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#some more battle poses this time
avanii · 9 months
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Have some more Camerupts! Every cow I draw turns into one it seems, whoops. They're just so fun, such good shapes, just a silly beast with wee volcanoes on its back. I love them.
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a-stars-art-blog · 7 months
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What if Young!Joseph was a merman?
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Hmm. Yeah what if.
Bonus Caesar :]
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soon-palestine · 2 months
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Hostages tortured to death. Parents executed in front of their children. Doctors beaten. Babies murdered. Sexual assault weaponised. No, not Hamas crimes. This is part of an ever-growing list of documented atrocities committed by Israel in the five months since 7 October – quite separate from the carpet bombing of 2.3 million Palestinians in Gaza and a famine induced by Israel’s obstruction of aid. And yet while the western establishment media has been chock full of the most lurid allegations of savagery directed against Hamas, sometimes with little or no supporting evidence, Israeli atrocities are excused or quickly forgotten. Accusations against Hamas are endlessly reheated to paint a picture of a supremely dangerous and bestial militant group, in turn rationalising the slaughter and starvation of Gaza’s population to “eradicate” it as a terrorist organisation. But equally barbarous atrocities committed by Israel – not in the heat of battle, but in cold blood – are treated as unfortunate, isolated incidents that cannot be connected, that paint no picture, that reveal nothing of import about the military that carried them out. If Hamas’ crimes were so savage and sadistic they still need to be reported months after they took place, why does the establishment media never feel the need to express equal horror and indignation at equivalent or worse acts of cruelty and sadism being inflicted by Israel on Gaza – not five months ago, but right now? Israel's torture of doctors, its sexual assaults of Palestinian women, it's leaving premature babies to die after its forces stormed a hospital. Where is the outrage? This is part of a pattern of behaviour by the western media that leads to only one possible deduction: Israel’s five-month-long attack on Gaza is not being reported. Rather, it is being selectively narrated – and for the most obscene of purposes. Through consistent and glaring failures in their coverage, establishment media – including supposedly liberal outlets, from the BBC and CNN to the Guardian and New York Times – have smoothed the way for Israel to carry out mass slaughter in Gaza, what the World Court has assessed as plausibly a genocide. The role of the media has not been to keep us, their audiences, informed about one of the greatest crimes in living memory. It has been to buy time for US President Joe Biden to keep arming his most useful of client states in the oil-rich Middle East, and to do so without damaging his prospects for re-election in November’s US presidential vote. If Russian President Vladimir Putin was a madman and a barbarous war criminal for invading Ukraine, as every western media outlet agrees, what does that make Israeli officials, when every one of them supports far worse atrocities in Gaza, directed overwhelmingly at civilians? And more to the point, what does that make Biden and the US political class for materially backing Israel to the hilt: sending bombs, vetoing demands for a ceasefire at the United Nations, and freezing desperately needed aid? Worrying about the optics, the president expresses his discomfort, but he carries on helping Israel regardless. While western politicians and commentators worry about some imaginary existential threat those brief events of five months ago pose to the nuclear-armed state of Israel, Israel is quite literally wiping Gaza off the map day by day, quite undisturbed.
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elixrr · 5 months
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It's heartbreaking, being a fictional character in a fictional world. They're either loved and cared for until they're abandoned by their player, or they're mistreated and misplaced by that player. There's no control, no option for them.
They could fall in love. They could do everything to please their player, but in the end, their player will always leave them behind. They'll end up as some toy to tinker with, a little plaything until their player gets bored and slowly but surely begins to leave them behind.
You did that to them— you did it to him. Maybe you used him so much that you got too bored, or perhaps you just found someone else to play with; you did reach friendship level 10 with him. During your friendship level journey, you've played and listened to all of the voice lines he provided, even repeating your favorites. He sought after the joy of hearing your praise, comment, and remarks in response to his voice lines. He's seen so much of you over the course of the journey, and, in return, he showed himself to you.
But then you left him.
It started off with you visiting strange domains and obtaining its artifacts. Judging by the collection, you definitely weren't trying to rebuild him. Those artifacts and materials were clearly meant for somebody else.
He'd often watch you switch teams to build that mystery person, maybe to test them out; to use them; to play with them. Yet, you'd always come back to him afterward, and because of that, he was fine, satisfied. As long as you'd keep coming back.
But, at some point, you simply didn't return.
He was fighting the monsters of a smoky blue leyline, and he, having won the battles, gave you those same purple and maroon papers that you needed for this mystery person. You were happy. You looked really relieved to finally get these, and through the mask of an idle animation, he smiled, proud of himself for making you smile. You thanked him, and then you switched the character and team, and you were out of view once more.
He sighed, tired from fighting all these battles and random enemies, but he was glad that you'd probably be able to finish leveling this mystery character up. Now you can keep playing with and using him, right? This way, you'll be done with this other person, and you'll come back to him, right?
Wrong.
One whole day passed. You were online, but he couldn't see you.
Another day passed. Where'd you go? Are you still testing out that new person?
Five days drag by. Some of those days you didn't go on for, but for the most part, you were there, just not for him. What happened? Why weren't you coming back?
One full week had finally passed.
You were nowhere to be seen.
Waiting in the team lineup screen began to get lonely. You took two of the supports with you, and so he couldn't talk to him. One other person remained. Another support, but more off-field. Often, he would glance at them to see how they were doing. Even they looked as miserable as he did, but eventually, they found their way back to you through another team composition.
You took everyone with you except for him.
Where did you go?
He tumbled, falling down on the ground. It's been nearly a full month. You haven't even looked at him once. He could see through the slightly translucent walls and backgrounds, and he saw other team lineups waiting. He saw one team in use, as it had an open fourth wall and it was emptied, meaning that the characters left that team screen to join back into the world of teyvat.
He began to reminisce about his first awakening when you got him, you were smiling really hard. You were so excited when he woke up in that wishing star, striking a pose. He doesn't know how long he'd been unconscious around that time, but you woke him up, and you gave him more purpose, more life. He could see you and everything behind you. He could see that there was more than just teyvat through this strange wall you lived past. He was curious, yet he was happier just being yours to have in your little party with different people, some of which he had never seen before.
But now they're gone, and so were you. He doubts that they're ever coming back, and he doubts that you'll ever come back to him.
Wait.
The fourth wall in front of him shatters.
Is that you?
He immediately stood up, ready to greet you with that same pose he would always strike in the team lineup. And the moment you opened that wall, all of the other supports came back instantly, like they never left in the first place. He wasn't alone anymore.
His eyes lit up. You selected his character and were going through his character details. You're finally paying more attention to him! Are you finally gonna use him again? He puts his hands together as you check his artifacts.
There's a moment of hesitation in you. He barely opens his eyes to look at your apologetic face. You whisper an apology, and— to his horror— strip him of his artifacts one by one.
His flower is gone. His feather was taken. His sands timer, his goblet, and his circlet were stripped of his very being. Then you switched to his weapon. It was his very own weapon that you spent so much time on, and you took even that from him. He looked up to the upper-left corner of the room. Even if the text was backward, he could see that this new weapon was nothing but some random 1-star weapon from some measly chest you opened. You looked at him one more time, and you left his character details.
He felt betrayed. You weren't going to use him anymore. You re-entered the team lineup screen and selected him. He watched you scroll through your list of characters, and within a zap, he was transported to a black screen, a void, a room full of nothing but himself.
You had just completely replaced him.
You left the team lineup, and his eyes were forced shut. Your once beloved main was now back into his deep, endless, meaningless slumber.
.
“Creator! Creator!!”
A large group of people were yelling, waking him and a few others up. It was every single character that you owned and obtained throughout your journey. Some he recognized from the get-go, and others he'd never seen before in all of his life. Everyone you had obtained were shouting for you.
“Wh— wha? What's the matter?”
A short girl with brown hair and amber eyes came up to him in a panic.
“Thank Barbatos, you're up! The player is about to delete the game! We might be erased!”
He froze. You were deleting the game? He put his hand over his mouth. You were really leaving him now, weren't you?
Would you ever come back?
“Please!” The amber-eyed girl cried, “Help us!”
He wobbled backward. He couldn't take this.
“The player loves you! Maybe you can reverse this!”
“They don't.” He mumbled.
“Wh— what?”
“They don't— don't love me anymore.”
He stumbled, falling over at the realization. At that moment, everyone was panicking. The calmest people he knew were crumbling and stressing over this. He looked up at the transparent digital fourth wall. Your mouse hovered over the digital recycling bin.
Suddenly, you spoke.
“It was really nice playing the game, but I think...”
A moment of silence evoked in the crowd.
“...I think I need to start a new chapter of my lif—”
And you let go of that mouse. You let go of them. Everyone felt a strong gust of wind blow them out of the black screen, and they were transported to their designated places in the character list. Nobody—except for the traveler—remained in any team lineup. You removed everything.
He looked around. Black and grey smoke began to overtake the elemental colors of each designated character screen. Everyone banged on the walls until the void took them, and they became forever motionless. They were mannequins now, thoughtless ragdolls standing still. He banged on the glass, using his 1-star weapon to try and break out, but it was useless.
Eventually, he became just like everyone else. A thoughtless, motionless, abandoned toy that you had played with until you left.
(any) genshin men x reader | comment for p.2
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astarion-approves · 9 months
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Tav making astarion a flower crown?
Astarion x GN! reader
Tav makes a flower crown for Astarion. 400+ words drabble
Fluff, just 100% fluff, short and sweet. Third person. No beta and rushed proof reading.
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Through the woods and over countless bridges, Tav was always stopping to pick up a flower along the way. Didn’t matter if it was raining, if there was a battle waiting in the distance, or if the team was exhausted and needed to stop for the night— Tav was always grabbing flowers.
