#whatever is actually going to take a lot more than 'just doing it' or getting a tutor

[koolades-world]

Can you please do a fanfic of an MC who has had a lot going on for an entire month, constantly having work, needing to deal with the brother’s problems and helping fix them, and never getting a moment of silence. All of this builds up into them needing a nap but they can’t because they have a lot of stuff to do. In the end it ends with them crying their eyes out because they’re just so tired and overwhelmed and overstimulated from everything so the brothers help MC finally get some sleep and peace and quiet

Please and thank you!

hi! yeah sure thing :)

enjoy <3

Well Earned Rest

It’d been a really long month. It felt like it had dragged on for much longer than that, but it was just at the beginning of the month that your life had gotten so hectic. Living with seven demons brothers wasn't easy and while they usually weren't such of a problem for you, this month was busier than usual.

To start, you had begun to pick up more work from Student Council because they needed help. Usually, Lucifer did most of it he was very thankful when you officially offered to take some of it. It wasn't easy, that was for sure, so you ended up spending most of your evenings doing the paperwork instead of having fun. Sometimes, you'd do the paperwork in Lucifer's study with him, which made it not as bad. This was on top of homework, of course. You didn't know how Lucifer did it. You had actually also begun to pick up chores around the house when you noticed the brothers hadn't done theirs, which was more often that not. It was tiring, but you knew by doing that, you saved both the brother who forgot to do that chore and Lucifer by helping them avoid that confrontation. It saved both of them the pain, energy, and trouble. It wasn't fun, but it was a minor distraction from paperwork and helped you avoid more screaming.

Thankfully, you hadn't gotten too many major projects from R.A.D. but there was that one professor you could always expect to assign his monthly, dreaded group project. Randomly, by some act of Diavolo, you got partnered with Satan. He was a blessing. You felt bad for not being as great as you usually are with project work, but you pulled your weight, and Satan understood.

And, of course, the brothers had their fair share of arguments. Nothing out of the ordinary. It was the usual Mammon and Levi arguing over money, Satan and Lucifer getting at each other's throats, Beel eating something that belonged to Asmo. During a normal month, this wouldn't be too bad. Of course, you didn't enjoy sorting out these issues, but it was well within your abilities. And while you loved the brothers, you couldn't deny that they drove you insane when they came to you with their problems. It was one of these arguments that sent you over the edge.

It was just another night. You'd just finished cooking and eating dinner with the others. You kept it simple so you could get back to that paperwork as soon as possible. After all, the sooner you finished it, the sooner you could get to bed. You were about to take your plate to the kitchen to rinse it off, since you'd finished first, when you heard the beginnings of an argument between Beel and Asmo. Usually, these arguments were a case of Beel eating something that wasn't supposed to be eaten and belonged to Asmo. Of course, he did this to others too, it's just that it happened to Asmo the most, because in the words of Beel, "His things just look more tasty."

"Beel! No! That's not food!" You turned around to see Asmo on his feet, standing next to Beel. He didn't respond because he was chewing something, presumably whatever belonged to Asmo. He kept screaming, as if it would bring back his lost item. At some point, Mammon chimed in, telling Asmo to shut up, and Satan after that, telling both of them to shut up.

The din grew to be too much for you. You wheeled around and slammed the plate in your hands back down onto the table. This caught everyone's attention. They went silent and turned to you. Even Levi looked up from his D.D.D. "I'm sick and tired of all this arguing." The air in the room stilled and nobody knew how to respond. You were never usually like that. "All you guys do is argue. While that's normal, I'm so tired of being the mediator. What the hell did you do before I got here? You need to start sorting out your own damn problems. I can't be your solution to everything all the time. I have a life too. Maybe you've all forgotten, but I have to have time to myself and the things that I love. Not that I don't love you, but you guys can be too much sometimes. In case you haven't noticed, I've been picking up your slack around this household, and not a single one of you noticed." At that point, tears had started welling up in your eyes, but you continued. "I'm the only one here that can say this, but I'm only human. I won't be alive forever, and I can't continue like this. Get yourselves together, then we can talk." Tears were flowing down your face at this point. What you said seemed to strike a nerve in most of them. You turned back to the door and ran away, wiping your face with the back of your hand even as Mammon called after you, sounding upset too. You ignored him.

You went to your room and locked the door behind you. After flopping down onto your bed, you curled into the fetal position facing away from the door, and just cried. You couldn't had been there long when you heard someone jiggle the doorknob, then knock.

"Mc?" It was Lucifer. "Can I come in?" You could tell he was standing just outside the door.

"What do you want?" You spoke as loud as you could muster.

"We want to apologize." He simply said.

"I need some time alone. Come back later." After that, you heard them walk away. You were surprised they actually listened. Maybe what you'd said had really gotten to them. Whatever it was, it was refreshing. About an hour later, you were feeling a little better but were still distraught. You felt like it was about time you got back to work, when you heard another knock on the door. With a sigh, you moved to open the door to yell at who ever was on the other side. However, a pillow was thrust in your face, catching you very off guard.

"We're sorry Mc. We're here to make it up to you." Belphie grabbed you by the shoulders and walked you backwards into your room, making space for his other six brothers who poured in, all holding different items.

"You need rest. I would know that better than anyone else." Lucifer threw a weighted blanket over you after Belphie tucked the pillow under your head. Asmo set down a candle, and Beel lit it. Satan had a book in hand and pulled a chair up next to your bed, presumable ready to read to you. Levi set a cute plushie on the pillow next to you. Last, Mammon pushed his way to the front, holding a sleeping mask, some cucumber slices, and some cooling under eye patches.

"I didn't know which you'd prefer, so I just brought it all." The way he sheepishly smiled and presented it to you made you grin. The other brothers peered down at you, waiting your response. With a shake of your head, you pushed the blanket off yourself to get up. At first, they tried to stop you, but once they realized you had something to say, they paused.

"Now that I've had time to collect myself, I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for actually listening to me. I'm sorry-" You began but were cut off.

"Now, stop right there, sweetie. We came here to apologize to you and help you get your well needed rest. You made so many good points. Please, let us treat you." Asmo pulled you into a hug. One by one, the other brothers joined in. For the second time that day, you began to cry, but this time they were tears of joy. Lucifer wiped them for you, and you only saw pure affection for you in his eyes.

"Now, get back in bed. It's time for me to read you some of this book." Satan gestured to the book he was still holding. With the ghost of a smile on your face, you did as he asked and in no time, you were fast asleep. Mission complete for the brothers.

#obey me #obey me! #obey me x reader #obey me satan #obey me lucifer #obey me beel #obey me levi #obey me mammon #obey me asmo #obey me belphie #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date #obey me! shall we date! #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub

[bloompompom]

Always the Quiet Ones*

*this is a revamped reupload of my previous fic

✽ summary: eren mistakenly took his new lab partner for being quiet, only to discover she was so much more than that. ✽ content: ~12.5k word count. eren jaeger x female reader, college au, one shot, mutual pining, smut, fluff, casual sex, praise, light spanking, explicit consent, alcohol, explicit language, explicit sexual content, reader discretion advised. 18+ ✽ a/n: i just really missed this fic </3

It was the honest-to-God truth when Eren said he wasn’t looking to catch feelings for anyone. But then you came along.

You were harmless enough—nothing more than his quiet lab partner in anatomy. He didn’t know what to think of you, other than you had a tendency to keep to yourself. On the rare occasion you spoke up, your words were always brief, pertinent to whatever assignment was at hand. But more often than not, you’d only address Eren with a cursory nod when he’d take his assigned seat beside you.

The class was awful enough, with two-hour labs being the worst part of Eren’s week because he spent them in a fumbling and awkward silence. But if you wouldn’t bother to glance up from your book when you talked to him, then he would treat you the same. He brought the bare minimum to conversations. He gave one-word answers; a specific grunt for yes, another for no, each you had to learn.

He couldn’t help but wonder why you were, for lack of better words, like that. Quiet. Standoffish. Withdrawn. He had a few theories on the matter—only because lectures were just that boring. His most probable theory was that you were shy. That would make the most sense, wouldn’t it?

Perhaps you were the type of student who took her classes way too seriously. He guessed you to be in your third year, like him. Maybe you were trying to get into a competitive graduate program. Or maybe you really liked anatomy. You seemed to like the textbook an awful lot, always reading far too closely in the way nerds do in cartoons. But other times, it was almost as if you were avoiding looking him in the eye.

Then there were the days—usually when Eren felt particularly disgruntled—that your quietness irked him to no end. He knew it was irrational to care so much, but damn it, why were you like that? And all the time, too. You must be stuck up. What else could he blame your perpetually cold shoulder on? He wasn’t proud of it, but sometimes he believed you were a bitch. Simple as that.

Eren’s theories could go on and on, but they all skirted the truth. At least, you didn’t think yourself a bitch. No, the reason behind your reserved demeanor was much more straightforward than that.

You had a stupid crush on Eren.

A girlish, twirling-your-hair-around-your-finger middle school crush. That made your stomach feel hollow and full, somehow at once, and had you gushing to your roommate despite knowing you’d never act on it.

It’d been like this since last semester, though you weren’t even sure Eren knew of your existence until Professor Hange partnered up the two of you.

God. Thinking about it now still riddled you with anxiety. You swore up and down that you were going to die that day. Like actually keel over from a heart attack in the middle of class and die.

In another universe, perhaps this forced proximity would have excited you. Maybe he would have given you his phone number to text about homework, and in that universe, you would have been giddy over it.

Unfortunately for you, in this universe, anatomy was far from your strongest subject. Very, very far.

You drove yourself mad over all the ways you’d inevitably embarrass yourself in front of Eren, lab after lab. It terrified you to where you wouldn’t dare ask him a question. What if you sounded dumb? So you’d press on without having him repeat himself and only scribble down what little you could manage.

It was despicable. It was despicable, and you knew it, and you still didn’t change a thing because it was much easier to pretend Eren wasn’t there to begin with. Even if it meant you’d started seeing your grade slip.

You hoped to keep that—and your crush—a secret, but there was one day he got a bit too nosy for your liking.

Professor Hange handed your lab report back, face down, like always. You knew professors did that for everyone, no matter the grade, but sometimes the rule felt targeted at you.

You didn’t want to, but you forced yourself to peel back the corner and take a peek. Unsurprisingly, a lousy grade met you on the other side. Again.

For someone wanting to hide their score, you weren’t as careful as you should have been when sliding the paper into your folder. Eren leaned back in his seat, just far enough to steal a glimpse from over your shoulder. For research, obviously. If you liked anatomy so much, then you must be pretty good at the subject.

But what he saw surprised him, especially when thought about his grade in the class. It slipped out on a chuckle when he said, “Wow. Are you even writing anything down?”

You startled, slamming your folder shut. “Huh?”

You couldn’t tell if Eren was joking or not. He was, but it didn’t come across as lighthearted as he had hoped. He often let his thoughts carelessly spill into words, but you didn’t know about that nasty habit of his. All you could think was shit, because he had finally figured out that you had no idea what you were doing.

Admittedly, Eren felt a little guilty once he saw the panic wash over your face. He cracked a smile at you, maybe for the first time. Still, his eyebrows furrowed in pity, like he couldn’t hold it back.

“The lab,” Eren clarified. He pointed to the crumpled paper, half in the folder, half poking out. “We do them together every week. How are you screwing up that badly?”

What kind of question was that? You gave him a hard frown and regretted thinking he’d be anything more than curt with you. Pity brows or not, you weren’t feeling much sympathy from him.

You didn’t reply, just stared past him blankly as you imagined how this horrible moment would torment you as you tried to fall asleep that night. You only snapped from it when you heard his chair drag against the tile. He sighed—a bit too loudly for you to consider natural—then started putting his belongings into his backpack.

“Look,” Eren began. He glanced up at you once he’d zipped his bag shut. His eyes made you flighty. “You don’t have to get stuck with a shitty grade. I bet I can help.”

His voice was flat, and you didn’t like his delivery much, but beneath it, there was a glint of kindness. You weren’t sure where it came from, and frankly, neither did Eren. He attributed it to his guilt for speaking so thoughtlessly. It was hard not to, what with the way your face—always so stoic that he’d think you were made of marble—turned sullen. He didn’t like how it made him feel. More than that, he disliked knowing you could pull such a reaction from him.

“You still have my number, yeah?” Eren asked.

You nodded. You did, in fact, still have his phone number. It was in the top corner of the first page of your notebook. He wrote it down after your first class together like you hoped he would. You decided not to do anything with it. You didn’t even save it, too worried about the possibility of drunk texting him.

“Good,” he said. “We can meet up sometime to study together.”

“Okay, yeah. Thanks,” you said, quietly at first, but your confidence grew with each word when you realized this might not have to become one of your top ten most embarrassing memories.

“Sure.” Eren stood up and swung his backpack over his shoulder. He smiled at you again. It was real this time, big enough to make your stomach flip. “I can’t let my lab partner flunk out on me.”

So that was where everything began. And by ‘everything,’ you meant how you and Eren would study together occasionally. Nothing more. Definitely not the fun sort of studying—you know, like having him study your anatomy rather than the pictures in his textbook. Oh, well. You could still dream.

It took two study dates (your term for them) before you didn’t sit on the edge of your seat around Eren. As lame as it sounded, he made you incredibly nervous, more nervous than you felt around him in class. And like in class, you tried your hardest to keep your eyes on your text. You knew if you looked at him, you’d turn into a pile of goo before you could even look away.

It was shameful to admit, but you’d catch yourself stealing glances at him, but only when you were certain he wouldn’t notice. The times when he was jotting down notes because you liked how he looked when he was pensive. His dark brows would sit low over his eyes, and his bottom lip would jut out ever so slightly. And sometimes, only when truly stumped, he’d run his fingers through his hair in thought. You liked that, too.

By the time midterms had come and gone, you started seeing Eren more and more, meeting outside of class twice a week—a third if you had a report due. By then, it was impossible to allow your heart to flutter every time you were around him, otherwise it was bound to give out.

What you wanted to call study dates quickly became what felt like tutoring lessons. And just to be clear, you were not the tutor. But after Eren had you convinced his willingness to help was genuine, you didn’t worry as much about sounding dumb. He never seemed bothered when he had to explain a topic, even if you went overboard with the questions.

It was nice to not have to think so hard around him. He’d poke fun at you because you always mixed up dorsal and ventral, and you never let him live down spelling ‘brain’ as ‘brian.’ “It was one time,” he’d always complain back to you.

After getting scolded one too many times in the library for goofing off, other spots around campus had to make do. Then that turned into you going to Eren’s place, just a five-minute walk from your lab building.

Eren lived in a house with three other boys. Jean, Connie, and Armin. You found Jean and Connie to be nice enough based on the handful of conversations you had with them. But Eren blamed them for the reason you didn’t study at the house often, accusing them of being too distracting to think straight.

Eren wouldn’t ever tell you this—hell, he couldn’t think of anyone he’d confess this to—but the real reason he didn’t like to study at his place was Armin.

Armin. Eren’s blonde best friend for the last ten years. His roommate that you would describe as cute as a button and sharp as a tack. He knew much more about anatomy than you and Eren. When Armin was bored, he’d join you on the couch and answer the questions Eren couldn’t.

He couldn’t pinpoint why it bothered him so much. He always knew Armin was smarter than him; it had never been a problem before, but now it irked him ceaselessly. Instead of trying to sort it out, he decided going to your apartment was the better solution. Your roommate, Hitch, was more tolerable.

It was near final exam week when it hit you, a smack-across-the-face reminder that you still had a crush on Eren. It happened when your study dates became less of a one-on-one thing and more like a group hangout.

You were friendly, something between classmates and acquaintances, with the peers sitting around you. One girl, Mina, told you she, Thomas, and Samuel were getting together to prepare for the upcoming final. She insisted you and Eren should join.

You didn’t respond right away. You couldn’t, not with the way your stomach churned when Eren answered for you.

“She needs all the help she can get,” he said, giving you a playful pay on the shoulder. He was only joking, but you wished he didn’t sound so eager. You especially wished his hand, innocently placed on your back, didn’t make your face burn.

You got over it quickly. It was difficult to stay bitter at people you got along well with, so much so that you’d accomplish more chatting than studying. Luckily for the rest of you, Eren and Thomas knew enough to help you skate by.

