking for a cheap buck to make."

Steve's grip on Eddie's back presses a little firmer as he feels anger and disgust toward the woman overflood his system. "That's fucked up."

"A bit, yeah," Eddie agrees. He glances at Steve, and Steve realizes how close they are, but he doesn't try to move away. "Do you want to smell it?"

Steve's brows furrow. "Eddie, there's barely any left in there, don't waste it on me."

Eddie smiles somewhat bashfully. "No, it's alright. I haven't used it in a long time, and after everything we went through, I need the reminder."

"If you're sure, then yes. I would love that."

Eddie holds out his wrist and lightly sprays the perfume. He uses his other wrist to rub it in before he holds it up to Steve's nose. Steve takes a deep breath and is suddenly taken back to a vague memory from a Christmas years and years ago when Steve was too young to succumb to the disappointment from his parents who were still around. But it's a happy memory nonetheless.

"What do you think?" Eddie asks.

Steve smiles softly. "I think your mom had great taste. And it smells really beautiful. I wish I could've met her."

"Me too," Eddie replies softly, staring at the bottle.

-:-:-:-:-:-

"My mom had the same one. Years ago it was gifted to her. I ended up finding the bottle in one of the drawers in her bathroom. It was still in the box, so it wasn't too difficult to find at the store," Steve admits. He holds out his hand and says, "Here. I have to show you something."

Eddie carefully places the perfume back in the box and takes Steve's hand, following him up the stairs and into his room. Steve regrettably lets go of Eddie's hand to pull out a box from under his own bed. He holds it up to Eddie who gasps, "Steve, this must have cost you a fortune."

Steve glances down at the five boxes of perfume and shrugs. "There was a Christmas sale. Plus, I was able to use my Harrington charm a bit."

Eddie grabs the box and carefully sets it on Steve's bed before quickly wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him in close. "Thank you. God, this is the best gift I've ever gotten."

Steve squeezes him tight. "Same with yours."

They remain in each other's arms for a few moments, not rushing the embrace or questioning how long they're allowed to linger. Only, when Steve starts pulling away, he starts questioning his next move. Because more than anything he wants to kiss Eddie.

The realization hits him hard. He knows exactly now what Robin's glances mean and what she's been expecting him to say. Of course, deep down he knew, but he just hadn't had to face it head-on yet. But here he is and... "Eddie," Steve says softly, lingering in his space.

"Steve," Eddie replies quietly, eyes flickering down to Steve's lips, already knowing what he means.

Steve takes a deep breath, feeling his heart pound in his chest as he asks, "Can I?"

"Hell yes," Eddie replies.

They both move together at the same time, meeting each other in a gentle kiss which they linger in. Steve moves away to breathe and shifts to cup Eddie's face with his hands and bring him in again. He kisses him with all he has, filled with the awe of the thoughtful gift he received, joy of the gift well received, and the overwhelming feeling that this is right.

Steve breaks the kiss with a smile and whispers, "Merry Christmas, Eddie."

"Merry Christmas, Steve," Eddie says breathlessly before kissing him again.

And it really is a merry Christmas.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #merry christmas #steddie christmas

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ghostdrinkssoup · 1 year

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something I find really interesting about hannibal’s character is how he uses people’s expectations and ingrained assumptions to hide himself. no one suspects he’s a serial killer because he doesn’t present as one. he’s elegant and refined and isn’t cruel to animals. he’s highly sophisticated, a polyglot and has a deep admiration for beauty and life. he appreciates saving lives just as much as he appreciates ending them. in fact, this particular aspect of his character is partly why it takes will the entirety of s1 to accept hannibal’s true nature. will saw hannibal save abigail and accompany her to the hospital in apéritif and he also saw hannibal save a man’s life by performing emergency surgery and taking over the operation at the end of sorbet.

this moment in particular is interesting because of how it’s framed to make hannibal look almost godly from will’s point of view:

1) hannibal is positioned immediately higher than will due to being in the ambulance, meaning will is looking up at hannibal, while hannibal is looking down on him

2) hannibal is standing under a bright light as he works to save this guy’s life, while will is standing in almost complete darkness

3) the usual orchestral, classical music is playing in the background, emphasising the apparent “holiness” of the act and framing hannibal as some sort of saviour

the impact of this scene is even more potent when considering the context of the rest of the episode, since will has already stated that the ripper is not the type to save people or enact mercy on anyone. his style of murders doesn’t suggest this characteristic whatsoever, and although will’s assessment is correct, hannibal’s personality and overall demeanour doesn’t match what we’d imagine a person like that might look like. I think will is confronted by this as well, because even if hannibal’s surgical skill means he matches the ripper’s profile (which makes him a valid suspect) his actions contradict will’s image of the ripper, while simultaneously affirming it:

it’s difficult to reconcile these facets of hannibal’s character. it’s inherently contradictory and defies our cultural expectations. nonetheless, hannibal’s inclination to save people is sometimes more insidious than his murders. he doesn’t save people out of altruism, he does it because he thinks he’s superior and enjoys deciding outcomes. he doesn’t view himself as insane, he views himself as god. this is most aptly explored in takiawase, through the acupuncturist/beekeeper killer. here we see a murderer who confesses that she killed a man to quiet his mind, and tells jack that it’s beautiful that she managed to protect him and her other patients. this is one side of hannibal’s character, the one who’s a doctor and therapist and sees death as a cure from disease, even if the ‘disease’ itself is literally just discourtesy. it’s ultimately an act of power.

and yet in this same episode he flips a coin and saves bella on a whim. this of course is framed to others as an act of mercy, however the reality is he took bella’s power away in an act disguised as kindness. once again, he hides in plain sight. this is the other side of his character, and it’s just as deadly.

it’s still about power.

but we don’t associate acts of mercy with monstrosity. when hannibal comforts abigail in trou normand we question whether he’s as bad as we think, because what negative connotations are tied to paternal tenderness? we miss that hannibal is fostering dependency, that he literally looks dead in the eyes as he holds her, and that he blatantly just told us that he’s using abigail to manipulate will:

hannibal often does this actually. he either directly says what he’s doing or suggests that he’s the culprit (often through cannibal puns, as we know) but no one ever interprets him correctly because doing so would contradict the image he’s carefully constructed for himself. it would cause too much dissonance.

and what’s fascinating is that on a subtextual level this is largely what the show is about. the story is an exploration of societal roles and the struggle to fit into stiff categorisation and expectations. will parallels hannibal in this regard because he’s desperately trying to repress his identity by taking on certain roles. and the audience is lured by this persona the same way the characters are lured by hannibal because will defies our understanding of certain tropes. on a genre level, will assumes the detective archetype, meaning we are primed to think he’s inherently good. when we see him say he wants to save people we believe him, even though he often only does so to prove to himself that he’s a good person. will is indeed righteous, a characteristic we often view positively, however he’s violent, wrathful and actively enjoys murder due to how powerful it makes him feel. he’s not dissimilar to hannibal, we just don’t see this straight away because doing so would disrupt our understanding of good and evil.

will hides the same way hannibal does, except will hides from us as well

#ghostie once again goes on a tangent #but it’s so !! I really love how the show fucks with everyone #and uses our expectations to do it #even on a narrative/genre level #the key to unveiling it is letting that conditioning and urge to categorise everything go #also wow I’m back to writing meta hello there #nbc hannibal #hannibal #will graham #hannigram #hannibal meta #ghost speaks

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sugar-grigri · 3 months

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Nayuta ? Or Makima ? Neither : Nayuta Hayakawa

What I already find fantastic It's that EVERYTHING, absolutely everything in this chapter has to be interpreted in reverse. If you want to know what it's about, you have to interpret it normally. To find out the answer, in reverse.

How did I come to this conclusion? The first part gives you the key :

An unknown lady comes to Nayuta's defense: she's only a child, don't attack her! Open your eyes! Come back to your senses for a second!

And even though Barem is there to trap her, paradoxically, humanity regains its senses, not by seeing Nayuta as just a child, but precisely by removing her status: she is indeed a threat to them.

You've already interpreted it right side up, so let's continue interpreting it upside down

The fact that she pities Denji and wants his heart doesn't mean that Nayuta is Makima, or that she's becoming Makima again.

Makima has never felt pity - she's never even seen Denji at all - so having pity is already a step in the right direction.

The former control demon was so powerful but also so distant that she couldn't even distinguish between human and CSM odors.

As for the fact that she wants his heart, Nayuta feels it before searching Denji's memory. This doesn't mean that the control demon instinctively wants to capture CSM. When Nayuta wants his heart, it's because she wants to be loved, and it's such a strange sensation that she feels lost.

What's more, when she repeats the plan of her former self, in reality, the equation is not at all the same. Even with the same plan, Makima and Nayuta don't follow the same trajectory. Let me explain: making Denji happy and then drastically taking everything away from him is the basis, but the control demon's position is different.

Makima wasn't enjoying this happiness, she was completely excluded from it. Whereas Nayuta is completely enmeshed in Denji's happiness, to the point of being genuinely happy about it too. This happiness was brutally taken away, and that's what happened, but it wasn't the control demon's fault this time.

What's more, Makima wanted a family even though she had no idea what it was, whereas Nayuta has a family but no idea what she is. That's a different question!

Once again, this chapter should be read through a staggering mirror.

The fact that she sees Denji as empty again shows that Nayuta sees Denji more as a shell than Makima, who was obsessed by the heart, by Pochita.

Moreover, the chapter betrays this way of presenting Nayuta, she's not cold like Makima, she can have fun like a child and does so sincerely, it's not a facade, simply a questioning of her own person.

I know that everything I'm saying may sound strange, especially when, if you pay attention to the staging, Denji and Nayuta are constantly going round in circles, faster and faster.

So this chapter gives the impression that everything is the confirmation of a cycle that's closing: Denji realizes once again that he has no family, while Nayuta reconnects with her old self

But for me, that's a hasty interpretation: don't read this chapter, just enjoy the last drop of it, so let's get on with it!

When Denji tells Nayuta that he's her family, it's not her who tells him that he should be ashamed of uttering such nonsense, it's Denji himself.

Denji finds it ridiculous to talk about family without understanding its meaning, after all, how can a child who has experienced the worst crime of all, parricide, understand what it means to be a family?

It's precisely by wanting to become Chainsaw Man that he understands.

His father, his blood relative, was not a parent, he mistreated his child: a parent doesn't behave like that.

Pochita is Denji's family, and he has a blood link with him; he's even the one who irrigates his veins: he's his heart.

What is Chainsaw Man? Nothing more than an empty shell, a bit of an answer to everything, on whom we pin all our hopes.

Makima did the same thing: this unattainable thing, this hero of the underworld, I'm unhappy because I can't reach him, so mathematically, if I could reach him, I could aspire to happiness.

Nayuta has achieved it, but she still seems to be going through existential crises: this makes sense, because once again, Chainsaw Man is an empty shell.

Denji lost his family, his pets died, so automatically, the response was to aspire to something else, to turn the page immediately by closing my eyes and becoming Chainsaw Man because !!!! Because Denji wanted to become this empty shell

Once again, logically, he became one, because by losing his family, the happiness that filled him, he became an empty shell.

But an empty shell is not to be understood in a purely pejorative sense, for a shell can contain anything: humanity's need for reassurance, the great enemy for demons to slay, the means to fight death, happiness, family... and so on.

When Pochita asks Denji what he plans to do after he achieves his first dream, Denji replies: to be Chainsaw Man.

To be an empty shell, yes, but empty in order to be filled by others, just as someone who is alone would tie up with others, just as the control devil would want CSM so she won't be alone, just as a wounded dog would agree to ally itself with a child who doesn't want to die either…

Having your family destroyed, but still managing to move on while building a new one, being surrounded by so many people that you forget your own pain, surviving better together in a terrible environment - that's the Hayakawa family.

As we've seen, Nayuta talks about a happiness that will then be destroyed. It's a good tactic to follow this plan, because that's what Makima did with the Hayakawa family, but as we've seen, Nayuta is part of this happiness that's doomed to be destroyed, so she's part of this family that constantly dies, burns and then rises from the ashes.

Nayuta doesn't know who she is, but what we do know is that she has a definite attachment to Denji, and above all, she's trying to understand who she really is through this boy she wants to shower with happiness. The fact that both of them are empty shells who are influenced by the other, Nayuta adopts Denji's ways, Denji puts Nayuta above everything else. This action of surviving together, this intertwined suffering and happiness, is precisely what Chainsaw Man is all about.

When Denji loses his family again, his dogs and his cat, he pushes Nayuta away. Denji realises that being him, being Chainsaw Man, will always be accompanied by pain, so he tries to cut the ties with the last person close to him. He does this without even understanding what it means to be a family.

Yet chapter 155 explicitly answers it. The beginning of the chapter opens with Nayuta about to be attacked and ends with Denji lying there, cared for and safe. Denji may never be able to describe what a family is, but it is something that can be felt, the shared suffering and happiness of living together, and it is something that can be seen : being protected.

Denji's cycle is not to kill his parents, it's the cycle of neglect, of lack of protection. Denji's father failed to protect him, leaving him in the hands of the mafia. And what Denji does is fail to understand what it means to belong to a family, to protect others, because he has abandoned his little sister to her fate.

Nayuta also had her answer, she wanted to repeat what her former self had done, what was accomplished by one of her former followers, Barem : lose the happiness you've built up.

And indeed, she understood what she was: someone who belongs to a family, even when that family goes completely off the rails, and her first instinct was to protect Denji and get him to safety. Denji opened the door for Nayuta, who looked at him as an empty shell, and who then saw so much of herself in him that she protected him at the risk of jeopardising her own safety.

This doomed happiness, belonging to a family, sacrificing oneself - that's the Hayakawa. And when she realises that she too has become part of this doomed family, Nayuta paradoxically knows better who she is : Nayuta Hayakawa.

By inundating this empty boy with happiness, she also becomes part of a vicious, ever-accelerating cycle. Her dogs and cat have already paid the price.

Makima and Nayuta are right: happiness under threat is what awakens Chainsaw Man. After all, it was in front of a burnt down house that a new contract was signed with Pochita. And when this new dream came about, it was when a bird was crushed. The bird represents the cycles: Bucky who opens part 2, Asa the new protagonist who lives again thanks to Yoru in the form of an owl. Crushing it represents its end. Being Chainsaw Man means avoiding becoming that empty shell again by preserving the fragile happiness inside.

As Aki learns that he, like Power, will be killed by Chainsaw Man, the cycle of his family's condemnation, Denji is also finally revealed, confronted with his own destiny.

How can we put an end to the cycle of neglect? The broken and unhappy destinies ? How can we turn Chainsaw Man into an instrument of struggle ?

Will Denji remain the product of this cycle of neglect, watching his loved ones die in his arms, condemned like his brother to try to protect them when it's already too late?

Will Denji realise that when he crushed the raven, Nayuta was on his back, and that she needs to be in his arms, protected, to end the cycle? Will Denji finally wake up and try to be a bit less of an idiot?

And realise that to be Chainsaw Man, he needs a foundation: his family.

As his memories of Nayuta flashed past, Denji realised that he had put an end to the cycle, that he had touched with his fingertips a form of happiness despite the loss of his previous siblings. As he realised this fragile happiness, Pochita asked him what he wanted next: to be Chainsaw Man. Not the man who kills his loved ones, not the man you die for. The one who will protect this fragile happiness like a tower of cards.

#chainsaw man #csm #csm part 2 #csm spoilers #csm 155 #chainsaw man 155 #denji hayakawa #nayuta hayakawa #aki hayakawa #makima #my thoughts

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zorosimpclub · 4 months

Text

bodyguard – Zoro NSFW

characters: bodyguard!zoro roronoa x bratty fem!reader (he's your bodyguard)

hate sex, degrading, light choking, mild angst with happy ending | smut | 18+ only – MDNI

word count: 4.8k

She lifted her gaze from her phone, scowling at the sound of someone clearing their throat. Standing before her was her bodyguard – a tall, muscular man with strikingly handsome features, almost like he was sculpted by the gods. His cropped green hair framed his sharp eye, and his snug-fitting black shirt showcased his well-built physique, exuding an air of both strength and professionalism.

"Hey Mr. Roronoa." She quickly fake smiled – she hated having to do that especially when she was annoyed but she had a reputation to maintain. Sure, the man had been her personal bodyguard for the past year or so, but she even had to put up a facade around him. He pissed her off so much and it was clear that she pissed him off but he was great at his job and it didn’t hurt that he was very easy on her eyes.

The green haired man looked her up and down, his eye narrowed. His gaze met with her scowl, feeling an ever so tiny smirk form on his lips but he wiped it away in an instant before she could process it. Despite his distaste for spoilt celebrities, the generous paychecks kept him in the business.

“Miss.”

"Let’s go, I’m drained. I need to get home and decompress." She huffed and started walking.

“Hm.” He replied simply, he took note of her attitude but chose to ignore it.

His footsteps followed close to hers as she walked. When she stopped, he did too. When she took her first step, so did he. He was at her every move – something, despite all the time they spent together, she was still not used to.

"You don't have to be so hot on my heels." She quirked her eyebrows and shot him a distasteful look.

“Hm, your safety is my main priority, Miss.” His voice was monotone, eye fixed on every corner around her, carefully scanning their surroundings. He had no intention of slacking behind or walking ahead of her, and he made sure she followed too.

His muscles flexed underneath his black shirt, and his height was quite intimidating. When he looked at her she felt like she was nothing more than a mouse compared to his towering size.

"Still not much of a talker, are you?" She carried on walking with her sunglasses disguise, it was only a matter of time before someone recognised her and flooded her, asking for pictures or autographs.

