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chaedomi · 8 months

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Hi I just found your blog and you are so talented, your writing is so immersive you really have a gift, I was wondering if you could write for some yandere oshi no ko? Maybe with the mc being a very famous model, platonic or romantic is fine

LOVEABLE MODEL

WARNINGS . YANDERE, female reader, can be read as platonic or romantic, ooc, hints toward spoilers in manga (and anime for those who have reached a certain point), implied stalking, mostly everything you'd find in a yandere post, unhealthy relationships (if i missed any, kindly alert me)

WORDCOUNT . 2.7k+ / MASTERLIST.

YOU WERE pretty and sensational. You had a diverse career that allowed you to explore different types of styling, keeping the job interesting. You were also a huge influence and an inspiration to many, encouraging them to pursue a career in modeling and to experience various brands of fashion and cosmetics.

However, what attracted people to you the most was not your career, but rather your unique personality and your unparalleled charisma. It was one-of-a-kind, something that would leave people aching for more… similar to a former starry-eyed idol. It's no surprise that you have a ton of admirers, and that includes the odd ones as well.

AQUAMARINE HOSHINO

Let's be real. Model or not, unless you were of use to him or acquainted with his sister, AQUAMARINE would see no necessary need to interact nor get to know you. Why should he care about someone who will eventually fall from stardom?

But, in this case, it was different. Very much so. It was as though time stopped for a split moment when you both passed each other in the school hallways. Faster than his mind could process, his hand was already reaching out to grasp your arm as if he were to let you go, you would disappear for an eternity. Unusual of him. After you overcame your brief surprise from the sudden contact, you offered him a polite smile, eyes twinkling with unspoken mischief… to which he gawked at like an idiot.

How was it possible for you to possess the same charm as 'she' did…? He’s so stunned and in disbelief that he’s incapable of constructing a coherent sentence for some time. No investigations were made to confirm his assumptions… he was THAT convinced. You best believe he made the effort to become associated with you. It wasn’t as though he was desperate to attach himself to you, you noticed, but somehow, he always found a way to be around you, and if on the correct setting, it was beyond unnerving. You shrugged your shoulders at his abnormal behavior, justifying it with a “you’ve handled worse.” By the time it is finally drilled through your thick skull that hey, ‘something is wrong,’ Aqua would have fully wedged himself into your life. Good luck trying to avoid him…

There is an annoying obstacle in the way… namely your career as a model. Not to mention, the large fanbase you have gained over the years. So much as it was very tempting to find shady methods to force you to void your career entirely, the problems that can arise afterward will be more than problematic.

As said, because you remind him of a certain individual, his extreme tendencies will begin to lay on you. Just because he cannot end your career does not mean he cannot become overbearing. The fear of seeing you injured or harmed in any way replays a very unpleasant memory in his head…

He constantly monitors what you do, and whom you choose to interact with, and makes decisions that seem appropriate for you. It's as though you’ve lost your right to free will…

He's aware of how wrong it is. But, to him, it feels like a second chance, to lift some of the burden that he has carried on his shoulders for a while, to rid of the guilt that was slowly destroying him mentally and emotionally. Well, at the very least, he didn't convince himself you were 'her'. Even though there were some strong resemblances in characteristics, it was still easy to nitpick many differences (to him).

RUBY HOSHINO

There's without a doubt, Aqua was only familiar with your existence due to RUBY. A walking and living example of a true stan and diehard fan; god, she was obsessed with you. Magazines, products, advertisements, brands, merch, anything that has your face plastered on it, she’s out to grab it all… what she can afford, by the way. Your hair! Your lips! Your EYES! How can someone be this attractive!? Forget Model… someone put you in a museum for you to be admired by millions, quick!

As you can tell, Ruby has quite an attachment to you. And this is her without the yandere tendencies included. It was terrifying and had the potential to creep out anyone unfortunate enough to listen to one of her passionate rants. Other than her fawning over you for your glorious visage, there was another reason as to why she acted the way she did. You were just like 'her', the way you spoke, the way you moved, everything was down to par. It filled her mind with memories of 'her' helping her cope through dark times, and you were too doing the same, distracting her from the negativity that threatened to cloud her mind. At some point… she fully believed that you were 'her' in another body. You just had to be! Explain the similarities! It took thorough reasoning for her to understand that the possibilities were low. You were around her age, so by the time 'she' passed away, it would have been too late for that to happen.

On the day of school, it came as a big shock to her seeing so many famous faces inside the premises. But the biggest one of them all was when you walked inside her classroom all smiles, apologizing to the teacher for your tardiness. Shit… was she actually inside a dream right now!? She pinched and twisted her skin for good measure. Nope! She was alive and conscious! There’s no room for argument, she most definitely did snap a couple of pictures from where she seated, behind you. Somehow, she mustered up the courage to converse with you after class, falling deeper into her admiration for you.

Unlike her brother who saw your career as a nuisance, she fully supports you to continue all the way! In addition to that, it's a massive stroke to the ego that she had the privilege to bask in your presence while the majority had limitations. Do you know how many people would kill just to breathe the same air as you, The Loveable Model?

Turns out, Ruby can make for a dangerous yandere. Once Ruby puts her mind into something, the results made afterward are so impressive that it’s scary… But, it’s not like she’ll ever need that to happen, as long as you vow to stay by her side, she’ll make no drastic attempts to prevent herself from losing something as she previously did.

KANA ARIMA

For KANA, at first, it was an in-between… Although it was not to the extent of Ruby, she was a fan of yours… you were just too entrancing! You’re the reason why she went through many style phases, buying useless shit she didn’t need, wearing expensive brand clothing that you featured in… you get the main idea. Sooner or later she had to stop as she noticed the money she made from her child career quickly diminishing the more she allowed herself to indulge in her fan side for you. Begrudgingly she put a halt to it, still buying your magazines every now and then.

The other half is completely sour when she sees how whipped Aqua is for you. (she totally doesn’t question if Aqua’s attachment to you was romantic or not…) She kind of gets it; your personality, your looks, and your status as a famous model, you were a ten. But, there was a difference between love and admiration, so you were some sort of rival to her.

Fear not, Kana gets past that, clinging onto you instead as she got to know you in person. It was bound to happen. Kana was already ‘under your charm’, so it was only a matter of time before that admiration morphed into an obsession. Kana can be very clingy and manipulative. Manipulative in the sense that she uses her sad-sob backstory to ground you by her side. The majority of her supporters are now her anti-fans, she doesn’t have her parents around, and now you, the idol she looks up to, want to leave her too!? You wouldn’t do that to your lovely supporter, right?

Kana wouldn’t care about your career too much, she understands what it’s like to really love your job, so she doesn’t complain a lot. As long as you treat her kindly and remember her, she is content. Please.

MINAMI KOTOBUKI

It's like, the calmer the individual is, the uglier their hidden side will be. And MINAMI will not be excluded from that logic. There is no doubt that Minami was affiliated with you due to her status as a pin-up model. On some weird, rare occasions, you would find yourself as her partner for a certain aesthetic for a photoshoot. So, yes… you knew each other to an extent.

What you couldn't wrap your head around was the fact you always felt a sense of unease around her. She out of all people. Why? She's an absolute sweetie, gentle and pure at heart. She always compliments you on how you look and praises you for the work you put in toward modeling. She goes on further to say she can see why people adore you so much.

There's nothing for you to worry about… except for the glaringly obvious issue that her eyes seem to follow whatever movement you make. It could be the twitch of a finger or any minority; glance to the side and there are pink doe eyes already staring holes into your face. Or when you're seated in the courtyard and just so happen to look at the corner nearby and see Minami there, who smoothly brushes it off with a friendly wave.

It was fine to you, till you began to see those pink doe eyes in the more uncanny places, namely restaurants you're in, or your job… you could swear you saw those pink eyes somewhere inside your house one time. But as you blinked, they vanished. As you take a peek at Minami who catches your gaze and laughs brightly, you can't help but wonder if it was just your imagination and you were overreacting…

FRILL SHIRANUI

Hmm… This one is a bit tricky. You see, FRILL doesn't tend to expose much of an expression or a reaction. You never know what's going through her head or how she feels about something till she bluntly puts it into words.

She's also affiliated with you because of your careers, (the magazines of hers and you are always trendy and are the most popular) so you weren't awkward or tense around her. It's just… Why is she looking at you like that? It's similar to Minami in the sense her eyes never leave you, but there is a layer of coldness in her gaze, in addition to the slight furrow of her eyebrows.

You thought she hated you. For what? You didn't know. It couldn't be career-wise, she had a great number of followers and need not be concerned about you overthrowing her. She didn't come across as the petty type either.

What did you choose to do about the matter? Simple. You approached her with a blinding smile, getting straight to the point. That day you got to witness a sight you'd never think you'd receive an opportunity to.

Embarrassment. She got embarrassed and the light blush that crept its way to her cheeks had you staring in astonishment. It was out of character for her, much more the difficulty she had to fumble out a proper sentence.

You just left for your next class as the bell rang because wow, that was unexpected. It was cute to watch, seeing Frill become so soft-spoken around you. Who knew that a high-ranked celeb like her looked up to and admired you too!?

You're so amused by her change of personality that you don't notice the icy glares she shoots toward people daring enough to take another step closer to you…

AKANE KUROKAWA

Another person who viewed you as a rival due to how whipped Aqua was for you. It didn’t matter whether Aqua’s attachment to you was platonic or romantic, the undivided attention Aqua gave you was something AKANE dreamed of having. So, when the chance arrived for her to develop a new character for the reality show she was featuring, she jumped at the opportunity to become what Aqua desired in a person. Spending hours studying your character, she aspired to impersonate you. Sadly, it didn’t work as well as she thought it would. Of course, she could never compare to you and your charisma. You were beautiful, very famous… there are just some things you cannot copy.

Initially, it was disappointment over Aqua’s lackluster reaction to her change, after all, she thought this a good way to pay him in return for what he did for her. Later, as she began to develop romantic feelings for him, the disappointment morphed into frustration. She felt like a loser all over again… No effort will make him adore her as she wants him to… So, she gave up.

Strangely enough, you managed to weasel your way into her heart in place of Aqua. She didn’t know what to make of it at first, frozen with a pale blush on her face when you praised her for her work. The way her heart thudded against her chest… she didn’t even react like that to the boy she so claimed to like. Perhaps he wasn’t the one she should waste her time on…

Even though Akane is considered one of the more ‘dangerous’ yanderes with her high intellect and analyzing skills, she’s pretty much harmless. In the nicest way I can say it, Akane is akin to a loyal devotee of some sort… As in whatever you desire, Akane will try her best to provide it, impersonation or not.

Akane is familiar with your works (god, BLESS the photographers for capturing your elegant essence in the most perfect angles), and is amazed, but she's not that into it??? Maybe if you were to branch out into her area of acting, the hype would be stronger… That doesn't mean you should stop in any way though! Continue to pose and look pretty while she appreciates (read as obsesses over) the sight. However, if your career were to ever… become an obstacle between you both, THAT will get her FULL attention.

BONUS: AI HOSHINO

In this scenario, let's pretend you were around the age when AI was still alive. Let's think about this. Suppose you had a terrible childhood without correct familial guidance, or experienced situations that resulted in you being unable to feel and express love properly.

Now, imagine you came across a person who made you feel the very emotions that you desperately sought out. Would you want to distance yourself from that person, especially when they granted you something you've been seeking for so long?

The answer is no, and that's exactly what Ai did. By far, the worst one out there. She isolates you, she breaks your bonds with other people, and when you try to voice your complaints about her actions, she has the audacity to play innocent, baffled by your accusations.

A master with her words too, you would point fingers at her, the bad guy, and somehow, the argument would end with you apologizing and her rubbing your back gently as a large smile spreads on her face.

Surprisingly, she was the one who encouraged you to pursue a career in the entertainment industry. You agreed, thinking she was being normal for a change, but then later found out it was for her to spend time with you without consequences… Who would complain about two famous celebs hanging out with each other!? Not that she had a problem maintaining a lie, she just wanted the easier route.

It was very shameful that you felt a sense of satisfaction over the announcement of her funeral. Too bothered by the things she did while she was alive to you, the news deserved a celebration instead.

You lived a few more years of your life in peace. However, the day both of her children arrived on your front doorstep, it made you realize that Ai had no intentions of leaving you alone, allowing her children to replace the role she owned in your life. Even in death she still found a way to trouble you…

©chaedomi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.