But when Eren began texting in the new group chat more than he’d text you, you weren’t afraid to say you noticed a sting. It felt like you’d let your chances with him slip by because, next semester, you wouldn’t be his lab partner anymore.

You left the exam feeling okay at best. You walked out with your head down, not paying any attention as Mina caught up to you. She invited you to come by her place that Friday night, that some of your classmates would be there to celebrate the end of Professor Hange’s pop quizzes. You thought little about it when you said yes.

You were at the get-together for an hour, maybe longer, when someone was drunk enough to start a game of Never Have I Ever. After your second beer, you felt just adventurous enough to play.

Mina’s living room was on the smaller side for hosting, but it was nice enough. She had everyone crowd around, sitting where they could, whether it was on the sofa or the floor, and in the center was an old beer. It’d warmed from sitting out for a few hours, according to Samuel, and chugging it would serve as punishment for putting the last of your fingers down. And while you were tipsy, you certainly hadn’t drunk enough for that.

You would, of course. But you didn’t know it then.

You sat on the floor, legs folded to your chest, with your hand growing tired in the air. Only your index finger remained standing when Mina shouted it was her turn.

“Never have I ever had a body count higher than five,” she announced.

A few people put a finger down, but it didn’t matter. You let your forehead drop to your knees in defeat. Everyone started laughing, hounding you to drink the beer when you whined, “Do I have to?”

If you weren’t busy downing that lukewarm can, pouting as you went, and your audience wasn’t too busy heckling you, maybe someone would have noticed how Eren went quiet, how a firm crease formed just between his unsettled brows.

He couldn’t articulate the feeling, but it reminded him of the one he got when he saw you laugh with Armin. Some strange burning, uncomfortably deep in his stomach. It made him not want to look at you any longer.

Your body count didn’t offend him. After all, he had to put a finger down for the same reason. Though you surprised him, he had to admit, but that wasn’t new. The more he learned about you, the more he realized his assumptions about you couldn’t have been more off—specifically the ones about you being a bitch and good at anatomy.

Eren studied you from across the room. Your nose crinkled; giggles spilled from you as you tried, for the second time, to finish the rest of the beer. Eren had heard you laugh—many times, actually—but something about it always made his chest go tight.

His thoughts ventured further, wandering, wondering if you crinkle your nose the same way when you come.

He could see you beneath him, naked. Brows pinched together cutely, teeth dipped into your swollen bottom lip. He could feel your thighs under his hands, soft and giving under his palms as he slipped between—

It was so wrong of him. To be in a room full of people and pretend as if you were the only two people there. The only two people to exist.

That swarming in his gut burned hotter. He took another sip of his beer like it would dull it.

There was a moment of doubt. Almost like a hangnail, he could pick and pick at it until he created a wound of his own making. What was so wrong with him that made you uninterested?

He could deny naming the sick feeling as much as he wanted, but Eren knew what it was: insecurity. He was jealous of people he didn’t even know, for no other reason than they had the chance to be with you in all the ways he craved.

He felt fucking pathetic for it.

Eren didn’t stay at the party long after that. You left Mina’s just before midnight and didn’t think of much of that night, or Eren, for the rest of the weekend. On Monday, you checked your final grade for anatomy, and by some miracle, you passed the class.

It was well into winter break when you saw Eren again. You bumped into him at a house party, when there was about a week left until classes started and everyone was trickling back to campus to celebrate the new year.

You didn’t expect to see him this soon—actually, you weren’t so sure you’d ever see him again. Anatomy was the only glue holding you together. You wished you could say you had more faith in the friendship, in him, but he hadn’t talked to you since Mina’s party. You thought he would have at least been curious to know how you did in the class.

It was probably better this way, you told yourself, considering you nearly failed the class because of him. Well, you technically passed because of him too, but you wouldn’t have needed to worry about failing if he wasn’t your lab partner.

All that for a silly crush.

You stumbled into Eren toward the end of the night, the time when parties turn spacey and liminal; the limbo dividing night and day. A few lights were on now, and whoever was in charge of the music had clearly given up a while ago. Everything was a not-so-subtle sign pointing toward the exit.

Believe it or not, you wanted nothing more than to go home. You would have been out of there thirty minutes ago if it weren’t for Hitch. Your loveable, yet self-proclaimed ditzy roommate had disappeared.

By the time you thought to search for her, you had already drunk past your limit. You were dizzy, starving, and having poked your head into every room and around every corner. No Hitch, but you walked in on a lot of dry humping.

The last time you saw her, she was one of those dry humpers. She was all over some guy you guessed to be the reason she wanted to come to the party. Anyway, you were sure you’d catch his name tomorrow morning.

You were too distracted, too bubbly from the leftover New Year’s champagne, to see what was in front of you—even if he was rather tall, broad, and hard to miss. You didn’t even look twice as you walked past Eren. He’d only grabbed your attention once you heard your name, disappointed that the voice was too deep to belong to Hitch.

You spun around and the floor tilted with you. It took you a few steps to straighten back out, but once you did, your vision settled on Eren.

He gave you a lop-sided smile, serving as nothing more than a hesitant greeting. He only made it more awkward by throwing in a cheeky, “Long time, no see.”

You offered a chuckle that was only half-forced, the other half genuine simply because it was easy to impress anyone after they’d spent the night drinking.

And because you’d spent the night drinking, you felt all weird when you looked at Eren. You weren’t upset with him—maybe disappointed. Not disappointed in him exactly, he never owed you his kindness, but disappointed by what could have been.

But now that he was here, getting shoved closer and closer with each passerby, you didn’t know what to think other than you should’ve skipped that last drink. You’d hoped to feel more like yourself the next time you saw Eren. The last thing you wanted was to get tangled up in him again; you weren’t sure you’d be able to unravel yourself a second time.

Eren took a willing pace toward you. Your gaze was boozy, eyes hazy and distant. He recognized the look and had a feeling you wouldn’t speak first, so he asked, “Were you looking for someone?”

“Hitch,” you said. There was a pause. You weren’t sure if he remembered he’d met her. “My roommate.”

“I know.”

“We were supposed to leave to get food, but I think she took a guy home,” you told him, for no reason in particular. “Last time this happened, I walked in on them doing it on the counter.”

Eren laughed, harder once your face winced at the memory, a sight seared into your brain, for sure. “You should really consider finding a new roommate.”

“And in the meantime?”

“You come back to my place,” he said, so casually that you were positive you didn’t hear him right. Your face must have given you away, and he tried to play it off with a shrug. “What’s the big deal? You’ve slept on my couch before.”

He was right. You’d fallen asleep on his couch while studying once. Okay, twice. He teased you about it, saying you got drool everywhere.

“That’s different,” you said sheepishly. “That was an accident.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have fallen asleep in the first place,” he teased.

“Maybe you shouldn’t make your flashcards so boring!”

Eren liked his simple flashcards. He actually preferred them. Not everyone needed to spend more time color-coding and highlighting their flashcards than studying them.

He tilted his head with the sort of look that said, stop being so stubborn. "Fine. Then how about you tell me how to make them look nicer on the way to my place? I was just about to leave, anyway.”

He took a step backward, daring you to follow, and then another, until he turned on one foot and headed for the front door. He knew you’d follow him, and thoughtlessly, you did, trailing right behind.

You called out to him, “You don’t really need them now, do you? The class is over.”

“I just thought you might need ‘em.” Eren bounded down the porch steps, tossing a glance over his shoulder, ready to catch the expression you’d make when he said, “Figured you had to retake the class.”

You wished you had shoved him down the steps, but he had already crossed the lawn. He walked with longer strides than you and didn’t seem concerned about whether you could keep up.

“Thanks for that,” you replied begrudgingly.

“Anytime.”

It didn’t take long for you to near campus. You walked along the main drag, lined with various bars and late-night bites that thrived in the college town’s nightlife. It made it impossible to tell the time, what with every club still playing music loud enough to thrum in your chest, its beat perfectly in tempo with your every step—those of which were still struggling to match Eren’s.

“Did you still want to get food?” he asked.

“Hm?” You couldn’t hear him over your shuffling, your feet dragging against the sidewalk. They’d started hurting hours ago, and this jaunt certainly wasn’t making it better. You really shouldn’t have worn the new shoes you received over the holidays.

“You never listen, do you?” Eren didn’t say it with annoyance but with a laugh. “I’m surprised you’ve made it this far.”

“No, you just mumble a lot,” you defended. “And for your information, I’m not retaking anatomy. I passed with a C.”

“A C-plus or a C-minus?”

“Plus,” you said with inflated, drunken confidence.

“I’ll alert the media,” Eren replied. You stuck your tongue out at him, though you knew he wouldn’t see it. “Now tell me, did you still want to get food or not?”

“I didn’t think it was still an option.”

“‘Course it is.” He finally looked back at you from over his shoulder, just in time to watch you stumble over a crack in the sidewalk. “I think you could use something to eat.”

Eren rounded the next corner, a block short of the street he lived on, and led you a few doors down to a diner, breakfast served 24 hours. You expected to flag down a street vendor over sitting down to eat, but you couldn’t complain about some drunk pancakes.

Eren chose the booth in the back after the hostess instructed you to seat yourselves. The place was small and smelled of stale coffee—just as any diner would at this hour. And stale or not, you knew you’d need to down a mug or two if you wanted to sober up.

The server flipped your ceramic mug over and filled it to the brim. If it were nine in the morning, steam would pour out like it did in the movies, but you didn’t want to know how long this coffee had sat out.

You took it with cream, then dumped some sugar in, too. Reaching for a second packet, you caught Eren staring as you tore it open, hands folded around his mug.

“Something the matter?” you asked.

“Want any coffee with your sugar?”

“Ha-ha.” You added the sugar, now out of spite. When you took your first sip, it tasted as bitter as you expected.

Now that you were off your feet, the pain gnawed at you. You wiggled your shoes down, just enough for your heels to slip free from the backs. But it wasn’t enough. You couldn’t bear to keep them on another second—the diner was empty anyway. Once they were off, your feet pulsed as if they had their own heartbeat. 

The server took your order before disappearing again, only making rounds to offer a warm-up here or there, one of which you accepted. This time, when you added another packet of sugar, Eren kept his comments to himself. There was a lapse in conversation, one you spent fiddling with the paper scraps.

“You know,” he started. You peered up from the wad you’d rolled between your thumb and forefinger. He sat back in the booth, looking out the window with a quiet sort of chuckle. “I thought you hated me when we first met.”

You matched the laugh, yours more disbelieving. “Hated you? I don’t think I knew you enough to hate you.”

As if he were thinking aloud, he said, “You were always so quiet.”

“Being quiet doesn’t mean you hate someone.”

Eren’s eyes flashed from the window to you. “Then what does it mean?”

It was easier to talk to him when he wasn’t looking at you. His gaze felt smothering. You avoided him, your attention retreating down to the spoon you twirled anxiously around your mug. The clanging of ceramic was the only sound between you because you still hadn’t responded.

“I don’t know,” you said, hoping you would have come up with a more profound answer by now. “It just means you’re quiet, I guess.”

A short stack of pancakes interrupted Eren, slid right between the two of you and decorated with a gooey scoop of butter. He’d only ordered a coffee, even after you insisted on paying as a thank-you for tonight, so once the server left, Eren was quick to jump back into the conversation, much to your dismay.

“But you’re not quiet, and you’re not all that shy either,” he told you like he’d caught you in a lie. You urged him on with a raised brow. He scoffed. “Don’t give me that. I know that’s not you. I saw you dancing tonight.”

Your hand stalled as you reached for the syrup. “You saw me dancing?”

He played it off with, “Well, yeah. My so-called quiet lab partner actually knows how to dance? It just surprised me, that’s all.”

“If you saw me earlier,” you said, forking a slice of pancake, “why didn’t you come and say hi?”

Strike that—Eren almost played it off. He couldn’t hide his shifty eyes, or how long it took him to excuse it away. “Oh, I think someone grabbed me for a game of beer pong or something. I don’t remember.”

That never happened. Eren knew it, and it looked like you knew it, too. The truth was he didn’t go up and talk to you because he’d spent the last two weeks convincing himself he wasn’t into you. The party turned out to be the ultimate test of willpower, which he so evidently failed.

Eren even went as far as reinstalling all the dating apps he’d long sworn off. He dumbly assumed if he went on a date, maybe even brought a girl home, then he’d be in the clear; he wouldn’t think about you anymore. But by the time dinner was over, Eren knew there wasn’t any use in taking things further. He’d spent the evening comparing her to you, finding himself every time she laughed because it didn’t sound like yours.

Then he saw you tonight. Of course, he had to see you tonight. And of all the things you could have been doing, you were dancing. Having fun, enjoying yourself. He favored you like that, when you were carefree. You were nothing like the girl he thought he met in class.

And when Eren heard your laugh—strangely more remarkable than any other, like he’d gone deaf to anything but you—he couldn’t even remember why he tried to stay away from you.

But here you were, seated across the booth from him, cheeks stuffed with pancakes, and he had no clue what he was supposed to do next. He’d spent the entire walk wrangling with himself, scared that if he had you, even in the most innocent of ways, he wouldn’t be able to get enough.

Eren knew he shouldn’t be thinking like this, not yet, because—fuck, what if you still didn’t want him back?

Eren only lied about beer pong because he couldn’t outright confess to needing a drink before talking to you. He was so close to getting away with it, too. If you’d gone for another bite a second earlier, if he’d thought to take a sip of coffee to cover his face, maybe you wouldn’t have spotted the flushed bridge of his nose. So subtle yet telling enough that you had to bite your inner lip to prevent a smile.

You held your fork before your face, inspecting the square of pancake as a string of syrup dripped onto the plate. You were rather flippant about it when you finally told Eren, “It’s because I had a crush on you.” 

“Huh?”

You plopped the pancake into your mouth, chewing so slowly that it nearly killed Eren. Once you swallowed, you finally said, “I had a crush on you. That’s why I was so quiet.”

Eren said nothing in return, even with you staring him straight in the face, expectant. You waited—for what felt like an eternity but was more like a second—until you couldn’t take the ambivalence any longer.

Your half-laugh fell flat as you went on to explain, “That, and you always got better grades than me. I didn’t want you to think I was dumb.”

Almost as if he didn’t hear it, still fixed on what you’d said before, he asked, “Do you still?”

It was a simple question, just three words, yet he said so much more than intended.

You knew what he was asking, but you played dumb. “Still what?”

“Have a crush on me.”

You thought it over while you took another bite, eyes on him like he already had the answer. He did. You both did. Still, you let the question hang heavy between you for another moment. You weren’t entirely ready to lay your cards on the table. Yet.

You tossed him a small smile as you answered, “To be determined.”

Eren nodded once, lips folded together in a similar sort of grin. “Got it.”

That didn’t mean your answer satisfied him, though. He watched as you took another sip of coffee, then immediately reached for another sugar packet. Before you could pour it in, he shielded the mug.

“But you better figure it out before all that sugar kills you.”

You swatted him away. “Yeah, it’ll definitely be the sugar that kills me, not the keg stand I started the night with.”

“You did a keg stand?”

He said it like he didn’t believe you. You giggled, “Only because Hitch talked me into it.”

Eren laughed with you despite shaking his head. “See, what did I say? You surprise me.”

You had only taken a few hobbles out of the diner before your heels started hurting again. The pain intensified with every step, and you sucked your teeth sharply. You noticed two fresh blisters, one on each heel, when you put your shoes back on before leaving, but thought you could handle the short walk to Eren’s house. But now, you wished you were still drunk enough to ignore the burn.

“Everything okay back there?” Eren asked.

You were behind him again, but not because of his long strides. “Yeah.”

He thought it sounded unconvincing. He looked back to confirm his hunch just in time to see you stumble.

“It’s my shoes,” you said. “I’m sorry.”

He stopped walking, turning to you. “Why are you apologizing?”

You stammered, “I don’t know.”

“Just take ‘em off.”

“I’m not going to walk around barefoot.”

“Didn’t say you had to.”

You didn’t get what he was saying, even less when he turned his back to you. Then, when he bent slightly at the knee, it made sense.

He couldn’t be serious right now. 

“My house isn’t that far. I’ll carry you there.”

Okay. He was being serious. He was ready and willing to give you a piggyback ride.