“I only talk if it’s mandatory.”

He didn’t want to be here, he was only here for the insane amounts of money he was paid for such a simple escort. His eye kept on scanning, and his footsteps remained the same, no intention of slowing down or walking ahead of her.

"It's mandatory now." Her eyes rolled in a display of exasperation, but a fake smile plastered her face as her real personality peeked through for a second.

He was onto her and she knew it. He saw right through her most of the time and it pissed her off. To the outer world, she was cheery and bubbly, but in reality, she was just a cynical brat who found keeping the act up exhausting. Nevertheless, she wasn't going to let him see her real side. A very small smirk grew to his lips at her exasperation.

"Is that so?" His voice was still monotone, his steps matching hers.

His gaze drifted, landing on hers momentarily. It felt as if sparks had ignited between them, he shrugged it off quicker than he thought that… after all, he couldn’t even stand her.

"Yes, just fill the silence.”

"Alright, how many of your fans know you’re a brat?”

His eye focused on her body as they walked, his smirk still present. He couldn't deny it, she was extremely attractive and had curves in all the right places. Zoro wasn’t one to indulge in his desires but today, he let himself enjoy the view. Her eyes widened for a split second, caught off guard by the question but being the true professional she was, she composed herself and flashed him another fake smile,

"What do you mean Mr. Roronoa? I'm no brat, how mean.”

“Let’s not kid each other, I see right through your little act.” There was a glint in his eye, he wasn’t falling for the whole nice girl act she was trying to sell him, he was around her long enough to pick up on all the subtle eye rolls and expression shifts.

“So, how many know? Or do you like playing the good girl when everyone is around?” Her presence pissed him off, he could feel his jaw clench automatically but he had to remind himself to not let her get to him.

"Maybe you've got me all wrong? Anyway, we're nearly at my house so you can just leave once I'm safely indoors."

She continued fake smiling and walked ahead of him, smile dropping when her face was out of his line of sight. He noticed it. He saw everything. How annoying. It seems that he was going to be a handful.

Just as she turned into her road she felt someone grab her wrist and yank her forward. The sudden grab of her wrist startled her, making her let out a shriek of surprise.

She looked up in horror only to find a strange man smiling creepily at her, "Y/N, I'm your biggest fan! Please marry me! You're the only one for me!"

Zoro reacted quickly to the situation, not a moment passed before he grabbed the man’s fingers that were wrapped around her wrist.

“Let go.” He spoke, his voice cold and unforgiving.

"W-who are you? She is mine!" The stranger babbled with fear in his eyes.

Zoro’s eye narrowed, he wasn’t going to give into this man’s tantrums. Not one bit. He had an insane level of self-control, even when he was tempted to snap this man's wrist, he still didn’t. He didn’t let his temper get that far.

“You heard me, let her go before I’m forced to take more drastic measures.”

The man screamed slightly with wide eyes, scrambling away after looking at the look on his face, "Y-you're a monster!”

A small smirk rose to his lips at the man’s words. It was a pleasant sight to watch the stranger scurry away.

“I’ve been called worse things than that.”

His attention shifted to her once again, she seemed stunned by his actions. No matter how many times the man protected her, each time was just as stunning. He did everything so gracefully, her heart hammered in her chest.

"H-he ran away just from one look..."

“You’d be surprised of what I’m capable of.” His voice was still monotone, but this time she could feel the slight edge to his tone. He turned to her and lightly grabbed her wrist to examine it.

“Are you alright? He didn’t hurt you in any way?”

"N-no... I'm just... just a little shaken up." She couldn't even hide how she really felt, it was definitely a scary experience, she was so glad he was there to save her.

"Thanks for saving me. Again.”

He continued to stare at her with his piercing gaze, it felt like he could look straight into her soul.

Her sudden thanks caught him off guard, he almost forgot how normal it was for people to thank and praise him. He didn’t feel much from it any more, it was simply a job that he was good at.

“It’s my duty.” He replied with a sharp tone, his grip on her wrist loosening.

Pulling her keys from her pocket, she unlocked her house cautiously. She was still on edge and didn't feel comfortable being left alone.

"Hey...I know your job is just to escort me to and from places but... do you think you could come in? I feel a bit uneasy being alone." She was normally okay on her own but today felt different.

A slight flicker of his eye met hers as she unlocked her house, they remained locked on hers as she spoke. It took him a moment to respond.

“Under one condition.”

“Okay.”

"You show me your real personality, no fake smiles or playing the part bullshit."

She knew he wasn’t playing any games with her this time. She may have seemed to be a kind hearted famous woman, but he saw through the fake smiles and knew that it was all a facade.

"This is the real me, but okay." She fake smiled at him once again and let him inside her house, making her way to the kitchen. "Do you want some tea or coffee?”

"Coffee, no sugar or milk." He replied, his eye following her every movement as she went to the kitchen. She was such an easy person to read, even when she tried to hide who she really was.

In a way he found it amusing how she tried to keep up this little act despite giving her real personality away. Zoro wasn't one to play games but he already decided then and there that he was going to make her break character. He hated that nasally high voice that she used around her fans, or the way she flashed them fake smiles. He had enough.

She nodded and started to brew them both a cup of coffee. "So Mr. Roronoa, how was your weekend?”

"Good. So how long are you going to keep up this fake attitude?" His voice was still monotone, he wasn't going to show her any genuine emotions. She could have the privilege of seeing that side of him but she had to earn it. He took a seat at her dining table, still watching her every move like a hawk.

She was starting to get pissed off but she forced another smile, setting down the coffee mug in front of him, "Like I said, this is my real personality."

Her face was smiling but if he was observant, he could hear the undertones of frustration in her sweet voice.

“Hmm, I think I’m starting to get a better picture from this little interaction.”

She really thought she could put up an act and keep it going in front of him, but no matter how hard she tried, he saw clear through it. He took a sip of the coffee, he didn’t even thank her, he was just looking at her with a condescending smirk.

"What do you mean?" the smile still on her face, as she took a sip from her coffee.

“You’re not as innocent as you try to make yourself out to be.” His voice was still monotone and from in the corner of his eye he saw the slight shift in her body language. He was getting to her.

“Your little act has run dry, I see right through it. I can tell that behind this innocent facade is a brat. Am I wrong?”

She clenched her jaw slightly, unclenching it quickly after reminding herself that she had to remain calm, "You're wrong.”

His smirk became more prominent at her answer, he was enjoying this a little too much. Her attempt to remain innocent was clearly no match for him.

“Oh is that so? Let's do an experiment then.”

"Go ahead." Irritation coursed through her veins as he skilfully prodded at her patience, in short, he knew how to push her buttons.

He looked at her, eye narrowing in thought. His gaze remained for what felt like a moment too long for her, but she didn't look away.

“I’ll do something and you will just have to keep your cool. If you fail, I will get a better idea of how you really react under stressful situations. Does that sound good?”

"Fine." She was determined to keep up her cheerful, innocent persona at all costs.

The corners of Zoro's muscles flexed slightly. His lips twisted into an amused smile as he watched her face. He set his coffee down and tilted his head slightly.

"I'm not going to sugarcoat anything I say and I will be as brutally blunt as possible. If you can't handle what I say then please tell me so I can stop, Miss."

"I already said fine didn't I?" She grinned through gritted teeth.

He raised an eyebrow at her words, she was trying her best to suppress her frustration, but it was so obvious that she was pissed off. He remained firm and unmoved, it seemed like he had complete control of himself, and this made her even more frustrated.

“Alright then, first off, you're not that attractive as everyone makes you out to be. I don’t see what all the hype is about.”

She felt herself get ticked off but wasn't going to let him win this and see her ugly side. "Okay.”

He smirked slightly, knowing that this was getting to her. She was struggling not to snap, holding her tongue as best as she could.

"You're also not the greatest singer either, your songs sound like they were written by a rat on a keyboard. And what's with your fake laughs when people make jokes? What's with the fake cheering and smiling when someone compliments you? You're just an entitled brat." He added on.

She bit her bottom lip to stop herself from yelling at him, he was bruising her ego and it was obvious. But she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her real side.

He noticed her biting her lip, as the corners of his eyebrows raised upwards, and he smirked slightly. He was definitely getting under her skin, she was barely keeping it together. He didn't know how much longer she could keep it up.

"I could just tell by looking at you that you're spoiled, even your voice sounds so whiney and you speak in a condescending manner. The way you dress is also very unappealing, my Grandma dresses better than you."

That was the breaking point. She snapped, a surge of anger propelling her into action. With determined long strides, she closed the distance between them and sharply commanded, "Shut the hell up.”

Now he had her, he saw the moment her facade completely shattered and she finally lost her cool.

Zoro smirked and tilted his head slightly as if to mock her but he was honestly rather interested in her reaction. She was much more of a brat then he had originally thought.

Her sharp commands were met with his unmoving stare, showing no signs of fear or intimidation.

"What? Struck a nerve, Miss?"

She gripped his tight shirt and pulled him down to her face, "I said. Shut. The. Hell. Up.”

There was a moment of resistance when she grabbed his shirt, he refused to budge for a moment until she tugged at it sharply. His eye looked down at her angrily, the corners of his lips curled up into a sadistic smile. His stare intensified when she spoke. He stayed like this for a moment before he spoke sharply, his voice now just as cold.

"Make me."

She doesn't know what came over her, perhaps it was the intensity of the anger and attraction she felt towards him, but she pulled him in closer and crashed her lips harshly on his. Her sudden actions took him by surprise, he didn't think she would be this rash, but it wasn't unwanted, at least from him. When she crashed her lips against his, it wasn't soft and passionate, this kiss held a lot of force that made him feel like she wanted to scream at him.

It wasn't bad though, in fact, it was electric and Zoro took control quickly by wrapping his arms around her waist. His lips locked with hers, their tongues fighting for dominance in an aggressive but satisfying way.

–

“Hmmm, I guess you like it rough." he teased as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her even closer.

“Shut up and kiss me idiot.” She snapped and blushed a little as she felt his touch on her.

Zoro chuckled softly against her lips before complying, deepening their kiss once more. His hands roamed up her back, entwining in her hair as he took control of the passionate exchange.

He pulled away and gripped her hair softly, “Looks like you’re not he good girl your fans think you are.”

She gasped and furrowed her brows to snap a response at him but he moved his fingers teasingly on her inner thigh. “S-shut up…”

Zoro hummed softly in response, kissing her neck. He smirked to himself as he felt her body tremble with anticipation, "You're mine to order around now."

“Y-you wish!” She gripped his wrist and panted in need.

Laughing softly, Zoro leaned down to capture her lips once more, his free hand sliding down her thigh, teasingly close but not quite touching her clit. He continued their heated kiss, his tongue dancing with hers.

“I’m going to ruin you, understand? A brat like you, who pretends to be an angel to the outside world, needs to be punished.”

“Fuck you…” She spat out but she loved how he made her feel, “P-please…”

"Please what?" He asked, leaning in closer to her ear as he traced another path up her thigh with his fingertip. "Tell me what you want, brat.”

“Shut up and respect me!” She wouldn’t admit but she loved him treating her like a slut, degrading her whilst the rest of the world worshipped the ground she walked on.

“You want me to respect you? You think a fucking brat like you deserves my respect?" Zoro asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're a fucking mess, look at you craving the disrespect."

She felt her body heat up at his words, he was right, she wanted to be disrespected by him. “Y-you’re wrong!”

"Am I?" He smirked, his finger finally reaching her core, teasingly rubbing circles around her swollen, sensitive nub. "You're not fooling anyone, sweetheart. You're mine to break and make."

She bit back a moan and glared at him as he toyed with her body, it felt so good but she would never give him the satisfaction of knowing that. “You wish!”

“I don’t wish, I know that you are.” His hand snaked around her waist, pulling her body against his as he continued to tease her with his fingers. “Look at you, you’re so weak and pathetic, you love being a slut don’t you?.”

“Shut up and fuck me right now!” She moaned against his chest as he toyed skilfully with her clit.

"Is that an order or a plea?" He asked, chuckling softly into her ear before sliding his fingers inside her, finally giving her the release she'd been craving. "Dirty little whore."

“R-Roronoa!” She arched her back and cried out as she edged towards her climax.

"Zoro." He corrected her sternly, feeling her body shudder underneath him. "Cum for me." His fingers continued to work their magic, pushing her over the edge once more with his cock throbbing in response to her sweet moans.

“Nnnn…” She writhed around in his grip as he overstimulated her with his fingers.

He pulled his fingers out of her, licking them clean without breaking eye contact. “Get on your fucking knees slut. It’s time that I put you in your place.”

She slid down slowly, her eyes still fixated on his lustful ones. She hated him, he hated her yet the feeling that was brewing between right this instant was so foreign.

“Unzip me and suck my dick.” He commanded roughly, coldness in his tone.

Her hands reached for his zipper and pulled it down, breath shaky from the pleasure she felt before. Without missing a beat, she gripped his cock and pumped it slowly before taking it in her mouth.

“Yes, that's it." He groaned, his hands finding their way to her hair. "Suck it like the filthy brat you are."

She took him deeper in her mouth, slobbering on him. It seemed that the pace was too slow for him though, so he ended up gripping her hair tighter and fucking her mouth roughly.

"Fuck!" He growled, his hips bucking forward as he lost control. His cock throbbed in her mouth, her warmth and wetness driving him wild.

She felt tears well up in her eyes, as he slapped her cheek lightly – it felt so good. She wanted more and more. She was slowly becoming addicted to him.

Zoro watched her closely, the mix of pleasure and pain etched on her face. "That's it." he whispered, his voice hoarse. "You like it rough, don't you?" He pulled her off his cock, leaving her gasping for air. "Stand up."

She complied immediately and got up without a word, her once bratty mouth quiet and anticipating.

"Good girl." he praised, grabbing her hair again. He positioned himself at her entrance, his cock at her tight entrance. "You're going to take every inch of me, aren't you?"

“S-shut up…” although she was a desperate, sloppy mess for him, she felt part of her ego and pride peak through. She wouldn’t back down without a fight.

“You’ve already lost." he spat angrily, slamming into her in one swift motion. Her gasp turned into a moan as he filled her up, claiming her body as his own. He started thrusting, his movements rough and demanding, her body moving with him. "Now take what you've been begging for, I'll fuck you till you're nothing but a sobbing mess."

She leaned her head against his chest as he fucked her standing up. He loved watching all of her expressions as he had his way with her, all these faces that he hadn’t seen before. But that wasn’t enough. He wanted more. Zoro pulled out of her, gripped her wrist and pulled her to her window only to push her against it. He wanted the whole world to see her getting fucked by him.

She gasped when she felt her breasts come into contact with the cool window, “W-what are you doing?!”

"I'm teaching you a lesson," he growled, slamming back into her. "You're a dirty little whore, and the world needs to know it. Let them watch as I pound into your needy cunt.”

She didn’t even care at the thought of anyone seeing her at this point, she was focused on the intense pleasure she was feeling as he skilfully thrusted into her, hitting the right spot over and over again.

His eye darkened with lust as he watched her face twist in pleasure. He loved seeing her like this, so open and vulnerable. Zoro slammed into her harder, grunting with the force of his thrusts. "That's it, brat. Take it all."

“Please… please… more!”

“More?" he asked, his voice laced with disbelief. "You want more?" He pulled out of her and quickly slid back in, his cock rubbing against her G-spot.

"How about this?" he growled, starting to pound into her harder than ever, making sure to hit that very spot over and over again.

She screamed in pleasure, not caring who heard and threw her head back against his chest, “Y-Yes! Right there!”

His heart pounded in his chest, matching the rhythm of their bodies. The sound of her screams, her pleas, fueled him further. He gripped her hips tighter, his other hand reaching up to hold onto her neck, marking her as his.

She felt her orgasm near and started fucking herself onto his cock, desperate for release.

He groaned at the feel of her tightening around him. The pleasure was too much, it was almost unbearable. "Cum for me." he growled, thrusting deeper into her. "Cum on my cock, brat. Let the world know how desperate you are!"

She came undone and creamed around his cock as she let out a string of moans, “Zoro!”

Her screams echoed in his ears, driving him to the edge. He was close too, he could feel it – the way she gripped around his cock was too much for him. “Where do you want my cum, you pathetic whore?”

“I-Inside! Please!” She couldn’t think straight, her tongue out of her mouth as she panted.

"Look at you being such a dirty slut, I bet your fans have no idea how much of a cum dump you are huh?" He leaned down and growled into her ear, his thrusts growing more erratic as he reached his climax. With one final push, he filled her womb with his hot seed, moaning her name. "Fuck!”

She cried out, a third orgasm ripping through her, “Aah!”

He pulled out of her, his cock glistening with her juices. "You're such a mess." he smirked and watched her fall to the ground

She panted, steadying herself on the floor. The pleasure was just too much for her.

“Go back to your fans and tell them what a good time you had with your bodyguard." he said, smirking down at her. He couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction. "And don't forget to thank me for the ride."

“Shut up…”

"Tsk, tsk.” he chided, stepping over her and reaching for his clothes. "You're such a spoiled brat even when you're being used like this."

She blinked her tears back and shot him a pained look, showing him that she’s no longer playing the game they were playing. She felt vulnerable and all she wanted right now was to be held and cared for.

His gaze softened, maybe he had pushed it too far. Zoro crouched down to pick her up bridal style and carried her to what he assumed was the shower. “Are you okay?”

She nodded weakly and felt the warm water wash away signs of their previous activity along with her tears. He leaned down to grab the shower gel and lathered it on her body. Her heart fluttered at his gentle touch and surprisingly caring nature, “Thank you…”

"Just doing my duty." he replied, his voice still rough around the edges.