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slytherizz · 4 months

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In The Shadow of Us - Sebastian Sallow x Female!MC/Reader

a/n Scene from Chapter 11 of 'ItSoU' commissioned from the incredibly talented @diligentcranberry as a Christmas present to myself - It's so pretty I still cannot stop staring at my traumatised darlings. I never really shared much of my long fics on Tumblr besides the first chapters so here's some smut.

You can read the complete fic on Ao3.

Chapter 11 under the cut...

The streets of Hogsmeade were deserted besides a small grey cat that scurried along the chimney stacks. Perhaps the return of Ashwinders to the area had scared most reasonable people to their beds. But neither she nor Sebastian had ever been reasonable people and they stood oddly calm in the night air outside the familiar tavern she'd apparated them to.

“I don’t want to go back to Poppy’s - too dangerous. Harlow may be bold but even he’d think twice before darkening Sirona’s door,” she said with a tight smile. Sebastian recalled that first trip to Hogsmead and was pleased to know some things hadn't changed.

She pushed through the heavy doors of the ancient pub. It was quiet. Where one would usually find patrons huddled in corners, playing cards over stiff drinks there were empty chairs. Where you'd see student that had sneaked out of the castle to drink and sing crude songs of their rival Quidditch teams until Sirona would shoo them out in the wee hours of the morning, there was silence. There would be no stumbling drunken feet of friends and young lovers up the long path to the castle castle tonight.

“Sirona?” she called and her voice echoed through the emptiness. The older witch appeared from behind the bar, her wand in hand as if she expected trouble to come knocking more than revelers these days.

“Oh, there’s a face I haven’t seen in a while. Hello, love-” her eyes landed on Sebastian with a look of surprise, but her eyes softened as she took him in.

“Hello son, you look like you could use a drink,” she smiled. Sirona looked older, her hair peppered with grey around her temples the creases around her eyes more defined but her manner was familiar and Sebastian felt the tension leave his shoulders.

Sirona like any good innkeeper, had that innate ability to sense your needs before you had a chance to voice them. With a flick of her wand two glasses of firewhiskey settled on the bar in front of her. Sebastian took a seat on the high stool and took a deep gulp from the glass relishing the burn as the amber liquid slipped down his throat.

The witch slid into the space seat beside him and took a tentative sip from her own glass with a wince. She never had been able to handle her drink and he laughed slightly at her sour expression.

"It's good to see you, Sirona," Sebastian said honestly. Sirona had always been kind to him. An aunt like figure to Sebastian and a shoulder to lean on more times than he’d care to remember. She'd seen him grow from a mischievous boy into a troubled young man, but unlike other she had never drawn back from Sebastian. Much like the pub itself Sirona was a constant pillar of support, always open when someone needed it most.

Sirona poured herself her own glass, and topped up Sebastian's. She leaned back on against the counter on the opposite side of the bar her eye flicked between the two of them.

"I won't ask exactly what event have led to you both being here tonight," she gestured between them amused "I know you can't tell me about your work dear, as much as I'd love to know the details - my guess it has something to do with Harlow."

"You're too perceptive for your own good, Sirona," the auror chuckled. "I promise, you'll be the first to know when this is all over."

"I hope so. Business has been dreadful, the inn is doing well but my bar sales..." she grimaced "Hogwarts is practically under lock down and even I'm beginning to miss the Gryffindor Quidditch team's terrible singing."

"No one wants to be on the streets these days so most of my rooms are full. Unfortunatly, you'll have to share." The witch sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and looked at Sebastian nervously through her lashes. It wasn't like they had never slept together before. They had infact done a lot more together than sleep, it was almost amusing how this woman who had fought fully grown trolls at the tender age of fifteen, who had spent the last five years fighting dark wizards; yet Sebastian made her nervous and he luxuriated in the knowlege. He shrugged at her, as he schooled his features into an unreadable mask. Sirona's eyes flicked between them.

The witch beside him stretched her arms as she yawned and wrinkled her nose at the dirt crusted under her fingernails.

“It’s the usual place in the attic, dear. The bathrooms just down the hall,” Sirona smiled warmly at her. The witch finished the last dregs from the bottom of her glass, stifled a cough on her sleeve from the burn and slid off the stool to make her way upstairs.

Sebastian tracked her movements across the bar before she slipped up the stairs. A knowing smiled tugged at the corner of Sirona’s mouth, her eyebrows quirked and he drowned the lump that formed in his throat with a deep swig from his glass.

“I must admit despite the circumstances - it's nice to see you both together again. You two were inseparable as teenagers and both so serious too. I guess with hindsight, I know why…" a sad smile deepened the creases around her eyes.

"We bring out the worst in each other," he sighed with a shake of his head.

"I'm not so sure. Unfortunately, I think you both would be who you are no matter what. You both had to grow up far too fast, but I think you understand each other in a way others can't."

“Maybe we didn’t understand each other as well as you thought,” he grumbled. If she truly understood Sebastian wouldn't she have stood by his side after everything that happened but her words still rung in his mind -

I would care.

Sirona fixed him with an assessing eye, as if she was peeling him back. As if she could sense every hateful, lusty and confusing thought he’d had of the witch upstairs. Sebastian shifted uncomfortably under her gaze and she softened.

"Not everyone gets a second chance at happiness, Sebastian. Don't waste yours."

Sirona said it like it was so simple. Like he could erase the last five years if he let himself. Coming from anyone else he would have hexed them. Sirona she met the world through the doors of this old pub, listened to everything from the lamenting of love sick teenager and world weary travelers who'd seen the darkest crevices of this world. He didn't know where his own problems fit in to that scale but he rolled it over in his mind.

A second chance. The words soothed his soul.

***

The summer at Poppy’s had done him good. Sebastian stared at his face no longer gaunt and hollow through the steamed up mirror of the small bathroom in the Three Broomsticks. If it wasn’t for the tattoos that covered his torso and crept up his neck he would barely think he’d been in Azkaban at all.

His clothes no longer hung off of him as he’d regained the strength and despite the nightmares that still haunted him nightly his eyes were no longer framed by dark bruises. The constellations of freckles that peppered his face and shoulder had returned in earnest, dark across his nose and cheeks. He adjusted his towel around his neck to cover the tattoo on his chest and placed his hand over the one on his neck.

This is who he would have been, if he’d never been to Azkaban.

He muttered a scourgify on his trousers before he pulled them on. Spells never made his clothes fully clean and not wanting to dirty himself further he left his dusty shirt in a the wicker laundry basket. Sebastian padded across the hall and hesitated in front of the door. He couldn't hear anything from beyond the door.

With a long exhale he stilled his breath and rapped once on the door to announce his entrance.

She leaned against the windowsill her arms crossed over her thin nightdress. Her hair was loose from its braids and it fluttered in the warm summer breeze from the window. She watched the streets with a feline stillness, like an assassin on the roof alert and vigilant. Her eyes flicked up to meet his own as the door creaked, announcing his arrival.

He clicked the door behind him but he could feel her eyes on him. Sebastian raised his eyebrows at her a small smile tugged at his lips at the way her eyes roamed over the bare expanse of his chest. The room seemed stiflingly small, the low vaulted ceiling left little space for more than the bed and a small nightstand. She was propped up on the windowsill, Sebastian leaned beside her and felt the warm air lick over his skin.

She swallowed audibly and pulled her lower lip between her teeth. He see her from the corner of his eyes scan the bare expanse of his skin.

"What do they mean?"

"You're an auror, I thought they would teach you this kind of thing?" Sebastian frowned.

"No."

Sebastian moved in front of her her and caught her hand in his, admiring the way her chest swelled as she held in a tight breath. He brought her fingers to press into neck, his skin tingled under the featherlight touch.

“This is me. Prisoner identification number,” he supplied, as he turned so her fingers could glide down his spine "These mark each unforgivable curse, they found when the Wizengamot surveyed my wand."

Her nimble fingers traced each ugly black stain on his skin in turn.

Crucio. Imperio. Avada Kadavra.

She lingered over each one, as if they were familiar like she knew they should decorate her own skin.

Sebastian turned slowly back to face her and took her hand in his once again. Finally, he pressed her palm flat over the one on his chest. Directly over his heart. He knew she could feel how hard it pounded in his chest. Sebastian's face so close to hers, he could feel her stuttered breaths against his freckled cheeks.

"This is my sentence. Life In Azkaban." She sucked in a breath through her teeth.

Sebastian didn’t want to explain the one on his wrist. The one he scratched at more fervently than the others. A particularly cruel form of punishment designed especially for him. When they peered into my mind, saw what tortured him most; It was always her. They’d inked her name in their ancient texts.

They stared into each other for what felt like an eternity. He waited for her to pull back, to recoil from him. Waited for his own body to do the same; to remember every aching moment of the past five years. But with her hand still pressed against his skin, her eyes boring into his own every rational thought burned away.

Sebastian wanted to be the version of him that stared back at him from the mirror. The one that did not bear the weight of the last five years.

He let his lips ghost across hers.

Sebastian wondered if this was some new form of torture and this was some feverish fantasy of a man slowly dying in Azkaban. Or if they'd chained him to her on purpose, the only one who made him feel blood boiling hatred and blinding desire. A kaleidoscope of feelings, brutal, dirty and wonderful. To make him lose every rational thought in his body as her mere existence overwhelmed him before they ripped it away.

She whimpered into the hairbreadth distance between his lips and hers. A pleasureful little sound that made some primal part of Sebastian practically purr with need. With one hand still pressed to his chest her other to wrapped around his neck to roughly pull his lips to hers in a feverish kiss.

Sebastian’s hands fisted into her hair, drawing her into him. The taste of her, the feel of her pressed against him made him feel like the world tipped on its axis. He nipped needily at her bottom lip and she gasped, granting him access to flick his tongue between her now parted lips.

She kissed him back feverishly, her own tongue collided with his own. He knew no one had touched her like this and it was like they’d both been starving. Her lips hungry against his own.

But he needed more.

In his desperation to feel as much of her as he could, hold her to him so she couldn't be stolen from his grasp Sebastian maneuverer her back until she collided with the wall. He pressed the entirety of himself against her, shamelessly dragging his hands along her curves.

He knew he was being rougher than he’d ever been as his hands groped every inch of her. But he was a man starved of touch for so long and he clung to her as if his very life depended on it. She seemed to crave that hardness as much as he did, as she ground her core against him where his leg had nestled between her thighs. Her fingers clung to his shoulders; her nails decorated half-moons amongst the splattered freckles. He hissed with delight at the pleasureful pain, as it broke through the numbness he’d felt for so long.

He grasped her chin to access her neck, to trail fire down her skin as he nipped at her thundering pulse. His teeth grazing every inch of her throat.

Sebastian snaked down the dips of her curves, to pinch and knead at her sides through the fabric as he worked his way to the hem of her nightdress. He slipped under her skirt to squeeze her backside and he savoured the vibrations in her throat against his lips from the groan that escaped her lips.

With how soft her skin was against his calloused hands he wanted – no needed to feel more of it.

She groaned in protest at the loss of his lips as he pulled the offending garment over her head. As if to stop their passions for even for a second would stifle the flames.

Sebastian stopped his assault on her skin to drink her in. His hands swept over the curves, fuller than he remembered, over the puckered skin of faded battle scars. In the soft lamp light, her hair unbound and wild, her lips swollen and her chest heaving she looked fucking exquisite.

She pulled him back into her roughly, her teeth knocked against his as her tongue delved into his mouth once more. Her fingers entwined in his chestnut hair, he shuddered as her nails scratched against his scalp. Sebastian hands resumed their assault, exploring ever dip and curve of her exposed flesh he’d devoured with his eyes. Intoxicated by the way her nipples pebbled as he grasped her breasts in his calloused hands. He captured the needy mewls that escaped her as he rolled them between his fingertips.

Sebastian trailed his hand between the peaks and down her stomach. His fingers grazed the sensitive spot between her thighs through the lace of her knickers. He chuckled against her lips as he slid his hand beneath the already damp material. Her folds were already slick and needy. Her lips didn’t say it, but her wetness told him she craved him as much as he did her. He stroked tantalising circles the small bundle of nerves, savouring every moan and whimper against his lips. He could feel her heart hammer in her chest. She ground her hips against his fingers as her eyes fluttered closed as a waves of pleasure crashed over her.

“Look at me,” he commanded. Her eyes snapped open to meet his own, she looked at him through hooded eyes “I want you to know it’s me - Who does this to you. Makes you feel like this.”