You didn’t intend to laugh, but it was only because this situation was so ridiculous—and partly because of your own anxiety, fizzling at the thought alone.

Eren took it differently, shooting you a playfully offended look when he said, “What? You think I can’t carry you?” He straightened out, shoved his hands into his pockets, and began walking away. “Fine. Suit yourself.”

“Wait!”

You wanted to blame it on your feet or because you didn’t want to slow him down, but you had to be honest with yourself—aching feet or not, were you really going to pass on this opportunity?

Eren flashed a smile over his shoulder. “That’s what I thought.”

Ignoring his boasting, you ripped off your shoes. He took them from you in one hand, and then let you hop onto his back. His body didn’t give like you would expect, and his arms felt sturdy as they looped around your thighs.

You hadn’t had a piggyback ride since you were probably eleven years old, but you didn’t remember them feeling anything like this. Eren’s neck was warm against your arms, exceptionally so in the crisp night air. His hands were even hotter, having you convinced they’d sear themselves into the backs of your thighs.

He jostled you forward, higher onto his back. “Hold on tighter or else you’re gonna fall off.”

You hugged him, pressing your chest against his back. You’d never been this close to him before, close enough that his hair, only loosely tied back, brushed against your face. Faint notes of his cologne—warm like amber, but there was something you found refreshing about it—tickled your nose. You drew in closer, inhaling the scent, him. 

Eren worried you might have felt the roll of his throat when your breath broke over the nape of his neck. How embarrassing that something as innocent as a piggyback ride could send his heart racing. As if suddenly, he was back in junior high, and it was his first time holding a girl’s hand all over again.

If this was all he’d have of you tonight, or ever, he’d be happy with just that. Even if it meant he’d wake up with a sore back. He wanted to earn your heart, even if he wasn’t so sure your crush had ever gone away. 

The house was too dark for you to make out a thing. You stilled in the entryway, just behind Eren, and waited for him to walk ahead.

Not a second later, he flipped a light on from the kitchen. Your eyes adjusted after a few blinks, and he appeared again from around the corner. He wore a look of trepidation, staring at you like you were a lost puppy he’d taken in and didn’t know what to do with.

“Can I get you some water?”

“Sure,” you replied. “Thank you.”

He waved a hand toward the sofa, saying, “Make yourself at home,” before disappearing again. 

You’d hardly made yourself comfortable by the time he returned. You didn’t even realize how rigid your arms were until you uncrossed them to reach for the water bottle Eren handed you.

He sat on the other side of the old couch and it squeaked beneath his weight. 

“I imagine you wouldn’t want to sleep on the couch in a house full of guys,” he started, settling into the couch. “Take my room, if you want. I can sleep out here.”

You almost choked on your water, immediately shaking your head. “I’m not going to take your bed.” You couldn’t, possibly. You’d never even been in his room before. “You didn’t even need to go to the trouble of letting me stay the night.”

“Out of all my troubles,” Eren said with a certain warmth to his face, “you staying the night is the least of them.”

You smiled at him. You smiled at him, and you had no clue how it pulled at his heart. It was shy, no greater than a curl of the very corner of your mouth, yet he craved nothing more than to feel the shape of it under his lips and memorize the taste. 

“Okay.” You finally gave in. You could have ended it there, and you probably should have, but you nervously rambled on, “But, really, if it’s too much—if you want me to go, I can call a—”

“I don’t want you to go.”

You stammered, opening and closing your mouth as you pretended you had any clue what you’d say next. Something changed; you didn’t know what. An energy shift, a new glint in his eyes—that look he was giving you.

Maybe it was more accurate to say that everything had changed.

There wasn’t much air to your voice when you said, “I don’t want to go either.”

Your admission was barely a whisper. So delicate that Eren wasn’t even sure you intended to say it aloud. Your eyes were big and genuine, like you had revealed some vulnerable part of you. He couldn’t look away, risking losing what little composure you hadn’t stolen from him yet.

You liked him like that—getting to witness such an unguarded look on a face that was always hardened. Soft and electric, all at once. You never thought he’d look at you in such a way, only in your dreams, and you didn’t want it to end. 

Now or never.

“Eren?”

“Yeah?” His voice was just as taken as yours.

You knew yourself as anything but bold, but right then, you were. Purring your words when you asked him, “Why are you always so nice to me?”

The distant light from the kitchen cast shadows along the angles of his jaw, highlighting how it tensed.

“Am I?” Eren asked. His voice had gained a new rasp.

You nodded.

“How so?”

“You know,” you said slowly, knowingly, leaning into him. “You walk me home when I’m drunk. Carry me when my feet hurt.” You tucked your legs beneath you, sitting back on your calves, knees bumping up against his thigh. “You let me spend the night, even offer me your bed.”

Eren thought you might kiss him right then, but you only giggled. “Not to mention, you tutored me in anatomy for an entire semester without complaining once.”

You rested a daring hand on his leg. He looked from it to you before teasing, “I think I might’ve complained once.”

He moved with you, at your pace. He cupped your cheek, and you tried not to melt into him.

“But I can’t help myself.” His thumb traced over your skin. “You’re very cute when you’re drunk and when you’re proud of yourself for passing a quiz.” He unexpectedly grins. “And when you hold your book too close to your face when you read.”

“I don’t do that.”

“Yes, you do.” 

You didn’t press the subject any further because it didn’t matter; you were so close that the tips of your noses were nearly brushing against each other. With your face still in his hand, he swiped his thumb along your bottom lip. Unwittingly, you wetted them like you wanted a taste.

Neither of you wanted to be the first to crumble the wall, the one you spent a semester building together, so tall that there were times you couldn’t see over it.

You might have been feeling courageous, but you knew you’d regret it the next time you saw Eren on campus. You could see it now, the smug smile he’d give you from across the hall, or the far side of the green—wherever you’d inevitably bump into him again. He’d turn you into a puddle right on the spot. 

That didn’t concern you. Not after you heard the needful groan he stifled from the very back of his throat, and you desperately wanted to hear it again.

Eren caressed your face. You tilted into him until your forehead pressed against his, and you could feel his breath on your lips.

“I still have a crush on you,” you whispered.

“Yeah, I know.” He wasn’t cocky about it, but soft. He sounded relieved. 

Your hand left his thigh, traveling higher until you had it splayed against his chest. The muscles twitched beneath your touch. Eren couldn’t help but wonder if you knew what you were doing to him, how insane you’d driven him. You had to.

“So,” you said, long and drawn-out.

Your fingers toyed with the fabric of his shirt, the tips of them grazing and pinching like you wanted to yank him to you.

“Are you going to do something about it?”

Spoken like a true temptress, like a lioness playing with her food. You let your gaze linger intentionally long before locking onto his eyes.

Eren nearly gulped. “Fuck—c’mere.”

The hand he had on your face slipped higher. His fingers wrapped around the back of your head to pull you to him.

What you thought would be a crash of lips was much more affectionate. Instead of kissing you as if he believed he could make up for lost time, he kissed you softly, thoughtfully, like he knew he had all the time in the world with you now.

Your lips parted to invite his tongue in, hot and licking against your own. Your head spun, but not because of the alcohol. Attempting to ground yourself, you snatched a fistful of his shirt with a trembling hand. But the longer he made out with you, taking his time with seemingly no destination in mind, the more helpless you became.

“Eren.” It left you in a gasp, swallowed up before it had the chance to meet the air.

He angled your head slightly, exposing your neck for him to explore. He kissed the corner of your mouth, then your cheek. Then you felt his lips at the hollow below your ear, gasping as his teeth skimmed lower.

“Hm?” he hummed, unbothered. Like he was oblivious to how turned on you were, how just his breath against your skin had your thighs clenching.

“That’s why you didn’t want me to leave, right?” Your voice warbled as you spoke, eyes fluttering shut as he began mouthing along your neck, sucking like he wanted to leave a bruise. 

You palmed lower, over the front of his jeans. He was hard, straining against them, and you massaged over his length a few times. You waited and listened for his breath to falter before reaching for his zipper.

“Because you’ve thought about this before,” you murmured. With his jeans undone, you snuck your hand inside his boxer, wrapping your fingers around his cock. You nuzzled your face just below his jaw, peppering kisses, noting his quickening pulse as you began stroking him, base to tip. “Because you were hoping this would happen.”

“Yes,” Eren groaned. He would have tried to hold it back, but he was already staving off his urge to rut into your hand.

“I was, too,” you confessed.

That broke him. Before he knew it, he had you pinned between him and the couch.

Your back hit the cushion with another whine from the springs, louder and more obnoxious than before. When Eren kissed you this time, he didn’t want to take his time with you anymore. Not after hearing that you wanted him in the same ways he needed you.

The couch quickly became too cramped for your liking, with limbs slipping and spilling until you thought you might fall to the floor. Only when your kiss broke—because your head was dangling over the edge of the sofa—did you have a moment to catch your breath, or at least try to.

“You said,” you panted, collecting yourself. “You said I could sleep in your room.” Eren nodded, eyes hazy as he looked down at you. “Maybe you should show me to it now…”

He stalled, his brain short-circuiting for the obvious reason before he picked up on your heavy-handed implication.

“Yeah, okay.”

Eren helped you upright before you untangled yourselves from one another. You climbed the stairs in a hurry, tripping over your feet because you couldn’t imagine keeping your hands off each other. You followed just behind him, your hand in his, as he led you to his bedroom. 

Eren helped you upright before you untangled yourselves from one another. You climbed the stairs in a hurry, tripping over your feet because you couldn’t imagine keeping your hands off each other. You followed just behind him, your hand in his, as he led you to his bedroom.

His hands were reckless as they pawed over your body, anywhere they could. Yet his touch maintained a certain firmness that had you weak in the knees, struggling to suppress your whimpers. Each tiny sound seemed to encourage him, riling him until he had you braced against the door, slamming it shut with your combined weight.

Eren caged you in place, with forearms planted on either side of your head. But you would have stayed there, willingly. Forever, if you could.

You almost hated yourself for how submissive you felt to him. He kissed you commandingly, yet gently enough that he could take you anywhere he pleased.

You hated yourself more for getting turned on at just the thought. 

Taking his loose, unzipped jeans between your fingers, you tugged him close, hooking a leg around his waist. You felt his cock pressing between your legs, ground against it because if you didn’t, you thought you might explode; you were only human, after all.

Eren’s hands gripped your ass, helping you roll against him a few times before mumbling, “Bed?”

His voice was shallow, all breathless, like his lungs were running on empty. You liked this version of him—when he was needy for you. 

“Bed,” you affirmed with a bob of your head.

That was all it took before Eren scooped you into his arms, whirling you around until he had you collapsed onto the bed.

You sprawled out with a stretch of your back. It felt so good to lie amongst the billowy comforter, off your feet. You nestled around, almost like you could have lulled off right then—almost.

Eren turned on his bedside lamp, and though the light was dim, you felt keenly aware of his gaze on you as you peeled off your shirt. It bunched as you snaked it over your head, its slinky fabric hugging your body, revealing your bra with a subtle bounce of your tits. Every part of it, of you, was so shamefully sexy, Eren couldn’t get enough.

His hands closed over yours when you reached for the button of your jeans as if to tell you, let me do it. You allowed it, watching as he opened the front of them. His fingers glided along your stomach until he reached your hips. From there, he pulled the fitted denim down your legs. You kicked them to the side once they’d reached your ankles.

The sight of you, ready and beneath him, had him overwhelmed, to say the least. He didn’t know where to look—he didn’t even know where to start.

His fingertips, though lightly calloused, felt exceedingly gentle as he trailed them over your bare skin. So softly that if you closed your eyes, you might not even know he was there. He started just beneath the underwire of your bra, then down the length of your stomach. At your hip, his touch tickled, and you squirmed so cutely beneath him.

Eren wanted to say something witty, but the sight of you stirring below him had him spacey, leaving him quiet. Even the chuckle he gave was practically inaudible, just a huff through his nose. 

Despite the fog, Eren had a fleeting moment of lucidity. He blinked, hard, like it would clear his head. You struggled to read him, staring at you like you’d given him reason to be suspicious.

Then he asked, “How are you?”

You mirrored his suspicion, eyebrows knitting together. “I’m good. Um, how are you?” 

His face scrunched like he was about to say, not good. It made you nervous.

You perched on your elbows, interested, waiting on him. He ran his fingers through his hair, the same way he always did when he was trying to concentrate.

“We’re a little past exchanging pleasantries, don’t you think?” you joked, mainly because you didn’t know what else you were supposed to say.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Eren brought his hand to his forehead like he could capture his thoughts before they slipped away. “Like, I mean—” Coherency was hard, especially with you laid out before him, head tilted with curiosity, staring up at him through pretty, heavy lashes. Had they always been that long?

Finally, he blurted out, “Are you still drunk?”

You were relieved to learn nothing was wrong. You thought over your answer, taking inventory of your body, every fiber of your being only wanting him.

“Not really,” you said with a slight shrug. “Those pancakes were a real lifesaver.”

He still looked hesitant. You took his hand, giving it a small squeeze before smiling at him. “I want this. Like really, really want this.”

Eren let out a short laugh that softened you up even more. With your assurance, his fingers began dancing along your skin again, pulling lightly at the band of your underwear. He played with it, his once-boyish expression turning more brazen as he asked, “Then is it okay for me to touch you here?” 

His voice was gruff, the timbre of it still ringing between your ears. You couldn’t help the sound it pulled from you. A sweet little moan, so delicious that Eren felt his cock twitch before he could even remove your underwear.

“Yes,” you murmured, eyes fixed on him, on his fingers. They pushed beneath your panties despite your hope that he’d simply take them off.

That single, breathy word gave Eren the go-ahead. He crawled over you, holding himself up with his free hand. Propped on your elbows, your face was inches away from his. So close that with just the tilt of your head, you were kissing him again. 

Eren’s fingers ventured lower, sweeping between you teasingly, but it was as if he was teasing himself.

"You’re so wet,” he groaned, still playing with you. He’d circle your clit until your jaw went slack, then remove the pressure just to trace your entrance. “All for me?”

“Mhm.” You exhaled indulgently when his fingers returned to your clit, rubbing languidly. When you lifted your hips for more, his circles became tighter, quicker, giving you exactly what you needed. You let go then, allowing your wobbly elbows to give out.

Eren chased after you, nipping down your neck until he found the spot he’d learned you liked best, especially when he sucked on it. He yanked a sharp whine from you, another as he continued leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses along your throat.

Eren, Eren, Eren. You were consumed by thoughts of him, only him. Consumed by how good he made you feel and every place you wanted him.

And when you cried out, “Ah—all for you,” you certainly weren’t thinking about how desperate you sounded for a guy who’d been nothing more than your lab partner until tonight. 

That did it for him. In one impulsive motion, Eren stood up straight, hooked his fingers around the band of your panties, and tore them off with ease. Once they were out of his way, lost amongst your other garments, his hand was rightfully back between your legs.

He pumped his middle finger inside you first, curling it just right to have your back arching, your breath already hitching in your throat.

You thought he’d be arrogant about it, how he already had you, quite literally, bending to his will. But he’d already lost himself in you, every bit of you. Your tiny gasps, spilling from kiss-swollen lips. Your bra and the way its straps had limply started falling down your shoulder, exposing the supple skin of your chest. How pretty your cunt looked, taking his finger.

His pace ignited that familiar feeling within you, but as quickly as it started burning in your stomach, you’d lost it just as fast. 

With a frustrated sob, you opened your eyes to see why he’d rudely edged you like that.

Eren yanked his shirt over his head and threw it aside. “I wanna go down on you.”

You felt his words hot at the back of your neck—either that or it was the sight of his deceivingly toned stomach. Whatever it was, you couldn’t decide before Eren started stripping from his jeans. And if you were still unsure why you’d clammed up, the tent in his boxers, large and threatening to undo you, was most certainly it.

You tried your best to look at his face when you asked, “Don’t you think we should be fast? All of your roommates are home.”

That was the last thing Eren wanted. He wanted to have you, all to himself, for as long as you’d allow. But that was easy for him to say now; his willpower had already started waning.

“They’re sleeping. Don’t worry about them.” Eren thumbed circles against your inner thigh encouragingly, making it difficult to say no to him. At least until he cracked his usual devilish smile. “I thought you said you were quiet.”