He cleaned her with gentle motions, his hands lingering a little too long in some places. He noticed she didn't object, so he continued, his mind wandering, lost in thought. She grabbed the shower gel and did the same for him, lathering and cleansing all over his body. There was an unspoken feeling growing between them, which both of them had noticed.

“Hmm?" he asked, breaking out of his trance. Eye flickering to hers, smiling softly at her. There was something there, something more than just lust or anger. He couldn't quite place it, but he liked it.

She smiled softly up at him, letting the warm water hit their skin, “I didn’t say anything.”

“I know." he said, leaning against the tiled wall. "But there's something about you that I can't seem to resist. Even after knowing how much of a brat you are." He reached out, running his hand through her hair, pulling her closer.

She continued smiling at him, “What? Don’t tell me my bodyguard has fallen for me?”

Zoro couldn't help the full blown smile that spread across his face. "Maybe just a little bit." He reached around her, slipping his arm around her waist, holding her close.

"But I'm not just your bodyguard, am I?"

“Are you not?”

His heart skipped a beat at her question. "No, I'm not." He leaned in closer, their bodies pressed against each other.

Her heart rate picked up as she stared lovingly into his eye, “Is that so?”

He could feel the desire coursing through him, making it difficult to think of anything else but her. "I think you can feel it too." he whispered, his lips brushing against hers lightly.

She pressed a gentle kiss against his lips, “I can.”

The warmth of her lips against his sent shivers down his spine as he deepened the kiss. The kiss was different this time, it was gentle and sweet – it felt comforting and soft.

She pulled away and hugged him close, “I want you by my side…more than just a bodyguard.”

“I already am, Miss.”

phew! hope you guys liked this and as always, please let me know your thoughts / if you have and fic requests! (also I'm working on part 2 for my previous fic so keep an eye out for that <3)

#roronoa zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro imagine #zoro smut #zoro x y/n #one piece smut #zoro x reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro #op smut #one piece x you #op x reader #zoro x you #zoro fanfic

486 notes · View notes

bunnylovesani · 6 months

Text

Daddy Issues

(This is what I imagine him looking like in this fic)

Content warnings: MDNI, reader has daddy issues, 20 year age gap, Anakin is your best friend’s dad, drinking, fingering, dirty talk, general smut with a bit of fluff

WC: 2.6k

You and Leia met in your first year of college and your friendship quickly blossomed. Despite being from the same town, you’d never bumped into each other. If you had, you’re sure you would’ve remembered him. The first time you’d met him was Christmas, 4 years ago; it was your first time coming round to the Skywalker residence and all you knew was that Leia was raised by a single dad, who was now in his 40s. The moment you laid eyes on him, you were fascinated. He had dark blonde hair which curled into golden ringlets at the ends and a mysterious quality about him you were sure made the women weak at the knees- how he’d managed to stay single for most of his life was beyond you.

Despite your fervent initial attraction to him, you tried your best to put all of it aside. Besides the obvious reasons to restrain yourself, he was also the first positive male figure you’d had in your life. He was a damn good father; always present in Leia’s life and, since you two were joined at the hip, by extension yours too. You ignored every sign, every impulse, every sizzling moment of tension that came between you two- tension you naturally assumed was one sided- he’s a decent, respectable man after all.

You had it all under control- until you received a call confirming the graduate program you’d applied for months ago had been accepted. The subsequent week was spent getting daydrunk while hesitantly packing your entire life into a van full of brown boxes- or rather, directing Leia to do it for you since you were too inebriated. It all boiled down to your final night; one last night in the suburbs you’d felt suffocated by your entire life before you moved to the big city to start your shiny new life.

So why did you feel sad? You suspected you knew the reason but spent the better half of an evening denying it and battling the growing urge to pay him a visit. Eventually, when the reality that you were about to leave him forever sunk in, you found your feet taking you out the door of their own volition. Preparing to ambush him with the help of some liquid courage you’d choked down prior to leaving, you rung the doorbell of his house for what you thought may be the last time.

“Oh, hey honey. Leia just left to spend the night at her boyfriend’s house, you just missed her. I thought you’d already said your goodbyes?”. He innocently questions as he opens the door and lets you in.

“I know, it’s you I came to say goodbye to.” You say anxiously, staring at him intensely through your lashes.

“I see, I’m honoured.” He smiles and approaches you, pulling you into a hug. “Good luck with everything sweetheart, stay safe and above all- remember to have fun! Life passes you by in an instant and one day you’ll wake up as old as I am and kick yourself for not grabbing every opportunity you had.”

“Funny you say that, Sir. That’s the exact mantra I’ve adopted recently. Fuck it, right?” You help yourself to the glass of whiskey he was holding out of his hand and take a sip.

“Can I sit with you for a little while?” You plop onto his cushioned couch before he can reply.

“Erm, yeah of course, make yourself at home.” He says welcomingly, though with a perplexed expression on his slightly wrinkled face. “Are you okay?” He wonders if there’s a reason you’re acting so strange. You don’t usually drink.

“I’m great, thank you Sir.” You bat your lashes. “Just feeling sentimental with the circumstances and all.”

“How many times have I said, call me Anakin. I know I’m old but after so many years I’d say we’re on a first name basis.” He chuckles, taking a seat beside you on the sofa, keeping a respectable distance. “I know I’m nothing much to you but I really do think of you and Leia as my girls. I’m so proud of everything you’ve accomplished.” He says endearingly, smiling at you kindly.

That’s when you’re reminded of the reason you came here tonight. You had every intention of telling him how you truly felt, how you’d had a raging crush on him from the moment you met him- and now that you might never see him again, you saw no reason why you shouldn’t act on those feelings.

But hearing him compare you to his daughter filled a hole you felt inside you ever since your father abandoned you- while simultaneously making you feel sick to your stomach.

You stared into his warm eyes, encased with crows feet and accompanied by two prominent creases on his forehead. You shouldn’t find a man of his age so attractive but you do.

“You know, I don’t think you’re old.” You state simply.

“What?” He asks somewhat confused by your meaning.

“You said one day I’ll wake up as old as you. I don’t think you’re old at all. If anything, you’re in your prime.” You look away. “You’re not nothing to me either.”

He looks visibly stunned, though he tries to mask it by refilling a glass of whiskey, the brown liquid almost spilling everywhere.

“Right back at you, kid. Well I’m sure you’ve got a lot of packing to do so I won’t keep you. You need a ride?” He shuffles in his seat.

“No. Not the kind of ride you’re thinking of anyway.” A wave of boldness overcomes you and you feel the alcohol burning through your veins as you shuffle closer to him.

“Uh, I think that whiskey’s gone straight to your head. Why don’t I get you some water?” He’s about to get up but you grab him by the hand and force him to stay seated, holding onto it longer than necessary.

“You know how I feel about you Anakin. I know you know.” You stare deep into his mature blue eyes as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down with an apprehensive gulp.

“Now that’s enough young lady. You absolutely should not be thinking about me in that way. I’m almost twice your age.” He sternly warns you and you can’t help but wince. The way he’s scolding you is triggering some deep rooted daddy issues. You knew you always had them to some extent but you never knew just how bad they were until you met Anakin.

“I dont mean to make you uncomfortable, I just couldn’t hold it back anymore. I’ll leave right now if you want me to, you’ll never see me again. Just tell me you don’t feel anything towards me and I’ll be on my way.” You’re huddled over him with your legs on the sofa, hand slowly inching its way towards his thigh.

A flash of conflicting emotions run through his eyes- he’s obviously embarrassed, perhaps shocked - though you find it hard to believe he had no clue at all- but there’s something else. He’s debating with himself, you can see the cogs whirring in his mind.

“I can’t say that.” He meets your gaze. “I care about you a lot, you know that. Which is why you need to leave. You’re not in the right state of mind.” He gets up again but you pull him down and climb onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I have been in love with you for 4 years, Anakin. You are my every waking thought. I know it’s wrong and you’d never be with me but I can’t control myself. If I can’t have you forever, let me have just this one night- please.” You wait for him to object to the way you’re sitting on him but to your surprise, he doesn’t.

“Alright, honey.” He grumbles softly after a little while, looking at you with a subdued expression that conveyed both concern and understanding. “Alright, if that’s what you want, I’ll give you what you want. I’m yours for the night.”

You sit there, stunned. You were fully expecting him to kick you out of the house and tell Leia everything. You were expecting anything other than him giving in. Is he just taking pity on you and thinks this will help you get over your daddy issues? He knows you have them. Or is he as sick and twisted as you are?

“Can…can I…” You lean in, pressing your fingertips against his lips.

“Leave it all to me sweetheart. Daddy will make it all better.” He wastes no time taking your hands into his own and kissing your fingertips softly, before pressing his lips against yours.

You’re too stunned to react so you allow him to kiss your motionless lips, your eyes still wide open in disbelief. You’d never been so grateful to someone for taking the lead.

“Close those pretty eyes for me baby, you’re safe now.” He kisses your eyelids softly and his gentle caresses awaken a deep urge within you.

You grab at his collared shirt, loosening his tie and unbuttoning it. “Been working more late nights at the office?” You mumble into his lips as you push the crisp white shirt off his shoulders, leaving his muscles exposed.

“That’s because I have two women in my life who bleed me dry.” He chuckles and you smile at the memory; he’s shelled out for you on more than one occasion- from plane tickets and birthday gifts to a new MacBook for college because your one broke and you couldn’t afford another since you’d been fired from your waitressing job- he even agreed that that guy deserved to get a drink thrown in his face for grabbing you. He said that if he were there, he would’ve done worse.

Before you freefall into a psychoanalytical hole, Anakin rips your skirt off - it’s as if he can hear your mind working overtime. You gasp a little as he kneads the fat of your ass cheeks roughly, guiding you until you’re grinding against him. You can feel him getting hard, and oh did it feel big. You’d stolen subtle glances at his crotch on numerous occasions, contemplating what it might look like, what colour the tip might be, what it might taste like. You couldn’t bare to be left in the dark any longer so you reached for his belt and impatiently started undoing it- but you were stopped by his large hands cupping yours.

“Not just yet princess. I wanna take my time with you.” He whispered coarsely and the feeling of his warm breath on your neck sent shivers down your spine. Before you knew it, he had spun you around so that you were sitting on his lap with your back facing his front. He traced his tongue in big open kisses along your neck while his hands trailed up and down your thighs, before he hooked his fingers around your panties.

“Lets get these off shall we?” He purred and his words sent sparks straight down to your core. He lowered your underwear only down to your knees, before spreading your legs a little, his hand placed under one of your thighs to keep it up. You felt the cold air hit you and knew instantly that you were soaked.

You breathing was reduced to short little pants as his fingers reached the inner folds of your pussy, and it felt like every caress touched your soul. You started squirming about in his lap as two of his fingers slid into you.

“Goddamn… oh baby, I didnt even mean for that to happen but you’re just so wet they slipped right in.” You mewled at his lustful words as he curled his fingers inside you, rubbing your clit with the base of his thumb.

“Oh Ani…ah fuck!.” You cried. “Anakin!”

“Yes sweetheart, what is it?” Gaining speed, he grabbed your cheeks with his free hand and turned your head to force you to look at him but you were too stimulated to respond.

“Do you hear how wet you are? And here I thought you were a good girl.” He maintains eye contact and your cheeks flush at the lewd sounds coming from your core. You take a glance and see his hand is glistening with your arousal, wetness squelching as it pours down to the Rolex on his wrist.

“Aah…I, I’m sorry daddy! Mm can’t help it” You manage to squeal out, embarassed by how wet and helpless he made you.

“Don’t you dare apologise sweetheart. Daddy loves how wet this pussy gets. Is this all for me?”

“Yes, yes Sir it’s all for you- mm all yours!” You moan as you feel your climax fast approaching. “Please can I cum? Pleasee daddy!”

“Yes princess, cum for me.” He pumps his fingers in and out of you at such a tempo you have to hold onto his arms for stability.

As if someone opened a dam, your orgasm washes over you and you let out a stupified scream- you wanted to say his name but your brain is so scrambled all you can manage is a mumbled moan of incoherent syllables.

“Such a good girl baby, well done honey.” He plants kisses all over your cheek and neck as your heart rate climbs down.

As you come down from your high, the realisation of what you’re doing dawns on you. As if he could read your mind, he takes your face into his hands.

“What’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours? If you think you’ll regret it, tell me now. I don’t think I could handle it if we made love and you woke up regretting it.” He speaks softly, as if being too harsh might scare you away.

“No, no it’s not you.” You quickly respond. “I just feel a little cheap. I don’t ever have one night stands so I’m kinda out of my depth here… and the guilty thoughts about Leia creeping up on me don’t help either.”

“Hey, you’re not cheap.” You scoff at his attempt to reassure you. “Stop that, I mean it. I have nothing but the utmost respect for you regardless of the outcome of this. But…I mean I’m out of my depth here too. If we’re being honest, I haven’t had sex in years.” Anakin admits and your jaw drops. How could a man this damn fine not get laid for that long?

“It’s a personal choice.” He corrects before you jump to any conclusions about what might be wrong with him. “I don’t like one night stands either and if I’m not in love, I have no real interest in sex.” Your heart leaps at the insinuation- if he’s willing to sleep with you, that must mean…right?

“So let’s not have a one night stand then.” He continues and your heart drops. I guess you thought wrong.

“Let’s keep seeing each other. I ache all over at the thought of this being the last time I see you. I need you in my life. I don’t care if it’s wrong, I don’t care what people say. Leia will come round to the idea eventually, she has to.”

“I love you.” You reply a little too quickly, staring at him with so much admiration you think your heart might burst.

“I love you too, my sweet girl.”

Part 2

#anakin x reader #hayden christensen #star wars fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfiction #star wars smut #sam monroe #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x you #hayden christensen fluff #hayden christensen x reader #life as a house

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helvegen-s · 29 days

Text

Rage, rage | six

index

Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC

Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.

Warnings: fighting, mentions of ptsd, just some fluff, enemies becoming friends and becoming lovers

Days and weeks passed, and Nimue found different ways to entertain herself and pass the time.

She had learned to appreciate Nesta's company, Feyre's older sister, with whom she spent long hours in silence, reading, sitting side by side in the library. She was a rough and direct person, but there was something that made them understand and fit together, like two sides of the same coin. Perhaps it was the fact that both had been inside the Cauldron that made Nimue understand her attitude, even though the others didn't.

She also spent long hours sitting with Rhysand. Sometimes Feyre, Morrigan, Amren, Cassian were present. Never Azriel.

They asked questions, and she answered the best she could: where the bulk of Hybern's forces were located, how many troops it had, who supported the King among Prythian's courts, what he was going to do with the Cauldron...

For many, she didn't have the answer, and she couldn't ignore that feeling of uselessness when she shrugged at their questions. She should have known all that. Her father didn't trust her in the slightest, not even to entrust her with the most absurd of information.

She had also started spending time with Amren, with whom she could spend hours and hours talking about the world, about magic, about how everything was related. They shared their own perspectives on the world, as Nimue found in the small female an equal: two ancient and powerful minds trapped in bodies that were too small for them.

However, the knowledge that Amren transmitted to her about Prythian's history was incredibly vast. Yes, Nimue had knowledge of the things the Cauldron had transmitted to her, but she still had so much to learn that she couldn't help but tremble with excitement.

On the other hand, Nimue also felt drawn to the fragile Elain. Like with Nesta, she felt a connection with the female, due to her relationship with the Cauldron. The Cauldron itself had said it, it had given her two sisters, and Nimue felt her chest swell just thinking about it.

According to Nesta, the Elain she saw now was a mere shadow of what she had always been in reality: a sweet and bright girl, warm like the spring sun, but extinguished by the traumatic experience of the Cauldron.

However, on rare occasions, when she and Nesta sat in silence reading in the company of the quiet and lost Elain, Nimue would look up from the book to find the middle sister smiling at her, a smile that the princess gladly returned.

On the other hand, she had begun to forge a sweet and slow friendship with Feyre: they sat together to have tea (Cassian had taught her, what a wonderful beverage), and the brunette told her story, from the harsh poverty and through Tamlin and the Spring Court, to Rhysand and the Inner Circle.

Nimue couldn't help but marvel at seeing Azriel through Feyre's eyes, as she told her what she had experienced with them.

She was gaining everyone's trust little by little, building it day by day with small demonstrations. However, Azriel kept slipping away.

Sometimes she felt a flash of something on the other end of the bond: joy, anger, disappointment, surprise. She supposed it was moments when Azriel let his guard down and his emotions escaped through the invisible thread that connected them.

When she crossed paths with him in the hallways, he simply looked away and walked past. When everyone in the house gathered for dinner and they coincided next to each other, Azriel didn't open his mouth all night or engaged in conversation with whoever was on his other side.

Nimue wanted to get closer to him. She wanted to know him, to see him with the eyes with which Feyre saw him: a loyal and good male to the core, willing to sacrifice everything for his people and with incredible insight. A trained warrior with a dark past that Feyre didn't tell her much about.

So she began to get up before the Sun shone in the sky. She dressed appropriately and cheerfully made her way to the training field that Cassian had shown her. There, every morning without fail, she found the two Illyrian males training: with swords, with spears, with daggers, with fists...

Every time Cassian saw her cross the training yard's gate, he couldn't help but burst into laughter. On the other hand, Azriel rolled his eyes and was already in a bad mood for everything he had left to do that morning.

But he couldn't help but think how funny the situation was, seeing Nimue arrive there morning after morning, sit and watch them train with a sweet smile on her face, sometimes with her gaze lost following some birds flying around her.

Azriel wanted to be angry. He wanted not to trust her, he wanted to see her as an enemy, he wanted to convince himself that she wasn't clean.