None of the others saw exactly what they were doing with them, mostly assuming it had something to do with creating potions or that it dealt with their magical abilities. Sorcerers were always a strange breed after all.
Perhaps chewing on some flowers would grant them the ability to talk to animals or even as a quick caffeine boost. They all paid no mind to it.
At night, for weeks, Tav would sit away from the rest of the group, fiddling with something in their lap, little glows of light coming from them as they worked in silence.
But then, one morning, Astarion woke up to a surprise waiting beside him.
A crown made entirely of flowers, little daisies and peonies, roses and hydrangea, lillies and buttercups, more flowers than he could even name or count. They were shrunken down so that such a wide variety could fit in a single crown. Their stems weaved together in such a delicate and elegant design. Each flower looked like it just bloomed for the first time, even when Astarion recognized some of them as being picked from the ground weeks ago.
“What’s this?” He picked it up with careful hands, and a sudden warmth flowed through his fingertips and down his arms.
“It—“ Tav sat in their own bedroll, watching Astarion as he studied the crown. Tav was nervous, their hands closed together and blush filling their cheeks. “It’s a flower crown.”
Astarion snorted. “Yes, I know that. Allow me to rephrase. Why the flower crown?”
Tav took a breath, their eyes cast down words as they spoke quietly, “We don’t know what the future holds with these tadpoles and… The crown— it’s enchanted. Protection from sunlight. The flowers will absorb any sun that touches you.”
“You’re telling me,” Astarion began, his lips pressing together for just a moment. “That you… made me a crown to protect me from the sun?”
“Y-yes, but I can’t guarantee that it works. I just… I wanted to at least try.”
“Without asking for anything in return?”
Tav shrugged. “We’re friends, why would I?”
Astarion sighed and put the crown on, looking up to the sky he saw that the day was mostly overcast, but it felt like the sun was shining directly on him and keeping him warm.
He would never admit how good it felt.
“Well, how’s it look?” Astarion leaned back, facing Tav and posing with the crown. “Am I still as handsome as ever?”
Tav smiled. “Always.”
It felt strange having someone you barely knew care so much for you… and to expect nothing in return. Now Astarion felt all warm inside, his heart aching as he gazed back at Tav.
And it wasn’t because of the crown.
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R&R
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Pairing: Cassian x Reader
Summary: Cassian was tired and you were taking forever to get your ass back home.
Word count: 1k
Warnings: nothing! fluff <3
a/n: A little drabble as I ignore my homework.
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Cassian was tired. 
He felt it in his bones and the cracks of his skin.
Dirt was ingrained in every crevice of his leathers, dusting out as he shucked the articles to the ground and stepped into the steaming bath. Training didn’t usually take this much out of him, but there were a host of recruits that he needed to train, all so eager to be part of the troops after the victorious War with Hybern. 
All eager but so, so inept.  
And then you weren’t home when he got here, which pissed him off. 
All he could think about during the hours of training drills and conditioning and corrections was coming home to you, pressing his face into your neck, and falling asleep to the warmth of your skin. He had sent a spark down the bond when he started his journey home, which—to him—was a request for you to come home as well. 
You did not. 
Cassian dried himself off and threw on the closest pair of cotton pants he could find, falling into bed with a huff. 
Ridiculous. 
He was in bed and he was alone. 
He covered his eyes with the bulk of his arm. 
He’d sleep then. Fine. 
Only he couldn’t sleep. The bed smelled like you and he tugged at the bond again. This time, you actually did offer him a reply, and Cassian wanted to drown in the warmth you sent through his chest. 
Where the hell were you?
He flipped onto his stomach and shoved his face into a pillow. He should be able to sleep without you there. He was Illyrian; he had slept in far worse conditions. On rocks, in a tree, standing up against war-torn buildings—Cassian could sleep anywhere at any time. But then he met you and he fell in love with you and you weren’t getting your ass home fast enough.
Cauldron help him if you ever decided to go on vacation. 
Mor had tried something like that when you were freshly mated, posing a girl's trip to you and Feyre. That idea hadn’t gone far.
It had been more about sex and lust and being so enamored by you that he couldn’t breathe back then. Right now he just wanted to get some damn sleep. 
The bedroom door clicked open and unrelenting joy washed away the irritation he was harboring for you. Because how could he be irritated when you came into the room all soft and smiley and bright? Upon further contemplation, Cassian decided that no, he wasn’t ever irritated at you, actually. 
“Hi, Cass,” you called, the sound muting the headache that had begun to form behind the general’s eyes. “How were the recruits? Are they ready to charge into battle?”
You flitted about the room, taking off your coat and setting your bags down and not paying attention to him at all. Cassian fought the urge to tackle you onto the bed just to get you to stop moving. He couldn’t even get a good look at you like this, and he hadn’t seen you all day. He left before you woke up. 
“Yeah maybe in a few years,” Cassian grumbled, following you with his eyes as you started cleaning up the damn room. “C’mere, sweetheart.” 
“I will in just a moment. This place is a mess. You got dirt everywhere, did you know that?” 
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll clean it up later, just come here.” 
You tsked and ignored him. Cassian cursed at the ceiling.
“I was out with Mor earlier and we stopped by Nyx's school to surprise him,” you giggled, grabbing a stupid broom. “He was adorable, of course. He painted you and Az for one of his projects in art. You’ll have to see it when he brings it home. I swear, Cass, he is just hmph—” 
The broom clattered to the floor, forgotten along with the dirt that lined the wood. Your cheeks were encased by Cassian’s hands as he kissed you, and he ran one back to entangle it with your hair. Gods, you smelled good, like strawberries or apples or whatever fruity perfume you were trying while you were out shopping. Cassian deepened the kiss and relished in the surprised sound you made. 
“You didn’t even kiss me when you came in,” he practically pouted, lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “Or look at me.” 
You gripped at his biceps to keep yourself upright, his body pressed so closely to yours. “I didn’t mean to,” you whispered. 
“I know.” He nudged your nose with his. “Lay down with me.” 
“But the floor—” 
“Lay down with me,” he repeated.
A brief pause, a small nod; right now, it took very little to make Cassian so inexplicably happy. 
He gathered you in his arms the moment your body hit the sheets, burying his face in your neck like he was supposed to do about thirty minutes ago. And then you ran your fingers across his scalp and Cassian decided he was dead. There was no other explanation for this type of bliss. 
“Did you have a bad day?” you asked softly. 
“Day was fine. Long, but fine,” he grumbled, pulling you tighter, pressing his lips to your skin. 
You hummed. “Then why couldn’t I clean the room?” 
“Because I’m tired and you were over there.” 
“Not seeing the correlation, my love.” 
Tire was weighing heavy on Cassian’s mind. His body relaxed even more into the bed as his hands ran down the length of your body. 
“I need to hold you to fall asleep,” he replied as if it were obvious. Because it was. 
“Oh.” 
He grunted out a confirmation.
“Well, I’m not exactly ready for bed yet and I told Rhys—” 
“I love you,” Cassian interrupted. “Please stop talking.” 
And then Cassian was no longer pissed or annoyed or tired because nothing was out of place. Sleep found him quickly.
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ohnococo · 5 months
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Pining Hiromi Higuruma HCs
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(Hiromi Higuruma, pining away for you, his coworker. Except he's kind of a pervert about it.)
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Hiromi Higuruma who always listens to your professional opinion, and makes sure to credit you to coworkers and higher ups.
Hiromi Higuruma who becomes your lunchtime venting buddy early on. Sometimes you’ll catch each other's eyes and he’ll give you that look that lets you know he has some shit he needs to say RIGHT now so it’s time to take a break.
Hiromi Higuruma who is happy to help you out off the clock because at least you give him something to look forward to during his stressful days. He really does want to support you in your career growth (among other things).
Hiromi Higuruma who takes turns with you buying each other lunch, then dinner when you have to order takeout for overtime. He knows your go-to order from every place that delivers to your office.
Hiromi Higuruma who looks ten times more stressed when you get back from any time off. His jokes get increasingly more serious about how you “can’t just leave me on my own like that” even when you aren’t working on the same things so your presence makes no difference. Except it does. To him. He feels like his head is going to explode from dealing with work all day without those little moments of relief from being around you.
Hiromi Higuruma who glares at anyone making jokes about him being your “work husband” because it’s unprofessional and “two people can just get along without there being something to it.”
Hiromi Higuruma who knows there absolutely is something to it because he’s so, so bad at not thinking indecent things about you all day long. He doesn’t even know if you’re flirting with him or if it's all in his head. What he does know is he can't bring himself to show restraint over how much time he spends with you in the office.
NSFW/18+ ONLY UNDER THE CUT
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Hiromi Higuruma who, when you eventually bring up adding him on social media, takes weeks to add you back because he knows he can’t be trusted with access to a collection of pictures of you. He was already battling guilt over jerking off to the picture of you on your LinkedIn. It was so posed and styled that it barely looked like your day to day self but it was all he had outside of his imagination for months.
Hiromi Higuruma who feels like a disgusting fucking pervert when he makes a whole folder of saved pics that make his dick twitch after clicking through every single picture. Innocuous things like a photo of you sitting down, looking up at whoever was taking it with a twinkle in your eye - ammo enough for him to picture you looking like that on your knees in front of him. God help him if he finds a picture of you in a swimsuit, or anything more revealing than your work attire. He knows it's scumbag behaviour, and he knows it's risky having them on his phone because he'd look like a crazy person if someone ever saw him with a hidden collection of seemingly innocent pictures of you, but after months and months of pining he sometimes finds he has to lock himself in the bathrooms at work to stroke his cock looking at them. Especially if you've shown up wearing those heels.