The daggers you shot him said enough. You had only started to quip something back when Eren shut you up. He leaned over you, encasing you in his warmth. You felt his lips, his tongue, at your neck, running along the silky skin.

He sucked at the lobe of your ear, and the airy giggle you gave traveled straight to his cock. He kissed your collarbone as he tugged down the cups of your bra. Though his breath was warm, it sent goosebumps scattering across your chest. His tongue flicked over one of your perked nipples, and you rewarded him with a moan—even louder once he took it into his mouth.

You were so, so sensitive. All for him, too. Eren craved to discover every nook on your body he could kiss and every sound you’d make in response. He wanted to learn every last part of you, especially the ones that would have you wrecked. 

He continued kissing down your stomach, with him lowering to his knees on the ground. Taking your legs, one in each hand, he pulled them back to make room to settle between. He placed them over his shoulders, bringing you in until your bottom half hung off the side of the bed.

Eren palmed over your thighs. He left kisses there, too, his lips so close to where you wanted him the most.

“Let me taste you.” His voice was a quiet plead. He pressed a kiss against your inner thigh, then another, with his eyes fluttering shut like he wanted to savor you. “Please.”

You’d lost your voice somewhere in your throat. You could only nod in response—a bit too eagerly, perhaps. Eren gleamed up at you. He clearly wanted to smirk but was smart enough not to risk it this time. 

You’d felt only his breath at first. It quelled the chill bedroom air. Next, it was the very tip of his tongue. Pointed, it ran through you, painfully slow but still enough for you to suck in a breath between your teeth.

“Spread your legs wider for me.” You did as you were told, completely at his mercy. It must have pleased him because you swore you felt him grin against you as he praised, “Good girl.”

You made an embarrassing sound at that. One you didn’t expect. Eren surely didn’t expect it either, but it excited him, knowing how you were weak to his words, to his voice. To him.

With you now fully on display for him, he couldn’t resist burying his face into you, even if he had fully intended to tease you longer. His tongue flicked your clit, sending pulses of electricity shooting up your spine.

You shifted your hips, raising them to meet his mouth. His tongue was steady, never slowing once as he leaned into a rhythm you liked, that had your fingers laced in his hair and undoing his bun. With just a little more, angling and guiding his tongue to just the right spot, it was like you suddenly saw sparks of white behind your eyelids. 

“Eren—ah,” you panted frantically, “right there.”

He had the flat of his tongue against your clit, lapping in tandem with your rocking hips until your thighs began shaking.

“I got you,” he said, wrapping his arms around your legs and locking you into place. “Just relax for me.”

Eren continued having you feverishly, filling the bedroom with a mixture of your wispy cries and groans of his own. It was as if he was just as desperate for you to come as you felt, worshipping every squeak and squirm he could get from you.

“I-I’m—”

His eyes meet yours. You looked breathless, your mouth hanging open in a vain attempt at pulling in tattered breaths. When he let go of your thighs, they dropped to his shoulders.

Not breaking his pace, his thumb replaced his tongue so he could ask, “You need more?”

You swallowed hard and nodded.

“You want my fingers?” His thumb left your clit. You mourned the loss only for him to trace a finger down your entrance before dipping it inside you.

“Oh, fuck.” You writhed in response. “Yes.”

He used two fingers this time, collecting his spit and your slick before pushing them inside you. There was little resistance as he worked his fingers in and out of you. He returned to tonguing your clit, giving it a few kitten licks before picking up right where he left off.

You were getting close, so close, and if time could allow for it, you would have stayed like that forever, just shy of becoming entirely undone. 

There were many times, admittedly, when you imagined Eren having his way with you, wondering what it’d feel like for him to finger and fuck you. But never did you think he’d beg to have you like this, nor did you imagine the sight to absolutely ruin you. 

There were many times, admittedly, when you imagined Eren having his way with you, wondering what it’d feel like for him to finger and fuck you. But never did you think he’d beg to have you like this, nor did you imagine the sight to absolutely ruin you.

Eren’s face flushed a blossomy pink, spanning across his cheeks. You were so wet; he was so wet. Soaked, actually, in your arousal—a mess you might have cared more about if you weren’t about to come.

His green eyes, darkened like you’d never seen before, found yours, and he moaned. He felt pathetic for it, but what had him feeling even more pathetic was how he couldn’t stop himself from shoving his boxers down his thighs. He took hold of himself, seeking any semblance of relief because you were possibly the hottest thing he’d ever seen. But he knew you’d look even better coming on his tongue.

You whimpered when you saw him fisting his cock, nice and fast. He was so hard for you, and you weren’t shy about staring. You couldn’t even fake it, too curious to see exactly how he liked it, watching him fuck his fist with quick breaks to give extra attention to his sensitive tip. You thought about how he’d fuck you, how he’d like it then, and it sent you over the edge.

Your cries came out choppy and strained until your voice cut out entirely. You sobbed silently, carelessly, rolling your hips over Eren’s tongue and using him. You wanted to drag out the feeling for as long as you could. By the end, you were quivering, exhausted, and could no longer keep your eyes open.

Eren had to stop pumping himself, or else he would have come from that alone. He sat back onto his calves, one of his hands palming over your thigh while the other soothed your clit, just to ease you back down. You looked like you needed it, all wrecked, legs limply spread for him, just like he hoped.

God, he annoyed himself for pretending he never wanted you because you—you were a dream.

The only thing that could wake him from such a dream was your voice.

“Eren?”

He loved it when you said his name.

You sat up to look at him properly, but it felt like there were a ton of bricks on your chest. Eren appeared quite the opposite, entirely unfazed. He had his cheek smushed against your thigh, staring unabashedly at the finger he lazily pushed back inside you. You jolted at the intrusion, still sensitive; he could tell by the way your muscles spasmed around his finger.

The feeling mesmerized him: you sucking him in for more. He didn’t even look at you when he replied, “Hm?”

You would’ve thought knowing his eyes were on you would embarrass you, but you were still so touchy from your orgasm that the winding feeling had already returned. It coiled in your stomach, begging to be snapped again.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Eren loved hearing that even more.

He finally looked at you then, and you imagined that if he were a dog, his ears would have perked up like you said the magic words.

“What was that?” he asked, more playfully than you expected. You didn’t like it, not with the grin he wore to match. “I couldn’t hear you. You were mumbling.”

“You heard me the first time.”

He ran his finger teasingly up the crease of your thigh. “Say it again.”

It tickled. You fussed, “Eren, come on—”

“No, I don’t think that was it. I think you said something else.”

“Just—” You sighed dramatically before giving in. “I want you to fuck me. Please fuck me, Eren.”

He beamed at you, proud of both you and himself. He grabbed his boxers, still sitting mid-thigh, and removed them entirely.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Eren stood up and didn’t give you the chance to respond before flipping you onto your stomach. You felt his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. His fingers skated lower, down to your bra before undoing its clasp. When you pushed yourself to your forearms, you felt your bra fall, its straps hanging loosely around your arms.

“You look so pretty like this,” he told you as he grabbed your hips, raising you to your knees. He stroked himself a few more times with one hand and smacked your ass with the other.

“Eren!” you yelped. “Roommates!”

“I thought I told you not to worry about them,” he said, punctuated with another smack.

The print of his hand still stung when you heard rustling behind you. You peered over your shoulder to see him tearing open a condom. He rolled it over his cock, and all the while, his eyes kept you—naked and with your ass in the air for him—pinned to the bed. 

He flattened a hand against your lower back, putting an arch in it. With the other, he spread you, aligning the tip of his cock with your entrance.

Eren guided himself in more slowly than he wanted to, listening to you whine as you adjusted to his length. It was a bit of a stretch, but it was easy enough for him to push inside, having already prepped you with his fingers, leaving you aching for him to fill you with more.

When his pelvis was flush against you, he felt your walls flutter around him, squeezing his cock so perfectly he thought you must be made for him. A groan bubbled in his throat, low enough that it was nearly a growl. The sound made your heart skip, right between your lungs, so you clenched again to encourage another.

“You’re gonna make me come if you keep doing that,” Eren hissed.

“Doing what?” you asked innocently. Then you did it again.

Despite the warning, he didn’t protest it. Instead, he started moving, thrusting into you leisurely. He was self-indulgent about it too, spreading you with his hands so he could admire how well your cunt looked with his cock in it.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” he muttered, quiet enough that it was as if he were talking to himself. “So fucking good.”

“Eren.” The whine in your voice drove him crazy.

His hands, large and demanding, curved over your hips. The blunt end of his nails dug into the fat of them as he pulled you back to meet every snap of his hips. The indecent smacking of skin-on-skin bounced off the bedroom walls. You didn’t complain this time, only let your head drop between your shoulders. Your eyes screwed shut as you became lost in the throes of pleasure all over again.

“Eren,” you cried again.

He didn’t stop fucking you to ask, “What is it?” 

He folded over you, his hand snaking up to your neck and taking hold of your chin. He turned your face to look at him, so he could see what you wanted. You couldn’t form anything other than wimpy chants of ah, ah, ah, sounding mangled as he squished your cheeks.

“Tell me how you want it.”

His words alone made you bite back a moan.

Finally, you managed to say, “Harder.”

Eren smiled, all slack-jawed and toothy. You would have found it irresistible, yet totally ill-fitting if you could have seen it. But how else was he to react?

He placed a kiss on the back of your neck, then another on your shoulder. It was unexpectedly doting, until you felt his fingers curve around your throat. Though you knew what was coming, you still squealed when he hoisted you upright, with your back sealed against his chest. 

Eren held you there, fucking up into you, harder, like you asked him. Your flimsy bra flopped around your arms with each of his thrusts. He groped at your breast, taking your nipple between his fingers, rolling and pinching at it until you were mewling.

He continued taking you as if you’d always been his, and you let him have you. You let him use you like you only existed for his pleasure, with your head feeling heavy as it lolled back against him.

But you were so much more than that, and Eren was determined to make you come again. He wanted to feel it.

“Touch yourself,” Eren breathed, right into your ear. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. “I want to hear you when you come this time.”

Your hand slithered between your legs. The very tips of your fingers bumped into Eren’s cock as you got yourself off. Legs wavering at the added pressure, you were practically vibrating when you came, your heart pounding in your ears. There was no doubt he heard you this time around.

It was difficult to remain upright. You fell from Eren’s hold, landing on the bed forcefully with him toppling right over you. You were still riding out the aftershocks of your orgasm as he fucked you into the mattress, and it had your thighs squeezing together so nicely for him.

“I’m—ah, fuck—I’m close,” Eren grunted.

It surprised you when he pulled out, but it didn’t take long before you realized he was rolling you onto your back. Eren manhandled you like you were weightless; he had your arms tossed above your head, pinned in place with a single hand around your wrist. He pushed back inside you, hard and fast, with a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead.

“I need to see you.”

Your stomach flipped at his words like they were poetry. Fuck. He had you so irrevocably wrapped around his finger. And maybe you were merely lovelorn and looking for something that wasn’t there, but you swore he looked as though he were just as ensnared as you.

Your mouth sought out his in a sloppy kiss. It was suckling lips and colliding teeth, smothered grunts and groans as you ground against one another, but you didn’t care; you enjoyed every messy, frantic minute of it.

You wanted to touch him, wriggling until he released his hold on your wrists. You took his face between your hands. His eyes were moony and heavy-lidded and had you swooning.

“Fuck, Eren—I want you to come,” you gasped.

Easy enough.

He came hard. As perverted as it sounded, you wished you had a camera. You wanted to remember how his eyes snapped shut, to record every sound. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his hips stuttering against you as if he could reach any deeper. 

His breath was hot against your already sweltering skin. It was hard to breathe, especially under his weight, but you wanted to hold him for a little longer.

Neither of you spoke for a while. You didn’t realize you’d been grazing your fingers up and down the back of his neck until he lifted himself off you. He let his gaze linger on your face, like he wanted one last look, then nudged his nose against yours before getting up.

You laid still, only watching while Eren straightened out and disposed of the condom. Your legs felt too soft and lazy to move, so you only let your eyes follow him as he stepped into a pair of sweatpants.

"The invitation to stay the night still stands, right?” you lightly sassed.

“No, I was actually going to call you an Uber home.” Eren rolled his eyes. “Of course it does. What kind of guy do you think I am?”

You giggled as you pushed yourself up. “Where’s your bathroom?”

“Down the hallway, last door on the right.” He took one look at you, then started digging around in his dresser. He tossed something at you, aiming it at your head by the looks of it. You snatched it just in time. It was one of his T-shirts. “You can wear that.”

You held it by the sleeves, inspecting it. “Is that weird?”

“It wasn’t until you asked that.” 

You pulled the tee over your head before adjusting it. Your underwear came next, but you felt more hesitant about the jeans.

Eren noticed, assuring you, “They’re sleeping, I promise,” as he put on a shirt of his own. “Just be quick.”

“Okay.” You left, but poked your head back in to say, “I’m leaving the door cracked so I know which room is yours.”

He laughed. “All right.”

You followed his instructions, even trying to be quick about it, too. You peed, washed your hands, and only stared at your bruising collarbone for ten seconds before rushing back down the hall.

Eren was in bed when he saw the door swing open. “Look at you, Ms. C-plus, not getting lost.”

You pulled a face. “Whatever, Brian.”

Right on cue, he complained, “It was one time.” You mouthed it along with him. 

For whatever reason, you didn’t crawl into bed with him right away. You felt a bit like a deer in headlights, blinking at Eren as you waited for something. You didn’t know what. He looked sleepy, with his hair still unkempt from your fingers. Seeing him like this, with you dressed in his shirt, about to curl up under his sheets—were you supposed to go along with this like it was normal?

When you finally thought of something to say, Eren cut in first. “You can’t seriously try to take the couch after that.”

That was exactly what you were about to do. He chuckled, knowing he was right by the purse of your lips. He lifted the blanket for you—once again, like this was entirely normal for you—and said, “Get over here already. I’m cold.”

Eren was extremely difficult to say no to, but you knew that already. You got into his bed with no contest and let him lay the comforter over you.

Either his pillows were just that soft or you felt that exhausted because your eyes went heavy almost immediately. Eren reached over you to turn out the light, but let his arm fall on top of you. He hugged your waist, not hesitating to pull you into him.

He nuzzled into the back of your neck, pulling a giggle from you. “Are you always this clingy after sex?”

Eren hummed an affirmative sound, tickling you again.He was most definitely never this clingy after sex. But there was no way he could keep his hands to himself, not with how good you looked in his shirt, just barely long enough to cover anything. Maybe his intentions in lending you a shirt weren’t entirely pure—so sue him. You wearing his clothes was a sight he could get used to. One he had a feeling he’d get to see much more often.

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut #eren fluff #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader

[uvobreakmylegs]

A Rock and a Hard Place

Hisoka comes across a wayward darling

Hisoka x reader (with tiny bits of Chrollo x reader)

Warnings: gore, blood, graphic depictions of violence, murder, asphyxiation, kidnapping, manipulation, abuse, mentions of captivity, mentions of potential noncon

Word count: 10.8k

Dusk had long since fallen when Hisoka boarded the train alongside a dozen others, some already looking weary as they anticipated a long and boring journey that would take over the next few hours, and others not looking as bothered as their stop wasn't too far away.

Hisoka was among the group that would be on the train for a while; his destination was several hours away across the Saherta border, and as the magician settled down in an open seat, his unhappy mood could be seen by anyone as he leaned his head against the headrest.

Today had been a disappointment.

He thought he'd found an interesting fighter, as whispers of a formidable man within the Irnamur region had reached his ears. A man who was able to manipulate parts of his own body and turn his flesh and bones into blades or claws or whatever he saw fit, in essence turning himself into a living weapon. Someone like that should've been a worthy opponent, one who would give Hisoka that thrill he constantly sought when he found nen users who were exceptional.

It turned out to be a farce.

The instant Hisoka revealed himself the man ran away, and once he had been cornered, the man begged for his life and explained that his power wasn't what it seemed: he couldn't actually manipulate his body into weaponry, the only thing his ability could do was make his victims see what he wanted them to see, and all of it was just a scheme to con non-nen users out of their jenny and to keep them from going to law enforcement when he threatened them. He'd never intended on someone actually proficient in nen to confront him.