But it was so, so difficult for him.

It was so difficult for him to convince himself that she was a spy for her father. Especially when he caught her alone in the hallways of the house, asking out loud for any kind of sweet or cake and eating it as if it were the first in her life. Especially when he saw her reading silently in the library, next to Nesta and with a smile on her face for whatever she was reading.

Especially, when at dinners he caught her staring at him, with furrowed brows. Azriel pretended not to notice. But he always saw her on the other side of the table, oblivious to all the conversations around her, gripping the knife and fork and staring at him, with that expression of incomprehension that reminded him so much of a sulky child.

He wanted to maintain that facade and not give in. But it was so difficult for him to ignore that feeling, that pressure in his chest every time he saw her, every time he perceived her scent of sea salt and belladonna poison in the house's rooms.

Especially at night when he got into bed, he found it hard to ignore the emotions that slipped through the bond: half asleep and with his guard down, Nimue let out such waves of loneliness and melancholy from her end of the bond that sometimes Azriel felt like he was going to cry himself.

So, one morning, amidst the thick morning fog and the singing of the newly awakened birds, he headed towards Nimue on the training field, under Cassian's surprised gaze.

"Why don't you show us how you fight in Hybern?" he said. Nimue stood up like a spring, her face tinged with excitement. Azriel had to take several deep breaths to assimilate the amount of joy that went straight to his chest. He cleared his throat, "Just to know what to expect in case of a battle."

"Of course."

Nimue walked up to Cassian, who volunteered to fight against the princess first.

"No magic, just hand-to-hand combat. I must also add that I don't usually fight against women, but it doesn't mean I'm going to–"

Cassian hadn't finished speaking when Nimue gave him a series of blows so fast that not even Azriel could register: first stomach, then knees, neck, and finally a finishing blow that left the Illyrian lying face down on the ground and groaning.

Azriel let out a laugh almost without thinking, and when he felt Nimue's gaze on him, he did everything to hide it.

"For the Mother," Cassian coughed, getting up as best he could from the ground. "Warn before."

"If I warned you, it would lose all the fun," she said, smiling. She turned to the Shadowsinger and pointed at him with her finger, "Now you, pretty face."

Azriel felt a chill run from his heels to his crown, and swallowed to prevent his thoughts from wandering further.

Around his shoulders and wings, his shadows fluttered as they laughed softly.

How funny she is.

Yes, very funny.

And pretty.

Yes, we want to touch her and smell her. She smells really good.

Azriel clicked his tongue and shook his head, heading towards the princess. He positioned himself at a safe distance to avoid a surprise attack like the one she had used with Cassian, and in a defensive stance, he couldn't help but give her a wicked smile.

"You'll see what this pretty face is capable of."

At a speed only a fully trained soldier could move, Nimue traced a parabola towards Azriel, approaching from his left side and crouching to avoid any counterattack. He prepared to receive the blow, contracting the muscles of his abdomen.

But the blow never came.

Nimue fell to her knees, fists raised just an inch from Azriel's body.

"I can't," she whispered. She dropped her arms to her sides and stood up, face to face with Azriel. "I'm physically unable to harm you. I can't."

Azriel frowned, internalizing every feature of the female: the arch of her eyebrows, the angle of her eyes, the light of the first rays of the sun reflected in her iris, that slight tremor on the left side of her lip that he had noticed occurred when she was tense...

He never had the pleasure to be this close to her, the only times such a thing happened he was so blinded by rage that he couldn't appreciate such a raw beauty.

He snapped out of his reverie and entered back into that mental state of combat.

Taking advantage of Nimue's distraction, he prepared to aim a direct punch at her jaw.

But just an inch away, his body stopped completely, as dictated by a greater force.

Stop.

His hand immediately unclenched, and under his own gaze, he saw how his body acted alone and by instinct: as if drawn by a magnet, his own hand rested on Nimue's cheek, who buried her face further in that sudden contact.

They held each other's gaze, unable to act upon that pure and raw instinct. Azriel's hand on Nimue's face, his thumb tempting fate on the corner of the princess's lip.

Even through the leather glove, he could feel the warmth emanating from Nimue, like that of a bonfire on a cold winter night.

The princess raised her right hand, gripping the Shadowsinger's forearm and ensuring he didn't stop touching her.

She didn't want him to ever stop.

No one had ever touched her like that, with pure warmth. She felt like she was burning wherever the male touched her.

She didn't want Azriel to ever stop touching her.

But Azriel snapped out of his reverie, again, and as fast as lightning, he moved away from the female, breaking all physical contact.

At his side, the hand that had felt the sweet touch of her skin kept clenching, as if asking for more.

Such soft skin.

Let's touch it again.

He had gone too far, letting himself be carried away by the raw instinct that bond imposed on him.

Yes, it had to be that.

He definitely didn't want to get lost again in the gray eyes of that female, clear as the light of the brightest star in the sky.

Definitely not.

Feeling the heat rise to his face, he hurried to leave the training field before his own shadows came up with the Mother knows what, leaving behind a confused Nimue.

What had just happened?

What had all that been about, why had it felt so natural, so good?

Cassian had watched the whole scene, apart, with his mouth shut and thinking about who he would run to tell first: Feyre or Morrigan.

Maybe both at the same time.

Taglist:

@lilah-asteria @agentsofsheilds @leptitlu @just-here-reading @glitterypirateduck @saltedcoffeescotch @krowiathemythologynerd @donttellthecats @annblvd @annamariereads16 @crazylokonugget @smoooothoperator

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #azriel #azriel imagine #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #cassian #rhysand #azriel x female!reader

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gravitywonagain · 5 months

Text

Inquiring Minds

holy shit, i finished a thing. well, a draft of a thing, but still counts!

based on this post about wwx being just dead enough be susceptible to the compulsion of inquiry

It was, in retrospect, the stupidest possible way to be found out. Wei Wuxian will readily admit that. Unfortunately, the level of stupidity was not a determining factor for the level of reality — as was the case for so much of Wei Wuxian’s life.

It all happened because one of the two dozen Jin disciples who bothered to show up to the war got a little drunk and a lot prideful and ended up starting a fight he couldn’t finish. Or, that was the going theory, anyway. The Jin leadership — such as it was — wanted an investigation done. As if they had nothing better to do. As if there weren’t reasons to be conserving spiritual power and not wasting it playing Inquiry for a guy who had decided to pick a fight — hopefully, hopefully it was a fight — with a Nie disciple who, granted, did not have the startling musculature of some of her shixiongs, but was still a fucking Nie disciple!

This guy was not worth their time. This guy was not worth Lan Zhan’s time. Or his attention, or his spiritual power, or the stress it would put on his guqin strings— okay, maybe Wei Wuxian should have taken a moment to purge some of his resentment before walking into the tent.

But he didn’t. This is important.

Because then Lan Zhan began to play.

And there was this strange… tugging sensation in the pit of Wei Wuxian’s gut, right where his golden core was supposed to be, pulling him toward Lan Zhan, or toward the empty space in front of Lan Zhan.

Wei Wuxian shouldn’t have ignored it. He gets that now. He does. But he always wanted to be near Lan Zhan, and his body had been doing all kinds of weird shit since he’d had his core cut out, and who was to say this wasn’t just another weird side effect.

Well. It was. A weird side effect. After a fashion.

But that’s not the point!

He should have noticed then. He should have left then. But he didn’t.

The melody changed and the tugging sensation stopped. Which was great!

Until something else started. It felt like a kind of drunkenness, light and hazy in his head, loose around his tongue. Three or four bowls in.

He shook himself to dislodge it, but the motion only drew a sharp glare from Jiang Cheng.

The tent was full of spectators. At least two representatives from each major clan were present, plus several “close friends” of the victim -- like four of the fifteen total Jin disciples -- who probably just wanted something else to do outside of eat, sleep, and fight. Wei Wuxian couldn’t blame them, exactly, war was remarkably boring most of the time, but it was getting awfully stuffy in there.

Lan Zhan changed the melody again, something almost lexical about it. Wei Wuxian could almost hear the question being asked, even before Zewu Jun’s voice chimed in, translating for anyone who didn’t know the qin language — which was pretty much everyone else in the tent besides the Twin Jades — “What is your name?”

Wei Wuxian caught his own response between his lips, pressing them together tightly, as the guqin sounded three distinct notes which Zewu Jun reported as Jin Zixin.

So, good. It was the right guy. That was great. Nothing weird at all.

He should have left then. He didn’t.

Lan Zhan played again, and again Wei Wuxian thought he understood the phrase, the question, even before Zewu Jun said for the tent, “How did you die?”

Wei Wuxian felt the answer fly to the tip of his tongue and bit his teeth around it, through it. His cheek bled with the force of keeping quiet.

It was weird. So weird. But maybe, Wei Wuxian justified to himself, maybe it was just an effect of holding a secret inside for so long and having someone actually ask the question out loud. Maybe, it was just the same automatic reaction of answering with your name when someone asked for it. Maybe he was just too fucking tired, and the resentment under his skin just wanted something to laugh at, something to entertain itself with. Like the five of ten Jins standing in the back of the tent. War was boring, okay?

The notes from Lan Zhan’s guqin hung in the air, resonant and waiting. The moment seemed to stretch out too long. It dragged and Wei Wuxian gradually felt the words stop fighting him to escape.

But the Jin ghost didn’t answer either.

When Lan Zhan played the same phrase over — “How did you die?” echoed on Zewu Jun’s tongue — the compulsion was much stronger. This time it was like Wei Wuxian could feel Lan Zhan’s spiritual power pouring through him; the strongest of wines, several jars of it.

He couldn’t fight it.

His mouth opened.

I fell. I fell. I fell.

“I fell.”

All eyes in the tent turned to him.

Jiang Cheng’s elbow caught him in the ribs. He didn’t even bother to glare. He said, “Not you, Idiot.”

The qin sounded and everybody looked back to Lan Zhan and Zewu Jun, waiting to hear the Jin disciple’s answer.

Zewu Jun hesitated for the barest of moments, stuttering into the start of his translation before finding the confidence of his voice once more, recounting whatever it was that the ghost had strummed out.

Wei Wuxian didn’t hear a word he said. He was, instead, pierced on two sides.

On one: Jiang Cheng muttered to himself, “Wait,” and then his eyes went wide as he looked back at Wei Wuxian.

On the other: Lan Zhan’s fingers froze above the strings of his guqin and he turned to stare over his shoulder at Wei Wuxian with something like horrified understanding dawning within his gaze.

Wei Wuxian finally realized he should fucking leave. Immediately.

He wanted to run. He knew better. Knew what that would look like.

Instead, he was going to simply walk out of this tent as he had walked out of so many already during this campaign. Gravel crunched under his heel as he turned.

But his brother knew him too well. Jiang Cheng’s hand clamped tight around Wei Wuxian’s bicep, his grip unyielding. With his golden core, Wei Wuxian might have been able to break it. But the real bitch of it was that it was his golden core that was holding him in place.

Jiang Cheng tensed as if readying for a fight, but Wei Wuxian already knew how that fight would end. So he let himself be restrained.

He turned back to face the Inquiry.

Lan Zhan was still staring at him when Zewu Jun finished speaking. He was still so stuck in place that his brother had to prompt him into finishing the ritual. Which he did, with all the grace and skill expected of him. He really was just so beautiful to watch.

All the while, Wei Wuxian listened to the music and bit through his tongue to keep it silent. The questions continued to drag at him -- “Do you know who killed you?” Wen Chao. “Do you have any last requests?” To leave this fucking tent. -- though the pressure to answer eased significantly as the Jin ghost became less stubborn about it. Wei Wuxian settled for reciting the answers to them in his head until they no longer felt pressed against the thin seam of his mouth.

It took approximately sixteen-hundred years.

All seven Jin disciples supporting the war effort left the tent after the ghost had recounted his final moments. The attempted sexual assault was not unexpected, judging by their faces, but still disappointing to hear about. Clearly not the entertainment they were hoping for. Luckily for Wei Wuxian, they were apparently too wrapped up in their Jin nonsense to realize new entertainment was fidgeting in the corner and trying not to sever the tip of his tongue completely.

The Nie, represented by Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang, left shortly after the ritual concluded. If Nie Mingjue had to tug his brother away, Wei Wuxian was too busy keeping his mouth shut to comment on it.

And then there were just the four of them. Plus the corpse. But they were like six months into a war, so the corpse didn’t actually seem to bother any of them. It hadn’t even started to smell yet. It was still pretty intact, too, and now that it was verifiably a criminal, Wei Wuxian wondered idly if the Jin would let him use it in their next battle. Probably not.

His idle wondering ceased abruptly as his brother’s fingers bit deeper into the meat of his arm.

“Wei Wuxian,” he said, all of his surely filial worry for his gege boiling over into a spitting, incandescent fury. He never had to say he loved his brother, Wei Wuxian could always tell. It was the teeth gnashing that gave him away. “What the fuck do you mean you fell?”

Right.

Wei Wuxian played it as cool as he could with a definitely-not-bleeding tongue. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jiang Cheng.” He shrugged, but his arm didn’t move very far.

“You answered Inquiry,” said Lan Zhan. Succinct as ever.

“No!” Wei Wuxian said, maybe a little too loud, but not at all childishly.

Zewu Jun narrowed his eyes and pulled out his xiao. Wei Wuxian tried not to flinch about it, he did. But Zewu Jun only played a short, non-Inquiry melody, and a shimmering, blue barrier manifested around the interior of the tent.

“No,” Wei Wuxian said again, this time at a totally normal volume. “I was just… messing around. You know how I do that, Lan Zhan. Always a rule breaker.” He grinned, desperately trying to play it all off. Realizing faster and faster how very badly this was going for him.

Lan Zhan surprised him, then, saying, “Not when it matters.”

“What?”

“Wei Ying doesn’t break rules when they matter.”

Wei Wuxian didn’t know where the fuck that was coming from. But he couldn’t say he hated it.

Except that he did, because it was going to be a problem for this whole I’m just a silly rascal defense he was setting up.

Jiang Cheng still hadn’t let go of his arm. His fingernails were starting to split the fabric of his sleeve. And worse, his eyebrows were scrunched together in the way they do when he’s thinking through all the angles of a problem.

Zewu Jun still had his xiao in hand, and he was looking at Wei Wuxian like he was deciding whether to perform an exorcism or an execution.

But Lan Zhan… Lan Zhan hadn’t moved from his seat on the mat. He had turned his body so that he was facing Wei Wuxian, giving him his full attention, and was looking up at him with… pain in his eyes. Shining, wet pain.

“You died?” he asked. “Are you dead?”

“I don’t…” Wei Wuxian trailed off. He couldn’t find the words.

He didn’t know. Which was, possibly, not the best sign.

“I can’t be dead,” he said, looking over at Zewu Jun, Jiang Cheng, then back to Lan Zhan. “Can I?”

Zewu Jun, still wary, said, “You responded to the compulsion in Inquiry. Inquiry is a song that speaks to and compels answers from the dead. It does not generally work on the living.”

“Well--” Wei Wuxian started, defensive and scared. But again, he didn’t really know where to go with that.

“Where were you, Wei Wuxian?” Jiang Cheng asked him. “Why didn’t you meet me at the bottom of the hill?”

Lan Zhan and Zewu Jun shared a look. They didn’t seem to know what Jiang Cheng was talking about. But Wei Wuxian really, really, didn’t want to get into that whole mess. If anyone was going to see right through him and his flimsy tale about suddenly remembering the location of Baoshan Sanren’s mountain, it would be Lan Zhan. Actually, Zewu Jun would probably figure it out, too. And then maybe even Jiang Cheng. Now that he wasn’t all broken and desperate and gullible.

Fuck. With the way Jiang Cheng was looking at Wei Wuxian, the way his hand released some of the pressure around his arm, he might already have.

Wei Wuxian laughed, hoping it came off more smoothly than it felt in his chest. “Ah, Jiang Cheng.” He brought his own hand up to lay over his brother’s. “What if I told you--”

“No,” Jiang Cheng cut him off. “No more bullshit. Where were you?”

The mirth, false as it was, drained out of Wei Wuxian as he saw the pain building behind his brother’s eyes.

There was movement in his periphery and then Lan Zhan was standing on his other side. His fingers wrapped around Wei Wuxian’s other arm with a much gentler grip than Jiang Cheng’s. Something imploring about the touch. Like he was seeking confirmation to a theory, or maybe proving to himself that Wei Wuxian was actually there.

“I…” Wei Wuxian trailed off.

Zewu Jun’s gaze was hard as steel, but aimed, it seemed, at Lan Zhan’s hand, rather than at Wei Wuxian in general.

“There was a rumor,” he said in slow, even words, “that Wen Chao had thrown you into the Burial Mounds.” He waited a moment after he finished speaking, as if trying to reconcile the words himself, before he looked up to meet Wei Wuxian’s eyes.

Of course, Wei Wuxian didn’t want to meet Zewu Jun’s eyes. He didn’t want to meet any of their eyes. He wanted very much to be out of this tent and away from knowing gazes altogether.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t quite figured out how to teleport using resentful energy yet. So in the tent he remained.

He looked down at his feet. His boots were crusted with dirt and blood and other bodily fluids. War really was super gross, in addition to being largely boring.

“That’s ridiculous,” he said, still looking down. “Everyone knows that nothing leaves the Burial Mounds.”

Lan Zhan’s hand tightened around Wei Wuxian’s arm. Jiang Cheng’s loosened, but didn’t let go.

“Yeah,” said Jiang Cheng, like an accusation, “it would be impossible.”