Hiromi Higuruma who so helpfully accepts your request to house sit for you when you’re going to be gone for a week. All he needs to do is pop in to water some plants, maybe feed a cat or some fish, just generally check everything was in order. He knows from the second you leave your key with him that he will be an absolute freak about it too. The first time he goes over he finds himself looking in your dirty clothes hamper, heartbroken to find it empty. He doesn’t even finish the actual job he’d come there to do because he feels that fucking guilty for being a creep.
Hiromi Higuruma who, a day later, comes back, waters your plants, and settles for stealing a pair of clean panties to spend the rest of the week jerking off into. He’ll return them washed, right back where he’d found them, the day before you come home. And he'll miss them just as much as he hates himself for doing any of it in the first place.
Hiromi Higuruma who makes you second guess if he really liked you as much as you thought when he starts asking when you’re going on vacation next. It’s not that he doesn’t miss you while you’re gone… it’s that he can’t stop kicking himself for not rifling through your drawers to see what sex toys you use on yourself. 
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Dating Co-Worker Hiromi Higuruma HCs
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sordidmusings · 7 months
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Age Gap (Buggy x Reader)
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A/N: for @soft-mafia since she wanted more age gap Buggy! Mostly bulleted like a headcanon but has two little drabbles sprinkled in cuz I couldn't help myself. I will be posting a continuation of this actually writing out the scene mentioned at the end, but I wanted to get this out now.
Word count: ~2.6 k
Warnings: obviously an age gap but the younger one is mentioned to be in their 20s, fem!reader, NSFW mentioned at the end, alcohol consumption, probably (hopefully) silly humor, the touch starved shows hardcore for a second there, tried my best to get Buggy right but you know how it be especially because he exists as an amalgam of LA and anime Buggy in my brain
Now come get y'all dopamine
I imagine you joined Buggy’s crew largely looking for that found family goodness then found out how much you’d never been taken care of and how much you craved it
One day while going through the different acts you were learning from the crew trying to find what stuck, you took a decent fall. Not the kind that breaks bones, but the kind where you just gotta lay there a sec and recalibrate how you got to this point
After some laughter (I mean come on it is a crew curated by Buggy and they could tell it wasn’t serious), the nearby crew surrounded you to check on you. While you were breathlessly saying you’re fine from your position on the floor, they parted to reveal the Captain coming to your side:
Buggy bent down to loom over you. The shadow he cast over your face was a welcome break from the bright overhead lights. You just wished that the way they haloed him didn’t make it so hard to see the laughter on his face.
“Good form! I think we could just throw you around to see you flail like that as your act - you’d be our finest comedy routine.” His voice was thick with sarcasm and giggles. However, his detached arms were gentle when they lifted you from the floor. They changed to posing outstretched with his hands on your shoulders and he walked into them to reattach. He looked you up and down before circling around you, all the while his hands were nudging you this way and that for his inspection. Once he was back at your front, he changed to brushing some dirt from your arms and shoulders. You didn’t speak for fear of interrupting this attention you were receiving from him.  He seemed to suddenly snap to clarity anyway.
“RIGHT.” Vocal control? Who is she? Buggy doesn’t know her. “So either get better at what you’re doing or actually fall on purpose. Wouldn’t want you fucking up that money maker.” He was already walking away when one detached hand gave your cheek two brisk pats and he made himself scarce.
It was obvious to you and everyone else how much you ate up his attention. The soft look you were still giving the direction he went in was damn near sickening. It was then you understood your purpose here - becoming Buggy’s spoiled lapdog.
Luckily for you, that was also the moment Buggy realized how his body buzzed when he touched you and how he lit up when you looked up at him with pretty, wide eyes. 
Unluckily, he also decided that being near you would lead down a dangerous route of him needing more and more of you and he was positive that he was just being some old creep over a pretty little thing like you.
This led to a game where Buggy would try to keep you at arm’s length while he battled both his own desire to be around you and your seemingly supernatural ability to just appear next to him at all times.
He wasn’t great at the arms distance thing even when he thought he was nailing it because nailing it to him was being in his natural space as the center of attention and only checking (immediately and desperately) that you were watching and approving of whatever he was doing. The way his head would always snap to you for your reaction was neither subtle nor discouraging to your rapidly growing infatuation.
You decided that orbiting his personal space wasn’t working well enough. Sure, he’d give you a hit of what you wanted with some fleeting touches and mostly disguised compliments but you needed more. Hurting yourself intentionally so that he would take care of you didn’t seem like a sustainable option, so you settled on playing his own game. Time to practice owning a room.
This could be a dangerous game to play. You were certain that blatantly taking the spotlight would just make him upset with you not that you’d mind him taking that out on you. You settled on more subtle things like spreading your attention more through the crew instead of mostly on him, being more focused and daring in your training, participating more in the many games that broke out when the alcohol did, and dressing a bit more intentionally (whether that’s flashier colors, eye-catching accessories, bold makeup, new or intricate hairstyles, etc.) 
The boldest card you played was feeding more into any of the flirting you received.
He has a freak show, yes, but have you ever seen how fine circus performers are?? Full fun costumes are It and also the tasks they have to perform either help them get conventionally attractive bodies and/or the rizz that comes with performing feats (just look at the traction Fryboy has gained with women like damn why he kinda-). Due to that, you’re around attractive people all the time.
While the flirting is for the purpose of pushing Buggy’s buttons, you must admit that it wasn’t a hard habit to keep up and may help inflate your ego.
Your attempts have mixed results. Buggy’s desire to claim you grew but so did his insecurity
In his mind, you look more natural next to one of the younger lookers in his crew while he’s certain the pair of you must look ridiculous together. It’s this very insecurity that’s gonna make it necessary for you to bluntly and shamelessly throw yourself at him both repeatedly and with no room for questions:
You have no clue what else you can do to get through that thick skull of his. You’re on your knees, quite literally at that. You figured that kneeling in front of that circus throne while he’s laid himself all over it would be enough to break the man. Enough to break any man, really, but he’s still finding ways to deflect you.
Buggy nodded his head to a nearby open seat. “You know they made chairs to be comfortable and your dumb ass is on the floor. That drunk already?” he snorted. Maybe choosing to do this during one of the many celebrations (you think this one is for one week of no one pregaming for show runs. ironic.) was a bad idea. You had been banking on some drinks loosening up whatever was holding him back.  It always made you snicker when you entertained the idea of it being from a sense of propriety. Checking in on the situation, you could see how all the chaos going on around you two made it easier for him to keep his eyes off of you and his ears unfocused. Earlier, you had counted it as a plus that working up a buzz would help you bulldoze through his stubbornness. You had forgotten that any alcohol in your system would make for the perfect excuse for him to write you off.
“I’ve barely started my third drink,” you started with a pout, “and I’d be ashamed if that’s enough to get me drunk after all the time spent on your crew.”
“Then you are just being stupid.”
You huffed and rolled your eyes. Okay. Attention didn’t work. Compliments didn’t work. Kneeling didn’t work. Time for some big guns.
You shifted to the side so you’d be sitting towards your left hip with your bent legs beside you. Your drink found its way to your right hand but, most importantly, your chin found its way onto Buggy’s left knee. It brought you so close to where you’d really like to put yourself to work, and, man, was the temptation strong with the way his right leg was slung over the armrest of his seat. How did he expect you to stay away when he was serving himself up on a platter like this?
Buggy was definitely giving you his undivided attention now. His gaze was dark and slightly accusatory. The lighting matched with his makeup made him look more dangerous than usual. The nerves it sent through you might have had you back right off. Instead you held your ground because you saw his pulse hammer against his neck. You saw his throat bob as he swallowed. You saw his pink tongue contrast with red as he licked his lips and gave a shaky exhale.
While you were starting to settle into your bold move, Buggy was becoming more and more antsy. His grip on his glass became white-knuckled under his gloves, and he tried to give himself time to think by taking a huge gulp of his drink. Why did you have to look at him like that? So pleading? The angle from his lap made your lashes darken your eyes and it was impossible for him to keep the image of your hooded gaze about a foot closer to him out of his head. What did you want from him? You’d denied his accusations about money or intel so what the fuck could it be? Was this a game? Get in the pants of the Captain for preferential treatment and go back to whoever else you had in your palm on the crew to laugh about him falling for it?
You noticed his mood turning sour so you decided to interrupt whatever was tumbling around his head. “I think I could get much more comfy right here.” To prove a point, you dragged your chin to his inner thigh, right above his knee, and snuggled your cheek into his leg. His pants weren’t the softest against your skin but he was so addictingly warm through them. Your eyes briefly fluttered shut to enjoy the sensation before you looked back up at him and flirtatiously said, “I’m comfiest next to you.”
His hands itched with the need to grab you by the hair and force your face right where he needed you. Instead he scoffed at you. “Suuuuure. And why’s that, princess?”
“You make me smile,” you admitted immediately. His startled gaze met your lovesick one and you realized what you said and how quickly you said it. Too close to emotionally vulnerable; time to backtrack a touch. You want to get the role as his trophy before you even attempt to approach the title of Love of His Life. “You also said that you take care of your crew and I’m on your crew, right? So you’ll take care of me.”
The cheeky smile you spoke through melted him. An achingly deep sigh left him while his right hand detached from the arm to deposit his drink on the floor next to you. Quickly, it flew back to its limb. Both of your hearts pumped fire through your chests as he reached that hand out towards you. Buggy took his time stroking his fingers from your forehead into your hair. When his palm came down to join the gesture, you were very happy to realize that his hand was just as warm as the thigh still under your cheek. You shuffled closer so your legs squeezed in between his foot and the left leg of his throne. Buggy shuddered when he felt your fingertips graze the back of his calf and spread out like a star so you could grab it. Using your new grip, you snuggled more firmly into his leg and let yourself buzz off of getting this new touch from your Captain.