Her lips were parted as if she was going to respond but any words died on her lips as he slid a finger inside of her. Sebastian crooked his finger to find that spot inside of her that made her knees buckle. Her head lolled back against the wall with a throaty cry, barely held up by her weaked legs but her eyes never left his. He nipped at her throat approvingly.

Sebastian was achingly hard and strained against his trousers. He relished the friction of where his cock was rutted against her thigh. The scent of her own arousal coupled with the feel of his own was a heady concoction. He wanted to feel her climax under the entirety of him not just his fingers.

He withdrew sharply from her; a groan escaped her at the loss but Sebastian was quick. He unbuckled his belt and tore the leather from around his hips. His hands groped her perfect backside, as he lifted her up. She yelped in surprise, but her thighs instinctively squeezed round his middle. She kissed across his freckled face, and nipped at his earlobe as he carried her.

Sebastian flung her onto the mattress and it creaked under her weight. He shoved off his trousers and underwear in one swift motion. His hard cock arching proudly, relieved to finally be released from the confines of his trousers. He prowled up the bed towards her and she lifted her hips so he could peel her knickers down her legs.

He ran his hands along her shapely calves and trailed his mouth along her stomach. He took her nipple in his mouth; he flicked his tongue over the bud whilst his hand re-found the bundle of nerves at her core. He circled it twice before teased two fingers into her entrance, she groaned and rutted her hips shamelessly against his fingers. She wanted him, her kiss swollen lips wouldn’t say it, but her body couldn’t lie.

She clasped at his freckled cheeks and pulled his lips to hers again. He growled with satisfaction as moved her legs apart expectantly. Caged under the full weight of him she wanted to feel all of him, between her legs.

Sebastian aligned himself with her entrance and paused to savour the lusty look in her eyes. Sprawled out below him, bare and wild like a nymph from some Greek tragedy that would surely be his undoing. They would be each others undoing.

She wouldn’t say it, but he knew he needed to hear it from her swollen lips.

“Beg me for it,” he growled low in her ear, his nose burrowed into her tangled hair.

“W-What?” she stammered. Her pupils were blown wide, and he savoured the mix of confusion and lust that swam in her eyes. He knew she wanted him. He could feel it between her thighs. But he wanted her to proclaim it, to know he wasn’t mad to think this was something she didn't just want but needed; just desperately as he did.

“I said - Beg. Me.”

“Please-” she murmured as her hips inched towards him.

“You can do better than that,” he purred, as he teased his hardened length across her folds once more making her groan.

They both knew this was insane. But if he was going to succumb to complete blinding madness, throw all rationale away; then she was coming down with him.

“I want you- I need you inside me. Sebastian, please,” her fingers scratched across his freckled shoulders in a desperate attempt to pull him inside of her.

Sebastian practically purred with delight to hear her beg for the man she’d condemned. Satisfied he sheathed the entirety of himself inside of her with one strong thrust. Her eyes rolled back and her eyelashes fluttered as she arched her back as he filled her. The feel of her pulsing heat around him almost sent him immediately over the edge. He released a groan of his own, low, and deep.

This was not the tender explorative touches of teenagers it had once been.

With every deliberate thrust into her, he drew incomprehensible moans and pleas to deities from her lips. Her hips bucked to meet each stroke as she writhed under him. Her calloused fingers mapped his skin, over each tattoo along his spine. Each one a mark of the sordid past they shared. She traced every freckle in every impossible spot no one had seen but her. The sensation of each featherlight touch and rough scratch sent shivers cascading through him.

Sebastian’s mouth fixed on her neck, leaving red welts where he sucked at the skin like he could replicate the branding of her that marked his own skin. To claim what had always been his.

As he ground his hips against her and she arched her back in approval, Sebastian wrapped his arm through the vacant space below her. He hauled her up to leave more bites along her chest. His other hand fisted possessively into her hair as if he despite the impossibility he could be closer to her. Each frantic thrust brought incoherent curses and praise from her lips. He felt dizzy with how her hips jerked demanding as much of him as she could, with how perfectly he fit inside her even after all this time.

Her nimble fingers pushed his still wet hair from where it had dropped into his eyes. She pressed her lips to his to absorb the curses and moans he hadn’t even realised were spilling out of his own mouth.

Sebastian caught her trembling leg behind her knee in a bruising grip to hitch it up. To roughly plunge himself deeper inside of her, she released a strangled cry of approval. Her legs were strong from years of fighting, but he admired the valleys and dips he created in the soft skin of her thighs with his fingers. Her breathing hitched becoming more frantic as the angle pushed her to new heights of bliss. Every rasped moan spurred the motion of his hips as he eagerly chased the sounds only he could draw from her.

He could feel her body begin to tighten and pulse around him in a way that was maddening. Sebastian was desperate to feel her peak, but his body had a mind of its own as he thrust into her desperately, he knew his own release build deep in his gut. The last coherent part of his brain not overtaken by an animalistic need guided his hand down her stomach to stroke her clit. The overwhelming sensation of his cock and his fingers had her keening and stuttering as she began to crest her peak.

“Say my name,” his voice no more than growl, as he struggled to hold back his own release.

Amongst the other senseless words that escaped her she cried his name. Loud and desperate from her swollen lips; an intoxicating sirens call, he would follow willingly to a watery grave. She hauled him down to bring his full weight on top of her as she climaxed. The way she said his name, even when she was near delirious, practically vibrating as she rode her orgasm.

To know he was the one who made he feel like this. The only one who could make her skin feel like it was on fire. The only mans name she’d ever cried when her earth shattered.

He slammed into her hard and fast prolonging that feeling of ecstasy for as long as long as his own frenzy would allow. But the feeling of her trembling release, and the continued raspy gasps of his name made his hips faulter. His teeth bit into her shoulder to muffle her own name that slipped from his lips in a guttural moan as he released inside her.

Sebastian’s chest heaved as his heart rattled against his ribcage, as he came down from his own earth-shattering bliss. They stayed like that for a while, his head pressed into the crook of her neck, still inside her to the hilt. Every inch of his skin where they were connected felt like it was on fire.

He didn’t kiss her again.

Sebastian rolled off of her, and she whimpered slightly at the loss of him inside her. They lay there together, sheets tangled around their limbs their minds fogged from their shared ecstasy.

Her mallowsweet scent was on the sheets, on his skin; it soaked into Sebastian’s mind. It silenced intrusive questions that simmered in his mind about what they’d just done. He knew they would come; he’d have to face them eventually but for now he wanted to pretend things were different.

So, for the first time in years - Sebastian slept and didn’t dream.

***

Sebastian woke as the dawn light streamed through the curtains. Golden hues illuminated the witch still curled beside him. The sheets tangled around her doing little to hide the curve of her hips, her hair fanned out around her like a halo.

He groaned and rubbed his eyes. His brain felt loud as too many questions bubbled to the surface and made his head spin.

She stirred slightly when the mattress dipped as he climbed out of bed, but she buried her head back into the pillow. Sebastian released a relieved breath he didn’t realise he was holding. He needed to clear his head before he was ready to face her. He pulled on spare clothes from the nightstand Sirona had left out for him and slipped out the door.

It was the crack of dawn and Hogsmead was still very much asleep. He walked the empty cobble streets and tried to make sense of the complicated cocktail of emotions that bubbled in his chest. Sebastian seemed to be existing in a plane somewhere between self-loathing and infuriating yearning.

Sebastian didn’t know what this meant for him, let alone for her. For them.

Could a version of them even exist anymore? Sebastian wondered if he even wanted it to. As much as he wanted to pretend the past five years hadn't happened they had and like a self fulfilling prophecy she had gotten under his skin, clouded all rational thoughts and distracted him from his mission once more.

He’d began his slow plod back to the Three Broomsticks, resigned to the fact that he must face her eventually. He hadn't quite decided whether he wanted to pretend it had never happened or make her scream his name a hundred more times when a figure stepped into his path.

Sebastian froze, his hand instinctively reached for his wand. He cursed himself for being so wrapped up in thoughts of her that he’d left it in his old clothes. He squared his shoulders and met the amused stare of the stocky man in front of him.

“No need for dramatics, Sallow. I’m not here to hurt you,” chuckled Harlow. Sebastian should be shocked a wanted man like Harlow would appear so brazenly in the streets of Hogsmead. Maybe his own actions had last night had tapped him out and nothing could suprise him more than himself.

Much like Sebastian, months on the outside had brought a fullness back to Harlow’s face. Although no longer hollow cheeked his fine clothes did little to hide the ancient letters branded across his neck. But perhaps Harlow wasn’t trying to hide them, didn’t feel them burn into his skin as Sebastian did.

“Some how I find that hard to believe,” Sebastian ground out through clenched teeth. If it wasn’t for the knowledge that the auror would probably have to scrape what was left of Sebastian off the cobbled streets he would have launched himself at Harlow and tried to rip him apart with his bare hands.

“Come on now mate, we’re friends, aren’t we? Besides - I owe you, Sallow. With all our little chats, you’re the one who gave me my grand idea,” Harlow said with palms to the sky. His open face and arms mimicked the posture of a pious man of the cloth so at odds with the man Sebastian knew him to be.

Sebastian’s felt the bile rise in his throat. What idea had he given him?

“I was thinking too small. Blackmail, bribery - why do all of that when I could be Minister of Magic? Wielder of dark ancient powers. Get revenge on the girl who locked us both away. Who could stand in my way? You understand don’t you, what it’s like to have that kind of power at your fingertips. What it would feel like to make them pay. Clever I admit, earning her trust before stabbing her in the back,” Harlow cast a wry eye over the collection of bruises that had formed below Sebastian’s jaw, and he chuckled. “She is a pretty little thing I admit. Don’t blame you for wanting to fuck her first.”

“You can’t get to the repositories. The goblins tried, it’s pointless-” Sebastian began.

“I don’t need those repositories; I already have enough from what the goblins took to fix this,” his yellowed teeth broke into a wide smile, as he presented the pieces of the broken relic from the catacomb. That’s what Bettie had been desperately clutching to her chest “Then I can take her power for myself.”

The relic.

The one that could control the dead, dark magic and grant you any impossible desire if you paid it in blood. A man like Harlow would not be far pressed to provide it with a dark sacrifice it demanded.

Sebastian felt a blood grow cold in his veins. Sebastian had spilled his secrets to the man beyond the wall and now they were all going to pay for it.

“I’ll see you round mate. Give her one for me will you,” Harlow winked. He whistled as he strode off through the vacant streets leaving Sebastian alone.

***

Sebastian stumbled back to the pub in a daze. His mind raced so fast he felt like it couldn’t remember how to breath and choked the air out of his lungs. Sebastian pushed into the attic room, desperate to feel his wand between his fingers, find the safety in his own magic.

The witch lifted her head woken from her slumber by his heavy footsteps. She greeted him with a sleepy smile.

No soft smiles could shake the panic from Sebastian’s bones. His jaw was clenched, shoulders stiff and his knuckles white where the ligaments in his hand strained against the door handle.

How can he tell her he’s the reason Harlow was after her ancient power. That he, however unwillingly, had given the man who’d designed his sisters pain all the tools he needed to spread it like a unstoppable poison.

This was his fault. He wondered if the world had always been right and Sebastian Sallow truly was cursed.

She looked wounded at the frown that twisted his face and she drew the sheets tighter around herself protectively. Sebastian knows what this must look like. Like he must regret their night together. That last night was just one moment of madness.

She’ll think last night was a mistake eventually so why not cut to the chase. Save himself the pain of thinking he could be anything but cursed.