Wei Wuxian still didn’t look up from his feet which meant that he missed whatever silent conversation happened between Jiang Cheng and Lan Zhan that had both of them tightening their grips on his arms just before fingers were pressed to the pulse points of his wrists. He struggled, flailing as much as he could, but against Lan Zhan’s golden core and his own, he stood no chance. He could barely budge them.

He screamed but the sound only reverberated inside the tent.

The only thing he could think to do was to call up the dead. The dead man still lying in front of them. The Jin. Rapist. Criminal. He could use that wicked corpse to fight off the people holding him down, taking his secrets. Smoke curled out of his sleeves and he--

He stopped himself.

It was over anyway.

Even if they couldn’t read his spiritual energy, or lack thereof, his fighting them was confirmation enough.

He went limp in their grasp. His knees buckled.

It really was the stupidest possible way to be found out.

“Where is it?” asked Jiang Cheng. But it was clear from his voice that he already knew the answer.

Lan Zhan was silent.

Zewu Jun looked to his brother for an answer, not understanding what they had just discovered.

“His golden core,” said Lan Zhan. “It’s gone.”

“Wen Zhuliu?” Zewu Jun asked.

But Jiang Cheng made a sound that was somehow both a laugh and a sob.

Wei Wuxian regained control of his arms. He sprawled himself out on the tent floor, exhausted from his struggle. He laughed, too. “After a fashion.”

Jiang Cheng fell to the ground next to him, hands cradling the place where Wei Wuxian’s core now spun. “What the fuck?” he said, quietly, to no one in particular. Then, loudly, to Wei Wuxian in particular, “What the fuck!”

His cheeks were wet. Jiang Cheng’s, his own. He looked over to confirm, and yeah, Lan Zhan’s too. Zewu Jun had nothing to cry over, except maybe confusion, but he was too cool for that, so he just stood in the middle of the tent, shocked, presumably, as his brother, another sect leader, and a demonic cultivator broke down around him.

Wei Wuxian stared up at the tented canvas ceiling and cursed himself for not leaving the tent when he first noticed something wrong.

“Jiang Cheng,” he started, but Jiang Cheng cut him off with a wet yell.

“Why would you do that, you fucking idiot?! What the fuck were you even thinking?! How did you-- How--”

He seemed to lose steam trying to figure out what happened on “Baoshen Sanren’s mountain” and potentially also why Baoshen Sanren’s voice sounded so familiar.

Zewu Jun’s voice was remarkably calm for a man witnessing-- whatever he made of what he was currently witnessing. He said, “Wei Wuxian, I believe your Sect Leader would like to know how you lost your golden core.”

Wei Wuxian laughed at that. Because yes and no.

“No, Zewu Jun,” he said, still laughing. He tried to stop, but it was just too funny. “No,” he said again, slightly more sober, “he wants to know why and how he now has my golden core.”

He didn’t really mean to say it. He felt drunk again, like he did when Lan Zhan was playing Inquiry. Ready to spill all his secrets at only the slightest provocation. Zewu Jun could probably ask him just about anything right now -- Lan Zhan and Jiang Cheng too, for that matter -- and he would answer it. It wasn’t exactly a safe mindset to be in. But he couldn’t really do anything about that now.

At least there was some kind of privacy barrier over the tent.

Zewu Jun stood. Speechless.

Lan Zhan’s tears fell silently.

Jiang Cheng glared, hands clutched tight against his lower dantian -- whether to hold something inside or to tear it out, Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure.

Wei Wuxian felt light as a feather. Drunk and dizzy with it. A weight had been lifted, he supposed, but one he was never supposed to let go. His laughter died down to the occasional press of his lungs. Tears collected in his eyelashes until everything was blurry.

Emptiness yawned inside him, but it was gentler somehow. As if the secret itself had been clawing away at his slowly healing wounds.

“Fuck,” he said with a hiccup of a laugh. And again, quieter, “Fuck.”

He really should have left the fucking tent.

Also, wait. Was he dead?!

#wei wuxian #lan wangji #jiang cheng #lan xichen #inquiry.mp3 #mdzs #the untamed #cql #fanfiction #my writing #inquiring minds #hey look i wrote a thing!#i actually finished a draft of something!#now if only i can aim this energy toward projects that other people actually care about...........

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cillian-gets-me-wetter · 3 months

Text

right side of my neck - lip gallagher x fem!reader

warning: angst and fluff, yearning, cheating??? (just kissing) exes who always find their back to each other, allusions to sex, groping

disclaimer: i do not own any characters mentioned in this story. this is for fictional purposes only. do not copy or claim any of my work as your own.

a/n: i’ve been posting super frequently, my bad y’all. based off the song, right side of my neck by faye webster, takes place during season 3 (mandy, don’t run me over pls), comments, reblogs and constructive feedback are appreciated!! 🩷🎀

summary: you and lip gallagher had a tumultuous history. while you were ian’s best friend, a relationship (if you can consider it that) with the older gallagher brother was the last thing you expected. you two stop seeing each other when not long after, he starts dating mandy milkovich. after they get into a fight, he’s at your doorstep, needing a place to stay and wanting to talk things out.

here are resources for supporting palestine and gaza 🇵🇸

masterlist

italics and bold: the past

unedited: present day

“The right side of my neck still smells like you”

you were unwinding from the day, deciding to do your nightly reading in the living room. your parents were both at work so you had the house to yourself for the evening. your cat, persimmon, was curled up in your lap as you were lost in your book until a knock brought you back into reality.

you gently set persimmon to the side as you got up from the couch and walking over to the door. you opened the door carefully and to your surprise, lip gallagher was standing there. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes and sigh, “look, lip, i really don’t want to argue at this time of night.” the “relationship” you had with the older gallagher brother was questionable at best in the most recent years.

you were born on the south side, meeting ian in kindergarten and being attached at the hip since. so whenever you and ian hung out together, lip was there. you basically became one of the family as you grew up along side of them as both of your parents worked all of the time. as the three of you got older, puberty and rising teen angst became a threshold.

with high school, financial struggles and inadequate situation ships piling one on top of another, you found yourself in the arms of the older gallagher after being stood up on date and you happened to bump into him in midst of taking the l home, offering a joint and his company to help cope with the shitty night.

while you two talked about what happened as well as his past with karen as you smoked the joint he had as well as few bowls from the bong and weed you stole from one of your past hookups, he sets his hand on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. you quickly straddled his lap, giving him a passionate kiss, starting an ongoing on and off and not so secretive situation-ship.

it was supposed only an outlet of releasing stress and escaping from reality for a bit. as you two continued to hook up, your feelings inevitably became a barrier and a burden for him to carry. you decided to express how you feel and not to your surprise, he didn’t take it well, resulting in an argument and him deciding that he didn’t want to continue leading you on towards something he wasn’t capable of giving to you.

not long after you two stop seeing each other, he soon starts dating mandy milkovich, another girl that is in the same grade as you and ian. seeing them together and him having her over in your second home made your blood boil. he clearly knew how angry you were but acted unscathed, resulting in constant bickering between the two of you and ian having to be the mediator as well as the venting outlet for how you two felt towards each other.

tension between you and the new couple grew so bad that you began to stop frequently going over to the gallagher home and avoiding ian and the others altogether. the family missed your presence and having you around. lip missed you being there even though you couldn’t tell through his cold, tough exterior.

his face and heart dropped at the sudden accusation, his chest ached knowing that things between the two of you didn’t so well and that your relationship wasn’t in the best place. he looked down at his beat up old shoes and back at you, “i didn’t come here to argue. i don’t have anywhere else to go and you were the first person that came to my mind. can i come in?”

your eyes softened at the rare side you were seeing of lip. the last time you saw him being vulnerable with you was when he discovered that he wasn’t the father of karen’s son, hymie. you remembered that he was looking forward to being a father and wanting to be different than his own. the night he came back from hospital, he showed up at your window, crawling in bed with you and laying on your chest.

“the baby wasn’t mine. when he was born, he looked nothing like me.” you ran your fingers through his hair soothingly. “are you okay?” what else can you really say to someone after they find out or witness that? he shook his head. “i don’t want to talk about it anymore. i just want to lay here with you and forget for awhile.” you nod understandably and kiss the top of his head gently. “i’m here if you need anything, lip.” he took in a deep breath and exhaled, “i know. you always have been.”

you nod, moving out of the doorway and watching him enter your home, taking off his shoes and leaving his coat on the hanging rack. you shut and locked the door behind you, “you can make yourself comfortable. do you want anything to drink?” he walked over to the couch and sat where you were previously sitting. “uh, whatever you have is fine with me.”

you walk out of the living room and into the kitchen, grabbing two cans of cold coca-cola out of the fridge, internally thanking your mom for being able to afford majority of the essentials while grocery shopping. you shut the fridge door and walk back into the living room, seeing persimmon happily purring in lip’s lap while he was softly petting her orange fur. you knew that lip never grew up having pets but he took a liking to the tabby cat.

the feeling being mutual as she grew accustomed to lip’s weekly visits and sleepovers. you sat down on the other side of the couch next to him, setting the two cans on the set of coasters on the coffee table. he grabbed his can, cracking it open and taking a few sips, setting it down next to yours. he cleared his throat awkwardly, “how have you been?”

you shrug, “i’m okay. just been busy with my classes and everything.” he nodded understandably, “you haven’t came over in a while.. it seems like you’re avoiding everyone.” you ask, “are you speaking for everyone or is it just you?” he looked away nervously, “i mean like the family hasn’t seen you in a while. debs and carl ask about you all the time.”

you smiled softly, reminiscing helping out with the younger ones, whether it was keeping them entertained or helping out with homework. debbie and carl enjoyed spending time with you whenever you came over and weren’t upstairs with ian or lip. “i miss them a lot, i’m sorry i haven’t been around.. it’s just that-” he encouraged you, “you can say it..”

you let out a shaky breath, “it’s just that it’s hard seeing you with her.. so i just have been keeping my distance.” he sighs, “i know this hasn’t been easy for you and i’m sorry for that but it doesn’t mean you have to avoid everyone because of me.” you shook your head, “you don’t understand, lip..” he retorts, “what don’t i understand?”

you sit with your legs crossed on the couch next to him, “your house was a safe place for me.. it was somewhere where i felt like i had an actual family to go home to instead of being alone. when you started inviting her over, it felt like i was intruding.” he shook his head in protest, “you never intruded on anything..” you cut him off, “yeah i was.. it was so awkward and hurtful just seeing her be in the same place i was in.”

he asks, “like you would see me kiss her and she’d be there in my room wearing my clothes and you would think about how it was before?” you nod embarrassed of being this exposed to him despite him basically seeing everything physically but emotionally and internally, it was another can of worms to deal with and you didn’t want to push him away because of how you feel towards him, which was what happened anyway.

he nods again, attempting to grasp everything you feel about the current state of their downfall. he pulled out a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket as well as the lighter, sparking it and taking a long drag. he exhaled the smoke out of his mouth, handing it over to you, you holding it and taking your own drag. he said, “me and mandy got into a fight tonight and she was staying in my room so i just left the house before she did and came here.”

you exhale the smoke out of your nose and mouth, handing the cigarette back to him. you ask, “what did you guys fight about?” he looked over at you as he took another drag, “it was about you actually..” your eyes slightly widened, why were they arguing about you and what was the argument about in the first place? you laugh slightly, not knowing how to react to what he said.

you look over at him as he hands back the cigarette, “why did you guys argue about me?” he sighs, “well, ian was talking to me about how he hasn’t seen or heard from you and asked me if anything else happened between us?” you nod, “what did you say to him?” he shrugged, “i told him that you said you have feelings for me and that i didn’t handle it well and i guess debs overheard and asked if you and i dated in front of everyone at dinner so mandy was angry and she kept prying about everything that happened between us.”

you sighed, burying your face in your hands. the last thing you needed was mandy milkovich sending her minions after you, you two already didn’t get along well enough and the drama being over a guy is pitiful and demeaning to fathom. he set his hand on your back, “she’s not going to do anything to you. i’ll make sure of it.”

you uncover your face, “i’m not intimidated by her. i just don’t to be involved in any drama, especially over a guy.” you nervously rubbed your face, dreading going to school the next day, knowing her and her friends would possibly be there talking about what happened with you and lip. he asks, “do you regret doing anything with me?”

you shook your head, “no. i mean i have my regrets in life but i wouldn’t consider anything we did one of them.. i think it’s just apart of life.” he nods, “i never thought of it that way. before you ask though, i don’t regret anything we did either. i regret the way i’ve been acting lately towards you and i’m sorry for that.” you shrugged and rested your head on his shoulder, “you don’t have to apologize, i’m just glad you’re here.”

he smiled softly at you, “i’m glad you let me in.” you lifted your head up to look at him, “you’re always welcome here, lip.” he kissed your cheek and pulled you into a warm embrace, you laid your head on his chest as he wrapped his arm around you. he kissed your forehead as you laid your legs on his lap, pulling you close to him. you both sat in a comfortable silence for what felt like eternity until he eventually broke it, “do you remember that time we got drunk at the park instead of going to prom last year?”

you laughed softly, “i remembered that as if it happened yesterday..”before the junior year prom, you had been asked by jared, a popular guy in your class but he ended up ditching you for another girl that night. lip decided to sit out until you called him crying. he dropped everything and met you at a local park near his house, bringing a bottle of vodka that you both shared together. he said, “do you know what that night made me realize?”

you tilt your head in curiosity to hear what he was going to say. he continued, “it made me realize how much i love you.” your eyes widened slightly as your mouth fell agape, you felt your heart skip a beat and wanting to leap out of your chest.

“lip, i need to tell you something..” you both laid in his bed under the covers after hooking up for the second time that night. he lit a cigarette as you laid on his chest, coming down from your climaxes. he took a deep inhale as he let the smoke absorb in his lungs as he exhales, watching his chest rise and fall as you lay on top of him.

he asked, “what is it?” you sighed nervously, “i don’t think i can hold back anymore, lip…” he looked down at you as he smoked, “what are you talking about?” you looked away from him, petrified of what he was going to say or think about you. “i don’t want to just hook up with you anymore.. i want something more.” he sighed, and put out the cigarette in the ashtray next to him, rubbing his face in frustration. “are you saying what i think you’re saying?”

you nodded, “yeah.” he shook his head, “i can’t date you.. you saw how things went with karen.” you sighed, “yeah but this is different.. i genuinely have feelings for you, lip. and i wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.” he looked at you, “you don’t understand.. i’m not good at being with anybody. i’m not this version of me you created in your head. you wouldn’t like dating me..”

you shook your head, “we can take things slow.. i just want to be with you..” he said, “i can’t give you what you want.. i’m really sorry.” you nodded, getting out of bed and putting back on your clothes. he sighed, “are you really leaving?” your voice cracked tearfully, “there’s no reason we should keep doing this.. i love you and you don’t want me..” he retorted, “it’s not that i don’t want you, it’s just that i’m not a good person to be with..”

you bit back, “you want me on your terms and i can’t do it anymore. i’m just going to go home. don’t call or text me..” he got up and placed his hands on your shoulders, “just stay the night.. it’s really late and i don’t want you walking home.” you shook your head, “i just want to go home.. please.” he nodded sadly, moving his hands away from you and out of your way. you grabbed your bag off of his floor and walked out of the room, heading down the stairs as tears streamed down your face.

you stumbled over your words, “you love me?” he nodded, “i do.. and i’m sorry for not telling you sooner.” you said, “but i thought you couldn’t give me what i wanted..” he sighed, “i got scared. i thought that if we did date, it wouldn’t have ended well between us and you mean so much to me that i don’t want that to happen.” you said, “i still mean what i said back then. i wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, lip.” he smiled softly, “i know you wouldn’t. and i wouldn’t do anything to hurt you..”

you both stared at each other, smiling softly as he cupped your cheeks and leaned in, closing the distance. his lips pressed softly against yours, you immediately kissed him back while your hand found its place at the back of his head. your fingers ran through his shaggy dirty blonde hair as he lets out a light moan into your mouth, you pull away slowly as the kiss attempts to grow more intense. he looked at you concerned if he did something wrong, “is everything okay?”

you nodded, “everything’s fine.. i was just wondering what you’re going to do about mandy?” he sighed, “i have no idea yet. i just want to spend the rest of tonight with you. is that okay?” you nod eagerly, “of course. you might have to kiss me again though for me to fully agree.” he laughed softly, “come here then.”

he pulls you back into him, his lips touching yours fiercely as he slips his tongue in your mouth. you both moan softly as your tongues explore each other’s mouths, your hands wandering into his shirt as he takes off his jacket and throws it to the floor.

you straddle his lap, his hands grasping your hips but not breaking the kiss. the heat between you both growing more intense when his hands kneaded your ass, causing you to buck your hips into his and let out a whimper against his lips. he pulled away from you, wanting to look at you and soak in the moment.

his hands move teasingly slow up your body, making you shudder and grind your hips on his crotch. he whispered, “want to go to your room?” you bit your bottom lip, nodding eagerly. he picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as you laughed, making him smile softly at you. you leaned in and kissed him softly as he lead you both down the hallway and into your bedroom, continuing where you both left off.

you rubbed your eyes groggily as you opened them up, you place your hand on lip’s chest as he snored softly next to you. you kissed his small triangle tattoo on his chest while you admired how peaceful he looked. you trace the tattoo delicately with your fingers as you watch him sleep.

his eyes fluttered open, smiling softly when he saw you. you leaned in, giving him a peck on his lips. he pulled you back in, kissing you deeply. he whispered against your lips, “good morning, baby.” you snuggled into his chest, “good morning. how did you sleep?” he kissed your forehead, “i always sleep good with you. how did you sleep?”

you smiled softly, “i slept really good.” you left a few tender kisses down his neck as his right hand slipped under the covers, groping your right breast. you whimper when he kisses you desperately, your thumbs caressing his cheeks. he crawls on top of you as you both kiss, your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer to you. his phone rings on the nightstand as you both make out on your bed, him ignoring the call.

the ringing sound ceased when it started ringing a second time, making you detach from his lips. “who’s calling you?” he looks away from you, grabbing the phone off the wooden surface when you saw that mandy was the person calling him. he sighed annoyingly as he set it to vibrate and set it back on the bed, attempting to kiss you once more when you stop him.

you said meekly, “you should go, baby.” he asked, “do you really want me to go?” you shook your head, “i don’t want you to but it’s best if you do. you and mandy clearly have things to work out.” he nodded understandably, he knew you were right about needing to go back. he got up out of your bed as he gathers up his clothes and putting them back on.

he asked, “what does this mean for us?” you shrug as you got up out of bed, “i have no idea. all i know is that i love you but i don’t want to get in between your relationship with her more than i already have.” he threw his shirt and jacket on when he walked over to you, cupping your face in his hands. “i love you too. i’m going to come back for you when i figure this out, i promise.”

he kissed you lovingly, brushing his nose against yours. “do you mind walking me out?” you smiled, “i don’t mind at all.” you both walk out of your bedroom and down the hall into the living room. he grabbed his shoes from by the door, putting them back on. you unlock the door for him as he stands in front of you, you wrapped your arms around his neck as he buries his face, inhaling the scent of your sweet perfume on the right side of your neck.

he lifted his face from your neck, giving you a gentle kiss goodbye. your noses brush against each other once more, “text me when you get home. i love you, lip.” he pecked your lips before opening the door, letting in the cold morning breeze. “i love you, baby. i’ll see you later, okay?”

you nod as you watch him walk out the door, down the porch steps and into the street. you closed the door once he was out of sight, locking it behind you. you stand against to the door, taking in a deep breath. you wondered if it was a dream that lip gallagher actually loved you. you exhaled as you smiled to yourself knowing that it truly wasn’t a dream.

you wondered what was going to happen next with you two but all that you knew was that you were going to stick by his side and he was going to be by yours.