Ulterior motives be damned, Buggy couldn’t give them any credence when you looked so happy to sit at his feet and receive such a simple touch. He should probably laugh and call you a needy puppy to regain some control over the situation. Instead, he slipped his hand down the side of your head.  He massaged his fingertips into the base of your skull and said, “I’ll take care of you, little star.”
Once he has accepted that you’re serious there will be jokes about the dynamic but do not be fooled - he can only dish it out and WILL spiral if he receives any type of comment about how much older he is (the word geriatric is punishable by death)
Sometimes the joke is him patronizingly treating you like a child (you almost socked him right there at the dinner table when some food came at your face with accompanying airplane noises)
Sometimes it’s calling you a gold digger (“then where’s my allowance, huh?” “OH so my gIFTS AREN’T ENOUGH FOR YOU NOW? YOU were the one ACTUALLY CRYING over me buying you that wonky ass stuffed seal with the lopsided face!!” “HIS NAME IS JERRY AND YOU WILL SHOW HIM SOME RESPECT”)
Sometimes it���s just dumb shit like pointing at the type of girl’s clothing store that has made a contract with God to own all the pinks and pastels the world has to offer before turning to you straight faced and asking if you want to stop in to look. Any way this man can think to goof, he will.
And it’s tooooootally a coping mechanism to process the fact that he’s nearly forty and dating a twenty-something and not at all because joking around with you has become one of his basic survival needs
The dynamic ends up helping both of y’all feel special - you have a hot, boisterous, spotlight-stealing pirate captain pampering (and then making a mess of) you while he gets a beautiful, capable, eye-catching young thing looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky
Nothing goes to Buggy’s head more than when you walk into a room full of people, attractive ones especially, and only see him.
He loves anything that makes it obvious to others that you are his, whether that's him draped over you, you draped over him, red stains on the back of your hands, your shoulders, your cheeks, your forehead, your neck, having his jolly roger on your outfit, having you in his hat or coat
This very much extends to him wanting anyone and everyone to overhear you in the bedroom. Everyone should know you're his and he's the only one who can make you feel so good
Don't worry, they'll also get the message that he's yours from all the moaning and praises
He gives you endless pet names but always comes back to “sweet stuff”, “sweets”, “princess”, “star”, “prima donna” (affectionate), “prima donna” (derogatory), and anything preceded by “little” (“little showstopper”, “little tease”, very rarely “little girl” if he feels especially like exerting power over you)
He prides himself on making you feel cared for and safe. Instead of feeling like a chore he has to do because he’s in the ‘older man’ role, he loves the way you preen under his attention and how you happily return the favor.
When in the Cross Guild Era, Buggy started going to all meetings with you by his side then on his thigh. It was a good defensive strategy because the other two seemed more hesitant to throttle him if you were in the way, but lets be real this man is also clingy and loves showing you off too.
At first he found it offensive that Mihawk and Croc were so disbelieving at the sight of you happily perched on your captain’s lap but then it made him the smuggest motherfucker when he would see their eyes trail over you knowing that they can only look and he can touch however he wants. This leads to him pushing until he hit your boundary at leaving very visible marks on you
One time he fucked you stupid right before a meeting so that you wouldn’t think about the bite mark surrounded by red makeup that kept playing peekaboo with your shirt collar (or the red smears between your thighs that showed whenever you shifted your legs)
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lovelybluebirdie · 4 months
Text
A sight to behold
Astarion x gn!Reader
Summary: Astarion is far more than his beauty, and you want him to know.
Word Count: 1,7k
fluff, comfort
[AO3]
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“You should get some rest, love,” Astarion whispers against your hair. He holds you comfortably in his arms, your fingers loosely grasping the end of his collar while his hand strokes along your waist, caressing your battle-bruised skin. 
Usually sleep didn’t take long to claim you after an exhausting day of defeating vigorous creatures or learning another disturbing fact on the tadpole inside your brain, but tonight it seems to avoid you for some reason, leaving you tossing and turning within your bedroll until Astarion eventually pulled you into a loving embrace.
“I’m good,” you mutter as a deep yawn escapes your throat, smothering your last syllables.
Astarion cups your chin between his thumb and index finger, surveying your face. “You’re a weary little love if I ever saw one.” 
“Fine, you’ve got me,” you reply in a drowsy voice. “Maybe I am a little tired, but somehow I can't find any sleep.”
His brow furrows. “Is anything troubling you, my dear?” he asks sincerely, pondering if he might’ve done something wrong.
The unpleasant thought has no room to spread its hooks any further, as he's met with only fondness from your tired eyes, leaving his ribcage bursting with adoration.
“No need to worry about me, Astarion. I promise, everything’s alright,” you assure as you begin to massage his ears, causing them to twitch.
“You still need to get some sleep though,” he scolds with half-closed lids. It's more of a moan, as he’s unable to suppress his desire for your blissful fingers to go on. You seem to know exactly where he enjoys them most, he notices, when another quiet groan spills from his lips. 
You brush the pointy tip of his ear once more, cautiously not to overstimulate this sensitive part of him, before you rest your fingers on his neck and playfully raise an eyebrow.
“Perhaps you’ll allow me to indulge in your beauty a little longer before I find myself dozing off.”
A benign remark, and yet something inside Astarion shifts. Something he can’t fully fathom at first, a faint sense of melancholy starting to linger, despite the comfort of your touch.
He’s been called beautiful more times than he can remember, but he’ll never be able to judge for himself, being robbed of his reflection since Cazador turned him into a vampire spawn centuries ago – his own appearance remaining a dark shape from his past.
“Beauty you say?” he mumbles quietly. “Tell me then, what is it you see when looking at me?”
Your expression softens as you grasp for his hand and squeeze it lightly. It seems you’ve already caught his musings, as you often do, without him needing to vocalise that something’s on his mind.
“Well, your most outstanding features are probably your piercing eyes – crimson, like rubies,” you explain before resting a kiss on his cheek. 
Astarion listens attentively. His gaze must indeed be exceptionally sharp, he thinks, trying for a brief moment to recall the colour his eyes were before he was turned, but to no avail. A shiver runs down his spine as he wonders if you might think of him as a dangerous predator at times, uncertain whether this poses a pleasant or a frightening notion.
“Sometimes they’re full of anger, resembling freshly shed blood. And other times they’re… so soft. Reminding me of the cutest puppy eyes I’ve ever seen, almost competing with Scratch,” you giggle as you draw your thumb along his cheekbone, right where your lips parted from his skin.
Astarion stares at you in bewilderment. “What do you mean – puppy eyes?! I’m a century-old vampire spawn, not some gushing maiden.”
“You asked what I’d see when I’m looking at you, didn’t you?” You offer him a mischievous grin before blowing a strand of hair off his forehead. “Or do you prefer me to stop?” 
Astarion rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh. “Fine, go on.” 
Although not particularly delighted by the comparison you draw, he can’t resist the urge to listen to you further describing him.
“There are also your beautiful white curls – so smooth that I often find myself wondering which soap you use for them to stay that way,” you say as you take one of said strands between your fingers. “Come to think of it, those are probably one of my favourite parts of you, my love.”
“Mhm, I certainly have the best hair in camp,” Astarion purrs approvingly, a smug grin playing around his lips, vanishing the furrow on his brow from your previous remark.
“Don’t let Shadowheart hear,” you joke before continuing. “Of course I also adore your smile – seeing those little wrinkles when you laugh.”
Astarion’s grin freezes as he quickly feels the spot beneath his temples.
“My sweet, you surely must’ve noticed by now that one of a vampire spawn’s rare perks is eternal youth, so I’m quite positive that there are no such things as wrinkles on my face.”
“If you say so,” you chuckle as you reach for his hands to press loving kisses on his fingertips. “This was supposed to be a compliment, you know.”
“Perhaps if I wasn’t your lover, but your doting grandmother,” he grumbles with pursed lips, but doesn’t pull away. 
“I sense you desire to listen to some of your less grandmotherly features, then?”
Astarion battles another grin but loses, his lips twisting to a wry smile. “Yes, please.” 
It's true, he doesn’t want you to stop, secretly enjoying how sincere you express your sentiments.
“Let’s see if I find some, though…” you tease, earning a gentle nudge to your hip before your eyes are glued to his face again. “Honestly, you're stunningly beautiful, Astarion – a goddamn sight to behold.” 
Astarion’s smile widens at your flattery. “Oh dear, that sounds far better than being described with the attributes of an old lady.”
“As I thought,” you reply, brushing one of his curls behind his ear. “But do you want to know what I adore about you most?”
Astarion's eyes grow round. “As humble as I am, I'm always thrilled to receive some more praise.”
He notices a flush to your cheeks as you let your finger slowly trace along the bridge of his nose, until it comes to a rest on his lips. 
You clear your throat, seeming in search of the right words. 
“You’re so much more than your beauty,” you begin, your fingertip still resting on his bottom lip. He presses a kiss, his curiosity roused.
“I love the way you make me laugh, like no one else can, despite all the madness we have to endure. Or watching you reading for hours, chuckling at little passages you like. Seeing how you squint when you take in the details while you embroider a piece of fabric.” 
You pause to cup his face in your hands and smother him with gentle kisses, starting at his jaw, moving up to his nose and then his eyes. Astarion remains silent, graciously relishing your warmth. 
Your words and touch are like a balm, and not for the first time he wonders how he came to deserve such kindness.
“Your skin is cold, yes, but no one has ever kept me this warm when being in their presence. You’re brave, and despite everything you had to endure, you turned into this wonderful man I came to love more than everything I ever held dear. You're most precious to me Astarion, and I never want to spend a day without knowing you by my side.”