The sight of the con artist crying and begging for his life combined with the fact that he had pissed himself from fear had Hisoka's mood hit rock bottom, and he left the man where he was, though not before taking one of his cards and slicing it through the man's eyes for wasting his time. The magician left the pathetic man writhing on the ground as he clutched at his bleeding face.

Hisoka pulled out his phone to scroll through it as he waited for the train to start moving, other passengers walking by and not sparing more than a glance in his direction as they looked for their own places to sit. The type of clothing he usually wore normally turned a lot of heads, but since Hisoka had his hair down without his makeup and was dressed in a casual outfit of hoodie and jeans, he was easily able to blend in with the rest of those on board.

In a few hours, he would have returned to the place he currently called “home”, and from there he could forget about this whole incident. Hopefully the next individual to pique his interest would be someone more worthwhile of his time.

Or perhaps he might see Chrollo again.

At the thought of the illusive leader of the Phantom Troupe, Hisoka opened up his text messages. Machi was usually the one who contacted him when the troupe was meeting up, and though there weren't any new messages from her, he wanted to get a look at the last time she had gotten in touch.

It was a few months ago, he saw, looking at the date next to the message she had sent. It was hard to tell based on that alone when the troupe would reconvene. He could easily receive a message tonight telling him to meet the following week, or it could be several more months before he would hear anything in regards to a new job. While Hisoka could message Machi to ask about any upcoming work, she never responded to any of his texts. And ultimately, it was useless to ask her as the only one who knew for certain what would be coming next was Chrollo.

All Hisoka could do was wait for the next message to be sent.

Placing the phone back in his pocket, he couldn't help but let out a disappointed sigh as he settled into his seat, staring out at the window next to him while a majority of the other passengers were still milling about. He could always see if Illumi was up to anything interesting, he noted to himself.

A few minutes later the train began to move, and as the speed steadily picked up and the moon shown down on the grassy plains outside the window, Hisoka closed his eyes as he decided to rest a little during the journey.

Unfortunately, only a few miles in his rest was interrupted by one of the worst things anyone could encounter on public transport:

A crying toddler.

Though it sounded more like wailing and screaming, and the sound of the child's voice carried throughout the entire train car while the child's parents seemingly did nothing to try and console them. Perhaps they allowed the child to continue as they were just to give everyone else a taste of what they dealt with on a daily basis.

Hisoka was inclined to say that he could tolerate quite a lot and was generally unbothered by such things, but today he didn't feel quite as patient this time, finding himself becoming more than a little irritated at all of the noise. When the child continued to cry for a period of several minutes without any sign of losing breath, Hisoka felt that his limit had been reached. He got out of his seat, grabbed his bag and walked into the aisle as he headed for the car behind him.

Once the door shut and the crying could no longer be heard, Hisoka let out the smallest sigh of relief, happy that the enclosed area between the cars was largely quiet, as was the next car he walked into. The new problem he now faced was that there was no room for him there, with all of the seats being taken up, and so he continued to the next car only to find a similar situation.

When he made his way for a third car was when there was something that was slightly of note: a man standing in the area between the carriages was making a phone call. The brunette with messy shoulder length hair looked over to him when the door opened, then turned away, his voice becoming a bit more hushed while Hisoka took the time to close the door behind him.

“They haven't noticed anything,” Hisoka overheard the man say.

Though the magician was barely paying attention and already halfway towards the next door, having walked by the man on the phone without even a second glance. His focus was on the widow that lead to the next car. That one didn't seem to be as full; hopefully there would be no screaming children in-

“Yes, Chroll – uh, I mean, Mr. Lucilfer.”

The utterance of that name had Hisoka stop in his tracks, and he looked back to the man on the phone who was currently nodding along to whatever was being said to him.

The likelihood of anyone other than the Chrollo he knew being on the other end of that line was less than one percent.

It wasn't as though it was a common name.

Hisoka stepped to the side, pulling out his own phone and acting as though he was also there to make a call so as to avoid arousing suspicion from the other passenger. Putting the phone up to his ear, the magician glanced back again to the man, who was speaking again.

“The train got a little delayed at the last station, but they didn't seem concerned when I last checked on them,” he said, “as long as there aren't anymore delays, we should pull into Merchester at 9:30 – er, 21:30.”

The man's voice was even more hushed when he next asked “you'll have it with you when we get there, right?”

Whatever was being said now, Hisoka couldn't hear. A shame. He really wanted to know what Chrollo was telling him. But with the distance between them, Hisoka heard nothing and watched on as the man was nodding along again.

What exactly did Chrollo want with him?

Hisoka looked away, still acting as though he was waiting for a call to get through while he wondered over what exactly was going on. To his knowledge, Chrollo would on occasion hire random people for jobs, usually ones that he knew he could control by offering them large sums of jenny. The reason the boss did such things tended to be that the tasks were simply too menial to bother the other members of the troupe with, but sometimes there was purpose beyond that.

As he was only able to hear one half of the conversation, it was hard to tell why exactly this man had been chosen by Chrollo. Or why Chrollo was in contact with him to begin with.

Only a few moments later, the man had put away his phone and was heading into the car Hisoka had been heading for. The magician felt the man's gaze in his back as he passed by, though that ended when Hisoka began to speak, acting as though his call had finally gotten through. The man left shortly after that, not saying a word.

Waiting a few moments after the door slid shut, he took a step back and looked into the next car through the window, watching as the man walked down the aisle.

He caught the moment when the man turned his head to look at someone sitting in one of the seats towards the middle of the car. Even from his vantage point, Hisoka was able to note that the man gave that person an encouraging smile before he continued along his way. Despite not knowing exactly what was happening, the magician was intrigued.

If it involved Chrollo, he wanted to know more.

When the man had reached the end of the car and taken his own seat was when Hisoka entered. Now luck was on his side as there were plenty of open seats available. Better yet, the area where the man had paused moments before seemed to be free of people, with the exception of the person the man had looked at, of whom Hisoka could only see the top of their head from where he currently stood.

The disappointment that had weighed him down when he first got onto the train was now forgotten as Hisoka walked forward, curious as to what exactly he had stumbled across.

He continued until he neared the point where the man had stopped, and then he saw you.

Hisoka's first thought was that you were unremarkable.

The second was that you looked tired as you leaned against the window, clutching a backpack you had resting on your lap. There was a slight frown on your face and your eyes seeming distant as you looked out at the landscape that went by. Though you weren't as distracted as you appeared to be as you turned your gaze towards him once you realized he was there, and it was impossible to miss the guarded look in your eye.

Hisoka acted as though he didn't notice while he took a seat in the row opposite you. Your gaze stayed on him for a few moments longer while he set his bag on the seat next to him, and from the corner of his eye, he saw the way your eyebrows furrowed. As if you were trying to remember where you had seen him.

Oddly enough, the magician had a strange feeling as though he had seen you before as well.

Hisoka kept his eyes on the phone that he pulled out once again until he sensed that your gaze had shifted once more, and when he looked back, he found you staring out the window again. Though you didn't seem to be a nen user, you were aware enough to keep an eye on your surroundings, glancing around your general area every now and then, although the glances may not have been as subtle as you thought they were.

Leaning back into his seat, Hisoka mused about you, still uncertain about the whole situation. You were clearly nervous, looking up at everyone who occasionally walked past you and acting guilty just sitting in your seat. Almost as though you were expecting someone would eventually show up and you would need to make a run for it.

“They haven't noticed anything”

The words the man spoke earlier came to mind, and now he wondered: did you even know you were being taken to Chrollo? It was hard to tell based on that alone, but your behavior combined with what he had overheard earlier made it seem like a possibility.

But what for?

Did this have to do with the troupe? Under normal circumstances Hisoka may have thought that was the case, but he had actually showed up to the last meeting and there had been no mention of bringing anyone in. And as far as he knew, there hadn't been any meetings after that one, so he didn't think he had missed anything.

If it wasn't for the troupe, then perhaps it was personal reasons.

But what sort of personal reasons could Chrollo have that involved you?

Hisoka kept an eye on you. And the longer he did so, the more the nagging feeling that he had definitely seen you before grew on him.

Minutes passed by with nothing happening; you didn't move from your seat, the man hadn't checked in on you, and the cogs in Hisoka's mind were still turning as he tried to understand what exactly was going on. Your gaze was still on the view outside, dark circles beneath your eyes while you listlessly watched through the window.

That expression on your face….. He had definitely seen it before.

But where?

The answer to that question continued to elude him.

Then half an hour went by. As much as he wanted to ask you for details on what was going on, he chose to keep quiet for now, waiting to see if your companion would join you at any point and he might learn a bit more about what was going on that way. So Hisoka kept an eye on you while you grew more tired, becoming less alert as time went on. Still, you fought to keep alert, shaking your head every now and then as if to keep the sleepiness out of your brain. Your companion stayed where he was.

After minutes of nothing happening, Hisoka checked his phone for the time. In less than an hour, the train would reach Merchester, your apparent destination where Chrollo was waiting for you.

At that point your companion moved, getting up from his seat with his phone in hand as he walked by where you sat again. While you didn't say anything to him, the two of you made eye contact as he passed by. You gave him a hopeful smile which he returned, and as he walked back to the area between the cars, you seemed a bit less tense, like a wave of relief had washed over you as you leaned further into your seat. In doing so, a bit of your clothing shifted, allowing Hisoka a clear view of your neck. From where he was sitting, Hisoka could clearly see the markings on your skin. The discolored blotches that decorated your neck and went up too high for you to cover completely. Hickeys that had been left in such a way so you couldn't cover them up.

You were very aware of that fact, as only a moment later you sat up straight, your hand going to cover your neck while you nervously glanced over at him. Hisoka once more feigned obliviousness, and while you did relax slightly, you were back to how you had been when he had first entered the car: tense and on guard.

When your hand finally left your neck, you wrapped both of your arms around your backpack while you turned your head downwards, and in that moment, there were two very clear emotions coming through in your body language and the look he could see in your eyes:

Shame and helplessness.

And with that, a memory returned to him.

He was right. He had seen you before.

Back at Heavens Arena.

The elevator on the 200th floor had stopped for him, and much to the magician's surprise, Chrollo had been standing in the car. Two others were there as well: Shizuku, and you. You were standing in the far corner with your head facing down with one broken arm hanging in a sling. Though Hisoka barely noticed either of you when he stepped through the elevator doors as he was much more interested in how he had managed to run into Chrollo so unexpectedly.

The two members of the troupe seemed just as surprised to see him, and while Chrollo had given the magician a polite greeting, Shizuku ended up carrying on what became a conversation regarding Hisoka's history at the tower, which then managed to transition into a discussion about make-up and how well the brand he used lasted in fights. Since there had been no way to get to Chrollo in that moment, Hisoka had obliged, the time during the long ride down being the longest he had ever spoken to her.

All the while Hisoka felt taunted by the fact that Chrollo was right there and he couldn't do anything about it.

He'd noted that something felt a bit off about Chrollo, however. While Shizuku seemed to be acting normal enough, it felt as though something was simmering beneath Chrollo's cool exterior. Something that possibly resembled anger.

You went largely unnoticed by him still, and if he had bothered to think much about you, Hisoka's only assumption would have been that you just happened to get onto the elevator before the other two did.

So it was a surprise when the instant the elevator finally reached the ground floor Chrollo reached back to take the hand of your uninjured arm and led you through the doors. The way he had grabbed you had also been far more forceful than he ever would have expected from the Phantom Troupe leader.

Your eyes met his for a moment when you glanced over as you passed him, and the emotion he saw in them was that of pure misery.

“Who is that?” Hisoka had asked Shizuku as Chrollo led you away.

“Someone boss is invested in,” she replied.

“Is he? He doesn't seem very happy with them.”Shizuku simply shrugged in response.

While he had gotten the sense she was withholding information, he ultimately didn't care about you. Hisoka assumed that you were part of some smaller scheme being carried out by a few select members of the troupe; perhaps a hostage or someone being carted off to Feitan for information. Either way, you weren't important.

Or so he had thought.

Because here you were all this time later, still alive and on your way to Chrollo.

Chrollo, who, as Shizuku had said, was invested in you. And if boss really was the one who had made those marks on your neck, the reasons he wanted you were more personal than he initially realized.

They haven't noticed anything

The man's words from earlier replayed in his head as he put all of the information together and Hisoka smirked to himself as he now understood what was going on:

This was a runaway attempt by an unwilling lover, one in which you had reached out to someone that you thought was outside of Chrollo's sphere of influence. But your trust had clearly been misplaced as the man had sold you out, and now this escape of yours was going to end in tragedy once you stepped off the train and found your kidnapper waiting for you.

If it stayed the current course, that was.

Hisoka collected his bag as he stood back up.

You looked up immediately when he did that, and when Hisoka tossed his bag across the way and sat down in the seat opposite yours, worry overtook you. You sat up straighter still, clutching at your backpack while you looked him over, trying to figure out what was going on.

The look of worry on your face only worsened when he smiled at you.

The two of you stared at each other for a few moments before you finally spoke up.

“Do you need something?” you asked, though you kept your voice down, likely for the sake of not drawing attention to yourself.

“Not especially,” he answered, also keeping his voice low as he continued with “I wanted to sit here.”

“Weren't you already sitting?” you asked, your brow going up as you looked at him suspiciously.

“I decided to move over here. Is that so strange?”

“This late in the journey? Yeah, it is.”

You kept your eyes on him for the most part, though he noticed the quick glances about you, like you thought someone else would come and trap you.

“I thought you could use some company,” Hisoka said, “you seem rather lonely.”

“I'm not,” you answered, “I was actually enjoying being by myself.”

“Ah. I misread the situation, then.”

“Guess so,” you said, “you can go back to your original seat.”

“No.”

Hisoka made a point to sink lower into the seat as he said “I'm comfortable now, so I think I'll stay.”

You didn't look happy when he said that, and you looked toward the aisle, seemingly in the hopes that your companion would come by and help you. Unfortunately for you, the man was nowhere to be seen, and so you stayed where you were for now, your eyes darting back and forth as you tried to figure out what to do in this moment.

Hisoka was in the same boat in that regard, questioning on if he should reveal the scheme you were caught up in now and see your reaction or if he should play with you a little bit longer.

The combative look in your eyes had him choose the latter.

“What has you traveling this late?” Hisoka asked.

You didn't answer.

He ignored that fact as he continued with “you don't look as though you're traveling for leisure. Are you meeting up with someone? Is it family? Friends?”

Once more you didn't reply.

Hisoka's lips curled into a smile as he then asked “boyfriend?”

Although you continued to remain silent, he saw the subtle reaction that word brought out of you. A brief stiffening of your facial features before the slight frown on your lips set in just a bit deeper, your eyes glaring at something invisible in the space in front of you while you clutched at your backpack just a bit tighter.

“Ah, so that's who you're going to see, is it?” Hisoka asked, smiling good naturedly as he added “though it's a bit of a shame for me. I was hoping I might have a chance with you.”

You rolled your eyes while you scoffed, now looking more annoyed.

“That's a pretty rude reaction,” he said.

“It's also pretty rude to keep bugging someone after you learn that there's another person in the picture,” you replied.

“So you're loyal to him? That's very cute.”

That time you glared at him.

Hisoka tilted his head as he feigned confusion, asking “did I say something wrong?”

“I'd really like it if you would go away,” you told him.

“I told you: I'm comfortable here.”

The scowl on your face worsened, but you now seemed determined to ignore him, leaning your elbow on the armrest as you kept your gaze on the outside once again. The frown on your face and your furrowed eyebrows remained, however, and he saw you fighting the urge to glance over in his direction.

Your companion had yet to return, so he was most likely still on the phone. Though probably not with Chrollo. Hisoka doubted that Chrollo would want him away from you for too long, so whoever he was speaking to was most likely someone outside of the situation.

Careless. But at least it worked in the magician's favor.

Hisoka began to speak to you again, asking more questions that were designed to get beneath your skin. But this time there was no response to anything he asked as you were determined to ignore him. After about a minute of getting nothing out of you, he pouted.

“You're being boring,” he said.

“Good. Maybe that'll make you leave me alone,” you said, “feel free to go away.”

“No.”

You shrugged as you said “then I guess you need to sit there and be bored by me.”