#I actually want to bite him #he's so pretty and beefy #i subscribe to big Seb supremacy #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x f!mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow fanfiction #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow fanfic #sebastian x reader #sebastian sallow fanart #sebastian sallow art #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy fanart #hogwarts legacy sebastian

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haveyouseenherlately · 6 days

Text

hi friends 👋

i just wanted to stop by to share some of the fics which i always return to and are now like comfort food for me. all of these awesome writers also inspired me to start posting here back in march so thank you. i appreciate you more than i could ever say 🤍

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be my mistake by @alovesreading

probably one of the first 75 fics i ever read once i got back on tumblr late last year. it is heartbreaking but i cannot stop myself from re-reading it every once in a while. a is such a sweet and talented person with so many amazing fics that you should check out if you haven't. another one of my faves by her is quarter past midnight, for all of the ross girlies out there.

body piercer!matty by @sugar-coat-it

i mean, there's not much i can say about our favourite mohawked punk boy. my dearest belle killed it with this au and he's become one of my go-to matty's in this world. i'd kill for a night with him lol. ilysm belle and whenever i see your handle pop up on my feed i cannot help but smile.

truth serum by @imagine-that-100

this fic is so freaking sweet and i love it so much. again, this is another one which i found soon after i came back to tumblr. if you even need a little pick-me-up, reading this will do the trick. matty taking care of you will always be a fave trope of mine. @imagine-that-100 has also created other beautiful au's and if you are ever looking for some alex turner x reader fic, will we talk? is beyond.

costumes by @toomuchracket

roleplay with matty in his lab coat? sign. me. up. this fic fucked with my mind in the best way possible. i think it was my first introduction to birthday party!matty. needless to say, i was instantly hooked. mads is an incredible writer and all of her au's are :chef's kiss:

playing on my mind by @ughgoaway

if you for some reason haven't read any of ace's teacher au, please do it tonight. you won't regret it. they've done an amazing job at building such a beautiful, cozy world that makes you feel like you're part of it. ace, i'll never be able to thank you enough for this.

truth or dare by @abiiors

brother's best friend daniel my beloved. a first time fic will always get me and this one stuck in my mind since the first time i read it. the amount of time i've spent reading vee's work should be alarming, but i don't care. i cannot get enough of it.

the dress by @kennedy-brooke

i'm usually a matty girl (surprise to no one here) but this george fic is amazing. the text exchange between george and matty is golden, and the smut is just... yeah. another one i've read way too many times but will never get tired of it. thank you so much @kennedy-brooke for this piece of gold.

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if you have the time, make sure to check out their work if you haven't already. i assure you won't be disappointed.

there are so many other amazing writers in this community so i'll have to do a part 2 of this so it doesn't get too long.

thank you for reading!

#txt #rambles #fic recs

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schizoidcel · 6 months

Note

HIIIIIIIIIIIIIII HEHEHE spins in circles. pomni is sooooo Girl failure coded to me she totally needs a girl boss reader. sooo maybe girlboss!reader x pomni headcannons??? :3c

# POMNI x GIRLBOSS S/O ☆

omg I LOVE this request this is so real. Anon I will make out wit ur mind

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

🤍 HEADCANONS !!

warnings :: None . Just a very much inlove Pomni

Omg Pomni is literally head over heels.

Whether you're stronger, more athletic, more talented or ALL OF THOSE than her it dosen't even matter you can literally just see the amazement in her eyes

Like when she first saw you her eyes were two huge ass circles and she always does that when you speak with her or vice versa

She also stutters more ..

She also is more likely to get a panic attack ..

Anyway. I like to think you were one of the first ones that came up to her & helped her!

Which automatically made her like you more.

But as time went on and you kept on helping her (ex. with her panic attacks, finding exits, the adventures etc.) she literally realizes how much she loves you and how hard she'd cry if you were gone .

Quickly on the topic of finding exits. You didn't immediately invalidate her thinking that there was an exit. Instead, you helped her the first few days, trying to find one

Infact, you still do!! Pomni and you still try to find an exit every few days, it's like your guys' "platonic" date night out (totally platonic... totes.)

Random idea once you comforted her while she was having another panic attack and the moment you touched her she just froze and. fucked OFF and you were like "???"

She apologized later . She was actually about to confess there but Jaxs bitchass fucked it up .. everybody clap 👏👏

While on the topic, you usually defend her from Jax & everybody else aswell

You also protect her alot !!

When you have adventures, you're always near her, incase something happens

And she ALWAYS blushes. It's so obvious PLEASE

Everytime you attack or confront one of those big ass adventure monsters (like maybe idk the gloink queen) she just sits there like ○○. only ○○.

All she does is stare when you do ANYTHING it's insane

Like you cannot even distract her or like push her correctly her gaze will stand

But NOT in a creepy way she just thinks you're way to cool for her and she dosen't deserve you.

So please ... Love this girlfail... She's just abit lost 🌚

She even rambles alot to Ragatha to you and is like "[name] is so cool... I wish I could be like them..." "Have you seen the way they handled that situation?? It was so badass!!"

It's like you're a new hyperfixation or something Ragatha is DONE of this girlfailure fangirlfailing.

She will probably help Pomni attempt a 2nd confession but she keeps saying no

She's just nervous though. Like her ass is SHAKING at the thought of confessing to you another time

Whatevs. Ragatha got you. She WILL execute something

One one last note, you influence her alot!

Since she DEFINITELY loves you, she started idolising you, and unconciously for example starts speaking like you

She even started to not panic as much anymore, cus she thought '[name] wouldn't do this.'

You noticed this, and you wanted to say how happy you are that shes not panicking as much anymore, but the moment you took her hands she immediately stopped functioning. Good job girl.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

ׂૢ་༘࿐ Thank you for reading! ♡

I actually love this idea so much I'll make a short scenario I thinks...

#pomni x reader #tadc x reader

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xhanelia · 6 months

Note

Hellooo could I request headcanons for sova for what he’s like during sex? thank u! I really love your writing :)

How Sova would be like during sex

OMG MY FIRST REQUEST AAAA- Btw im so sorry if you waited for so long i did not knew that tumblr didnt sent a notification for asks. Anyway hope you like it!! And thank you so much!

WHAT DO I FUCKING WRITE HERE

Ok ok i think he has two sides.

One is when he is a big softie. He treats you like you are an angel sent from above. The small talk to your ear about how you are so beautiful and such. Caressing your skin with his hands, scared to hurt you in any way. Always waiting for your approval to do something. Basically worships you at this point. This is mostly when you say you want to do it.

The other is when he is angry or jelaous. He does not loses his mind, its not that hard but he knows that you can handle afew bite marks and such. A tone lower while talking to your ear. Loves when your moans gets louder. Like he is achieving his goals.

Likes to see his love marks being visible during the day. He has no shame of himself. If someone looks at you and him with confusion, he will go "yes, we did it." with a proud face. Kick him, punch him or join him, he is still proud of his work.

The secret third is when he is submissive but we are supposed to not talk about it. (I will)

If you were to take control while doing or YOU are the one that is jelaous or angry and started it, then he is one big whiney man.

Oh how he loves seeing this side of you. He will try to ask what is wrong but if you shut him up, then he will with pleasure. (Get it? Ok ill stop.)

Normally he is not that loud. He much prefers to listen to your moans but when he is the one under, he cannot hold his moans and grunts at all.

He will let out afew russian curse words when you move through his soft spots. (His adams apple and lower belly. Pretend i did not said anything.)

He is sure of himself while doing it yet i do not think that he is that much experienced about it. He says that he is talented with a laugh if you were to ask.

He loves when you play with his hair during sex. He loves it anytime in a day but its a turn on for him during sex. Play with it, pull it, tuck it behind his ear literally anything. (I can see him aggressively tie his hair behind when he is mad and trying to kiss you.)

I think sex with him mostly be with giggles and laughs. He is not really good with romance but he will try if you want him to do. Though it is a 50 50 if he will be able to do it or not. If he fails, its mostly because he loves to see your face when you are smiling or laughing.

He likes to sleep on you or you sleeping on him when you two are done. Wants to hold you and feel your body heat on him. It makes him relax and fall asleep much sooner.

He is an early riser and loves to watch you when he wakes up. Traveling his hand along your curves, admiring your sleeping face with a smile. He is down so bad for you.

#valorant #headcanon #sova #sova headcannons #sova valorant #sova x reader #valorant sova #valorant x reader

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berry-s0da · 2 months

Text

AI “art”

Yesterday I argued with an idiot that thought giving directives to an AI makes you as much of an artist as someone that is actually capable of creating art. It’s extremely worrying that our youth is so incapable of understanding this topic, too self absorbed on their own rigid conception of reality and utterly detached from the real world and the importance of the people you share it with, of consequences, of tangibility. They don’t know how to define art, such a core concept for our species, they are unaware that it’s an exclusively human practice a machine cannot produce by itself or for them.

Some of Oxford Language Learner's Dictionary definitions if you want tangible sources for something that has existed for longer than any piece of technology;

Definition of an Artist: a person who creates works of art, especially paintings or drawings.

3 definitions of Art:

1) the use of the imagination to express ideas or feelings, particularly in painting, drawing or sculpture.

2) the skill of creating objects such as paintings and drawings, especially when you study it.

3) an ability or a skill that you can develop with training and practice.

(defining a piece through words could turn into literature, writing is an outlet for creativity and imagination too, the problem is that they want to claim a graphic piece they had no part on as their creation…which makes no sense for obvious reasons. This might blow your mind but you actually have to be involved in the making of a piece in order for it to be an artist. Writing a brief description of what you want the AI to make for you is not a form of creation, it’s a directive for a machine to do what you can’t)

If you don’t have mental resources, talent, skills, capacity of handling different tools, mediums and techniques then you are not an artist (and that’s okay), but you could be if you tried. Writing a prompt is not making art, everyone with enough mental capacity can come up with a concept for a piece, people that commission artists do that and that doesn’t automatically make them artists.

An AI won’t do shit the way you request it even if you say it does. An AI makes an interpretation of the request but asides from mild guidance, you have absolutely nothing to do with the process or the final “piece” (Frankenstein monster of already existing pieces, taken with or without consent).

An AI without regulation isn’t a new medium or something comparable to the fucking Industrial Revolutionjust, specially considering it isn’t a new, easier way to do the same task (like with an art software). It’s but a shameless way of reusing or straight up stealing pieces produced by the same artists you deem to be now useless and outdated. What you call the future is nothing but plagiarism, the usage of things that already existed in a much higher quality, a wonky replica that is only valued because it’s free for your cheap ass.

“Good artists have nothing to worry about, only shitty artists will disappear” im sorry you have to find out this way but every good artist had to be shit first. We reached a point where we are unaware of periods of time any artist needs in order to grow and develop. This logic is baffling because if only good artists are worth of being respected and having stable jobs then we’ll eventually run out of artists, which is not only silly but impossible. This is but an excuse to avoid the obvious issue that represents stepping over people and making it seem as a fair, natural process.

Finally, If you wanna draw, learn to draw first, nobody stops you but yourself. If you wanna paint learn to paint, if you wanna sculpt, learn to sculpt, if you wanna be an artist then get your ass to work. Not everything is laid out for you in life, you actually have to put work into something, as shocking as it sounds. There are people that draw masterpieces holding pencils on their mouths, you have no excuse other than self pity for being useless, being jealous of those that can actually make things and, ultimately, the unreserved, unapologetic disinterest in those affected by this monster y’all wanna have fun with.

#and lets not even mention the fact this will make easier fake porn. revenge porn. fake new and extortion #but this post is about art #text

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undercoverpena · 1 year

Text

hands

simon ghost riley x reader (f!) word count: 1.7k summary: no one look at you, never mind hurts you—not on his watch. warning: smut. blood. touch o’ violence. helen isn’t readers name. an: to the anon who wanted ghost to throws hands for helen, I hope you love it (written on phone, forgive thy)

simon ghost riley masterlist

+++

They need Tarver alive.

It’s the mission. The focus. The goal.

Ghost hasn’t been sweating balls, chasing whispers to not get something more concrete from this bastard.

It’s why he keeps reminding himself to breathe as he stares through the mirrored glass.

Tarver cannot die. Yet.

He’s sure his fingers are white from how tight he’s balled his fist watching you treat him. Despising that those delicate, kind hands are stitching wounds Ghost’s fists has caused.

Even if it’s your job.

Something Ghost is very much aware of it, but hates all the same.

Your job shouldn’t be to stitch up enemies and ensure blood remains in their bodies. Your talent and skill should be saved for them, their team… him.

But he knows it’s the job.

Knows that tomorrow it’ll be the same. He’ll rip the world apart and you’ll sew it back together again. Two opposites which work far better together than apart.

He’s already lived through being apart. He hates that more than this—and by this, he means watching you through the thin glass as you stitch a man half-tied to a chair.

It was darker, more difficult, tinged with loneliness that comradery couldn’t fix when he didn’t have you.

Now, he wouldn’t let you go. Not when he’d grown used to the moments alone in your office. Not when he has felt your thighs slick with sweat, watching you roll your hips over him, hearing you whisper his name over, and over, and over.

Because he’s lived through what being apart feels like. It’s darker. More difficult. Tinged with loneliness the comradely doesn’t fix.

But, this is fucking difficult.

He knows you can handle yourself. He’s seen it first-hand. You might be good with a scalpel, but you’re mean with a knife too.

It doesn’t stop him from being annoyed that Tarver says nothing as his fists connected with his face. Reveals nothing to him. To Price.