It’s not often that Astarion finds himself speechless, and yet your genuine affection robs him of the ability to respond. He has to hold back tears that dwell behind his fluttering lashes.
Deprived of his ability to speak he can only press a kiss to your forehead, followed by another peck to the tip of your nose, before his lips crash into yours – hastily, in need of you.
Astarion can sense your pulse quickening as his tongue enters your mouth, a soft moan escaping your lips while your hand runs through his hair. 
He gently bites your lower lip, the initial rush of his kiss replaced by a sudden tenderness, a flutter spreading right where his dead heart once beat.
Astarion has never felt like this with anyone but you. Perhaps you've turned him into a love-struck maiden after all, he thinks with a smile as he kisses you once more, gentle and soft, before your lips part and he glances at your endearing eyes, finding his voice again.
“I love you too, you cheeky little thing. Even if you have the guts to describe me like a grandmother first, and then almost make me weep from your loving words,” he chuckles while grasping the fabric of your nightgown to pull you closer against his body.
Astarion is used to conceal his emotions behind his jesting shell, and yet when he’s with you, his façade naturally crumbles.
“Guilty as charged,” you reply fondly.
“But honestly… Thank you,” Astarion speaks softly. “For seeing me, like no one else does.” His words come out raw, honest. “You know I don't pray to any of the gods, but if I did, I'm sure I would've caught myself thanking them for bringing you into my life. You're a vision, and through the time I spend with you, it almost feels like my dead heart starts beating again.”
“You’d better stop with that loving talk yourself, before we'll both start to weep,” you laugh as you reach for the corner of your eye, a single wet streak glistening on your skin.
Astarion moves up to kiss it away. “As much as I like to revel in our mutual affection, I don't wish to see more of your tears.”
“Well, perhaps we should call it a night then. I’m certain I’ll find some rest soon,” you whisper as you shift closer in the crook of his arm. 
“You truly should, as I'm positive there’ll be more shenanigans awaiting us tomorrow,” Astarion replies and places a kiss on your hair. “Sleep well, my love.”
“You too, Astarion,” you hum, sounding slightly weary again. Maybe sleep has decided in your favour after all, he thinks as he notices your breath becoming more even.
When you finally doze off in the safety of his embrace, Astarion's chest is filled with warmth over the love he holds for you.
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xiao-come-home · 1 month
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Here's a Boothill thought: if his lover ever cheers him on during a fight, he gets super pumped and starts showing off. A lot.
Heck, it's not even an intense battle anymore. You're watching some poor guy getting tossed around like a cartoon character while Boothill makes a show for you.
YES ABSOLUTELY!!
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If Boothill notices you're watching him fight, duh! Cheering on him, even - he feels his body getting filled with adrenaline, and boy, he does deliver you a show you deserve!
Once the angelic voice of yours reaches his ears, Boothill wastes no time - he readjusts his hat and takes the grass blade out of his mouth, fully spreading his arms before turning around to look you in the eyes, "watch me closely, sweet pea!" A pistol emerges from his left arm, "Don't ya dare take those pretty eyes off of me!"
And well, you can't even take your eyes off of him, because watching that poor dude getting absolutely demolished by Boothill almost makes you feel bad. Except the cowboy doesn't even feel tired, even if the battle took hours already, no - it's barely the beginning.
And he shows. Off. SO. Much. He's kicking them so hard they end up flying, and before they even have a chance to see the floor again, Boothill's lips part from yours, a familiar shade of red flashes in his eyes and poof! He's back to beating them up again, flashing probably the juiciest poses the aeons have seen.
The more impressed you are, the more joy he feels - except at this point, it's almost animalistic - he spits out bullets like crazy, occasionally sending you a wink to give your heart a familiar, warm squeeze.
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wield-the-mighty-pen · 7 months
Text
Can we all just think about what this day has been for Adrien?
Imagine you wake up for the day, excited to have your bi-yearly scheduled lunch with your father, only to be told he has canceled on you once again and when you finally get the courage to speak your mind and talk to him, he interrupts you and tells you that you will be moving away from your home and beloved friends (with a person you hate) for an indefinite period of time. Imagine then, that you head to school, where you share a tender moment with someone who is definitely not just a friend and they give you the advice to talk to your father.
You then get home from school, where you are ambushed by your manipulative cousin, who is offering to trade places with you and help you out with your problem, only to discover he is scheming again. Before you can do anything about that, you have to go save the world with your superhero partner, who you've been feeling a little neglected by lately and for some reason, all those negative feelings seem to be manifesting right now during the fight. She then call in some reinforcements, and this new guy, that she keeps fawning over is giving you bad vibes (it's definitely not just jealously guys).
You save the day and head home, this time with the intent of actually confronting your father, only to be stopped by your superhero partner, who for some reason is looking for your civilian counterpart. She claims that she handed you a miraculous and you very quickly realize that your scheming and manipulative cousin, was scheming and manipulative.
You watch as your partner has a panic attack and do your best to calm her down and help her retain some miraculous. You hear her muffled cries through the door and when you go to check on her, she's gone. You find out that the villain you fight has got a hold of the miraculous and you go to find your partner.
You find her and manager to comfort her, all the while sharing a not-at-all platonic moment with her, and you prepare to fight the villain who has re-monikered himself and given himself new powers.
You see the rabbit miraculous and what looks like a future version of yourself show up and you realize that you will have to go through time in a time battle to reclaim the rabbit miraculous. You are given a rabbit miraculous to use and your very concept of space and time are altered as a result. After a lengthy, convoluted battle, you say goodbye to a good friend and decide to head to London to interrogate your aunt. The interrogation leading nowhere, you decide to head home only to be immediately called by your partner asking you to head to the wax museum and pose like a statue (which totally brings back some memories for you...). You finally get rid of that piece of paper in your bell and manage to capture the villain who you've been fighting for so long.
Except, the plan fails. The villain manages to get away with all of the Kwamis and now you have a weight on your conscious. You have just used against a person the power you vowed to use only for good. You are reminded of the significant power that you wield.
You once more arrive home and turn on the TV to try and distract yourself. Only to see that there's once more a problem that needs your help. You get there and see two people who have similar powers to you and your partner, but there's something wrong. Your partner asserts that they aren't akumatized, but you are wary. You learn that they are a version of you from a different universe, or at least a version of your power. You once more, are reminded the of ultimate destruction you have at your fingertips.
You come to understand that these doubles are in fact your partner and yourself from another universe. A universe, where the villain you are fighting is now your ally. Once assuring your friends are safe, you go after your double to fight them. When you meet to speak to them person to person and talk through your shared trauma. You learn that he too lost his precious mother, but he has no one to help him through it. You relive that loss together. You talk him down from making the wish that a part of you wants to make every single day. You begin to realize the version of you isn't bad, he's just hurting.
After ensuring the safety of other universes and giving a hopeful send of to your doubles, you finally, finally this time head home for the night.
Surveying around your room, you are reminded of the morning that feels like forever ago. You remember what your cousin said, what your good friend said. Emboldened by her words, you decide it's time to face your father. You go to his office where he's working and utter the words you never thought you would: I don't want to be a model anymore
Your father passively assents to this, and finally finally you are free.
You are filled with gratitude and this odd warmth that you don't spend too much time analyzing. You need to do something to thank the person who's advice got you what you so desperately wanted. You decide to call her up and thank her face-to-face.
You call her on the phone, which gets answered by her best friend, and then finally her and you give her your most sincere expression of gratitude, thanking her for everything she has done for you this past year.
As the warmth inside of your chest grows, you tell her you will do your best to pay it. You end the phone call with a smile on your face and a happy sigh.
Finally, with thoughts of your dear friend roaming around your mind, you fall asleep exhausted but happy.
This was all one day.
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satoruhour · 8 months
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omg I’d love to hear more about baby fever + gojo 🥹 just watching him match a babies babbles like he can actually understand them is killing me!!
a/n: omg stop anon this is so CUTE?? and ik i posted like three things today but posts will be slower this week since i still have work to do technically even if i have a school break ! / one sex joke lol
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gojo always had a knack for caregiving — whether it was defending yuta against the higher-ups and advocating for yuji’s life (even if it had to be delayed) and making sure that one kid had gotten home safely after getting trapped in an abandoned home. but you realised you’ve never really seen your boyfriend around babies. it wasn’t a good idea in the first place, to mix babies and sorcerers — part of why nanami had waited so long before starting a family with his partner, or how utahime turned in her resignation for good after getting pregnant.
but now that you’re past terrible things in the world like sukuna and kenjaku and you both have properly buried your best friend’s body, you’re looking ahead to better things. you’re not too keen on kids, but you do sometimes spiral into what your kid with satoru would look like, probably taking the bulk of his features while some of yours are fighting to take first place. that sentiment is changed more and more when you see how gojo interacts with kids.
it’s when nanami first invites everyone to their (long overdue) baby shower, only wanting to introduce his partner and kid only a year after they’ve been safe. nanami is the happiest he’s ever been but so is gojo, dancing so foolishly in front of the kid to get her to like him that all she does is scrunch her face and hide back in her mother’s neck (“yeah, that’s nanami’s kid alright.”). soon, she’s let go to interact with the students, playing around with megumi’s dogs, running around the house from yuji and inumaki, doing silly battle poses with the girls. her laughter is like beauty to all the grown-ups in the room, something meant to be protected and cherished.
gojo tries to win her back, sitting on the floor so his height wouldn’t be too imposing and she almost runs into him. his infinity stops her and her head cocks to the side in confusion — she continues to run into gojo’s shield again and again, giggles at being constantly pushed back with a silly sound gojo makes with his mouth; it convinces her enough that she’s running into a bubble of some jelly. 
it’s some time later where you’re mingling with nanami’s partner, talking to shoko and utahime while your boyfriend chats with nanami (weirdly normal, you note) about everything. but you’re broken out of conversation when you hear gojo quietly squeal to his junior who only sighs. it’s all a facade; you know he’s actually glad his daughter succumbs to gojo’s charms soon enough, letting him carry the small toddler who’s already oh so tired from the day. she melts into satoru’s arms, mumbling something incoherent that he replies just as incoherently and bounces.
satoru strokes her hair, speaking in a hushed tone now, something that rarely happens in your home and it convinces nanami just a little to make him her godfather. he’s still considering it.
the next time it happens is when he meets utahime’s baby boy for the first time, coming over to provide some gifts and to just see your old friends. it’s a little hilarious how the first two people to have children are the people who are not particularly fond of gojo but both nanami and utahime are surprisingly tame when it comes to the strongest handling their kid. she’s giving him her baby carefully with a clear threat behind her eyes but he knows not to fuck anything up. the baby is clueless enough to not know who he was even being handed to, babbling mindlessly while drool leaves his mouth.