“How heartless,” said Hisoka, “and here all I was trying to do was be friendly.”

“Now that's a fucking lie.”

He couldn't help but smirk a little at that response of yours. You were trying to keep it suppressed, but he saw that little bit of fire in you whenever you snapped at him.

He was starting to like you.

And as he looked at those marks on your neck again, he thought of a new way to rile you up.

“Really, though,” he said, bringing your attention back to him as he continued with “what does your boyfriend do to you?”

You snapped your head back in his direction, breathing in harshly as you looked like you wanted to hit him.

But you restrained yourself.

Adjusting the grip on your bag, you made a move to get up and leave – but the area between the seats were small enough and Hisoka's legs were long enough that he was able to stretch one across and block you in. You stopped and looked back to him. While you could probably get over his leg if you really wanted to, you seemed to want to take back some sort of control in this situation and make him get out of your way.

“Move,” you ordered.

“No,” Hisoka answered. He couldn't help smiling when your glare worsened.

“Are you stupid?” you asked, “there's a lot of people around. You really want me to get everyone's attention and expose you for being a creep?”

“It wouldn't be a good idea for you to go that far.”

“And why's that?”Hisoka smiled as he said “because if you make too much of a fuss, it'll only be worse when Chrollo collects you.”

At the sound of that name, you stilled.

Your eyes widened as you looked at him in shock, your mind no doubt racing as you struggled to understand how a random bystander could know anything about you or the person you were running from.

Eventually you forced yourself to reply.

“… I don't know what you're talking about,” you said, though your voice was barely above a whisper.

Hisoka laughed.“If you're going to lie you need to respond faster. The fact that it looks like your soul is ready to leave your body doesn't help, either,” he told you.

You frowned, though the look of shock didn't leave you.

“You're being serious?” you asked.

“I am.”

“…… Is he here?”

“No. But he is waiting for you at the next station,” Hisoka answered.

You fell against the back of your seat, trying to keep your breathing level as you processed this new information.

“Chrollo couldn't know about this,” you said, “Nevin and I…. We were so careful. We made sure we covered our tracks. He can't know.”

“He does,” Hisoka answered.

“How do you know that?"

“I heard your friend talking to him on the phone earlier.”

“What?”

You looked gutted when you asked that.

“You heard me. Your friend is setting you up,” he told you.

A new wave of shock swept over you, though this time it was quickly followed by denial.

“That's a lie,” you said, shaking your head as you added “he wouldn't do that to me. Nevin wants to help me.”

Hisoka shrugged, saying “if that's what you want to believe, then fine. But don't blame me when Chrollo collects you.”

The magician then moved his leg away as he continued with “do as you please.”

You were caught off-guard by that reaction, and you looked to the now unblocked path before looking back to him. It didn't seem as though you knew what to do and you were still uncertain if you could believe him or not.

“Do you have any proof?” you asked a moment later.

“Proof?”

“Do you have anything other than your word?” you reiterated.

“How in the world would I have proof when I only just learned of all this?” Hisoka asked back.

Before you could answer, Hisoka interjected to say “but ask yourself this: who do you think Nevin has been speaking to every time he leaves the car to take a call?”

“….. Chrollo?”

Hisoka nodded.

“Your friend is probably still on the phone with him; if you want to know for certain, go and check,” the magician added.

Once more, you looked to the path that Hisoka now allowed for you, your mind now racing as you went over your options, thinking to yourself on if you could trust the word of a stranger or if you should keep your faith in your friend. While Hisoka had no proof, the fact that he knew of Chrollo and your connection to him should have been enough to give you pause.

It seemed that you made your decision when you stood. And after slinging your backpack on, you stepped past him and into the aisle.

But you didn't go to where Nevin was.

You went in the opposite direction, away from both your friend and Hisoka as you walked down the aisle at a fast pace. The door to the next car slid shut after you, and Hisoka watched through the glass windows as you went further and further towards the end of the train. There wasn't any stop between here and Merchester; you couldn't get off before then. Not without taking a rough landing.

Would your companion notice before then?

As if on queue, the sliding door at the end of the car opened, and Hisoka glanced behind to find that your friend had reentered. He seemed calm as he placed his phone back in his pocket, though it looked as though his mind was on other things as he walked back down towards his seat as there was a distant look in his eyes.

That changed when Nevin reached where you had been previously, and once he saw the empty seat, he stopped.

“Wh-where's-?”

The man stuttering forced Hisoka to look up at him, and Nevin managed to compose himself a bit as he asked “the person who was sitting there – d-do you know where they went?”

Hisoka shrugged.

Nevin seemed annoyed, but he didn't bother saying anything more to the magician as he began walking again, heading to the other end of the car in search of you. He didn't seem worried at the moment – there were innocent explanations for your absence, but no doubt he'd been given strict instructions to keep an eye on you at all times. Whatever payday he was hoping to get from Chrollo wouldn't come if he failed in any part of his task.

When Nevin failed to find you in either of the bathrooms next to the car, Hisoka noticed when he began to seem more nervous. He stepped in for a brief moment to grab his own bag that he had left sitting on his seat and then took off at a hurried pace as he went to hunt for you.

Hisoka checked the time.

Forty five minutes.

Hisoka counted to ten before he got up as well, taking his time as he followed the same path the two of you had taken. You might be gone already, in which case that man would no doubt turn into a wreck as he contemplated trying again to hunt you down or phoning Chrollo to tell him that he had failed. But if you were still here, what would he do once he found you? Talk you into believing him? Or use physical force to keep you on board for over half an hour?

Would you try to get off the train before he made it to you? Or would you confront him? What would you even be able to do if you confronted him?

And what did Hisoka hope to gain from this?

Truthfully, he hadn't even thought on that in the beginning. All he knew was that Chrollo had some involvement and therefore, Hisoka needed to know what was going on. But now that he'd involved himself and alerted you, what would happen from here? Was there any way this could lead to that fight he wanted with Chrollo? It didn't seem as though any of the troupe would be present with him, so it was as good a chance as any.

Although that didn't mean that the station setting would be a good one. While the late hour meant that there would be fewer people at the station when you got off, there would still be people regardless, and if things were too public, law enforcement would end up being called. Should he wait until you and Chrollo were away from the station? But doing that would mean following him, and while Hisoka was good at tailing people, Chrollo was just as skilled at sensing when he was being followed.

Maybe Hisoka should take you before the train reached Merchester, tell your friend where he would be and let the message be passed on to Chrollo. Then all he would do was wait until the leader of the Phantom Troupe arrived for you. If you had value to Chrollo then using you as bait would be easy. And once he had arrived, Hisoka could let you go. Hell, he could let you go after your friend got the message; you weren't needed for anything else.

But how would Chrollo react if you were killed?

The thought suddenly struck him, and Hisoka's mind began to race as he wondered: if he used one of his cards to slice your throat open and let you bleed out, what would the boss do?

If you died right in front of him, would Chrollo be moved in any way?

…. He was getting ahead of himself.

Right now Hisoka needed to focus on the present: that meant finding out where you were.

The answer to that question was revealed when Hisoka found his way to the back of the train. In one of the baggage cars, he found you and Nevin. You were keeping your distance, your hand ready to grab at the handle of the door on the other end while Nevin was speaking to you as he slowly began to close the distance. Nevin looked over when he heard the door open, and when he saw Hisoka walk in, his expression became confused.

“You – why are you here?!” he asked, his tone accusatory.

Hisoka once again shrugged, leaning against the nearby wall as he waited to see what the outcome of this confrontation would be like. The two of you made eye contact when he looked to you, and though you were still wary, his presence seemed to have given you some sense of security.

You got your friend's attention when you said “Nevin, tell me the truth.”

Your friend turned back to you, asking “truth? What are you talking about?”

“Tell me what's really going on,” you demanded.

Nevin froze when you said that, and Hisoka could see the sweat forming on the back of his neck.

“Wh-what do you mean?”

The lie was obvious.

There was anger bubbling in you now, and your tone reflected that as you said “is it true that you set me up? Is Chrollo really waiting for me at the station?”

Nevin seemed shocked, stuttering out “I-I, I don't-”

“Answer the question!” you yelled.

After a few moments of seeming lost, the man's shoulders sank.

It took him a moment to gather himself before he said “please, you need to understand. My mom – her illness came back. I didn't know what to do, and then Mr. Lucilfer said he would give me all the funds I needed to help her.”

He sold you out. Hisoka had told you the truth.

That revelation hit you hard, and you needed to place a hand on the door you were leaning on to keep yourself upright as despair took you over. That was likely the point in using your friend for this: to teach you that no matter who you went to, Chrollo could control them.

Such a discovery would break the spirits of most people, and it seemed to have broken yours.

Excuses and explanations came spilling from your friend's mouth, about how his parents' savings were decimated last time, how they were never good at saving, how the options he had to help them were limited. How you should understand that he couldn't stand by and let his mother suffer. That you should understand that he had no choice. That you would do the same if you were in the position he was.

You weren't responsive to any of what he said; your mind appeared to only be focused on the fact that you'd been tricked and that there had never been any chance of you escaping your captor. As a result, you stared off into nothing, your movements looking robotic as your hand reached inside your backpack to grab at something, meanwhile your companion was repeating the same drivel, desperately trying to get you to empathize with his family's plight. The longer you went without reacting, the more distressed Nevin became.

“Please, think about this logically,” he pleaded, “there's actual good that can come of this: you going back can help save someone's life. That's worth it, right? My mom is worth that, right?”

You didn't respond.

Then he added “besides, Mr. Lucilfer doesn't seem that bad. I get that he's weird, but all he wants to do is love you, right? It's not like things would be that awful for you if you went back to him.”

Nevin clearly didn't believe the things coming from his mouth now, and all of it was part of that effort to make you stay where you were. But your breath hitched when he said that, and at that moment all that could be seen was a dead look in your eyes.

Your friend was still talking, you weren't doing anything, and the time was slowly ticking away.

Hisoka found himself becoming disappointed in you.

After he'd bothered to warn you, were you really going to do nothing? You were really going to fold so easily and go back beneath the watch of your captor? The confirmation that Chrollo really was waiting for you was enough to extinguish any fight in you?

Disappointing was the only word that went through his mind.

Ah, well. At least it made his choice easy. He'd go with what he'd initially thought of and use you as a way to lure Chrollo. He would decide later whether or not to kill you.

Hisoka stood up and began to walk towards the two of you, which brought Nevin's attention back to him.

“Listen,” Nevin began, “I don't know who you are or what you want, but you need to leave us alone.”

Your companion placed a hand on your shoulder as he continued with “the guy we're going to see isn't someone you want-”

You stabbed him in the eye.

Hisoka had seen it coming. He saw the way you had looked at your friend and how fast you had pulled your hand back out from your bag. He'd seen the pen clenched tightly in your fist and how you aimed for the head, piercing through the side of his eye. He'd seen the cold look in your own eyes when you did all of that.

Yet it still managed to catch him off guard, and Hisoka stared at you in awe as you pulled your hand away and stumbled backward, the pen jutting out of your friend's skull while the blood dripped down his cheek.

A certain sense of exhilaration filled him now as he stared at you; it was the same sense he would get whenever he found a worthwhile opponent. Yet it managed to feel even stronger with you, and all he wanted in that moment was to take you for himself.

Though he wasn't allowed much time to take it all in.

Only a second had passed by before Nevin started screaming at the top of his lungs.

Or rather, he had begun to.

The instant Nevin began to scream, Hisoka activated his ability. With one movement he had covered up Nevin's mouth and nose. His cries of pain could still be heard, but they were now muffled through the layer of Bungee Gum that had now cut off his air. Confused and in pain, Nevin attempted to grab at what he only knew as an invisible force around his face, only to get his hands stuck as well, all the while the pen stuck out of his bloody eye.

The next moments were that of a mad panic: still in pain and without being able to even see what was now suffocating him, Nevin stumbled forward as he began to flail about the train car, pulling himself forward to bash against the walls while the noises coming from his blocked mouth began to sound more like screams that were stuck beneath water. All he was doing was hurting himself, but he likely couldn't feel it in that moment, far too panicked from all that was happening.

Nevin lunged at Hisoka, to which the magician sidestepped him and allowed him to tumble to the floor. The Bungee Gum wrapped around his head now kept him stuck to the smooth surface, and he continued his wailing as he tried to use his feet to scramble back up.

Hisoka turned back to you then.

You looked fearful. There was a disturbed look in your eyes as you saw just how much blood had managed to spatter across the walls during Nevin's rampage, and that disturbed look remained when you looked at him in his current state. Your lack of nen meant you couldn't see Hisoka's ability, and therefore you were just as confused as to what was keeping him stuck like that.

And yet, even though he could spot the fear and even pity in your eyes for your former friend, Hisoka felt certain that he saw a part of you that was satisfied.

That man betrayed you. He deserved it.

Hisoka stepped forward and that was when you looked to him once more. Based on the face you made when you saw him, he must not have been doing a good job at hiding how excited he was, and you quickly turned to open the door behind you and make a break for it.

He followed, slamming the door back open with no thought given to the man who continued to writhe against the floor behind him.

Hisoka wasn't going to let you leave.

You had already reached the door to the outside as you fumbled with the handle. It took half a second for Hisoka to calm himself, and as you were about to pull the exit open, he called to you.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

The sound of his voice caused you to stop. Turning to face him, you pressed yourself up against the door as you watched him slowly approach you.

“Well?” Hisoka pressed as he stopped in front of you, asking “where exactly do you think you'll be going from here?”

“….. I don't know,” you answered, “but I can figure out something as long as I leave now.”

Hisoka raised an eyebrow as he asked “and you think that will be enough to get away from Chrollo?”

“He-he doesn't know what's happened, right? And we still have time before we get to Merchester. Enough to give me a head start, at least,” you insisted.

“A head start to where?”

Your mouth opened to answer that question, but then you faltered, remaining silent as your mind struggled to formulate an response.

But what could you even say? What solution could you come up with as the limited amount of time grew smaller and smaller before Chrollo would inevitably confront you and whisk you away once again? Everything about your planned escape had no doubt heavily depended on your friend – what could you do now that you were on your own? Even if you jumped off now and made a run for it, how long would you be able to go on like that before Chrollo found you? And how much worse would it be for you when Chrollo inevitably did find you?

It was hopeless and you knew it.

“Well? What genius plan can you come up with to get away from Chrollo?” Hisoka prodded.

You hung your head in despair as you quietly asked “why are you doing this? Who even are you?”

He laughed.

“I know we didn't speak to one another at Heavens Arena, but with the way you were looking at me earlier I thought you would've remembered me by now.”

“Heavens…..”

Your voice trailed off, and at first, it didn't click for you. Hisoka almost thought he would need to spell it out even further when he saw the realization take over your face, and suddenly you looked even more terrified.

“You're one of them,” you breathed, “you're part of the troupe. Hisoka.”

Hisoka smiled as he said “I'm flattered that you know my name. Did boss tell you?”

“…. I don't understand. Why tell me what was going on and do what you did to Nevin if all you were going to do was hand me off to – oh.”

Your shoulders sank after you cut yourself off and you somehow managed to look even more miserable.

“Oh?” Hisoka repeated.

“This is just you trying to get better standing with Chrollo or something, right? Chrollo never talked about you, but I heard enough from the others to know that not many of them trust you.”

Your expression was bleak again when you said “are you going to tell Chrollo that Nevin was going to betray him and that you stopped in order to earn his trust?”

The bleak look left your face and turned into confusion when Hisoka chuckled.

“That's an interesting thought, but no,” he told you.

“What do you want, then?” you asked.

“What I want, hm?”

The magician stared down at you, and you in turn looked up at him nervously.

“At first I thought I wanted to fight Chrollo,” Hisoka began, “and that I would use you to get to him.”

The way he said he would use you only made you more distressed, but you stayed still where you were, and there was some sense that you knew you wouldn't be able to run from him even if you tried.

You must have learned that the hard way with Chrollo.

And as he thought of the boss, Hisoka's eyes went back to the marks on your neck.

The marks that Chrollo made.

Hisoka wondered what it had been like when Chrollo made those marks on you. Had you fought back and forced him to restrain you as he did what he wanted, or did you lie down and let it happen, having learned that there was no point in struggling against him? How long had you taken whatever he did to you, and what had been your breaking point that forced you to attempt escape?