#lip gallagher #lip gallagher x reader #jeremy allen white #lip gallagher fanfiction #lip gallagher imagine #shameless us #shameless imagine #shameless fanfiction #izzy writes 💕

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misguidedasgardian · 6 months

Text

Blurred Lines (4)

4. Positions

MASTERLIST

Summary: You are placed in an… awkward position

Warnings: Cursing, cheating, adultery, Harwin is not a good person on this… and Jace isn’t either, a bit creepiness, alcohol consumption, inappropriate relationship, sexual innuendos, a bit choking, smut, fingering, a bit of humilliation, might miss some warnings

MINORS DNI, + 18

Wordcount: 3.2 k

Notes: Thank you anon who gave me this amazing idea!! love you, and I hope this did justice to what you had in mind! this might open the door to other stories in this AU

It’s been a chaotic week to say the least. Harwin had been staying home, but thanks to Jace, he didn’t have much to do around the house, it’s been like three days since Jace left and even though you appreciated that, to think… he had always make himself present

Harwin was trying… hard…

First to speak to you, but luckily, having a toddler required a lot of work so she was a good buffer, so when he could tell you were not going to hear him out, he started staring at you when you were in the same room… when he walked by you he would graze you, when he wanted something that was near you he made sure to touch you to move you out of the way gently…

And it was driving you mad

You didn’t want him near you…

Not only because it disgusted you, the fact that he fucked someone else, the fact that you saw him when that bitch send you videos and pictures and the nasty conversation between them, buT also… you were disgusted in yourself

You had fucked his son…

And the worst part is that at night when you were tossing and turning, you weren’t feeling guilty, you were feeling annoyed that Harwin was the “Strong” in the house and not Jacaerys

And that made you disgusted in yourself

Lucky for you, Harwin, in a way to consolidate with you, called your name softly as you were having breakfast on opposite sides of the dinner table, telling you he had an interview out of the city in the Headquarters for another company

And then you could breathe, and count the seconds left until he leaves

Will you call Jacaerys?

No, impossible

Were you wishing he had that incredible timing of his again?

Maybe

You shook your head, trying to eliminate those thoughts from your head

The furthest Jace stayed from you the better…

Specially now

But soon, Harwin’s week of having his kids came around again, and of course, Jace was coming, he wouldn’t miss it for the world

You tried to act as natural as possible, again, your daughter helped as a shield

Seeing him there, as nothing had happened, made you question your own reality, you felt yourself embarrassingly wet between your thighs as soon as you saw him, dirty memories of what you had done together came rushing back and you would be lying to yourself if you didn’t want it to happen again…

Now you had two men with longing looks in their eyes and hoping to get you alone for a second, and you wouldn’t give in, you couldn’t

Luckily, Luke and Joffrey were there too, those sweet boys were helping you too, they seemed to be happy to be back and see you, you loved them… perhaps, no as your children, but as your youngest siblings

So the third day, when Harwin was out for a work interview, Jace approached you while you were preparing lunch, you jumped on your feet as Luke was right in the living room playing in his nintendo witch with headphones on

“Relax”, he laughed

“It’s not funny Jace”, you whispered as he mocked your reaction

“I wanted to ask you something”, he whispered, his stance was relaxed, not second intended, or you didn’t think so

“Tell me”, you said

“I wanted to invite you to my birthday party, the one that my grandfather Viserys is throwing me”, he said softly. You looked at him, looking for something that tells you he was kidding, or he had a hidden intention, but those beautiful, dark green eyes told you nothing

“Jace I think it’s out of place”, you said finally

“Look, no funny business, it is a family thing, I want Aerea there, and Harwin can’t take her because he's going to that interview out of the city…”

“I’m not sure if its a good idea”

“It is my birthday, And I want you and Aerea there, I would only take her, but because it’s a weekend we won’t have nannies and I…”

“You are the birthday boy”, you said, “you shouldn’t be taking care of a toddler”

“Please go”, he said softly

“It’s going to be awkward”, you whispered

“No it won’t”

“But I’m not blood related to anyone there…”

“Well Aerea is”, he suggested

“That only makes me remember what I’ve done”, you whispered

“The only thing you have done is let yourself be loved by me”, he whispered, leaning in, but you took a step back, looking at Luke who couldn’t even be bothered

“I’ll go, if you promise me… please, nothing out of line”, you begged softly

“I promise”, he whispered

He wasn’t an idiot… he was testing the waters with his family and even though he needed to show you to them in a more… intimate… way, he had to keep his hands to himself… at least in front of everyone

He had won this small victory

The weekend came around

He was turning twenty two but that is not what most excited him

It was you

He had come early to his grandfather’s house, where he was going to spend the weekend, and so were you and the rest of his family, including his mother

He was so looking forward to it.

His grandfather’s house was the Targaryen family home, and he wouldn’t be lying if he said it was a castle, a huge castle in the middle of a national park

He heard a car pulling up so he sneaked a glance through the window, and there you were, struggling to get Aerea out of the car, with a bag hanging from your shoulder and your adorable toddler in the other

You were going to struggle even more when you are fat with his child, Jace thought with a silly smile

Of course the house was in the outskirts, so the invitation also included a room in the mansion for the weekend

Oh Gods he was going to enjoy it

You were nervous, as Area looked around moving tirelessly in your arms, there was so much to see though

This was like a medieval castle, incredible that had passed through generations and generations of Targaryens

You received a warm welcome from the family, even from Rhaenyra

“Who is this gorgeous little girl?”, she cooed at Aerea and even threw her arms at her, you felt embarrassed but she immediately received her in her arms. “She is gorgeous!”, she praised at you, “Like the daughter I never had”, she said with a sad smile

“Thank you for inviting me Rhaenyra, Jace wanted his baby sister here”, you said softly

“Please, say no more, you are family”, she said again regaining her smile, as Aerea played with her earring softly, “anything you need, ever, I mean it, you only have to ask”, she said and smiled at you, you smiled back

She and Harwin ended amicably, she was the one to end things and he accepted it with a bit of reluctance. They split everything they had, shared custody 50/50, everything was great, very evolved.

You came back to the present when Jace himself met you with open arms and those eyes that seemed to want to eat you alive, you almost cringed away…

“There you are!, I’m so happy you are here”, he said it playfully, looking at Aerea who instantly throw her arms at Jace

“Daddy!”, she called and your mouth opened in an o, you looked at Rhaenyra, who chuckled, smiling warmly

“They are so close”, you said apologetically

“Jace had been telling me what has happened lately”, you wanted the earth to swallow you, “and how he likes to be there helping you out around the house”, she almost whispered at you, only you two could hear, “its perfectly fine that Aerea looks at him like a father figure, children are… simpler than we are”, she said with a warm smile

Rhaenyra was certainly something else

They had invited you for the weekend, they showed you your rooms, Aerea was set in the nursery, yes, the house had a nursery, with Rhaenyra’s children who shared her age, and you had a room all to yourself

The nannies were taking care of the children, and dinner time, the adult dinner time, was above you sooner than you ever expected.

You felt watched the entire dinner, and not only by Jace, but you found his uncles staring at you, Aemond and Aegon, the first hiding his smirk in his goblet of wine, afterwards licking his lips teasingly, and the other didn’t even mind hiding it

You wondered why

But you felt so judged, did they know? as the wine flowed more freely, you became more paranoid, but it was impossible

If they knew then everyone knew, and your would have not been welcomed here if it was the case, Rhaenyra was a fierce woman she would have stabbed you with that knife her father Viserys was using to carve into a chicken

Luckily Rhaenyra kept you entertained and distracted, along with Daemon, their conversation was light, and seemed like a godsent

Viserys stood up, raising his cup

“I wanted to celebrate my eldest grandson, reaching this magical age of twenty two”, he said raising his cup, “for him, and for his achievements, I know there are going to be more of them”, everyone cheered, raising his cups and Jace smiled at everyone

He raised from his seat then, his own cup in his hands

“Thank you grandfather”, he said solemnly, “this means a lot to me, one thing that I’ve understood the last years, is that family is everything, and I can’t wait to have my own”, he said the last part looking at you, and you tried to hide your ashamed face in your own cup

Daemon chuckled

“You might be getting ahead of yourself”, he warned with amusement

“No when you know what you want”, Rhaenyra seemed proud of his words, and she nodded enthusiastically, you knew she had him when she was nineteen, same as Harwin, she was young herself. “I’m fortunate to have you all here, as you mean so much to me”

The next one to raise from her seat was Rhaenyra herself

“To my oldest son”, she said with her voice on a knot, “can’t believe you are already twenty two!, you are a grown man now… I’m so proud of you”, it was a heartfelt sentiment and you smiled at her, she looked down and smiled at you too

For a second, for a fraction of a second, you thought you were actually here with Jace and not for him, and the realization that you weren’t brought you a dark sentiment you hid in a sip of wine.

Gods…

His were on you, as you made conversation with Rhaenyra and Daemon, even though you were technically still in your twenties, as many of the group, you felt the need to cling to the second generation instead of the third

“I’m sorry, lovely lady, I must have forgotten your name”, Aegon, you thought he was called, demanded your attention and you got nervous all of a sudden, you were about to answer, but someone answered for you

“She is (y/n)”, said Jacaerys, quick to anger

“I’m sorry nephew, I asked her”, teased Aegon. Jacaerys was quickly exasperated, “Her name, and her reason to be here, scapes me”

“I wanted her here”, he said angrily, and now the rest of the family was strangely quiet, Daemon looked at everything with a mocking grin on this face… Viserys tried to eat his chicken, but looked at everything with a strange look on his face… and Rhaenyra and Alicent looked at everything unravel with surprised looks on their faces

“You are so forgetful brother, she is Harwin’s new little wife”, muttered Aemond, in a voice so condescending it made your skin crawl

“Right”, said Aegon, like now he remembered you, “aren’t you closer to our age than his?”

“Aegon, that’s enough”, chided Alicent again

“They say that love is ageless”, muttered Daemon

“They are separated now”, said Jace

“Well, that is better! thank you Jacaerys for bringing such a welcome addition”, kept teasing Aegon

You shouldn’t have come

Aegon was staring at you trough the rest of the dinner with a smirk on his lips, Aemond was more discrete.

You felt like they knew what you and Jace had done just by looking at your guilty face, only one look and they would know how depraved you were, pretending you did nothing, siting here by Jace’s mother.

Aemond stood up then, raising his cup

“Final tribute”, he chanted, “For Jacaerys, you are a man grown now, that knows what he wants and is not afraid to go after it”, he said, looking straight at you

“Thank you uncle”, said Jacaerys, “that was very kind”, he said trough gritted teeth

It seemed like he wanted to say something else, but he kept quiet, You looked to your right, and Rhaenyra was looking right back at you, and smiled warmly

“It’s alright”, she said, and you didn’t know why it sounded so strange to you

You looked back at Jace and he just smirked

Gods, you should have never come to this thing, Aerea wouldn’t even remember this, Jacaerys was just playing with you

Did he get off just… putting you in this position? what was he thinking? Did he wanted to humiliate you?

What did he wanted to accomplish?

You didn’t know what to feel or think.

Despite Daemon’s invitation for a late drink with Rhaenyra, you had politely declined, and your daughter was already asleep, and you were so tired and tense, you decided you were going to follow, and went back to your own room to sleep

But as soon as you were comfortable inside the sheets, the door opened slowly, you turned quickly, and even in the darkness, but the only light coming from the hallway, you could tell, it was Jace

“What are you doing?”, you asked, he closed the door behind him and sneaked into the room

“Getting my birthday present”, he teased walking towards the room

“Jace, don’t”, you wanted but he was already taken off his shirt

“Its still my birthday”, he purred, you sat on the bed, the sheets barely hiding your body dressed in your night dress

“Not here”, you begged

“Where else? everyone else is busy or asleep”, he begged, his hands, even in the dark, found your cheeks, “come on”, he leaned in and trapped your lips with his.

“Jace, why did you invited me here?”, you asked him, leaning into him, it was useless to resist him, you wanted him too

“Isn’t it obvious?”, he teased, he sneaked onto the bed with you

“Jace please”

“Its my fucking birthday and you are my present, that’s why you are here”, you only moaned when he put you on your side, he at your back

“Tell me…”

“Shut up”, he growled making you whimper, his hand encased your throat, threatening to squeeze, but he didn’t, “tonight you are my perfect little whore”, he whispered, his other hand sneaking between your thighs, “I want to unwrap my present”

“Jace I think”

“I don’t want you to think…”, and all thoughts went to shit when he fingers teased you open, even though you had closed your thighs, it was a stretch even for his thick fingers, “I want you to take my fingers, then my cock”

“Jace!”, you schreeched when his fingers found that spot inside of you

“Shut up, if you don’t want everyone in this house to know the slut you really are”, he threatened, and that only made you moan, spreading your legs to give him more access, he squeezed your neck softly, in warning

He grabbed your leg and hooked it over his, so now he had you all open for him

You were quickly wet with desire for him, the sounds of your wetness resounding all over the room.

Your climax built quickly…

The very thought of being roughly treated like that turned you on, the fact that you were in such dangerous territoy was even more hot to you in that moment, so you began bucking your hips to meet his fingers.

“Mmmm that’s it”, he could be cruel, he could take your orgasm from you, for trying to deny him, for resisting, but tonight he wasn’t feeling like that, tonight he wanted to make you cum as much times as he could, that is what his real present was.

You came undone on his fingers, drowning your moans and whines on the pillow under you, which Jace really appreciated, this was not how he intended on presenting you as his partner

“Youa re suh a good girl for me”, he whispered in your ear, “tell me, who makes you cum like this?”

“You”, you whined, as he retrieved his hand from you gently

“Say it again”, he demanded

“Only you Jace, you are the only one who makes me cum like this”, you admitted

“That’s it”, he said, pleased, his fingers came back, this time more aggressively, more teasingly, he did not want to deprive you of anything, but what he really wanted to do was to hear you beg for him.

“Jacey”, you whined, again bucking your hips so needily it mad ehim chuckle, squeezing softly your delicate neck

“Yes?”, he asked, giving you an open mouth kiss on the side of your face,

“I need you”

“What you are talking about? I’m right here”, he kept teasing

“I need your cock”, you revealed, and he couldn’t hide his chuckle

“Where?”, he kept teasing he loved hearing your voice, but he liked it even more when you were begging for him

Not like he could last any longer without fucking you, his cock had never been harder on his life

“Inside me”, tonight you were not in the mood for teasing he could see.

“Oh I see, my little slut”, he mocked, he released you, making you cry out and then he, “you need me to fuck you, uh?”, his thumb billied your clit making you whine, trying so hard not to scream his name in ecstasy.

“Yes I do”, you admitted shameslely

“Oh I will give it to you then”, he teased, releasing you, grabbing his cock, and thent easing your entrance, “Mmmm but just the tip?”, you tried to sink yourself onto him, but he had fisted his cock making it impossible, only his fat tip teasing you

“No”, you whined

“No what?”

“All of it”, you begged, wiggling your ass, “please I want all of it”

“You needy little girl”, he moaned in your ear, and from one second to the next he impaled you on his fat cock, covering your mouth so nobody could hear you

Jace never knew nothing better that being inside you

“This cock is yours”, he promised against the skin of your cheek, “I’m goona fuck you so good you know nothing but my name, and I’m going to cum inside you, fucking breed you”

“Mmm?”, you were so deep in your pleasure his words barely made sense, they just made you wetter

“Fuck yes”, he retrieved himself, only to thrust inside you again, rougher, deeper, “I’m going to breed you, get you pregnant with my child”

“Jace?”, that did sink in, but late, as he growled cumming deep inside of you.