As soon as you’re alone with him, he has been nothing but vocal. Not about what they need. Just how little he thinks of you. What he’d do to you if he wasn’t tied down like a dog.

Unflexing his fingers, he bites the hiss back from his cracked knuckles. The blood likely dried, healing against the gloves—reopening as he moves them.

He has no problem causing pain. It’s what he’s been made into, a weapon, a fucking good one at that.

Because he is methodical. The mission goes above all else, always coming first. He doesn’t think about what this will do to him later on, not when he lands the first punch, the second or the third. It’s detached, but direct.

For this, each had to land to injure, but not kill. Knowing the mission, knowing the importance of the man still being able to talk. He just didn’t do it with much ease. He didn’t think he needed both lungs, both eyes and all of the bones in his body together. He hadn’t considered the fact Price would send you in.

So, he’s watching.

Half-wishing you’d say something back to Tarver as he insults you, as he belittles you. Instead, you take it, alternating from leaning up to stitch him to standing.

Your words are direct, and clear. Does it hurt here? Breathe in for me.

He almost turns his head. Almost.

If he had done it, he wouldn’t have seen Tarver wait for you to rummage in your bag. Wouldn’t have wound his head back and connected it with your skull.

Ghost wouldn’t have been at the door in time, kicking it almost off its hinges as Tarver swings his arm, your scalpel in his hand, only nicking you—nothing worse.

But, that fucking bastard still made you fucking bleed.

His pulse thunders, fist clenching Tarver’s bloodied shirt—hearing the clatter, but still letting his fist connect with bone.

It’s like a mist comes down.

It blinds him. Burns him. He can’t see through it, think through it. His arm reeled back, one time after the next, his mind fracturing, his handle on the mission sliding.

“Ghost.”

It’s sharp, the way you say his name. Still tainted with sweetness, a warning.

It makes his fist halt. Pausing mid-air. It hovers, head tilting, eyes shifting, slowly turning till he lands on you.

You with your jaw tight, head tilted, a pleading look spreading over your features. But, it's the blood from your split lip, the nick on your cheek, and the bump he can already see which stops him.

The lump growing on the same forehead he’d kissed this morning. The same cheek he’d touched before he left your office to deal with this sonofabitch.

It should have been the look.

Cause the look fucking stings. It twists something inside of him.

It’s then Tarver decides to spit, blood spraying across the floor. A call-out, a reminder of his presence—as if the two of you had forgotten about him.

So he drops him. Purposefully.

His gloved fingers releasing him, letting him land with a thud and a hiss. He sees you flinch when he does, eyes dropping to the floor. He doesn’t move, waiting for you to give him a sign, anything.

Because he’s not sure whether to cross the room and shield you or kill the man who insulted you. The same one who caught you by surprise when you were tending to him—who reeled his head back and connected it with yours before carnage all but ensued.

Blinking, he flexed his fingers, the cracked skin raw under his gloves. It’s rubbing, chafing. Guaranteed to be far worse than the simple bruises he’d had yesterday.

And you say nothing. Not a word.

Slowly, you remove the blue glove from your hand before letting your delicate fingers brush over your lip. The wince, the hiss—it’s like nails down a chalkboard to him.

It makes him want to tear, rip and scorch the earth. Most of all, he wants to rip the man spluttering on the floor—tear him limb from limb.

Because you’re silent. Too silent.

Your lips are tight as you walk over to the open the bag, your hand disappearing inside before you’re holding a pot. The noise of the lid snapping from the container fills the space, almost silencing the coughs and splutters, the shakes of the tablets inside almost dousing the thundering sounds of his pulse in his ears as he watches you throw two pills at the man still breathing on the floor.

No instruction. No words.

A silent threat in your eyes as you stand over him before grabbing your bag and leaving.

The door squeaks and groans as you do, the metal meeting metal before he’s alone with him.

Alone with him—the man who dares breathe the same air as you.

The one who made you fucking bleed.

“I’m not surpris’d. ‘Course she’s your whor—“

His boot comes down on his jaw before he finishes the sentence, thankful for a bit of fucking silence again.

They need him alive, after all. It’s the only reason he still has a pulse.

++++++++++++++

He doesn’t follow.

Not immediately. He waits. Gets chewed out by Price. Removes his blood-soaked gloves. Washing the skin as easy as he can. Ticking off the list until he finds himself leaning against the doorframe.

The one to your small office.

The one which barely fits a desk in, and yet somehow has fit you and him both inside of it. Albeit then, you weren’t pissed at him. You willingly wrapped your arms around his neck, let him put your spine against the door, let his hips connect with yours as he drove his cock into your cunt.

Fuck, you made the prettiest noises that day. Mouth so close to his hairline, breath along his ear.

He suspects he won’t have that pleasure today.

Won’t get to taste you. Won’t get to hear the pretty noises you make.

Not from the way you cast a glance his way. Cold. And still very fucking silent.

Normally, it would be the sweetest sound. But when it’s shrouded in bitterness, and anger, it’s torture.

“We need to talk.”

You shift some files. “No we don’t. I’m busy.”

“I’m hurt.”

He doesn’t tell you that you’re fucking beautiful enough.

Even if he thinks it. All the time.

When you’ve just woken up and at the end of the day; he thinks it when you’re off duty and when you’re covered in someone else’s blood. When you’re stressed, when you’re sad; when you’re happy, when you’re laughing.

Now, when you’re mad… you’re something else.

He’d drown in you. He’d let your eyes suffocate him.

Hell. He wants your eyes to be the last fucking thing he ever sees. That and your smile.

“Oh. You are? I can’t imagine how you’ve gotten yourself hurt...”

He runs his tongue over his teeth, thankful he’s hidden behind his mask. Stepping inside your office, closing the door—thankful the beds behind him are all empty.

No chance of gossip. Murmurs.

The door shuts with ease, even if he’s almost pressed against you to do so. You tossing him a bandage and some tape, before crossing your arms—trying to keep your distance, even in a room no bigger than 6 by bloody 9.

Insolent, difficult, fucking bitch.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I’m not apologising.”

You scoff. “Ghost, you wouldn’t know how to articulate an apology if your life fucking depended on it.”

Ghost.

Not Simon.

Ghost.

Cold. Direct.

Sighing, you turn on your chair, twisting your body until you’re fully facing him. “Still, I don’t need one. You’ve just made my job harder, is all. Now I have more to stitch back together the next time Price orders me in there.”

“You’re not going back in there.”

Your brow arches, chin raising. “Oh. Funny. I don’t remember asking you.”

“Helen.”

You stand, quickly. Almost pouncing. “That. Earlier. Is my fucking job. I don’t tell you how to shoot someone.” Your finger poking him—all bony finger against his vest. “That’s not my fucking name, and you know it. You said it enough last night, didn’t you?”

“Why’re you shouting—“

“—because you infuriate me!” you snap, poking him again, nostrils flared. “You… fucking… nobhead.”

You poke again.

And then you ball your fist, and it hits him.

Soft. Clearly not aiming to injure him, but needing to do something all the same.

It does so again. And again—

But he grasps it. Stopping it. Stopping you. Your wrist easily fitting in his grip, your eyes molten fucking lava as they connect with his.

Silence.

A different kind, though.

And he realises you’re not mad. You’re furious. It knotting and bubbling inside of you—needing a release.

And you can’t hit Tarver. Only able to do so in self-defence. You don’t want him to hit him, because you know he won’t stop.

Suddenly, he knows how he can apologise—and it isn’t with words.

No. It’s something he can do well. Because he knows you. Every fucking inch of you.

He rips his mask off, pulling you close by your wrist as he plunges his tongue into your mouth. The groan vibrating through him, thankfully married with the feeling of your nails in his scalp.

The sound of the back of your thighs connecting with your desk, the perfect ruiner of silence.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ‘ghost’ riley #simon ghost riley #simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #cod ghost x reader #ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader smut #ghost riley #ghost cod mw2 #cod ghost #Simon ghost Riley fanfiction #Simon x Helen #ghost x helen

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factorialsotherfandoms · 6 months

Text

The eggs are asleep, and finally Philza and Missa can catch a moment to themselves. Unfortunately, catching that moment means admitting to the injuries they have been hiding from their children - fussing over scratches while having arrowheads lodged next to your spine is the duty of a parent on Quesadilla Island, but an exhausting one.

Missa's quick fingers manage to pull said arrowhead from Philza's back, the momentary flash of pain causing him to nearly drop the iodine solution. He doesn't, though, just a little stain on the floorboards, and so he continues applying it to the wound in Missa's leg.

He barely notices the scratch of a needle against his back, but Missa cannot help but whine as the gauze is pressed against his wound.

"I hate it here," Missa manages, thankfully in English as Philza is in no position to twist and see his translator. "Why is everything trying to kill us?"

"The island fucking hates us, is why," Philza grouches, reaching over for a bandage. He's managed to get Missa's leg to stop bleeding, but it should still be covered. "Enjoy the island my ass."

Missa giggles a bit, even as he tapes a dressing in place over the arrow wound. He says something in Spanish which is definitely too fast for Philza to parse; he tries to turn and look, only to be gently pressed back into position.

"It's nothing," Missa assures him. "But the skeletons! Why are they so bad?"

"The skeletons aren't even the worst of it," Philza groans back. "If you ever see glowing eyes and nothing else? Run."

There's a long pause, and Philza hopes that Missa understands the severity of his warning - a Nightmare Stalker is exactly that, and Philza knows Missa is not nearly equipped to handle one. If he struggles as he does, he doesn't want to think about how his partner would suffer in his stead.

"It's okay," Missa pats his shoulder a few times, leaning around his wings to do so. "I'm good at running. It's my special talent!"

"You're good at a lot of things," Philza promises.

Missa doesn't reply; this time when Philza turns, he is allowed to. His entire body aching he sits himself up and twists himself around, taking Missa's face him his hands.

"You are so good," he promises. "So, so good. There's nobody else I would want to raise my eggs with."

There's more on the tip of his tongue; Philza quashes it as Missa closes his eyes, rest of his expression hidden by his mask.

Philza can see Missa struggle with his words for a bit - he's always amazed how someone can make themselves understood in two languages - before eventually receiving, "you are the best egg father."

"We have the best egg child," he retorts.

"We do!" Missa's entire body language perks up. "Chayanne is the best egg child, and he is ours. We are so lucky."

"We really are."

Philza isn't sure when it happens, but eventually he realises that he has leant forward, his forehead resting against Missa's mask. He closes his eyes and savours it, feeling as Missa loosely places his arms across his bare back - Philza needs his for support, one either side of Missa's hips and taking his weight, but otherwise he would do much the same.

The two of them stay in silence for a while, savouring each other's presence. The pain is still there, from protecting their children, and yet... In a simple house of oak and glass, for a moment it is all peace.

"Run away with me."

This is not how Philza had ever meant to bring it up, but the words slip out of their own accord.

Missa startles, eyes wide and spine straight as he blinks himself out of the peaceful haze, "qué?!"

"Run away with me," he shifts so he can see all of Missa's face, taking both of his partner's hands in his own. "Take the children, and run away. Find a way off this island, and to another world - one where the skeletons are the /only/ thing to worry about. I'll build you another house and we'll make it a home. Any colour you like, with a fence and walls and real bedrooms and a kitchen for Chayanne and gardens for Tallulah... You can have your own music room and kick Wilbur out for trying to steal your guitar, and we can sit on the roof in the moonlight and you can sing and I'll dance with the children asleep beneath us and no risk of zombie horsemen on our tail."

"But how-" a small whine catches in Missa's throat. "How do we get away? They said we cannot leave."

"There's always a way to leave," Philza says. "We just have to find it."

There's hands in his wings, and Philza startles.

"Your wings are so big... If they healed, you could fly away," Missa says, something wishful in his tone. "Up and up and far, far away, so far they could never catch you."

"And leave you behind?" he asks.

"You'd come back for Chayanne. And I... I could follow you then?"

"Even if something happens to Chayanne, I'd come back for you," Philza promises. "I won't leave you here, not in this hell."

"You wouldn't leave anyone here, if you could help it."

"Probably," Philza admits. "But I wouldn't come back for them, not if I didn't know I could escape again - I'd come back for you."

"I'll wait for you," Missa seems almost to melt in Philza's touch, whimpering as he curls in on him. Philza isn't even sure what he said wrong, just that his egg partner is clinging to him, whimpering.

"We might not always be together," he tries to reassure. "But I will always come back for you - I'll always find you. There's no point in running away if we don't run away together; if some day I /can/ fly away, I'd only do it to come back with help."