What made Chrollo choose to do any of this?

For someone as strange as Hisoka admittedly was, he couldn't help but be curious as Chrollo was even more of an enigma of a human being. Things that the troupe stole generally ended up being sold some months after, with Chrollo rarely if ever becoming attached enough to keep anything, only holding onto the items stolen from their heists long enough to appreciate whatever qualities of beauty or value they had. The only thing that seemed to have any true value to him was the troupe itself; anything or anyone outside of that group could and would be easily discarded.

Yet the man wanted to keep you, enough so that he allowed you out for the sole purpose of teaching you the lesson that escaping him was impossible.

What was it about you that he liked? Was it purely a physical attraction or did he like your personality? Maybe it was a combination of the two? How had you come to meet him? Had he taken you forcibly like almost everything else that ended up in his possession? Or had you been tricked with sweet words and the veil lifted once you weren't in a position where you could get away as easily?

What was he going to do to you if he caught up with you?

Hisoka then smirked to himself. That last part didn't matter.

Hisoka saw something in you that he liked, and for that reason, Chrollo wouldn't have you again.

He placed his hands on either side of you while he leaned in, and in that way he kept you caged against the door. As much as you tried to back away into the glass of the window behind you, you had no way of putting any distance between you two. You were stuck with the magician leering down at you.

“But now that I've thought it over,” Hisoka then continued, “I've decided that I'm going to keep you for myself.”

Your expression went from nervous to terrified and you stood there, staring at him in silence.

Hisoka smiled.

“Scared?” he asked.

You nodded slowly.

“You shouldn't be,” he said, moving his hand so he could stroke your cheek. The action made you shudder while he continued.

“I like you, so I'll keep you safe.”

Hearing that did little to please you.

“…. I'd rather you didn't like me,” you whispered.

“Oh? So you want to end up like that one?” Hisoka asked, nodding with his head towards the other car.

You shook your head.

“I just want people like you to leave me alone.”

He smirked as he repeated “people like me?”

“You and Chrollo,” you said, “both of you hurt others for the sake of your own wants and you don't care about the lives you ruin in the process. Just as long as you get what you want, nothing else matters.”

“Ah, is that how you see it?”

“Are you saying I'm wrong?”

Hisoka conceded with a shrug of his shoulders as he replied “no, I can't find any reason to disagree.”

“But I can't find any reason to care, either,” he added, saying “feel free to think whatever you like of me, but it's like you said: as long as I get what I want, I don't care about anything else.”

His hand slid from down your cheek and to your neck, his sharp nails brushing against your skin as he focused on the marks left on your skin, already thinking about the way he would cover them up with his own.

You looked defeated as you asked “it doesn't matter if I try and fight you, does it?”

“It would be a useless endeavor,” Hisoka confirmed, “but if you truly can't stand the thought of being mine, I'll let you go. Though my question from earlier still stands.”

That was a lie. He wouldn't let you go no matter what you chose.

But pushing you to pick him was fun in it's own way.

You remained quiet, and Hisoka prodded you again as he said “it's your choice: you can try to escape on your own and inevitably end up back with Chrollo, or you do as I say, and I'll see to it that you have an easier time.”

You began to tremble as you stared at nothing in front of you.

Then Hisoka watched as your hand went to grasp at your arm. The same arm he'd seen in the sling that first time he'd met you. Tears were welling up in your eyes as you were no doubt remembering something unpleasant.

“He broke your arm, didn't he?” Hisoka asked, “when I saw you that time in the elevator, you were being led away for a further punishment, weren't you? After going through that, what do you think he'll do once he has his hands on you again?”

The way you bit your lip had him believing that he was right.

Then you shook your head.

“He didn't break it,” you answered softly.

“Oh? Who did?”

“The…. The black haired one, with glasses. Shizuku.”

Hisoka hummed as he asked “and what exactly happened that resulted in her breaking your arm?”

“….. The window was open and I….. I tried to push her out of it.”

The grip on your arm became tighter when you added “I was too slow and she grabbed me too hard.”

“What did she do to you?” Hisoka asked.

“Nothing. She hadn't even spoken to me. But…..”

He raised an eyebrow, silently encouraging you to continue.

“….. It's not easy to hurt Chrollo,” you began, “he doesn't care if I destroy his things, and he's too strong for me to do anything to him physically. Even if I tell him every day that I hate him and that I actively wish for someone will tear him limb from limb, it doesn't phase him.”

“But he cares about the troupe. He cares about their well-being, and even if he tries to hide it, you can tell that he's upset whenever something happens to one of them,” you continued, “on that day, when I saw her standing next to the window on a floor that high up…… All I saw was my chance to hurt him. That I could make him finally regret all he'd done to me once he saw her splattered on the ground.”

The memory was replaying itself in your head. And as Hisoka gazed into your eyes that currently had a far-off look to them while you relived that memory, he caught a glimpse of bloodlust within them, one that was similar to the look in your eyes when you had stabbed Nevin only minutes ago. An urge to kill that he was intimately familiar with but was still so new to you as that feeling didn't last long within you. Your brows furrowed and your gaze became more pained while you kept your grip on your arm.

Despite all that had been done to you, you still felt guilt for trying to kill someone, even if it was someone who had hurt you.

But the fact that you'd been driven to such lengths was impressive to him.

He wished he could've been there, present in that room and able to watch for the moment where you caught sight of Shizuku innocently standing by the window and your morals were tossed to the side. He wondered if the expression on your face when you decided that you wanted to end her life was similar to what he had seen earlier: cold and unfeeling. Or had your expression been one of rage? Of the quiet individual who had been pushed too far for too long? Or were you panicking when you rushed towards her, looking ready to cry as you tried to commit an act that at the time was unthinkable for you?

“Tell me,” he said then, “what did Chrollo do to you after that?”

“…… It was a long time before I got to see sunlight again,” you mumbled. You didn't offer any more information than that.

“The fact that Chrollo let you live after you tried to kill one of the troupe is a miracle in of itself,” Hisoka told you, “he must truly love you to keep you even after that.”

“…. I don't want him to love me.”

“Well, you don't have much choice in that, do you?”

There wasn't any response you could give to that, and you bit your lip in frustration. You were crying now while your hand continued to squeeze at your arm. Whatever would happen once you were back with Chrollo would be bad. That you had continued to defy him by running after the punishment you received for the stunt with Shizuku meant that Chrollo's methods weren't effective enough. Hisoka idly wondered if Chrollo had wanted to give you the opportunity to get into contact with your friend as a way to test you, or if you managing to make contact was an oversight on his part.

Though just like before, it didn't matter.

Hisoka hadn't checked his phone in some time, but a considerable amount of time had passed since he had last looked. There could only be thirty minutes left until the train reached Merchester at most. Either you were going to agree to go with him or he would knock you out and take you.

It seemed as though you sensed the time limit as well as you finally spoke up to ask one last question.

“You won't hurt me?”

Your voice sounded far weaker than he'd ever heard it, and you wavered halfway through the question while tears continued to run down your cheeks.

He reached up to wipe them away with his thumb.

“I can't promise no pain,” he began, “but I can assure you that I will never hurt you on purpose.”

You were frowning at that, but the way you averted your eyes as you turned your head down seemed to indicate that you knew even that was better than going back to your previous captor.

He grinned when you made your choice.

“Okay.”

Hisoka grabbed you by the hand and pulled you away from the door, opening it without any hesitation. The noise from the wind and the wheels on the tracks were overwhelming as the two of you stepped out onto the small platform at the back, and despite your apprehension in regards to him, you clutched at the hand that held yours anyway as you looked out at the tracks beneath you and the darkened night beyond.

You were so desperate to get away from Chrollo that you would do anything and turn to anyone to achieve that goal. Even if it meant turning to someone like Hisoka for help. Even if it meant committing heinous acts yourself. As much as you wanted to admonish Hisoka and Chrollo for the way their actions, you must have realized that you were beginning to imitate them in that sense. That you were determined to get what you wanted even if it meant hurting other people.

Perhaps some of your misery came in realizing that fact.

The magician then remembered one last thing he needed to do before the two of you left, and he let go of your hand in favor of patting you on the cheek as he told you to wait for him. The noise outside made it hard to hear, but you seemed to understand him.

He was pleased when he went back inside the train and saw that you did as you were told.

The disappointment he had felt from earlier in the day was long-since forgotten, and now Hisoka counted himself lucky that he had stumbled onto you, and all of it was because of random chance that had him in the right place at the right time to hear the exact information he needed in order to make you his.

Chrollo stared out at the tracks, his eyes following along the long metal lines until they became impossible to see. A fog had fallen since the train had pulled into the station, and the flashing lights of the police cars behind him illuminated it, switching the gray of the night into blue and red in rapid succession.

Beyond the fog and the tracks was darkness.

And beyond that, somewhere, was you.

Chrollo began to walk towards the tracks, away from the crime scene you had left behind. He had seen it already. After the train staff had called for help but before the police had arrived, Chrollo had no issue getting on board and using one of his abilities to keep the staff out of his way as he looked over the body that had been discovered in the baggage compartment.

He wasn't truly surprised at the scene, and yet he did need to admit that it was bloodier than he had anticipated. The struggle that had occurred there had left bloodstains strewn about the walls and the floor, and all of it led to the body at the center of the car. Nevin's body was instantly recognizable, as was the pen that had been sticking out of his eye socket, one that Chrollo recognized as being in your possession.

As expected, once he saw that your friend was dead, there was no sign of you anywhere. Upon entering the very last car, Chrollo's gaze had gone to the door that led to the outside, and it was easy to imagine you climbing over the railing at the back and jumping off before you disappeared into the night.

When the police sirens were close enough to be heard in the distance, Chrollo left, though not before collecting the cellphone Nevin had used to frequently contact him from before.

But it had been then that he saw something that made him pause.

Chrollo continued to walk as he thought on it: one of Nevin's hands was more damaged than the other, to the point that the skin at the tips of his fingers and a few of his fingernails were missing. They'd been torn off, to be exact, as Chrollo noticed them soon after on the other side of Nevin's head. Imprints of his bloody fingers could be seen not far from where he had been laying, as though he'd been trying to pull himself up. The dark marks left on the floor from his shoes also indicated as such.

How had you killed him for that to be the end result?

Had you even killed him?

Chrollo had seen first hand that you could be driven to unexpected lengths when you were pushed far enough, and the pen that had been left behind was definitely yours.

But something about the scene didn't feel right. The torn flesh of the fingers didn't make sense, and neither did the fact that there was little if any blood in the last train car. If you had killed Nevin in a violent struggle, there would have been signs of your escape in the form of a bloody shoe print or perhaps some injuries of your own. That there was nothing back there made no sense.

What had happened there?

While the theories on potential scenarios ran through his mind, it was impossible to tell with such little information.

And so the bad feeling stuck with him.

The bad feeling would grow shortly after, when he would discover that even his furthest reaching abilities couldn't locate you. And even later when some of the troupe would lend their assistance in locating you, the belief being that you couldn't have gone far – you had left the jenny in your friend's wallet behind and you didn't know the area. Yet there was no sign of you.

The bad feeling would become worse later on still when Chrollo would learn the results of Nevin's autopsy report and find that the man had died from asphyxiation, and he would be forced to again wonder what exactly had gone on in that car between the two of you. There was nothing found within the car that had been used as the murder weapon, and even if there had been, it still didn't explain the torn skin of his fingers.

More possibilities came to mind, more thoughts on who or what had killed your friend as he felt more and more certain that you hadn't been behind that.

Which meant that another, unknown party had inexplicably become involved. And the grim days would continue to pass for Chrollo as he searched for you, who seemed to have been plucked off the face of the earth.

But for now, in the middle of that foggy night while he walked along the tracks, the bad feeling remained relatively minor within him.

As he continued along his way, he looked out into the distance beyond the fog as he frowned to himself.

“Love,” Chrollo said aloud, “just what have you gotten yourself into now?”

#yandere hxh #yandere x reader #reader insert #yandere hunter x hunter #hisoka x reader #yandere hisoka #hxh hisoka #hisoka morow x reader #hisoka morow #chrollo x reader #yandere #hxh x reader

[itsclydebitches]

By this point we’ve all seen a hundred “Lucy had a crush on Cooper Howard and doesn’t realize he’s the Ghoul” takes (which feed me during the hiatus, thanks), but just for the lols I’d love to see the reversal: Lucy hates this guy.

Cooper Howard is her personal White Whale. Lucy hate-watches his films and nit-picks every scene like someone is paying her caps to do it. Whatever the opposite of a blorbo is, that’s Cooper. She woke up one day and chose violence against this 200 years dead actor in particular… but, you know, in a PR approved, Vaultie kind of way. Why the hate? Who knows. Probably a combination of her dad showing her Cooper’s debut film right when she hit that tween age where liking what your parents like is soul crushing and the fact that if she didn’t have this emotional outlet she’d probably explode. It’s the one (1) thing goody-goody Lucy is irrational about and Norm takes endless pleasure in it.

So she’s traveling with the Ghoul, right? Not a whole lot to do while traversing the Wasteland, especially when your companion is blatantly ignoring you and the pip-boy isn’t picking up any radio signals. So when Lucy is able to open that wound again she starts talking about her dad. The books he liked. Jokes he told over dinner. His favorite pair of socks. Silly, inconsequential things that don’t touch on the weight of his betrayal.

Eventually, Lucy talks about the movies they used to watch.

Eventually, Lucy is comfortable enough—and bored enough—to segue into epic rants about Cooper Fudging Howard. For hours. Nothing escapes her passive aggressive, couched-as-constructive-criticism bitching. Not his acting (“Really, he’d benefit from learning a gesture other than sticking his hands in his belt”), not his looks (“Who decided to put him in those pants in Master of the Ranch? Although, Dad says Howard is the one who requested them…”), not even his unintentional impact on the family (“I swear if Dad makes me watch A Man and His Dog one more time…”).

All the while Cooper is walking a few paces ahead. Seemingly stoic.

Actually losing it.

What’s he even supposed to do in this situation?? He hates himself, but not like that. Cooper doesn’t have any desire to talk to Vaultie (that’s a lie. He’s good at lying to himself), but suddenly he wants to turn around, finger held aloft in the air (hers), and correct everything coming out of her mouth—whether he truly disagrees or not. Hands-in-belt is a classic cowboy pose. He loved those pants.

Cooper is Struggling™ and they haven’t even hit the strip yet.

Bonus points: Somewhere along the line they get together and Cooper starts angsting over whether Lucy will leave him. Not because of the radiation damage, or the murder, or the cannibalism, but because if she ever finds out he’s Cooper Howard she’ll absolutely abandon ship. Or kill him. Either option seems likely at this point.

Lucy: Are you ever going to tell me your name? Cooper, literally in bed with Lucy post-coitus: …That’s a little personal, sweetheart

#Fallout #the ghoul #Lucy Maclean #ghoulcy #Cooper Howard

[starry-nights-garden]

Ateez Reaction ✧ Finding out their s/o has self harm scars

✧ Ateez all members x gn!reader ✧ genre: reaction, comfort ✧ warnings: mentions of self harm/self harm scars

Author's note: I've been wanting to write something like this for a long time and always hesitated to do it because I was afraid of any unkind reactions. However, I figured that we all deserve to feel neutral and okay about our scars, so I hope that this can be a comfort to some <3

Hongjoong:

when he first happens to catch a glimpse of your scars on accident he's pretty sure that they're self harm scars

but he'll keep quiet about them, aware that he probably wasn't meant to see them, and in no way does he want to pressure you into talking about something you're not ready to

however he does make sure to drop a "you know you can tell me anything" as soon as he gets the chance for it

once you do decide to tell him though, he'll try his best to just listen and to make it clear that he would never ever judge you for something like this

won't ask too many questions so as not to overwhelm you - instead he'll convey to you that you can always come talk to him about this if you want to

definitely the type to caress and kiss your scars a lot (if you're okay with that), in order to make you feel that you don't need to be ashamed of them or hide them

he will do a lot of research on the topic as well, and will try to find ways to help spread awareness and destigmatize self harm scars

Seonghwa:

when you open up to him about your self harm scars he can't hide the shock that creeps onto his face

words aren't enough to describe just how worried he is, and even before figuring out how he should react, he'll be reaching out for your hands to wrap them tightly into his

it'll take him a while to process what you just told him, but he'll find the right words eventually

"I'm here for you if you need me. Always. Okay?"

thankful for his sincere words, you just nod, and as you're tearing up because he didn't react badly and you can feel just how much you can trust him, tears well up in his eyes as well

attempting to hide them, he offers you a warm hug instead, wanting nothing more than to make you feel protected

after that, you feel like he'll prioritize your wellbeing even more, doing his best to always be there for you and to support you in whatever way possible

he will also take having deep conversations about your feelings even more serious now, and at time where you're feeling down he will become very protective of you and pamper you as much as he can!