“babba boo-boo,” it’s gibberish, but satoru matches it perfectly, making stupid sounds back at the baby that you can’t help but grin. “wahbaba boo!” gojo continues to coo and mumble insults with a pointed finger to hime, “your mom is too uptight, can you tell her to calm down a little?” which gets a little hey! from the retired sorcerer and the baby attempts to copy his pointing. “mambama!” utahime’s and her partner’s soft gasp is all you need to know that they haven’t heard their baby call any of them, yet.
the baby continues his babbles and blows a raspberry, face lighting up at the bubbles he manages to make with saliva and gojo just has to laugh at how easily entertained children are. you’re stood there, heart melting with the gentleness in which he treats kids, because once the little one is handed back to utahime and you’re saying your goodbyes, you can’t even look at your lover without feeling lightheaded.
“you’re good with kids, y’know.” you’re saying as you remove your coat while satoru toes off his shoes in your home, your shared space. it feels unreal.
gojo pfts, “of course, baby!” he does a cute pose with thumb pointing toward him, “i’m just that good at everything.”
you laugh, “’course you are…” pulling him down, you have to kiss him or else you’d be overflowing with all the love you have for him and it’ll spill everywhere. gojo eases you into the kiss, humming and sighing in contentment.
“i’m just wondering…” you mumble, a little nervous. you’ve never thought of kids that much even but you think it might be due time even if you didn’t have a ring on your finger. “if you ever thought of having a kid with me?”
satoru’s face softens and you can hear his smile, “of course i do, princess. every time.” his voice is soft when he says it and the way it flips your heart makes you dizzy. “but only when you’re ready. and only when i’ve put a big fat rock on your fourth, although if you’re interested in a shotgun…”
you have to shoot him the finger before you’re nodding to yourself just to remind that everything depends on you. even if it takes 5, 10 years, or even if you didn’t want any children at all, gojo is enamoured with you too much to let it be a dealbreaker.
“i want it… soon.” gojo laughs softly at that, taking you into his arms right at your doorstep and kisses you deeply once again. you brace yourself against his toned chest, clutching at his coat with tippy toes. in classic gojo satoru fashion, he has to pull away to make a dirty joke.
“i’m surprised that you aren’t knocked up already with how much i c—”
“gojo satoru. if you finish that sentence—!”
“—um in you…”
you pull a face, resorting to smacking him on the arm and he surrenders with loud laughter and an apology filled with pecks and kisses. standing at the doorway, you’d never think it would happen so soon.
two months later, satoru is getting down on one knee and asking you to marry him.
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help-the-horse · 1 year
Text
TF2 Backstab Models and What They Mean for the Mercs
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In my travels in the TF2 meta, I've noticed that when using an Australium or ice themed weapon, such as the Spy-cicle, each Merc has a few different models for their "frozen backstab" pose. I thought this was interesting and decided to take it upon myself to document the different models and extrapolate what that might mean for each merc as a character. Keep in mind the "canon" of TF2 and the characterization of the mercs is very much up to interpretation but I think this can give us some insight at least into what Valve thinks of each character and how they react to injury, particularly the backstab.
Let's get into it.
SCOUT
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Scout with his quicker speed assumedly has a faster reaction time compared to a lot of the other mercs, so it tracks that in many of his poses he is almost completely turned around/facing back. I don't think he necessarily expects to be back stabbed but his fast reflexes makes it so that he is one of the mercs who is closer to actually catching the Spy before the stab. Clearly he isn't always fast enough if he gets stabbed though. On a side note I personally find his poses to be some of the most unnerving ones.
SOLDIER
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Clearly Soldier's slow speed catches up with him when it comes to backstabs. Being one of the slower classes in the game, and one of the more burly/stocky characters, it makes sense that he would have trouble catching a Spy before a stab. In a few poses you can see that he reaches behind himself, but you never see him trying to turn his torso or head around to catch his attacker. It's also interesting to note how he reaches to his lower back, either because of how he holds his rocket launcher on his shoulder, or because of his lack of physical flexibility,
PYRO
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Pyro's poses are all rather similar, so I don't find that I have much to say about them. Given what little we do know of Pyro, it's reasonable to assume that they probably don't notice Spy's through their pyro-vision very well, so it would make sense that they wouldn't be prepared for a backstab. They also don't need a particularly fast reaction time for their weapon/attack style so they don't show the same reflexes as Scout or Demo. Pyro just be silly with their pose.
DEMOMAN
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Demo is very dramatic to say the least. I find it very interesting how he seems to be very close to actually grabbing the knife/Spy relative to some of the other mercs like Solly, Medic, or Pyro. This supports my personal theory that Demo plays up his drunkenness on the battle field/in general. He clearly has a good degree of flexibility as well looking at the curve of his spine, and a reasonable amount of balance shown by his repeated "one toe on the ground" style stance.
HEAVY
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Unfortunately I wasn't able to get many screencaps of Heavy, but all his poses are essentially this with little variance. He is probably one of the least flexible out of all the mercs, which makes sense given his body type and how built up his shoulder/back muscles must be from carrying a 300 lbs gun around all the time every day. You can see that he probably doesn't expect a backstab and has a slower reaction time than others, which is in line with his in game movement speed.
ENGINEER
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This man really just always be on his knees. I would assume that this is due to the fact that most of the time you would see an Engie crouching behind a sentry or dispenser, in game and in the character sense. It also reinforces Valve's mocking of his VERY NORMAL AND AVERAGE height. I also like to think Spy kicks his knees out from behind as he stabs. The models also tend to have effed up hands for Engie for some reason which I find very funny. Arguably his right hand tends to be the more messed up one, which is also his mechanical hand/Gunslinger. Food for thought, perhaps a mechanical malfunction/short when he dies?
MEDIC
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Medic's poses are all very similar as well unfortunately. What stands out to me the most is how INCREDIBLY TALL Medic is compared to all the other mercs. You can see that he also doesn't work to turn around or even reach behind him to any large degree, which I think shows how unexpected a backstab is for Medic. He's usually busy chasing some screaming Scout or hiding behind a corner to pocket a Heavy so it would make sense he wouldn't expect a backstab as he usually has some power class with him to protect him. We stand with our Medic's though, no hate only love. Stay strong Medic army.
SNIPER
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Sniper is the most interesting to examine for me, as he and Spy tend to have a rivalry in every sense, from the Spy v. Sniper update/event released by Valve way back when, to in game play, to in the comics/canon media we have of the mercs. It's clear he is the most prepared for a back stab most of the time, and arguably the closest to actually stopping Spy. I think he generally has an average reaction time if the in game movement speed is anything to go off of, but the fact he is so close to stopping the attack just shows how used to the backstab he is. He also has a higher degree of flexibility on par with Scout and Demo.
SPY
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And finally, we come to the man of the hour. The tl;dr is he's a drama queen who's holier than thou attitude and cockiness causes him to not expect or prepare for another Spy's backstab, which ends up being his ultimate downfall. The long version of it is that he is a drama queen who's holier than thou attitude and cockiness causes him to not expect or prepare for another Spy's backstab, which makes him a little bitch boy who's pride gets hurt more than the actual pain of the stab. All of his poses are pretty similar, showing he has a good amount of flexibility but a piss poor reaction speed if he's able to get beat at his own game.
ANYWAY, if you've made it this far in the post thank you very much for reading it all and indulging my TF2 brain rot. I have no idea if any of this deeper reading was intended by the devs or Valve, but I think it's interesting to explore what little we get in regards to any hints about the mercs as characters and what they might be like on and off the battle field in a story sense. Would love to have more discussion in the comments and if anyone has any other niche requests for me to overanalyze TF2 game play/lore please let me know and I'm sure I will find more than expected to talk about.
Stay strong TF2 fans.
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pigdemonart · 1 year
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Battle Subway Depot Agents (by pig-demon)
When I made designs for these guys last year I didn’t really think they needed colored references/master post, but since then I’ve drawn them a lot! Also people have added them to their fanfics and drawn fanart! So I figured it was time I made a post for easy ref. :]
These designs are obviously free to use, just give credit (and link me your work if you're comfortable, because it makes me happy to see!) All I request is to stay respectful to their pronouns and skin colors, ya knooow… 👍 note: The pokemon on their cards are all companions, not the ones they use on the Battle Subway. Except Jackie...the litwicks are just there to fill space/give them company.
More info under cut:
Edit: Important disclaimer:
These are again my designs/interpretations for the agents. Please don’t treat them as canon or as the only, quintessential designs for these literal background npcs. Many people have done takes on them before and after me, even back in 2010. It feels silly to ask, but due to past experience, I ask that you please DONT hunt down anyone that does a different take on the depot agents!! 👍
Tags:
I'm gonna start tagging them individually, but for now all Depot Agent comics and art on this blog are tagged under Depot Agents.