The whimpering turns to sobbing, and Philza adjusts his position to hold Missa properly. The hands in his feathers dig deep - one finger catches on some tape holding one of the litany of dressings in place - but Philza just holds Missa and worries.

Why this reaction? Was it something he said?

He stops talking just in case; Missa clearly wants a hug, so he just holds him, understanding only odd words of the broken fragments of Spanish between the sobs.

Eventually the tears slow; Missa pulls away, still sniffling.

"And... Spreen can come?"

"He can live next door, if he wants," Philza promises; it'll be a little hard to negotiate with Fit, but interpersonal drama is just a part of life. "A whole new town for /everyone/ - all of the islanders, and all of our friends. Maybe if we let his ex in Forever will even stop hitting on me."

That earns a laugh, if a bit of a wet one.

"I want to dance with you," Missa says.

"With no zombie riders," Philza promises. "Maybe tomorrow we could dance a bit at the Favela? But, one day, we'll do it somewhere safe."

"On the roof, under the moon?"

"I'll make a roof specially designed for it."

The tears slow some more, and Missa drops to actually lie on the bed.

"Do you really think we'll escape?" Missa turns to Philza and asks. "We broke the Wall, and the Federation-"

Philza moves to lie beside him - on his front while Missa is on his back - and takes a hand. "We will. I promise."

"But-"

"Someone cleverer than us will work it out," he smiles to Missa. "We've just got to survive while they do."

"And if they don't?"

"Then I'll burn the Federation to the ground."

#qsmp fanfic #qsmp philza #qsmp missa #genuinely can't tell if shippy or not #happy end au #little bit of character injury #they're both a bit tired so its less 'I have a plan' and more 'I have a dream'#still comes after the one with Fit tho #Missa doesn't need details he needs hope #they went out with chayanne and tallulah and archer skeletons happened #hence ows #the early spanish philza doesn't catch is missa going 'yes i do enjoy your ass its one of the best things on the island'#or words to that effect #just silly but too flirty for him to be comfy with it being understood #“run away with me” = I love you #“I won't leave you here” = I love you #I'd come back for you = I love you I love you I love you #“I'll wait for you” = I trust you I love you I want you #Philza's just not very good at saying feelings and Missa says them very fast in Spanish so Philza doesn't understand #(I love you can take many forms and still be love)#something something the irony of philza being the one who says I'll come back and Missa the one saying I'll wait #but genuinely the promise works both ways in this specific context

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touteslespetiteschosess · 6 months

Text

Love To Hate Me || Kylian Mbappé

Chapter 2 : Try Friends?

Chapter 1

Plot: Kylian's benched and now, so is y/n. What could go wrong?

Word Count: 1378

Masterlist

"You're joking?" she scoffed, watching Enrique across his desk.

"Afraid not." he sighed, tapping the pen in his hand on the desk a few times, "Send your best team to Japan with us but you're not coming."

She sat up a little straighter in her chair, "Luis, I'll be able to effectively handle the team's image from Japan- where they are- you said that yourself."

"I said that when all of the risks to our image were going to be there with us. I need you to keep a close eye on Kylian, here. Stay close to him, maybe get to know him a bit, that way you'll be able to predict his next moves. I know you're good at that."

"The man hates me. I'll have James or Louis stay back here with him, they're just as good as me, and Kylian will actually speak to them."

"We both know you're better than your entire department combined."

"Clearly not, since I'm the one who let this entire disaster happen in the first place," she grumbled.

"You know I didn't bring you here for your good looks." Luis joked, walking around the desk to her side, as she stood up, a frown marring her face, "I know what you're capable of, this team doesn't. Show them the y/n I know. You show Kylian who's boss."

Folding her arms over her chest, she allowed him to guide her out of his office. "I was looking forward to a holiday."

He stopped in his doorway, as she carried on back to her own office a few corridors away, "Tell that to Kylian!" he called and she smirked to herself.

A day had elapsed since her meeting with Enrique and y/n sat in her office, typing rapidly on her laptop. The entire training centre was quiet since about 80 per cent of the staff had jetted off to Japan that afternoon.

Just her luck that her first holiday of the year would get cancelled just so she could hang back and work. Not that the trip would have been a holiday anyway, she would've been working, but she was supposed to have a few hours to explore Japan or maybe just lie in her hotel room in the dark for a while. That would be nice.

No, here she sat, alone in her office, not having said a word since she greeted the receptionists this morning. Her fingers had a mind of their own, flying over the keyboard before she even had to consider what she was typing.

Her stomach rumbled. Loud.

She hit send on another email and went to open one more when her stomach sounded again. Maybe a yoghurt wouldn't sustain her all day.

Hesitantly, she flicked her laptop shut and headed for the door before stopping in her tracks. She stopped and turned back for her laptop- she really didn't have time to spare eating lunch, so multitasking it was.

Quickly, she headed down to the canteen and got herself a bowl of chicken and rice as well as an apple. She sat alone- it wasn't like she particularly wanted to sit with anyone in there anyway. There were maybe ten people max in the hall. A few of the coaches, who were fairly low down in the ranks, so were subject to coaching Enrique's rejects- the loft. Said players were also scattered around the room, laughing in small groups together, not a care in the world.

She opened her laptop again and got back to work, starting to draft an email in response to l'Equipe, stating their reasons for excluding Mbappé from the Japan squad.

Here at Paris Saint-Germain, we are not only a team, but a family. We appreciate Kylian's incredible talent but we cannot condone-

"I hate this."

His voice made her head snap up and her face fell. He sat across the table from her- she wasn't sure when he'd got there. She scoffed, sarcasm dripping off her tongue, "Sure, you can sit here."

A scowl was painted on his face, his arms folded over his chest like a toddler throwing a hissy fit. "I hate this place and this stupid team. I shouldn't be training with them."

"What, you think you're too good for them?" she asked, bored, not glancing up from her laptop.

"Yes!" he exclaimed.

"Nobody likes a huge ego," she murmured.

"Well, thanks to you, nobody likes me right now anyway."

She looked up, meeting his eyes, "Thanks to you, really, I'd say."

He seethed, watching her through narrowed eyes, lips pursed, "I want out. I want to go back to my team."

"Well, I'm not the person to speak to about getting a contract drawn up but-"

"Not like that. You can't make me train with this new team. You can't bench me. I'm-"

"Kylian Mbappé?" she finished for him, "I know. You've said." Uninterested, she shifted her gaze back down to her laptop, declaring, "Maybe you should try being nice to them. Get to know them."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because whether you like it or not, your old teammates are in Japan and you're here. Until further notice, it will remain that way." she glanced across at the group of men, chatting and laughing as they ate their lunch, "That's your team now."

He was quiet for a moment- a miracle, she thought! Then, he reached across the table and snatched her apple, taking a large bite, "You're right." he said, through his mouthful of fruit.

"My apple!"

"You want it back?" he asked, holding the half-demolished thing toward her.

She grimaced, "You owe me an apple."

Standing up, he hummed, "Oops."

She blinked up at him, fluttering her lashes in a way that she had to know did something to him, "Goodbye." she said, in a clearly fake, sweet tone.

"So eager to get rid of me?" he mused, an infuriating smirk on his face.

"I've got work to do. No thanks to you."

"I'm on my best behaviour now, promise." he declared, strolling off.

She frowned at his retreating figure- conceited prick. Glancing back down at her laptop, she typed a few words and then stopped. Blankly, she watched the screen for a few moments, as a small smile crept onto her face.

Sure, he was still a dick, but maybe he'd quiet down now. He'd settle with the loft for now, two armies of lawyers would get to work behind the same, and maybe, just maybe, she'd finally catch a break from the two-week-long headache that had been plaguing her incessantly.

Y/n sat on her sofa, some Netflix show playing on the TV, though she hadn't heard a word. Finally, she'd replied to all her emails and drafted all the responses she needed to- for today at least.

Her phone buzzed and she scrambled in search of the device, before eventually fishing it out from down the back of the couch. She checked the notification: her best friend had sent her some reel on Instagram. She watched it, it was something stupid, which she responded to wth a simple double tap.

Almost instinctually, she navigated to her home feed and opened the first story to pop up. Her heart fell.

For at least a minute, she glared at her phone, as if she could stare so hard it'd turn him to stone on the other side of the city. God, how she wished it would.

Maybe Kylian Mbappé had much more going on in his life and didn't think about her as much as she thought about him. It was her job, of course, that was the only reason. Nevertheless, this felt like a personal attack, and she was more than ready to fight back.

She was not a loser and she wasn't a quitter.

He'd almost gotten off lightly, then he'd pulled this shit? He'd fooled her for a few hours and made her pay for it. Big mistake. He didn't know what was coming.

Sharply, she tossed her phone straight back onto the couch, with so much force it bounced back toward her. As she scowled at the plain walls of her apartment, she let out a loud yell. Who cared if her neighbours thought she was delusional?

"Fuck you!"

Chapter 3 Masterlist

#kylian mbappe #kylian x you #kylian x reader #kylian fanfic #french #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappé #kylian mbappe x y/n #kylian mbappe x you #france #equipe de france #fanfic #football #footballer #mbappe #mbappé

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gaybananabread · 27 days

Text

☾༺Just a Bit Longer༻☽

~So I’ve been brainrotting over RW&RB for a solid month now. The goblins need a walk, and I cannot productivity until they get one. I love these two’s dynamic; they’re just so silly. Not my best work, but writer’s block be damned; I needed to post something this week. This is completely self-indulgent, but if it’s your thing, I hope you Enjoy!~

Lee: Alex

Ler: Henry

Summary: Alex is overworking himself, going late into the night and working hours without breaks. Sick of his lover’s dreadful work-life management, Henry takes it upon himself to get Alex to sleep.

Warnings: mild Red, White & Royal Blue spoilers! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

Life for Alex Claremont-Diaz was the best it had ever been. Henry came over almost daily from his Brownstone, and he finally felt like he had a definite idea of where his life was headed. The only downside: he was still in school.

The NYU Law course was a bit more rigorous than he’d expected, but it was definitely what he wanted. Sure, that meant long, painful hours of reviewing for extremely difficult exams, discovering that tort is a real word, and trying to figure out a system for coursework that didn’t make his brain want to explode.

His sleep schedule was already shit, so he didn’t think any of it would be a problem. If he just pulled a few all-nighters and pumped out some late-night essays, he’d be fine. What he didn’t think about, however, was how Henry would take it.

Alex was working late on another essay, running off of coffee and pure determination. He hadn’t meant to put it off, but with the three exams he’d had that week, his mind was a scattered mess.

Henry had put up with it for most of the night, but as two AM rolled around, his understanding had run dry, replaced by concern.

Knocking the “shave and a haircut” pattern on his lover’s door, Henry entered the room. He was immediately greeted with the strong smell of coffee and desperation.

There sat his boyfriend, hunched over a computer with a half-eaten ham sandwich (he couldn’t handle turkey anymore) by his side. The blonde couldn’t help the sad sigh that escaped him.

Alex looked up, his glasses nearly all the way down on his nose. It was unfairly cute, though Henry shoved that feeling down for the moment.

“Uh…hey, Hen. Not done yet; gimme, like, another half-hour.” Alex’s gaze was back on his computer in seconds.

Henry rubbed his temples, already feeling a headache brew. For once, why couldn’t Alex just use common sense?

“Alex, darling. It’s two in the morning. You need to sleep.”

Alex scoffed, not stopping for even a second. “Says you. You stay up later than I do most of the time.” While that wasn’t untrue, Henry’s problems were because of insomnia. Alex was just a stubborn asshole.

“Look, I’m going to be brutally honest here. You look terrible, you seem exhausted, and the bags under your eyes could fit the entirety of the Royal Wardrobe. Go. To. Sleep.”

Henry laid things out bluntly, crossing his arms. It was meant to leave little room for negotiation, but defying Henry’s expectations was Alex’s special talent.

“This is due at eight AM…uh, today. I’ve only got six hours to finish this thing, but I’m almost done. I promise, just a bit longer.” This would have been more comforting if Alex hadn’t already said that three times.

“Alex, please. If you sleep now, I’ll wake you up at six, and we’ll work on it together. It hurts to see you like this, dear.” He used pet names, trying to sway Alex to listen. It was a last-ditch effort; if he still refused, Henry didn’t have much of a plan left. Sure enough, he did.

“It’s fine, Henry. I’m all good, just a little spacy. I promise, the moment I’m done, I’ll eat your face. Okay, baby?” Alex flipped the other man’s strategy back on him, hoping to fully bury the concern. He was fine: end of story.