But you payed no attention to it, it was surely a thing of the heat of the moment, nothing else, many had a breeding kink, you amongst them

“In my grandparent’s home”, he whispered, “dirty little whore”, he growled

“Happy birthday Jace”, you said only, the spell fading, as he chuckled in your neck

Oh if only you knew… they you were being watched

Reader thinks Jace only wants her to fuck :(

Taglist: @champomiel @urmomsgirlfriend1 @sweethoneyblossom1 @lukepattersin @ladylyanna91 @snowflake-latte @bruher @bellstwd @inesven @iamavailablesstuff @haydee5010 @happinessinthebeing @agqrtz @ajanauia @joliettes @lightdragonrayne @ivoryluvs @fairysluna @cumslutforaemond @possiblyafangirl

#misguidedblurred #prince jacaerys #jacaerys x oc #jacaerys strong #jacaerys #jacaerys x y/n #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys x you #harwin strong x reader #harwin strong #hbo house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon

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fandomwritingbit · 3 months

Text

Sweet Girl pt.5

dbf/William Afton x (fem) virgin/reader

pt.1 - here. pt.2 - here. pt.3 - here. pt.4 - here.

Synop: Bored of the lack of contact you and William decide to bring wanking to the 21st century.

Warnings: Smut, masturbation, obsessive behaviour/thoughts for the both of you, corruption, coercion. Virgin reader.

A/n: MATES, MATES, I FUCKING WROTE SOMMET. This is not a drill, I wrote something after weeks of nada and it's... well, it's mediocre. But it's something! This was not the part 5 I had planned but rather a dirty thought that ran away with me that I hope reads half decently.

Is this fuck proofread lmao, soz for any errors I'll try to fix them later on x

You wake very confused, squinting in the light from your bedroom window that was much too bright for 8 in the morning, so you lift yourself from your sheets to check your phone: 9:30. You’ve overslept. Siting up properly you glace at your side table clock through sleepy eyes, needing to confirm the reality of the time, you set an alarm, what the fuck? You have plans today that are now going to have to be pushed up.

You’re up like a whirlwind, messaging the friend you’re supposed to be having breakfast with that it’s now going to have to be a lunch, a late lunch ideally. Surprisingly they’re not too put out, they must be running late themselves. Crisis averted, you head downstairs to get yourself some coffee which will hopefully combat the awful feeling of having screwed your whole day up already. To be fair, it’s about time something like this happened to you, life’s been too easy for too long. Well, baring the odd relationship with your father’s friend, of course.

Not wanting to tackle the coffee machine, which you swear is as old as you, if not older, you go for coffee granules and the kettle. A simple man’s brew, and that’s certainly how you feel today. You hadn’t bothered with dressing or throwing a dressing gown on, it’s a warm enough morning that you can stand in the kitchen in your pyjama shorts and vest without shivering, the only cold you feel is your bare feet on the tile.

Your kettle clicks and you set about making your cup, ignoring the squeak of the backdoor opening, you’ll greet whichever parent it is when they greet you, if the interaction can be delayed it’s for the best. You pour your water, but the sudden and crisp sound of a wolf whistle makes you overspill onto the counter. Sliding your phone out the way of the spillage, you turn to see the sniggering face of William and your heart manages to soar and sink at the same time, something only this man is able to do.

Your annoyed expression melts into a flush, you know exactly why he whistled and you cross your arms over your chest accordingly, hard up to do anything about the shorts position high up your thighs.

“Sorry,” He says without any conviction, still grinning as the coffee begins to drip off the edge of the worktop. Adding slyly, “You wouldn’t mind making me one, would you?”

You neglect to answer, going for an embarrassed, “What are you doing here?” instead. The man’s been in your kitchen for less than a minute and you already feel like you shouldn’t be here, for your own protection. Last time springs to your mind, involuntarily quickening your heart rate. He’d caught you off guard then too, then used you up and wrung you out, and you loved every second of it. You hate him for that, and the way your pussy seems to know when he’s in the room, it’s not fair.

“Clearing out the garage with you dad.” He presents his palms in his own defence, the smug look of him shows his pride at begging her legitimately. “He told me you were out.” It’s phrased like a question, again making you feel like a trespasser in your own home.

“I’m supposed to be.” You explain without detail, averting your gaze from his and instantly remembering the mess on the counter, and now the floor.

“Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes. Especially in that.” He laughs meanly, making you frown. You look pretty all annoyed at him, the furrow of your brown not doing anything to hide the heat on your face from the invasive way his eyes drink you in. And as if that wasn’t far enough he steps forward, sliding his hand over the silky fabric coating your hip. “Almost as revealing as that pretty little bikini.” Your back hits the surface behind you, he has a knack for cornering you, but you suppose it’s not exactly herding cats if the prey doesn’t want to run away.

The comment hits home though and you remember exactly how easy it was for him to move that garment aside and-

You’re pulled from that thought as his hand slides further, over your hip to your arse. “Stop.” You say a little breathless, not liking how he just grins at the word. “...My dad could walk in.”

“That didn’t stop you last time.” His tone is mocking, riddled with amusement at how you can’t seem to refuse him.

“That was stupid… You make me stupid.” You mutter, pushing his hand away and trying to ignore how affected you feel already. “You need to stop.” You affirm, holding your voice steady to prevent the whine that threatened to accompany it.

William leans closer to you, a mean joy practically emanating from him when your breath hitches. He speaks lowly, a gleeful edge warming you for him and doing everything possible to add to that stupidity “Are you going to make me?”

You just look up at him, your chest rising quickly less than half an inch from his. “...Yes.” You finally manage, nerves and need in your core making you hesitant. Your eyes are wide in wait for response, and the man holds firm just long enough that you panic. He reaches behind you for something before obeying your word, you realise sharpish that he’s plucked your phone from the countertop.

Trying to take it back fails when he catches your wrist and flicks you away. You’re whining like a child, unable to help the discomfort flooding your veins at him holding something so personal. “William, give it back. What are you-” Your words die when he simply holds the phone in front of you and you hear the subtle click of your face ID unlocking it.

You watch angrily as he steps away with the device, internally fighting the urge to try and take it back by force.

He glances at your outrage, stoking it with, “You must have some dirty secrets on here to protest so much.” Shaking his head, he makes you wait whilst he does whatever he nicked your phone to do. Chuckling as he has to manoeuvre the screen from your sight when you try to at least see what he’s doing. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m giving you my number… You don’t want to entertain me now, then you can later.”

You find yourself nodding when he hands you the phone back.

Your day is spent, lunch and coffee with your mate over and done with, dinner with your parents finished. So you slip away to bed with your phone clutched to your chest, which is tight with forbidden excitement. Halfway through the day your checking of messages was fruitful, with one from William telling you that you’re going to ‘entertain him’ at 11pm tonight, and despite your naivety you know exactly what that means.

The only way to combat your nerves is preparation so you pick out a matching bra and knickers set, light pink and lacy, you know he’s going to like them, perhaps too much if anything. Then a white nightdress, just see-through enough to give a hint as to the underwear underneath.

Then it’s propping your phone up with a pillow and sitting cross-legged on your bed, checking to see it the view will be good, and it certainly will. From there, all you do is wait, your foot absentmindedly tapping away with the excess excitement, you’re aroused at the thought of it. A dirty video call with a bloke older than your dad, it’s everything you’re not supposed to do, a bad idea all around, but that just makes your panties that bit wetter.

He’s a little late, but the very moment he calls you answer, not even waiting for a ring. It makes him smirk, such a sweet thing, ready for him, no doubt waiting for him. Fuck, if he was twenty years younger he’d scale the window and see it in person.

You know you’ve given your want away by his sly expression, and he teases you by saying, “Eager, huh?”

You pout, now hating all the effort you went to and trying to explain it away. “Well, I was expecting-I knew you were going to-”

Somehow, even through your tiny phone screen he has enough presence to be able to cut you off. “It’s a good thing.” He pauses before adding with a snicker, “I doubt you’re as eager as me.” He shifts as he says that and your heart skips a beat at the thought of him touching himself already. It’s a power only he has ever given you, to know just how mental you make him and that power makes your core tighten.

“Now, sweet thing.” There’s a nonchalance to his words that contradict the fact he’s palming himself over his boxers, he can’t help it, he can see the strap of your bra peeking out and the curve of your hips suggested by your nightie. It doesn’t pass him by that he’s fucking pathetic. “Have you got headphones, or do I have to keep my voice down?”

You hadn’t thought of that, but you’re glad he did when you think how often you hear your parents tv through the wall. So you reach to your bedside drawer to retrieve your headphones, well aware that he’s watching you and trying to catch sight of whatever he can. And after a moment you plug them in and pop them in your ears, flushing when you realise that the sound feels a lot more intimate now. Maybe he knew that.

“God you drive me crazy with all the tiny fucking clothes you wear.” He’s laughing but you know he’s not joking. You’re not in a position to laugh, how exactly can you tell him that he drives you crazy with everything he fucking does. From the tensing of his jaw to the delirious sensation of his voice on your skin. All of it has your body begging for anything he’s willing to give you, regardless of what your mind thinks.

You can’t prevent a small smile on your lips though, “I don’t do it on purpose.” Even as you say it you know it’s a lie, you didn’t do it on purpose at first, now though, you want him to see you.

“Don’t fucking lie to me, sweetheart.” He knows you better than that. You giggle, it should be illegal for him to read your mind that easily. “I’d wager under that nightie you’re wearing something nice for me. Like a gift to be unwrapped.” The look on your face says it all, when you bite your lip like that he wants to bite it for you. “Am I right?”

You can hardly look at your screen, but you nod, barely able to sit still.

“Fuck, let me see.” Something about how he’s speaking now is very telling and you revel in the feeling for a moment before shifting to sit on your feet.

“Okay.” You sound so small and quiet you can hardly hear it over that arousal in your blood. Your fingers hook under the bottom of your nightdress, hesitant to begin the process and your eyes flick to the screen.

You catch his gaze and he smirks, “Come on, you know I’d do it for you if I could.” That you are certain of, sometimes there’s such hunger in his eyes you think he’s a breath away from ripping the fabric off you.

You do as asked, your panties straps revealed high on your hips guiding the sight up your stomach,then to the thin lace hardly covering your breasts. You were right, he does like it. Much too much.

“God, you are like a fucking present.” You grin at that, watching the hint of movement you can see towards the bottom of the screen, and you core pangs with the knowledge of what he’s doing. Now sitting on your feet, you press your heel between your legs and jump at the jolt of stimulation it brings.

Your lip is between your teeth again as you debate whether you’re brave enough to ask for what you want. “...Show me.” You manage in a surge of voice, you wish you didn’t sound as shy as you do.

You hear William’s scoff of disbelief, he hadn’t expected you to ask that but he supposes it’s only fair. “Yeah?”

You nod, watching eagerly as he moves a hand to change the angle of your view. The sight stirs you immensely, his boxers pulled down enough to let his cock free, he held it, touching himself at a slow pace. You rake the image for what you can see, his shirt pulled up to let you see the trail of dark hair that leads down to his length. A crazy part of you burns to press your nose against his trail, curiosity, or something dirtier you don’t know, but you know he’d let you if you asked.

It’s with near fascination you watch his stroke himself, not noticing how you’ve begun grinding your pussy against your heel, your knickers are clinging to your slick but all shame is lost.

“I didn’t expect you to want to see.” He sniggers, you recognise the thickness of his voice, remembering the pride in your core when you took him in your mouth, the heavy breathing of someone clinging on to their self restraint by the tips of their fingers. There’s precum on his tip smeared by each rise of his fist, it’s a dirty feeling and if you were in his reach he’d have it resting pretty on your tongue.

Soon your movement isn’t enough anymore, your heat whines for better friction, the attention on your clit that he does just right. It’s written in your posture and the pinch of frustration between your brows.

William’s voice affirms your need. “You can touch yourself, lovely. Don’t have to wait to be told.”

“I know.” You reply quickly, embarrassed at how easy he’d jumped to that conclusion. If you were harder to read maybe he wouldn't have such a hold on you.

“Or do you want me to ask?” There it is again, that mocking that shouldn’t speak directly to your slick, it’s condescending but you know in your heart that he knows better. You open your mouth to protest the teasing but you have no chance to. “Come on, show me how you play late at night, how you give yourself what you need.” He wants to seem like he’s humouring you but right now, with his cock in his hand, he’d beg to see just how you touch your perfect cunt.

You’re doing it, shifting your position so you’re sitting properly, legs raised to let you trace over your bundle of nerves. The fabric of your panties quickly proves irritating, so you hurry to take them off, glancing repeatedly at the view on screen, dying to match the rhythm of him stroking himself, not wanting to miss anything. At the sight of your pussy bare for him, knickers discarded, he hisses through his teeth; now that is the kind of thing that gets a bloke in serious trouble.

“And the rest.” He adds, and you’re so lost in your new-found touch it takes you a moment to realise what he’s referring to, when you do you push the bra straps from your shoulders, shimmying the garment down so that your chest is free. Your nipples are hard from your excitement, all parts of you aware of the growing need in your core, begging for the release your touch promises. It should be familiar but with William’s eyes on you it takes you time to remember what you like.

You rub your clit, the cues from your body calling for you to press your fingers inside your hole. You’re unable to reach like he does, but it’s enough to bring your end into sight and a soft moan from your lips.

He’s chuckling watching how weak you become, like he’s not moving faster with the taste of release on his tongue. It takes a lot for him to ask the question burning in his head, he already knows the answer but hearing it from you is going to be delicious. “Tell me, what you think about, when you play with yourself, sweet thing.” The words are stilted with his involuntarily quickening pace, he’s close and it’s fucking stupid how much he needs to cum.

“You.” You say instantly, voice cracking. Your head between my legs, fingers hooking inside, teeth on my neck as you line your cock up between my legs. You haven’t the coherent thought process to say that, it’s flicking images of past imaginings, you shouldn’t want to give yourself to this man as much as you do.

William grunts, speaking through gritted teeth to try and remain somewhat controlled, though there’s nothing controlled about his frantic movement, nor yours. “You’re so fucking lucky I’m not in there with you.”

It’s not a threat, you’ve seen the size of him, you’ve been delirious from just his fingers, but you want it. You want him in there with you. You want it all.

He loses it at your wide eyed look, fucking his fist ‘til his cum is dripping down his abdomen. You're not far yourself from the view alone, but you can hear his breathing, the groan right as he touches the peak. And your walls clamp around your fingers in stuttering waves of climax, you shiver with it, your legs unwillingly pressing together. You have to bite the inside of your cheeks to keep any noise leaving you, a startled thought of discovery hitting you out of nowhere.

“Fucking hell.” His voice makes you regain your senses, he’s chuckling and the hand not coated in release slips out of shot to rub the bridge of his nose; why is it so much better when a pretty thing like you is watching?

“William?” You’re shaky as you speak, weighing up what you want to ask, deciding that closed mouths don’t get fed. In response he tilts the camera up so you can see he’s listening, and you can’t help but hit screenshot at the sight of him so dishevelled. “Next time… I want you to be here with me.”

He laughs, “Anything you want, princess. I mean it.”

#fnaf #william afton #william afton x reader #william afton smut #fnaf smut #william afton x you #fnaf william afton #fnaf movie #steve raglan x reader #steve raglan x you

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almacambiondaughterofsaleos · 9 months

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Ukefication Of Stolas

Just as many people said that Vivziepop's writing is kind of like the worst of fanfiction tropes, I think one trope in particular is being invoked with Stolas is the Ukefication. It's a term where a character is devolved into a vulnerable and emotional character so they can be submissive to their partner and look more pitiful so you can feel sympathy for them and that they seek comfort in his significant other. A trait that can be seen with Stolas as the show goes on.

Let's go back to the pilot where although he's obsessed with Blitzo, he also can make demands of him and presents himself as someone who has his own agenda other than sex. He actually lives up to the persona of a demon lord and is unapologetic about his depravity. He's a guy who feels like he could be an antagonist if Blitzo gets on his bad side. The guy is truly someone who you should have a bit of fear for.

In the first episode, we do still see him more softer in voice but at the same time there is hint of that devious manipulator who can use Blitzo's situation to exchange more sex out of him. Noticeably, this would be the last time we see hints of his pilot immorality here. Mostly because of the questionable consent of the relationship. But again showing how he holds the cards in the relationship and Blitzo has to navigate his way to say in his favors.

Even though Stolas called in for protection from imp, it was merely an excuse to get close to Blitzo and he showed what he was capable of taking care of himself. It again shows that Stolas is a being capable of doing stuff himself but enjoys Blitzo's company due to his lusting over him.

Seriously, "Truth Seekers" we blatantly see Stolas being the one calling the shots and chaining Blitzo up. trying to show us that he feels trapped in this relationship even if later it would be shown he was the one who got it in Stolas' head they were a item. But again this demonstrates how unequal it feels and how everything seems to be out of his hand

In that same episode, we also see how much of a monster Stolas can be and that even though he's just a prince he still outmatches DHORKS who are slaughtered without any mercy.