Height chart:
I’m not too strict about heights, so I don’t really care about actual measurements. Here’s an approximation of what I tend to visualize though:
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Sexualities/Gender Identities: I don't have official labels for each and every agent because I like keeping things fluid for characters to develop these traits on their own. However, as a queer person, I enjoy designing characters who are also queer, therefore I can safely say none of these characters are straight. The ones who are set in stone are Ramses (gay man), Cloud (lesbian woman,) Jackie (non-binary.) Furze uses he/they pronouns but their gender is undetermined. I also welcome anyone giving the agents a different gender identity to suit them (as long as it's done respectfully.)
Notes about each agent...
Cameron:
- Cameron dyes parts of his hair blonde and keeps other parts in black. This is because he is a big fan of Elesa and her fashion choices.  - Though there have been a few occasions to meet his idol, he is always way too nervous to approach her, feeling deep down that he'll mess up somehow. - He practices modeling poses in secret. He loves flourishes and flare, but is simply too insecure to put it on display. - Of his coworkers, he gets along the best with Furze. He's the easiest to talk to because Furze will do most of the talking. - Cameron is easily intimidated — even mean Pokémon can make him nervous. Though, his two worst fears are being left in a room alone with Jackie, and being left alone in a room with Isadore. - He takes advantage of his height to sometimes hide behind some of his coworkers. - Cameron is much better at Pokémon battles than he gives himself credit for. Emmet and Ingo were pleasantly surprised by this, since Cameron was promoted to fit a temporary role on the Battle Subway. They happily made him a permanent member when he proved himself capable. - His Dwebble (Pebby) is secretly very strong, and rushes to protect Cameron when it can. Cam sometimes thinks Pebby helps him feel more confident in himself too.  - If he stumbled into any of his coworkers outside of work, he would simply explode of embarrassment. - He is the youngest child and only son of his family. He lives in his own apartment in Nimbasa.
Cloud:
- Cloud (like Ramses) knew the twins when they were very young. - She used to be an ace trainer in her youth, even going so far to compete in the Pokémon league. Winning and becoming the champ was the most important part of her journey, but something happened along the way that changed that outlook. - It seems with age, her competitiveness has mellowed out. However, she maintains an intense energy when battling.  - Her favorite types are Psychic and Flying types. Swoobat (Sweetie) is her ace.  - Her favorite hobby is baking, and she often bakes sweets for the crew. She knows all their favorite flavors by now! - She prioritizes keeping a friendly relationship with all her coworkers and thinks of them fondly. She considers Ramses family after all the years of working together!  - She is a big fan of Brycen's movies and can recite the lines. - She lives with her wife in Anville. - Cloud loves doing maintenance work both at home and in Gear Station. She enjoys bringing her own tools and industrial flashlight.
Furze:
- Furze only has one volume setting (mid loud,) but he finds himself feeling right at home when talking to either one of the twins. - Furze has ADHD, and this is reflected in some of his habits, most visibly is his fidgeting when sitting still for too long. - He rides a bike to work every day. When he is late, Cloud clocks in for him so he doesn't get in trouble. - This is a kind of a guy that sits crouched gargoyle style on chairs. Only outside of work, of course. Bad posture could get him in trouble. - While working on the Battle Subway, there will be times Furze feels sorry for his opponents and offers to quietly let them pass anyways. This...has also gotten him in trouble. :[ - He went to the same elementary school as Isadore in Castelia. Though Isadore seems to have forgotten their short-lived acquaintance, Furze has not. This is part of the reason Furze claims they are in fact good friends!!! - Furze is the middle child of a big family. He lives with his mom and takes care of her, along with his many Darumakas and Darmanitan. All of his Pokemon have famous trains names. - He collects model trains. Naturally.
Isadore
- Isadore had plans to become the station master the moment he was hired as a depot agent, but alas... (sad trumpet sound.) - As a youth, he was more interested in science and engineering over Pokemon battles. He enjoys the strategizing aspect, at most. Not so much the competitiveness. - In addition, his Pokemon are all rescues and not used for battling. He's had his Watchog (Winston) since he was in his late teens. - His Electrode (Gregor) and Voltorb (Leonard) were rescued from the likes of Team Plasma. - Isadore admits he understands Pokemon better than humans. This has been apparent his whole life. - In spite of acting like a sitcom villain, Isadore cares about the management of Gear Station and the safety of the passengers to an incredible degree. He sees it as a personal life goal to assist in the management of Gear Station, as well as the success of the Battle Subway. - Though it pained him to become a subordinate to the twins, he begrudgingly accepts it for the greater good. - His almost militant efficiency certainly made up for his years of antagonizing the twins before they became the bosses. Ingo and Emmet understand this better than anyone. - Isadore keeps tabs on all of the staff members. So he very well knows all their birthdays and makes it a point to celebrate it. This is by no means a -happy- or -festive- event. It's just customary. - Like Furze, he was originally from Castelia, but now resides in Nimbasa. Isadore's only family is his mom and she lives in his childhood home with their Stoutland. - Isadore would have probably been voiced by every glasses guy ever J. Michael Tatum had he not already been cast as dear Emmet lmao
Jackie
- Jackie is a mystery and they like keeping it that way. When they talk, it's practically impossible to determine what is a lie or truth, especially if the subject is themselves or their background. - They love scaring Cameron the most and will ask to be paired with him whenever possible. They claim Cameron is their "favorite coworker," while Isadore is the least favorite. - It's plain to see why -- Jackie is the only one that doesn't passively tolerate Isadore's tirades. - Though my comics sometimes may allude to Jackie being a ghost/supernatural, this is not confirmed nor canon. I just personally enjoy toying with the concept. : ) That being said...
- Item #: SCP 7453
- Object Class: Euclid
- Special Containment Procedures: The ████ ██████ is ██████ within ████-██████. - Ingo and Emmet choose to not question anything about Jackie, since it's clear they're one of the more efficient workers. However it can be a safety concern... - Cloud and Ramses have worked with Jackie for a long time, though they've forgotten somehow. They believe Jackie is a new hire since they appear to be young. - Anyone trying to make sense of Jackie's employee records simply can't bring themselves to any conclusions. It's better to ignore the inconsistencies. - Jackie has never been seen to leave Gear Station. Jackie has never been seen in anything but their uniform. Jackie has never been confirmed to eat, drink or blink. Jackie knows your secrets. Jackie thinks it's... amusing.
Ramses
- Ramses sometimes misses having a full head of hair, but he thinks his signs of age make him look distinguished. (he is correct.) - Ramses is sort of the "mom friend," making sure everyone's concerns are heard, as well as trying to keep the peace whenever a conflict might arise. - If another coworker is feeling low, Ramses will try to cheer them up with a lighthearted joke or offer advice if they'd like it. - When the twins were promoted to bosses of the Battle Subway, Ramses cried because he felt so proud. - In most circumstances, he is a very simple and logical man. He is quick to find solutions and tries not to fret over the little stuff. It's not good for his heart after all. - His ace is his Pikachu (Musa,) though the mouse is more of a lap pet now. At home, he also has an Audino (Sara) and a Manectric (Nubi) who keep Ramses' husband company. His Klinklang (Moli) is the only one of his personal pokemon that accompany him to work nowadays. - Ramses considers Cloud family. They are best friends and love having family gatherings outside of work. They also gossip a lot, and don't mind when Jackie decides to join. - Ramses jokes about looking forward to retirement, but really doesn't want to leave until he is physically incapable of working anymore. Gear Station is like a second home to him.
In-Game Quotes
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The most important reference of all are their in-game quotes, of course, so I'm adding it to the post. A lot of their personality traits can be extracted and interpreted from these few lines. And I personally love that about Pokemon NPCs -- there's a lot of room to explore and play with. Some appear very obvious. Cameron practically announces that he isn't ready for the battle that's about to ensue and seems genuinely surprised to win. Furze comes out the gate talking about the subject they actually care about, which is their job and their love for trains. The two of them are very easy to understand. Now, Ramses lines allude to a gentle and simple personality. He views himself with humility, and maybe even with a bit of humor comparing himself to a train and to his opponent to a station. If he loses he shows no signs of disappointment, he just accepts defeat with one last honest quip. It s also amusing to see the Depot Agents all use train metaphors to describe themselves since it falls in line with how Ingo and Emmet talk.
In comparison, Cloud does the same thing calling herself the terminal instead. Immediately, she is way more daring, though still keeping a sense of professionalism. To me, it's obvious she is competitive as she even admits she was expecting to win ("Ah...I didn't see it coming.") Jackie's lines are fun since it's up to interpretation if they are being literal or lying. It's almost like they are more interested in confusing/creeping out their opponent than actually beating them. To me, it gives off a mischievous vibe. Isadore's opener "There are only two roads in life." is a curious one because it almost feels like he is trying to be philosophical. Definitely a guy who views himself as an intellectual, regardless if that’s true or not. I like to think it's a saying he really believes in, and it applies to his life. The road he likes (long route) vs the road he hates (shortcut) -- fighting tooth and nail to become boss vs biting his tongue and accepting Ingo and Emmet as the Subway Masters.
Those are just my thoughts on how I write these characters. Please have fun playing with these lines too!
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ozzgin · 8 months
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Also I love your blogs sorry I’ve been spamming 🩷Hii Author, could you do another part for the small prehistoric reader, where she is actually really strong even though she’s small and innocent looking like stronger than Yujiro and Baki but she’s only really like that when she’s in heat. I wonder how the would react Yk 🤔
Sure! It’s been suggested in the comments as well and it does have a fun twist to it. Female characters stronger than the main cast is the one uncanonical construct that I deeply enjoy.