For Henry, though, the tale was just beginning. He racked his brain, searching for anything to help him get Alex to cooperate. He could only remember one time anyone was successful.

Alex had invited him to the White House for June’s birthday party. As the night dragged on, everyone but Alex was drunk and exhausted. To tire him out, June had employed some rather…unconventional methods.

Methods that would be extremely useful to him at that moment.

Casually approaching his boyfriend, Henry put a hand on the laptop. Then, after making sure the work was saved, he closed it. He pointedly ignored Alex’s scoff and protests, grabbing his chin and pulling him in for a kiss. Alex still squirmed, though a smile was breaking out on his face.

That was all Henry needed to continue. He gripped Alex under his thighs, lifting the man up and plopping him down on his nearby bed.

A surprised sound left him, his cheeks gaining a nearly imperceptible red hue. He was expecting some push-back from Henry, but nothing this active.

“Just couldn’t wait for me, could you~?” Alex weteased, starting to sit up on the bed. Henry was quick to stop that, grabbing Alex’s arms and pinning them above his head.

Before his lover could make another joke, Henry tapped a few fingers on his side. That shut him up, if only for a second.

“Henry, I swear to fucking god, if you try anything-” He was cut off when Henry squeezed his side, resulting in an indignant squeak.

“Sorry, dear, but I’m afraid I already have~” With that, Henry clawed his fingers into Alex’s stomach, straddling him.

The tired man tried to bite his lip, but the coffee wasn’t quite enough to give him that energy. A few giggles slipped out, quickly followed by tiny curses.

“What’s the matter, Alex? Something bothering you?” Henry chuckled, leaning down further to try and hold him still.

Kicking and squirming, Alex tried anything to get away from the evil fingers. He was tired, though; his brain was moving at half-speed and felt like it was running through soup.

“Gehehet ohoff me, youhuhu prihick!” Henry has decided to move up to his ribs, scritching and scratching between each bone.

Even on a good day, it’d be hard for Alex to get out from under him. With no sleep, coffee fumes and pure spite, he had no chance.

“Why on Earth would I do that? I’m quite comfortable here. Besides, you seem to be enjoying yourself, if that blush is any indication,” Henry taunted, jutting his chin out. He didn’t really need to, but it was a sure-fire way to rile Alex.

“Fuhuhuck off! Hehenry, I swehehear- quihit!” Alex tried to bury his face in his shoulder, though he only drew attention to a new target. Henry leaned down, blowing a raspberry on his boyfriend’s neck. Alex would rather die than repeat the squeal that left him.

“Wow, Alex. Perhaps the Barbara Streisand accusation wasn't so far off,” he teased, his voice about as smug than Alex had ever heard it.

The typically witty man was in giggly shambles, trying his best not to sound like a child. He wasn’t very successful.

“SHUHUhut uhup, youhu douche!!” Laughing like a toddler, Alex was still pumping out insults. Henry was about to put a stop to that. Going for the kill, he hooked his thumbs into Alex's hip divots, kneading and squeezing the area.

That seemed to work quite well.

“GAH- HEHENRY! You- YAHAHA! FAHAHACK!” The law student lost his shit, practically cackling under his boyfriend.

Alex arched his back off the bed, only bucking into the ticklish feeling. There was no room in his mind for witt; the best he could do was “fuck fuck fuck it tickles oh my god-”

Hearts practically formed in Henry’s eyes at the adorably hysteric reaction. Still, as cute as it was, he had a mission.

“This all ends the moment you agree to rest. Or…would you like me to continue? I bet I could just tickle you senseless all night. You’d surely be exhausted then, wouldn’t you?”

Alex couldn’t even get a word out, shaking his head as he laughed. His curls went wild, getting in his eyes and puffing up. Henry wanted to brush it from his eyes, but he had to keep his priorities in order. There would be time for fawning over him later.

“HEHENRY! PLEHE- snrk” It took a solid minute, but Alex’s resolve was weakening. He was already tired beforehand, and laughing his ass off wasn’t helping. The squirming had died down almost completely, snorts slipping into the lax cackles.

While it wasn’t an agreement, the Prince could tell that his lover would be out in seconds. Henry stopped, switching to gentle traces down his sides. The first son tried to calm down, a steady stream of giggles pouring from his lips.

“H-hoholy shihihit… Thahat was evil.” He tried taking some deep breaths, rubbing his cheeks. Alex hadn’t laughed that hard in a while. He was close to just passing out right there, pure exhaustion hitting him like a freight train.

“Possibly. You deserved it, though.” Henry leaned down, gently kissing his curved lips. This sight was one of his new favorites: Alex, his toned skin flushed, practically a puddle of giggles beneath him.

Alex flipped him the bird before melting into the kiss. He weakly pulled his boyfriend down, snuggling against him. He’d all but forgotten about his essay, eyes closed the moment he laid still; the poor guy was wiped. It wasn’t terrible by any means, but all his energy was gone.

Carefully grabbing his phone, Henry set an alarm for six AM.

They’d finish that research paper; he was certain of that. With a bit of sleep, Alex would be a writing machine. True, the slightly rushed grammar would be atrocious, but that’s what Henry was there for. Pulling the sheets up over them both, Henry breathed a happy sigh.

“Good night, love.”

#rwrb tickle #lee!alex #ler!henry #ticklish!alex #sfw tickling community #tickle #tickle fic #red white and royal blue tickle #rw&rh tickle #rwrb alex #rwrb henry #alex claremont-diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #rwrb

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greyskyflowers · 7 months

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Let's discuss the headcanon that devil fruit users heal quicker. It's not canon (that we know of) but I think it's a logical and fun thought.

We know devil fruit users are human but I personally love to think that there's benefits that we don't see. Higher stamina, quicker healing, sturdier bones, tougher skin, etc.

The human body is incredibly adaptable and I would think the devil fruits would alter the body in a way that would help the user survive. Plus I feel like it's not going to give you a badass power up without making sure that you can handle it.

So with that thought, how does it feel as a devilfruit user when you heal quickly and your crew does not?

Let's go a little further with the strawhat crew.

Zoro, Usopp, and Nami are human. They're not devil fruit users, they have no genetic advantages, and they have no modifications.

They are human in a way that the rest of the crew is not.

So I like the idea of Zoro, Nami, and Usopp having their own little bond. Taking a little longer to completely heal, more prone to bruises, more likely to scar, the ones that get sick easiest or most frequent, etc.

Like devilfruit users around the sea. It's nothing to be ashamed of, just something to be aware of.

Humanity is something powerful to bond over. Power and weakness are also, both very powerful things to bond over.

I think devilfruit users have an understanding between them all that comes from being a devil fruit user.

The feeling of losing the touch of the sea

The vulnerability of being surrounded by something beyond your control

The knowledge that you are a threat in a way someone without a devil fruit will rarely be

So it makes sense that it goes the opposite way too.

Non devil fruit users also have a understanding between each other.

They hold the promise of safety and of bearing the touch of the sea when devil fruit users cannot

They are familiar with the risk of being discarded.

For example: Luffy could learn how to be a swordsman if he wanted to. He may not have the training or natural talent but he could still be very good if he decided to really commit. Zoro can never learn how to be rubber.

Killer can never learn how to control metal

Penguin can never learn how to manipulate space

Thatch could never have learned how to be a phoenix

Tashigi can never learn how to become smoke

Deuce could never have learned how to become fire

So on like that.

I feel like that would be kind of scary sometimes...How easily you could potentially be replaced. How easily you could become obsolete.

Of course, that doesn't stop anyone. They all work to improve, to be needed and wanted. They all have dreams and motivation to be better. To be the best.

There's also that unrelenting trust between crew members that allows someone the safety net of being able to fail, get back on your feet, and try again.

With the strawhat crew, we know that most of the crew will be the best or is the best at what they do.

However, I think there's always going to be that feeling that someone is right at your heels and getting even closer.

There will be other swordsmen. There will be other navigators. There will be other sharpshooters.

Zoro, Nami and Usopp understand that. And the crew is close enough to know that even when they're old and the world starts to bring forth younger people to replace them, they will always be the best to Luffy and each other.

I just think this would be a fun trio to explore.

#one piece #zoro #luffy #nami #usopp #straw hat pirates #mugiwara crew #this idea was originally thought of because the idea of Luffy healing quickly #while the idea that Zoro has to heal slower and be sore/hurt longer won't leave me alone #Kid definitely wouldn't know what to do if Killer was badly hurt but he was fine #devil fruit captains hovering nervously and doing the 'i dont know what to do with my hands rn'#and still injured firstmates questioning their choices in life keep me going #setting sail with greyskyflowers

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sarcasticsra · 1 year

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I cannot stress enough how much everyone should watch Starkid’s A VHS Christmas Carol if you haven’t seen it yet. It’s pretty short, only about 45 minutes, and it’s truly one of the best adaptations of A Christmas Carol that I’ve ever seen.

No, seriously. I think it has even surpassed The Muppets Christmas Carol for me. That has been my favorite Christmas movie since I was a child. My mom and sister and I used to watch it every Christmas Eve. I still love it dearly and it is an amazing adaptation that I’ll defend to my death, but you guys. You guys. A VHS Christmas Carol is just THAT GOOD.

It’s done in the style of 80s music/videos, which is delightful. It’s an opera, so it’s all sung through, which I love. And it’s so good!

Let me enumerate the ways. Spoilers to follow. (Can you spoil A Christmas Carol? Once a story becomes public domain does that exempt it from spoiling? Idk, lol. Spoilers for the show, anyway. Also for Avatar: The Last Airbender. …I promise there’s a path.)

1) Bah Humbug! - Song number one and it goes hard right from the start. It is everything an opening number should be. Dynamic, sets the tone, and an incredible fucking bop. The interactions between Scrooge and Fred and Scrooge and Bob are done so well, too. You so quickly get a sense of their characters. Obviously we know their characters because this is a story that has been told many a time before, but it does it so well that you would immediately get them even if you were an alien who had never in your existence been exposed to A Christmas Carol in any capacity. That’s impressive to me. It’s not relying on the familiarity of the story to do its character work.

2) 3 Spirits - I love the tone of this song. This is a Marley with true regret and pain who is absolutely pleading with Scrooge to take the chance he’s being given. It’s less “scared straight” and more, “I need you to understand this like you’ve never understood anything before.” Marley becomes a character in his own right as opposed to merely a backdrop for Scrooge to react to. That’s a theme with this adaptation. Characters who are pretty flat in a lot of adaptations seem so much more like real people in this one. Also, whoever decided to cast Meredith as Marley here is a fucking genius. She’s so goddamn talented and she really shines here. The emotion, the weight. Gah. Beautiful. The interplay between Marley and Scrooge is incredible as well; these are two insanely talented performers breathing a new life into tried and true characters, and you really feel the relationship between them.

3) I’m The Ghost - Christmas Past is so pointed and snarky and incredible, making Scrooge come to certain realizations. “Huh, little boy left all alone. Oh, your sister died so young. Didn’t she have a son though? Why are the employees so happy, this party didn’t cost much? Thinking of something? Okay, last stop, buckle up, it’s all your own doing.” I love it so much.

4) That Scrooge - You guys. You guys. They’ve done what I assumed was impossible. They’ve done what even the Muppets couldn’t. It’s a Scrooge-Belle breakup song that isn’t the most unbelievably boring and bland thing you’ve ever heard in your life. Belle is a fucking person! She has a personality! She’s very clearly stating her case, that he’s changed and she doesn’t like it and does he have anything to say? No? Okay, bye! THE EMOTION IN THIS SONG. Scrooge starts singing not just with her but to her! All the things he didn’t say before! And then he starts singing angrily about/at his past!self for being an idiot! You actually FEEL THINGS about this relationship. It was a deep love and losing it super fucked him up! I have never before seen Belle/Scrooge done as well as this one (1) song handles it.

5) Christmas Electricity - Get ready to have this song stuck in your head for ten thousand years. This song is, I believe, the standard classical definition of “a fuckin’ bop.” It’s so high energy and exciting, you really can understand how Scrooge gets so caught up in it himself. You also see more of Fred in this song and, again, he’s a person! He has specific motivations for why he keeps reaching out to Scrooge. Corey’s Fred is hands down one of the best performances of this character full stop. He took what is usually a bit, side character and made him a full human with understandable thoughts and feelings. They gave the Fred-Scrooge relationship such incredible emotional weight because of it. I think that’s one of my favorite aspects of this adaptation.