I think where the shift happens is in the "Circus" where the established backstory of them being childhood friends was shown and we get more bad slash fanfiction tropes at us. He's also made way younger from an ancient demon who was a fallen angel to just a millennial parent in hell years. And we got this scene where Blitzo plays dominant seducer in order to get the book. We see Stolas be reluctant to sleep with him but gradually gets more into it when he misinterprets his move as being sexually enthusiastic. This is contrast as said before how Blitzo felt trapped when in reality he was the one who got the ball rolling and it shaves off the feeling of domination he previously was tormented by. A

Also the "Circus" finally confirmed Stella had always been abusive and still was in his life because she wanted to torment him. And even though it would have been interesting for her character showing she was always bad, the way they portray it is just so boing that it feels more like derailed characterization in a fanfiction rather than any smart writing. And again it feels like the childhood friend thing just to make Stolas more sympathetic and woobify him due to fans noticing how crappy he comes off as. It's also made to make Stolitz look better in comparison and make him into this sad owl man who just needs someone like Blitzo to finally accept him.

This ukefication can also be seen in how in "Seeing Stars" he mentions how weak he is in the human world when we previously saw him practically at full power without the grimoire and it comes off more of an excuse to make him seem less of a powerhouse and more of a vulnerable person to "relate" to and for him to fawn over Blitzo as he does stuff.

Again in Western Energy they pull out any bs excuse in order to make him be in danger from Striker. This gets annoying that even if he's not one hundred percent based the actual Stolas it again is annoying see someone named after a demon lord be such a wimp in order to damsel him in the episode. And again even more embarrassing it's from one of the lower class demands like an imp. I know they said it's' blessed ropes but you would think that imp would be affected handling that as well if they weren't careful. And even then it should be more difficult taking on a goetia which are said to be very dangerous demons in demonology.

Finally we get Stolas in the last scene after being badly hurt by Striker he has numerous injuries from being stabbed and beaten up. Again he really looks not like the Demon Lord in the pilot but more like those slash doujins you see online. He really was wussified for this ship and to make him into this big teddy bear the fans can feel sorry for even though we know he's capable. And again make Blitzo feel sorry for not being there when was kidnapped.

Overall, as season two has gone on we really see how wussified/ukeficated Stolas has become. He not only has that air of being a great demon to not mess with, but just this more pitiful puppy that is pampered by the creator because of their favored ship. She wants to sell this by making Stolas this poor baby that can't do wrong and is weaker and vulnerable than he looks. It really is sad how a character with so much character is taken down to indulge in an obnoxious romance.

#stolas #stella goetia #stolas goetia #loona #blitzo #helluva boss #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critique #helluva boss critical #vivziepop #vivziepop critical #vivziepop criticsim #vivziepop critique #anti-vivziepop #stolitz #pilot stolas #helluva stolas #anti-stolitz #striker

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sugar-grigri · 3 months

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Have you seen Fami's right ear ? Because I haven't.

The game of interpretation in reverse, or focusing on what seems to be avoided by the chapter, not shown, works! and even if it doesn't work, it's still fun and leads to wild theories, which I love to imagine. And this post is no exception to that rule.

We had chapter 155 where we interpreted backwards to find answers to Denji and Nayuta's existential crises.

We also interpreted backwards to better understand the inconsistencies in Yoshida's behavior and the implications for chapter 156.

In my opinion, chapter 157 is no exception to this rule. Focusing on what the author refuses to show in order to find the answers fits in well with a mangaka fascinated by cinema.

Not convinced? Chapter 156 ended on Asa's legs, like a superhero ready to take on the big bad alone. The next chapter directly contradicts what it had already demonstrated. But why? Because you shouldn't trust either the author or the way the characters present themselves to you. That's what this whole chapter is about.

What matters to you may not necessarily matter to the characters. Our focus on the first page would be on Asa's missing arm. Yet she brushes it aside, as if she were dismissing our concerns with a wave of the hand: what's important to her, strangely enough, is wearing her uniform!

Which raises another question... have you seen much of Asa without her uniform? Yes, we've seen her without it, but more often than not, it's her fetish outfit for readers.

I could tell you that, once again, this is to emphasize the fact that we don't have the same temporality on the characters, and that Fujimoto insists more and more on what he refuses to show, but I'll be accused of over-interpreting, so let's carry on.

Fami's statement that appearing to be a high-school student is the best cover for me immediately brings to mind a specific public hunter, who also appears always dressed in his uniform! But people will tell me that I'm being too defensive of this character, so.... Let's continue even further

Asa manages to turn the guns on those who were going to shoot them, all by imagining that she had been able to redeem them.

It's precisely because she's disconnected from reality that she's able to create the illusion that her power works

And I repeat: disconnecting from the events we see in Chainsaw Man helps us too.

Asa is able to create weapons without even needing to touch them, i.e. to touch the concrete, the agent who watches over them is right to recognize her but wrong in believing she's there to help the church members in the basement, when in fact she's there for Chainsaw Man. It's normal for him to think that!

Because that's how she was presented on TV!

Which shows what? That you can't trust everything you see

Just before, we had a focus on Asa's legs, particularly through her walking, the fact that she's almost running

Let's interpret this in reverse again. Did you see Fami's hands? Yes, we see them, but never up close and never open.

What was important was obscured by the fact that, at the end, it was noted that she did have something in her hands, but the chapter focused on Asa's legs, even though she had slipped.

Pay no attention to what was emphasized to guess what happens next

In the title, I'm talking about Fami's right ear, because she is abnormally shown on the same side throughout the chapter.

Because it's hiding an earpiece? I'd have liked to, but I don't think so. As someone pointed out in the previous post: you can still see her ear on page 2.

The point is not to think that Fami is tilting her head to hide something in her ear, but why is she shown so much the same way?

The fact that she's bent over reminded me of chapter 140, when Denji visits the CSM church for the first time. At the end of that chapter, Barem presents an ultimatum: which side is heavier? Chainsaw Man represented by that cable on Denji's torso or his peaceful life with his family?

The chapter 140 is called "Scales", evoking the weighing of these two choices, and Fami, who is supposed to represent the church, is already tipped over.

Why? Because the choice has already been made

Denji chose to be Chainsaw Man, but when he realized it, he was faced with the fire in which he lost his cat and dogs.

When he transformed, he found himself endangering his little sister Nayuta

The scales tipped in Chainsaw Man's favor, to the detriment of his family.

The way Fami was always presented on the same side was to make it clear which way his head was tilting : to the left.

Okay, but how do you explain Fami's head being tilted the other way in other earlier chapters? It's normal, Denji's choice is very recent! He hesitated until now!

All this makes even more sense with her Chainsaw Man earrings, which represent cables.

And then you'll tell me "it would work if she had a cable earring on the same ear, but it's safe on both ears so it doesn't work", yes it does, trust us, we'll carry on.

When does Asa fall in part 2? Often when death is near, almost like a bad omen announcing it. She falls crushing Bucky, she falls with Yuko who later dies prematurely, she almost falls when her mother sacrifices herself...

So death is near.

And two things can explain it :

Fami is bent over to symbolize the fact that Chainsaw Man has been chosen over his peaceful life.

The chapter again emphasizes that Asa can save Chainsaw Man by attacking Chainsaw Man, because Chainsaw Man prevents Denji from having access to his peaceful life, hence the fact that Fami is bent over.

But let's think about it another way: in chapter 155, Denji emphasized the fact that he didn't know what a family was, having committed patricide, how could he possibly understand this notion?

Denji killed his father, his brother, his sister died for him...

So Chainsaw Man has always put his family at risk, which seems logical given everything we've said.

But remember that in this same chapter, we found an answer: Chainsaw Man is an empty shell filled with the people he loves, his family, and his aim is to protect them.

When Denji says he wants to be Chainsaw Man, it's to protect his family, who fill him as an empty shell.

When Fami says we must kill Chainsaw Man to save him, she's right.

Maybe not because there are 2 Chainsaw Man, since Pochita and Denji are inseparable.

But because to protect what has filled Chainsaw Man's heart, you have to kill the source of his misfortune, himself.

And that's why it all works, even if Fami's two earrings are cables, because even killing Chainsaw Man, the empty shell, saves what filled it - his family.

That's why Asa falls, because the end and Denji's sacrifice are close at hand.

But second interpretation.

Remember, when Asa falls, it means that death is near. So.................. who's next to her?

Obviously, this is pure theory, but I find it amusing.

Why does Fami only show one side? Because she didn't present herself well.

If Fami has insisted on anything from the start, it's that we call it Fami, not Famine. Why is that? Because she renamed herself just as quickly as Yoru did, choosing a name that hid her true identity.

Remember how Yoshida told her she was terrible at choosing names, to which Fami retorted that she didn't care if anyone found out who she was?

Is that really the case? Wasn't it to reinforce the fact that she was supposedly the devil of famine?

The first time Fami appears, in Asa's school, she introduces herself as the war devil's big sister (= true), which she does again at the aquarium, introducing herself as the famine demon (= false), called Fami (= true).

But as we've seen, you can lie about a devil's name, just as Fami did with the fire demon, presenting him as the devil of justice.

So what's to stop her from lying about the fear she represents too?

I know it sounds crazy, but what happened when the devil of eternity appeared? People were hungry!

And the first time Fami didn't intervene, the more time passed, the more the hunger grew, the stronger the demon seemed to become.

What's to stop the devil of eternity being the devil of famine?

You : "it's a tactic for Fami to use the power of the demon of eternity to starve them out". Yes it's true! But my theory about the wrong choice of devil names is possible too. The trick is not to say that what's been presented to us doesn't work, but to try and question it.

The famine devil falsely called the devil of eternity could be defeated by Denji twice: in part 1, because he had overcome the famine by becoming a public hunter

In part 2, because he fed Asa!

If Fami has insisted on anything from the start, it's that we call her Fami, not Famine. Why is that? Because she renamed herself just as quickly as Yoru did, choosing a name that hid her true identity : the Death Devil.

So, since the answers lie in what we can't see, what's stopping Fami from tripping Asa?

Which explains Asa's shocked face.

But above all, it implies that his fall was not an unintentional one, as it always is when death is near, but that it was caused by death.

So if we line up the interpretations: death doesn't want mankind to disappear.

How do I know this?

Because she said so! She loves pizzas.

Death wants to kill Chainsaw Man to remain the sole end of beings. To stop it, all you have to do is eat her.

#csm 157 #chainsaw man #csm #csm part 2 #csm spoilers #denji #asa #asa mitaka #yoru #famine devil #fami #nayuta #yoshida hirofumi #We're moving away from pure analysis I'm trying to theorize because I think it's fun!

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kvetchinglyneurotic · 11 months

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The common thread I've seen in a lot of posts about Ted's decision to return to Kansas is the question of whether he's happier there or in Richmond. Here's the thing, though: in my view, Ted's character arc is not about (or not only about) finding a place where he is happy, but rather learning to coexist with discomfort so that he can be present for the people and in the place that matters most to him.

When Ted is sixteen years old, his father commits suicide. His mother doesn't know how to process her grief or help Ted process his, so she pushes all her messy, painful emotions down under a blanket of cheerful optimism and Ted follows suit. He grows into adulthood unable to acknowledge his sadness or anger, which leads to the dissolution of his marriage. (Ted's reaction to Dottie during her visit illustrates how wearing this attitude would be from the other side.) Michelle asks for space, very likely intending for him to move into another house in the same city where he could do an equal share of co-parenting, and instead he moves halfway across the world to coach a sport he knows nothing about.

Ted builds a community in Richmond, because of course he does: he is very, very good at connecting with people. Part of that is because he's determined not to let anyone get by him who might be hurting, as he says, but he's also clearly a naturally sociable person — there is virtually no way he didn't have these kinds of connections in Kansas. While his life in Richmond seems more "real" to us, the audience, because that's the part of his life we see, for Ted, his "real life" has always been in Kansas. He misses Henry, obviously, but he's also intensely homesick: for most of the show, he fails to integrate to a degree that seems almost wilful; he only tells stories about his life in Kansas and the people he knew there; he goes to a terrible American restaurant in Amsterdam and the first thing he thinks of when he sees Van Gogh's Sunflowers is home.

All of which is to say that while Ted creates some deep and hopefully lasting connections in Richmond, it's not where he fundamentally wants to be. He wants to be present for his son; he wants to live in the state where he grew up and which he clearly loves — and that means facing his grief and anger at his father's suicide, and the fact that Henry will one day grow up and leave him, and the reality of his divorce and his ex-wife's new relationship (although I really, really wish they'd chosen literally any other man to be the new boyfriend if they didn't want to address the implications of Michelle dating their former marriage counsellor).

#ted lasso #ted lasso s03e12 #rolling up like three weeks late with my take on the ted goes back to kansas discourse #sorry this is so long i've never been succinct a day in my life #kvetch oc

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uswnt-imagines · 9 months

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Accidents

Reader gets in a bad car accident and the team freaks out. Does the gif match the vibe? Absolutely not.

“Okay. Yes, I’ll let them know. Keep me updated.”

Vlatko sighed as he hung up the phone. He had no idea how he was going to break this to the team.

The team sat in the conference room as they waited for the meeting to start. Sam Mewis, who sat next to Rose Lavelle, looked around, noticing they were missing someone. "Hey guys, where's Y/N?" Everyone stopped their conversations. Kelley spoke up. "She's probably running late. As usual. Kid can't keep track of time."

As the words left the defender's mouth, Vlatko walked in the room, looking sad. The girls immediately picked up on this. Alex spoke up. "Uh, Vlatko, you wouldn't happen to know where Y/N is do you?"

The look on the man's face told the story. "Y/N couldn't make it to this camp." The team looked at him in shock. "What do you mean she couldn't make it? It's all she was talking about." That was Christen Press. She had taken Y/N under her wing when she signed for Angel City. Her and Tobin became her adopted moms since her parents weren't present in the girl's life.

Vlatko cleared his throat. "Y/N is in the hospital. In a coma." It was so silent, a pin could drop. "What do you mean in a coma? I just talked to her yesterday morning!" Mal Pugh (aka Y/N's adopted sister) yelled. The man sighed.

"She was in a car accident."

To say the hospital workers were overwhelmed was an understatement.

A couple of hours ago, there was a bad car accident, which led to the nurses finding out they had a USWNT superstar on their hands. Following that, hundreds of paparazzi swarmed the outside of the hospital. The stressed nurses had called almost every police department to come help. But the biggest cop couldn't stop the storm that was coming their way.

The nurse sitting at the front desk popped an aspirin as the doors slammed open. 22 angry, worried women stormed in, heading right towards her desk.

"Where is she!?" The woman's eyes went wide at the sight of an angry Christen Press. "Excuse me ma'am, please calm down, I'll have a doctor come talk to you shortly, Y/N is still getting moved."

The words silenced the hoard of women. The woman sighed internally as they all dispersed and sat down in silence.

After what felt like hours, a doctor emerged from the doors. "Y/N Y/L/N?" The team shot up from their seats and swarmed the man. Questions were shot at him left and right.

"What happened?"

"Is she okay?"

"Where's the ass who hit her?"

The doctor chuckled at the reaction of the women. "Yes. I will answer all of your questions. Please take a seat."

The team sat with bated breath, waiting for the doctor to speak.

"Now, Y/N was brought to us after a drunk driver hit her car. The car hit the drivers side, where you friend was sitting, so she took most of the hit."

Christen grabbed Tobin's hand, squeezing for support.

"She suffered 8 broken ribs, her radius in her left arm was shattered, her leg got pinned and shattered, the surgery on that went very well. She has a severe case of whiplash so we are going to keep an eye on her neck, luckily, no spinal injuries that are too bad, there's some swelling but nothing to worry about yet. As we told your coach, we currently have her in a medically induced coma because of slight swelling in her brain. We are keeping an eye on that as well. She is expected to make a full recovery, but it is going to be hard."

The team all sat in silence, letting the man's words wash over them.

A sniffle was heard, which set everyone off. Tears fell from 22 pairs of eyes as reality set in.

Y/N was never going to be the same.

The doctor informed the women that the room Y/N was in was big enough to accommodate everyone as he lead them to where they settled the girl.

He stopped outside of the door. "I do have to warn you, she is pretty banged up so it's gonna be hard to look at her at first. But she's going to be okay. I can tell by how you burst into the ER that she was in good hands."

The women thanked him as he opened the door, revealing their teammate.

Y/N looked so small with all the wires and machines hooked up to her. Ali turned and buried her head in Ashlyn's chest, the taller woman wrapping her arms around her wife tightly.

Christen was beside herself. Her sunshine was hurt and there was nothing she could do about it. Her and Tobin stood next to Y/N's bed.

"Hey baby. We're all here. We just need you to wake up so we can take care of our sunshine girl okay? You wake up when you're ready. No rush."

All the girls spread out in the room, all ready to spring up just in case. After getting comfortable, sleep enveloped the team.

Excessive beeping woke the girls up as Christen and Tobin shot up and flanked Y/N's bedside. The girl was now awake and her eyes were full of fear as she tried to tear the tube out of her throat. Christen gently grabbed her hands and held them tightly.

"Hang on baby. A nurse is coming and then we can get that tube out okay?" Y/N nodded with tears in her eyes.

After a nurse came in and took the tube out, Y/N hacked violently. Mal stood with a small cup of water, gently tipping the cup back so Y/N could drink.

The team all stood around Y/N's bed. The girl's eyes filled with happy tears. "You're all here." Alex smiled. "Of course bub. We wouldn't wanna be anywhere else." The girls nodded as Y/N looked at her adopted "family". Mal slipped into bed with Y/N gently guiding her head to her chest. "I'm so glad you're okay. I don't know what I would've done if you weren't." Y/N sniffled and nuzzled into Mal's chest.

Christen and Tobin wrapped their arms around the two girls. Pinoe sneakily took a picture of the group and posted it.

@m.rapinoe: Thank you everyone for the kind wishes and thoughts about our girl. She's awake and thriving. It's gonna be a long road, but she's got her family to guide her down it. We will see you guys soon.

Liked by: s.bird10, sophiabush, and 75,309 others

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt fanfic

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