Baki Characters x Prehistoric! Small Reader Headcanons (II)
Featuring the Baki characters and a prehistoric but small sized reader that turns out to be unexpectedly strong.
[Baki Masterlist] [Part I]
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The fighters keep a respectable distance from you in order to assure Pickle of your safety. They’d rather not pose as a threat to his mate, especially after seeing how protective he can get. He always keeps you under his watchful gaze, ready to interfere if you need to make use of his strength. At times he’s particularly anxious around you. Professor Payne has explained in more scientifically appropriate terms that you might be dealing with female specific issues. No one pressed it further.
This peaceful resolve does not sit well with Yuujirou. How very pathetic and boring that everyone concomitantly agreed to mind their own business. He itches for a little bit of action and what better way to rile up the prehistoric warrior than messing with his little protégé? He doesn’t want to risk fighting a half-assed Pickle, he wants the wrath, the readiness to kill. So with arrogant mockery he decides to give you a little nudge in front of everyone. Just a mere push, he does show mercy to weaklings like you. Baki is enraged and the other men join him. Everyone is waiting for Pickle to make his move, though bizarrely enough he just stands there, eyes wise in shock. Yuujirou didn’t expect this lack of reaction.
The Ogre is a man with battle experience and nothing can take him by surprise. It is to be noted, however, that sometimes a trade off for the sake of efficiency has to be made. A rational agent in artificial intelligence may have to take millions of variables into consideration in order to compute the most optimal solution and react to the environment. Realistically speaking, therefore, some less probable events are taken entirely out of the equation. So, for example, the idea that you would attack Yuujirou was not something his body expected to react against. The impact of your small fist was doubled by this element of surprise. His eyes roll back and his large body is thrown at quite the distance, leaving significant damage behind.
There’s a deafening silence that lingers for what seems an eternity. Baki feels a mild discomfort on the walls of his throat and he realizes his mouth has been hanging open for long enough that it almost dried up. Did you…did you just knock his father out with one single hit? He slowly turns his head to the other witnesses, wondering if this is a dream and the others will confirm it. Judging by the equally dumbfounded expressions surrounding him, he suspects fearfully that it is, in fact, something that just happened. Jack feels like he’s been kicked in the crotch. Katsumi is overwhelmed by a certain nostalgia, the nervousness he felt when he was a little child attending the Dojo for the very first time. Retsu purses his lips as a solemn frown creases his features. Tokugawa can feel the beads of sweat gathering in the folds of his wrinkled forehead.
The least impressed of the group is Pickle. Almost as if he expected it to happen, he walks up to you and grabs your shoulders before you can approach Yuujirou’s passed out body. Your face relaxes once again and you look up to him with a genuine smile, as if soothing his worries. You’ll stop here, no worries. You pat his large hands and turn around, prepared to leave the scene.
The frightful question now plagues the fighters within the arena: was Pickle protecting you from them, or has it been the other way round all along?
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reverseexorcist · 3 months
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❥ 𝐋𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ❥
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Man, I support women's rights and all, but women's wrongs is where it's at. Like, I get she's meant to be awful and all, but what if I was her favourite?
➲ Lute + !F!Reader
➲ Romantic ☒, Platonic ☐
➲ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 Count; 1,424 Words
➲ Warnings/notes; Female reader, spoilers for episode 8, mentions and brief depictions of gore, mostly fluff though, my god I wanna write so much more of Lute but my ideas only get so far
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➨ Okay, so first off, this woman is probably stoic as fuck - At least in the beginning of the relationship. Stiff and gruff because to her she's a warrior first and herself second. That's what she's had to be for the longest time ever, and it's gonna take a while for you to coax her out of her battle-hardened shell
➨ The kind've touch starved person that would rather die painfully than ever let someone touch her kind've vibe. Even when you're the exception, it's probably just better to ask before initiating anything just so you don't get socked in the face
➨ (She'll apologise, but probably wouldn't be able to stop because that's just her instinct)
➨ When she warms up to it though, oh boy
➨ "What is this?"
➨ "A hug?"
➨ "Disgusting… Do it again."
➨ (Gladly. Her wings are so soft and fluffy and perfect for hugging)
➨ Her wings will flutter softly, puffing up and getting extra fluffy at your touch as she practically melts into you. She'll deny it every single time, but you know the truth, especially when you hear her walk through the door after a long day at work only to be met with the audible 'poof' from the exorcist as her wings fluff up
➨ Speaking of, Lute takes pride in her wings. Very careful with them outside of battle and all, meticulously cleans and preens them at the beginning and end of every day and is a chronic stomach sleeper because of this. Probably has some expensive feather shampoo or cleaner or whatever that makes them smell like cedar. Whenever she ends up moulting, the floor of your apartment will be covered in black and white feathers
➨ (Don't tell her, but you've kept some of them)
➨ AND THE MUSCLES!
➨ Oh buddy boy does this woman have muscles
➨ Like, yeah, she's the lieutenant of the exorcist army of course she's gonna be buff, but it doesn't mean it's any less hot
➨ (If you're lucky she might let you feel 'em)
➨ Lute is secretly so proud whenever you gawk over her. Will flare her wings and pose for you, but only you and only ever in private. There's no way in heaven or hell that Lute wants Adam on her case about her peacocking around her girlfriend
➨ (You think she's the type to ask you to sit on her back while she's doing push-ups? I do)
➨ She tries her damned hardest to keep you away from Adam. The dude is cool, but she's already worn thin keeping up with his energy and antics. Lute's aware of his antics, especially around women and she'd rather not make you go through that. You are hers, after all. She may be Adam's right hand man (woman), but you're her life partner first and foremost
➨ Can't talk about Lute without mentioning that the WOMAN HAS AN UNDERCUT? Sorry, but women with undercuts are my weakness
➨ Just imagining hugging her, wrapping your arms snuggly around her shoulders as she swaddles you in her broad wings, only to reach up and fluff the fuzz of her undercut
➨ I mean, her hair is probably just as soft as her wings. At least with her hair she'd probably let you comb it or something. Wing touching is something very intimate in heaven, so that probably won't happen for a while
➨ When it does happen however ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
➨ Nah, just kidding. Wings are sensitive, but, y'know, you probably already know this because everyone in heaven has wings. It'll probably just be you preening each other as you both devolve into flustered puddles
➨ Love language is probably something alone the lines of acts of service (giving and receiving) or words of affirmation (receiving).
➨ Likes hugs and kisses are cool and all and she'll probably never say no (unless it's in public), but getting told by you that you find her laugh adorable or that her wings look awesome or something like that (or even something even sappier), my god her brain with blue screen of death before you snap her out of it
➨ It honestly makes her so happy. I mean, no one else really compliments her like that. Sure, she and Adam hype each other up, and her subordinates respect her. But Adam's humour is far from clean and she gets the feeling the other exorcists are kind've scared of her
➨ After a few years and just settling into the relationship, it gets to a point where Lute realises she probably wants to spend the rest of her life (unlife? Afterlife? Does it count if she never died?) with you
➨ If you're just a regular citizen of heaven (i.e. someone Lute can't tell about the exterminations), she's probably more likely to baby you about literally everything. Like, she's extremely protective, but not necessarily jealous, but you're just so fluffy and soft and she just has the innate urge to protect you
➨ There's a part of her that just so damn tempted to tell you for the sole fact that it's another opportunity to flaunt how great she is. The bigger, more logical part of her knows that you're more likely to be absolutely horrified and would most likely want to break up in that very moment
➨ Which is the exact opposite of what she wants
➨ On the other hand, if you're a fellow exorcist like herself, chances are there will be some favouritism in the ranks
➨ Kind've loves you for it, because at least this way she knows you can take care of yourself without her having to mother you. And, while some part of her certainly does like the idea of having a partner that sort've contrasts her in an opposites attract kind've way, she also really likes the idea of a girlfriend that she can spar with
➨ (Insert cliché moment during a fight where one person lands on top of the other and they both blush)
➨ Exorcist or not, though, she still has her helmet just hanging around the apartment. If you're an exorcist too, sometimes the two of you will just sort've sit around and polish them whilst talking, making sure they shine for the next time you descend to hell.
➨ If you're not, well, Lute struggles to come up with an excuse for the first time you see it, eventually labelling it as an odd gift from Adam. It doesn't come up in conversation again till she comes home late from the office (curse the seraphims and Adam alike for giving her so much paperwork) only to find you curled up in your shared bed, clutching her helmet to your chest
➨ (It couldn't of been comfortable, but Lute's cold heart melted ever so slightly at the sight)
(Spoilers for the finale)
➨ My god, if you weren't an exorcist at the end of season 1 and you saw Lute come back in the state she did - Immediate heart attack
➨ At first you were confused, because, well, she told you she'd be gone for the entire day and wouldn't be back until midnight. And yet, when the commotion outside started only to be followed by horrified gasps, you couldn't help but get anxious
➨ Winding through the panicked streets, you finally managed to make it to the front, only to see Lute staggering toward the high seraphim. Her gaze glossed over you, eyes narrowed into slits that burned with raging fire
➨ Not only was she covered in crimson, but her clothes were also stained with the brilliant gold of her own blood. If that didn't freak you out, you couldn't help but let a strangled scream tear from your throat at the sight of her missing arm
➨ That seemed to snap her out of it. She glanced past the extremely tall form of Sera and gave you a mixed look, one filled with regret and despair, rage and fatigue, and the slightest hint of warmth as your very presence calmed her. Too much shit had happened in the past hour or so for her
➨ However, her bedraggled form covered in her own blood and the blood of sinners alike was bound to spark more questions from your anxious mind, and Lute had the idea that if you reacted like this about her returning early from an extermination, you probably weren't going to be so receptive to what her job actually was…
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Rules + Info,
Masterlist,
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