6) Priceless - Here we see the Cratchits enjoying their Christmas with an incredibly sweet song about having little but feeling like they have a lot. I really like the way this song feels a bit cheesy (goes with the whole 80s vibe) but they also feel like a real family with some silliness and some sweetness and Bob’s wife having very strong opinions about Scrooge that he’s too polite for. Also “listen to this key change out of the bridge” goddamn just show off constantly how freaking talented this entire cast is, why don’t you.

7) The Final Ghost - I probably have too much to say about this song. It’s my favorite, which considering this entire show is pitch fucking perfect, is really saying a lot. Dylan Saunders is truly one of the most talented performers I’ve ever seen, and his Scrooge is so, so good. It really shines through here. His interactions with Christmas Future show him mirroring Bob from earlier (he has a line that’s almost an exact quote of a line from Bob in Bah Humbug!), correcting himself, and trying to be respectful/humble. Subtle displays of emotional growth even before he gets to the truly scary parts. The song is of course a darker tone, as is correct for this part of the narrative, perfectly setting up the finale song. We get Scrooge overhearing about a funeral no one cares about, the same man being robbed after death, and this death bringing actual happiness to people. Throughout it all so far Christmas Future only speaks in a wordless melody, as is apt. Scrooge asks for tenderness connected to death and is shown the Cratchits mourning Tiny Tim, which breaks him, and he asks who the dead man was from earlier. Still wordless, Christmas Future leads him to a cemetery, and that wordless melody perfectly transforms into an eerie, ethereal, “Ebenezer Scrooge.” The fucking amount of sheer EMOTION Dylan packs into Scrooge pleading for his soul, that he is changed, and the final bit of narration… fuck, you guys, it’s so good. I love all of the “scene” parts of this song so much. It all builds so perfectly.

7a) The narrator. - This isn’t a specific song, I just want to call out how excellent the narrator is through the whole show and how perfectly the narration ties the whole show together. It’s one of those things where it goes unnoticed because it’s so perfect, but if it were bad you would definitely notice. You need it to be there and understated or a lot a falls apart, but it can be such hard balance to strike. This show nails it.

8) Christmas Day - The finale! And what a finale it is! The energy is a perfect contrast to the song before it as Scrooge delights in being alive and having time to make things right. His joy is palpable as he goes about his day, buying Bob a huge turkey, making an incredible donation to the charity he blew off the day before, and showing up at Fred’s. Guys. This scene. Especially when I watch the live, but even sometimes just via the soundtrack, this scene just fucking perfectly, beautifully guts me. You know how in Avatar: The Last Airbender, Zuko has to go on his whole narrative arc to eventually join the right side, and along the way sort of betrays his Uncle Iroh, aka the only good father figure he’s ever had, because he’s a traumatized teenager, and eventually he meets back up with him and starts stumbling out an apology and Iroh just sweeps him up in a hug without a word, and you sob because it’s perfect? That is the energy present in this, what, 15-second scene, just this incredible emotional buildup and payoff accomplished in a scant 45-minute runtime. It’s truly wondrous. The finale, as all true finales should, calls back musically to previous character beats, and ends on the perfect bookend to the opening number. It’s just so, so immensely satisfying.

Tl;dr - this musical has made me feel more Christmas-y than I have in a long, long time, and I have listened to little else in terms of music since I watched it two weeks ago. (It was literally the only music I had listened to since then until right now, and that’s only because I’m in a van on a road trip to my sister-in-law’s for Christmas. While I would have been perfectly content to listen to this soundtrack on repeat for the entire 8-hour drive, I also recognize that the four other people in this van do not have my particular flavor of hyperfixated ADHD brain and probably would not appreciate that, heh. Thus I played it once and then other music. Compromise!)

But yes. Seriously. It’s so good. Gah. Go watch it!

#a vhs christmas carol #starkid #i have so many feelings #I JUST LOVE IT SO MUCH #what no this album isn’t the only music i’ve listened to in like 10 days or anything #i uh have only listened to it a completely normal amount of times #*eyes shift nervously*#team starkid #avhscc #vhscc #vhs christmas carol #musicals

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calliesmemes · 2 months

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WICKED: THE BROADWAY MUSICAL

IN HONOR OF THE UPCOMING FILM ADAPTATION, SENTENCE STARTERS PULLED FROM THE SCRIPT AND LYRICS OF THE BROADWAY MUSICAL WICKED.

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

FROM THE SONGS

“ It's good to see me, isn't it? ”

“ Isn’t it nice to know that good will conquer evil? ”

“ Are people born wicked, or do they have wickedness thrust upon them? ”

“ Many years I have waited for a gift like yours to appear. ”

“ Did that really just happen? ”

“ This weird quirk that I've tried to suppress or hide is a talent? ”

“ My whole life will change. ”

“ No one thinks you're strange. ”

“ I’ve just had a vision almost like a prophecy. ”

“ I will be loathing you my whole life long! ”

“ We’re all on your side! ”

“ The things one hears these days! Dreadful things! ”

“ The trouble with schools is that they always try to teach the wrong lesson. ”

“ Those who don’t try never look foolish. ”

“ So — what does one do for fun around here? ”

“ We’ll meet there later tonight. ”

“ I’ve got something to confess. ”

“ Now that we're friends, I've decided to make you my new project. ”

“ It’s the toughest case I’ve yet to face. ”

“ I’m determined to succeed. ”

“ There’s nothing that can stop you. ”

“ I am a sentimental man. ”

“ I think everyone deserves the chance to fly. ”

“ Why couldn't you have stayed calm for once, instead of flying off the handle?! ”

“ I hope you think you're clever! ”

“ I hope you're proud of how you would grovel in submission to feed your own ambition! ”

“ Listen to me — just say you're sorry. ”

“ You can have all you ever wanted. ”

“ Something has changed within me. ”

“ I'm through with playing by the rules of someone else’s game. ”

“ You're having delusions of grandeur! ”

“ Some things I cannot change, but till I try, I'll never know! ”

“ Come with me. Think of what we could do — together ”

“ If we work in tandem, there’s no fight we cannot win. ”

“ Well? Are you coming? ”

“ Let us put aside our panic for this one day, and celebrate! ”

“ Oh what a celebration we’ll have today! ”

“ People are so empty-headed that they'll believe anything! ”

“ I am a sentimental man, who always longed to be a father. ”

“ I think everyone deserves the chance to fly. ”

“ Why couldn't you have stayed calm for once, instead of flying off the handle?! ”

“ I hope you think you're clever! ”

“ I hope you're proud how you would grovel in submission to feed your own ambition! ”

“ Listen to me — just say you're sorry. ”

“ You can have all you ever wanted. ”

“ Something has changed within me. ”

“ I'm through with playing by the rules of someone else’s game. ”

“ You're having delusions of grandeur! ”

“ Some things I cannot change, but till I try, I'll never know! ”

“ Come with me. Think of what we could do — together ”

“ If we work in tandem, there’s no fight we cannot win. ”

“ Well? Are you coming? ”

“ Let us put aside our panic for this one day, and celebrate! ”

“ Oh what a celebration we’ll have today! ”

“ People are so empty-headed that they'll believe anything! ”

“ I never asked for this, or planned it in advance. ”

“ Believe me, it's hard to resist. ”

“ See, I never had a family of my own. ”

“ So you lied to them. ”

“ We believe all sorts of things that aren't true. We call it "history” ”

“ It's all in which label is able to persist. ”

“ With my help, you can be the same. ”

“ I need help believing you're with me tonight. ”

“ I've lost all resistance. ”

“ You've got me seeing through different eyes. ”

“ Somehow I've fallen under your spell. ”

“ I don't even know what I'm reading! ”

“ I don't even know what trick I ought to try. ”

“ No good deed goes unpunished. ”

“ One question haunts and hurts. ”

“ Was I really seeking good or just seeking attention? ”

“ You can do all I couldn't do. ”

“ I've heard it said that people come into our lives for a reason. ”

“ Well, I don't know if I believe that's true. ”

“ I know I'm who I am today because I knew you. ”

“ You'll be with me, like a handprint on my heart. ”

“ Now whatever way our stories end, I know you have rewritten mine by being my friend. ”

“ I ask forgiveness for the things I've done that you blame me for. ”

FROM THE SCRIPT

“ It was a long time ago; we were both very young. ”

“ You can all come visit me whenever you want! ”

“ Would you like to share my lunch? ”

“ I seem to have lost my appetite. ”

“ How I wish that you could have known this place as it once was. ”

“ I won't last longer at this school than I did at any of the others. ”

“ I hope you'll save at least one dance for me. ”

“ Don’t you dare say another word against her! ”

“ Now, just pretend you didn't see that. ”

“ I hope you’ll prove me wrong. ”

“ What? Never apologize for talent. Talent is a gift! ”

“ I shall tutor you privately. ”

“ Something’s wrong — I didn’t get my way! ”

“ I think I need to lie down. ”

“ I really don’t see what the problem is. ”

“ That may be your secret, but that does not make it true. ”

“ This is never going to work! ”

“ Well, are you just going to sit here in silence? ”

“ They are not telling you the whole story! ”

“ You mean … this has happened before? ”

“ Who is responsible for this? ”

“ I do hope that I haven’t misplaced my trust in you. ”

“ Young lady, do you realize who this is? ”

“ I hope you’ll save at least one dance for me. ”

“ I would do anything for you. ”

“ Well, it’s not like it’s your fault. ”

“ You don’t need to do that, you know. ”

“ I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do. ”

“ Well, somebody has to do something! ”

“ We’ve got to find someplace safe! ”

“ You think I’m really stupid, don’t you? ”

“ I don’t cause commotions — I am one! ”

“ You could have walked away back there, but you didn’t. ”

“ Fine. Look, if you don’t want my help— ”

“ I didn’t mean to frighten him. ”

“ I don’t know what to say! How can I ever thank you? ”

“ Will you be alright without me? ”

“ Maybe he just isn’t the right one for you. ”

“ Let her go. She’ll have to manage without you. ”

“ I think about that day a lot. ”

“ It doesn’t matter what your name is, everyone loves you. ”

“ I want to remember this moment. ”

“ For the first time, I’m somewhere where I belong. ”

“ Who are you and why do you seek me?! ”

“ People expect this sort of thing and you have to give people what they want. ”

“ I’m so happy to meet you. ”

“ What would you like me to do? ”

“ It’s a lost language—the lost language of spells. ”

“ Don’t be discouraged if you cannot decipher it. ”

“ What an experience you’re about to have! ”

“ What is it? Is something wrong? ”

“ You did it! You actually did it! ”

“ So it’s you. You’re behind it all. ”

“ The best way to bring folks together is to give them a really good enemy. ”

“ You have no real power! ”

“ You have so many opportunities ahead of you! ”

“ Believe nothing she says, she is evil! ”

“ It’s not her! She has nothing to do with it! I’m the one you want! It’s me! ”

“ I can't just stand here grinning and pretending to go along with all of this! ”

“ We can't leave now, not when people are looking to us to raise their spirits. ”

“ You can't leave, because you can't resist this. ”

“ I'm sorry. Did I scare you? I seem to have that effect on people. ”

“ Nobody can know I’m here! ”

“ It’s just me. I’m not going to hurt you! ”

“ You're lying! That's all you ever do! ”

“ Hear me out. I never meant to harm you. ”

“ The truth is I'm glad to see you again. It gets pretty lonely around here. ”

“ You don't know the first thing about me. ”

“ You've been so strong through all of this, aren't you tired of being the strong one? ”

“ I am nothing like you and I never will be and I will fight you until the day I die! ”

“ I thought — I though you might have changed. ”

“ You don’t need to lie to me. ”

“ Shh! Listen... Do you hear that? ”

“ We will see each other again, won't we? ”

“ We are going to be together always. ”

“ I don't think we have anything further to say to one another. ”

“ You mustn't blame yourself. ”

“ He never belonged to you, he doesn't love you, and he never did! He loves me! ”

“ I can't believe you would sink this low! ”

“ Wait, what?! What are you doing? Stop it! ”

“ You've wanted this since the beginning... and now you're getting what you wanted. ”

“ Promise me, promise me, you won't try to clear my name... promise. ”

“ You’re the only friend I’ve ever had. ”

“ My professional opinion is that you do not have what it takes. ”

#askbox meme #askbox prompt #rp ask meme #ask box #roleplay sentence meme #sentence starters #roleplay prompts #roleplay sentence starters #* sentence meme #fantasy rp #broadway rp #historical rp #titanic rp #musical rp

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