Yunho:

he's not sure how to react when you confess to him that you have self harm scars

you can see that he's internally panicking, because whatever he imagined this conversation was going to be about, he would've never considered this option

"A-are you okay?" - the question just bursts out of him as it's the first thing that came to mind, and it's so blunt that it almost makes you chuckle a bit

you assure him that you're okay currently, and he lets out a massive sigh of relief

but as he starts thinking about it some more, he comes to realize that he actually has a lot of questions

he desperately wants to understand your reasons and how you feel about your scars now, etcetc, so he starts carefully asking you about everything that's on his mind

tries his best to understand you as you start explaining, and if you hesitate on a question he'll immediately tell you that you don't have to give him an answer if you feel uncomfortable

talking to you about it definitely makes him feel relieved, and he also won't hesitate to ask about how to help you in a time of crisis, and how to best support you should the urge to hurt yourself return

Yeosang:

he doesn't want to pressure you to talk about them when he first sees your scars, and he's really good at pretending he doesn't know about them, but in a way that also makes it a bit harder for you to finally talk to him about them

and yet when you do manage to tell him, he's still as shocked as if he hadn't already known about them

he doesn't know how to react, so after some consideration he simply asks you how you feel about them

he really wants to know how comfortable you are talking about them, showing them, etcetc, so that he can react more appropriately

will make sure to match your energy on this - if you're uncomfortable he'll go slow and offer that you can talk about them whenever you want to, while also assuring you that you don't have to; if you're comfortable he'll let himself be a bit more curious

either way he will trust you on what you tell him, and when you assure him that he doesn't have to worry he will believe you

instead, he'll offer an open ear whenever you need it, and he will prove to you that it was the right decision to open up to him about it

San:

fears the worst when he catches a glimpse of your scars one day, but tells himself he shouldn't ask about them and instead wait until you're ready to talk about them yourself

but of course this guy will be worried sick within only a few days, until he ends up very carefully asking you about them

and when you confirm his assumption about your scars, he becomes so worried and at the same time so sad that you had to go through such pain that you would resort to hurting yourself

will approach you very slowly, and then cup your face in his hands to get a good look at you, and you swear nobody has ever looked at you with such pure and deep love in their eyes

"If there's anything I can do to make it better... please tell me. I'll do anything."

you nod, and you let him pull you into a loving kiss that he doesn't seem to want to break as his lips linger on yours

aside from the initial shock, he deals with it quite well, but he definitely becomes more protective of you from then on

makes sure to check in with you whenever you seem down or stressed, and reminds you to take care of yourself just as much as he offers to be there for you whenever you need him

if you're okay with it, he will make a habit of tracing your scars mindlessly, while whispering promises about how he'll do whatever he can so that you would never have to feel this bad ever again

Mingi:

the first time he sees your scars he won't know how to react immediately

however, he's sensible enough to figure that he should try to stay calm first of all

but he also knows that if he doesn't ask about them, he will probably lie awake at night, unable to stop worrying about you

and so he somewhat awkwardly asks what those scars are, and when you give him an honest answer he'll be both relieved and shocked

relieved because it means you trust him a lot, and shocked because now he's wondering what kind of pain you must've gone through to make you hurt yourself

this guy immediately offers you open arms in case you want a hug, and when you accept the embrace he'll tell you that whenever you're having a hard time, he'll be there to protect you

doesn't ask any questions and won't make you talk about it, but from then on you notice him checking up on how you're feeling just a bit more frequently, and he makes sure to make you feel that you always have someone to lean on with him, even during difficult conversations

over time he will definitely start giving your scars a lot of attention, especially when you’re cuddling, tracing them with his fingers and kissing them, while repeatedly whispering to you how much he loves you

Wooyoung:

his first thought when he sees your scars isn't that you caused them yourself, but rather that someone else hurt you

so he's understandably upset, and will immediately reach out for you, asking about who did this to you

until it dawns on him that something's not quite right, because now you're staring at him in shock, and eventually you manage to whisper a "me"

he lets go of you and apologizes for reacting like he did, and you can undoubtedly see how he's calming himself down in order to reassess the situation properly

"Do you... want to talk about it?" - he eventually figures he should just ask, and let you decide what to do with this situation

will listen intently in case you say yes, and when you explain to him why you hurt yourself he will make you promise to come talk to him instead, should you ever feel the urge again

gives you kisses and headpats and hugs and anything else you might want after you make the promise, and when he brings you in for a tight hug he'll whisper a thank you for trusting him enough to tell him about it

Jongho:

he won't make it obvious, but by the time you tell him about your scars, he already has a good guess about what they are, based on the few glimpses he's caught of them so far

will control his reaction to your confession very well, so as not to make you worry about his feelings and to focus on you

acknowledges what you choose to tell him about it, and will listen to what you have to say rather than asking questions about it

"You know if there's something you want to talk about, you can always tell me." - will assure you of that while brushing a thumb against your cheek

however, it will soon become obvious that he's more worried than he initially allowed himself to show, because now he refuses to leave your side if you're not feeling well, and somehow you feel like he's more reluctant to let you go when he hugs you

as you talk more about it, he'll trust that you will come talk to him before doing anything stupid, but still he'll stay at least a little protective of you and offer to help distract you in case you feel the need to hurt yourself again

he too is the type who will find himself touching your scars every now and then (if you give him the okay), kissing them or tracing them with his fingertips in hopes that one day you would associate them with something positive as well

#ateez fluff #ateez comfort #ateez reactions #ateez x reader #ateez x gn reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #comfort #fluff #reaction

[suzukiblu]

do you have any kryptonians hcs that you think would be fun to see incorporated in more fics out there? like cultural stuff & biology

Ones I've seen before and really like:

Kryptonians purr

Kryptonians are built physically harder/denser/heavier than humans and don't have much "give" in their bodies

Kryptonians can tell that humans aren't the same thing as them, but humans can't QUITE tell that Kryptonians aren't the same thing as them; there is just the tiiiiiniest bit of uncanny valley there when they aren't deliberately trying to pass for humans, though

Kryptonians immediately just "recognize" other Kryptonians as being Kryptonian ( though maybe this one is at least IMPLIED in canon, though I've never been totally clear on that one--but like, a stronger version of it, if that makes sense?? )

Ones I've been slooowly forming myself for personal use:

Kryptonians have different voices and different hearing, in the sense that a Kryptonian has more tones/nuance in their voice and can HEAR more tones/nuance in a voice, and a lot of other species' voices sound flat or toneless to them because they lack those additional tones

"chiming" as a way for children to get their parent/caretaker's attention; basically a specific musical little sound that they make

Kryptonians typically only being physically expressive or emotive with close family members/friends, and vocal communication frequently being more emotive/descriptive for them than physical is

Kryptonians come in just sliiiightly brighter colors than humans do--eyes, hair, skin, etc

it takes a long time and extended time together to "learn" someone's heartbeat

food is generally served on specific complementing dishware, in terms of color/shape/specific meal

most clothes involve multiple layers, mainly a fitted undersuit that covers as much skin as possible, and then an overrobe or two that hide(s) the shape of their bodies as much as possible; specific cuts of drapery are a big thing in their fashion

wearing house crests is a Big Deal all the time and involves certain rites of passage/ages/etc

diet being fairly simple and minimalistic; they have rice but not really bread, eat more fish than red meat, and cuisine tends to concentrate on very subtle and natural flavors; there's not typically a lot of different things on their plate and they don’t generally use chemical preservatives in daily life

to a Kryptonian it'd be a LOT more normal that Kon and Match got made in test tubes than it'd be that Jon and Chris got made via natural births, and there would absolutely be a "is cloning worse or is just leaving your kid's DNA up to chance worse??" kind of argument going on there, culturally speaking

( also I could go on for a fucking MINUTE how Jon being a successful and healthy hybrid who is also apparently fertile enough to have at least one descendent alive and well in the thirty-first century is an insane and weird thing that makes very little sense that I DESPERATELY wish came up in more of the fics/canon that I see involving or mentioning him; seriously, Kryptonian DNA is so complicated that Bizarro syndrome is a regular thing in clones produced from it even by people who SPECIALIZE in cloning, but the kid who just got whatever random genes won the random race is the one who came out perfectly stable and healthy and has ZERO health issues/concerns? like, EVER?? hOW, canon. HOW. )

I will actually live and die on the hill of "Lex is more genetically compatible with Kryptonian DNA than Lois is" because fuck a) biological determinism and b) loving couples DO frequently have to deal with genetic incompatibility and that's just much more interesting to me narratively, and also I love the weird little not-quite-tragedy of that concept, both in how Lex refuses to be an ally to someone he actually is so naturally “compatible” with and in how Lois would have genetic compatibility issues with someone she loved so much and was loved BY so much

ONE DAY I will write the fic where Jon is actually NOT a healthy hybrid and has a ton of health issues from birth and can't even use any Kryptonian powers without having a freaking asthma attack or HEART attack, resigns himself to it just being an unavoidable Kryptonian-human hybrid thing and that he'll never live up to his dad or grow up to be "Superman"--and then one day an oblivious newborn bb clone Kon shows up out of the blue in perfect health with EXTRA superpowers and very publicly declaring that HE'S gonna be Superman someday, and everyone in the Kent family has to just deal with that and how they all feel about it. ONE DAY.

#anonymous #meta ecetera

[dazaiandhislovelybandages]

does it have to be angst? i was gonna ask for married levi/reader with kids post war but 🥺🙏🏻 for angst maybe it could be about his injuries, with reader giving comfort?

Providing Comfort {Levi Ackerman}

A/n: thank you for requesting. Generally you can request whatever you want but I don't think I would actually write the request with him having kids. Anyways. I hope you like the comfort one.

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x gn!reader

Trigger warnings: mentions of injuries, self doubt, low confidence, mentions of not liking oneself, mentions of painkillers

You knew the first months after the war were going to be the most difficult ones. It wasn't just because of the fact that everyone would have to get used to the new world but also because of the trauma everything had left behind.

"Just give me another... one of those little damn things." Levi groaned and despite your attempts to help him lie back down on the bed, he sat back up.

"Aspirins?" You let out a sigh and sat next to him.

The most difficult part in reality was trying to help the most stubborn man you knew with getting accustomed to his new daily life. For better or for worse, Levi refused to follow or at least understand the orders the doctor had given him. On one hand, it was understandable; he was used to constantly moving, training, going on expeditions and fighting, there was no way he could accept laying in bed all day in order to heal his injuries. On the other... it saddened you. He was colder than he had ever been, barely talking to anyone and when he did, his words cut deeper than any knife.

"Whatever that is. Just give it to me."

He had started making progress though, you had to admit at least that. In the beginning he wouldn't even tell you when or where he was in pain. It was like a guess game, you would squeeze his knee and pray the pain was too much for him to try and hold back any groans or expressions.

Most of the times it worked.

Then he figured out that he could take aspirins whenever he was in pain and ever since then he refused to let them go. But the doctor's visit yesterday had left him with zero options than to stop taking them.

"The doctor said no, Levi."

"Couldn't care less."

And you couldn't do much about it either. Even batting heads with him felt strange since having been under his command for so long usually meant him giving the orders and not vice versa.

"Maybe doing the exercises the doctor told you would help with the pain... just saying." A small awkward pause followed, small enough to feel as if centuries had passed until Levi shook his head. It didn't need a lot of thinking to figure out why he refused.

The following days after the war ended, Levi and who knows how many others were in the hospital. Unlike some people and like others, Levi didn't get out of there unscathed. The only injury he had partly accepted was his missing fingers which was both because it occured before the war started and also because he proved to himself that he can still do everything just perfect without having all five fingers.

Neither you nor him understood how you came to live with each other but unbeknownst to you, it was more of a comfort than a nuissance to him. However, he still had his... issues. The last thing he wanted was an old member of his team to see him at his worst. Not even Erwin had achieved something like that.

"I can help. I promise it will only help with the pain."

As much as he hated it, it wasn't as if he had much of a choice.

"All you had to do was ask."

Helping him with his exercises didn't take more than half an hour. Levi was a perfectionist and you knew it. He wasn't doing it to get the pain to go away but to prove to himself that he was in charge of his body. All of his life consisted of constantly proving something to himself.

"Are you planning on nagging me about it?" He reached out for the hot cup of tea you had prepared for him with a sigh.

"Maybe." You replied with a smile.

He had made much more of a progress than you had imagined. Not once had you imagined you'd see him finally relax his shoulders and lean back on the couch comfortably, holding his cup of tea in his peculiar way.

"Go on then."

It would take much more time to completely open up to you, let you provide him with proper comfort but for now and for the past few weeks, he was fine with you talking his ear out. It kept him mind off the pain and in one way or another it felt more comforting than the warm cup of tea he was holding.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman #levi x you #aot levi #snk levi #levi aot #captain levi #levi attack on titan x reader #attack on titan levi ackerman x reader #attack on titan levi x reader #aot levi x reader #aot levi ackerman x reader #aot levi ackerman #levi comfort #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #captain levi x reader #captain levi ackerman #captain levi ackerman x reader #writing #anime and manga #anime #manga

[ronearoundblindly]

F and Z for nomad steve! i love that fic tbh

From this ask game and about the Hideout series with touch-starved!Steve x motel employee!reader.

*sorry this took so long. Technically wasn't doing these anymore but then again this month has been a miserable mess of work and allergy pain, so this might get something flowing writing-wise. Enjoy!

Dirty headcanons ahoy! Minors DNI, please and thank you. There is plenty for you to enjoy from my Light Masterlist, but this is not for you!

F - Food Play

Ok, this one is very simple: food in the bedroom generally means something in his hand or in your hand that isn't part of the other person. Steve prefers skin-to-skin contact. He likes to be touching you and likes you to be touching him. He doesn't give a shit about food other than providing you with whatever you need or want of it to fuel sexual activities--or life, ya know, because he's very respectful and aware that life is not about sex--just not food during sex. Sorry. It holds no interest for him.

If you want to, cool, but that doesn't enhance anything for him.

Z - Zones

Uh...everywhere?!

But ok, I see what y'all want. Let's break this down, full-body style, starting with extremities.

Steve has a thing with his hands. It's an intimate act to offer love and affection to parts of him that inflict damage and pain. This is something he enjoys about art: good and beautiful things can come from a piece of him used for violence. As far as his feet? This is more of a playful enjoyment, a comfort. Steve doesn't derive sensuality from touching his feet, but he fakes being ticklish so he can act a little childish and playful with you. He likes to be barefoot (as a sign he isn't ready to run), and if his legs are on you, his feet are likely pressed to you as well. Hopefully that makes sense. Steve likes to tuck into your body as much as possible.

Alrighty, LEGS! Take a deep breath, ladies, because Steve gets extremely excited for a sharp grip on his thighs and just a hint of your nails biting his skin while you go down on him. That's not a sign it's too much for you; he takes that as encouragement. He likes when your hands go groping and wandering anywhere while you slowly take him as deep as you can (mouth or pussy), but he is an absolute whore for your enthusiasm. When you act like you can't possibly have enough of him at once, he cannot possibly hold in his own appreciation.

🥴

::takes break to scream into the void::

Onto the arms, head, and chest...right...yeah, so, Nomad's got that gorgeous fucking hair, but do not pull on it--not hard, ok, not a lot. You get far more from Steve by being gentle around his upper body, similar to the hands. He feels devotion and adoration through gentle touch above the belt. He likes the sort of all-encompassing feel of being hugged or slightly smothered by your body on his. If you cage his face in with your arms and hands, if you make the world feel shrunken to just the two of you in that moment, Steve melts. He's a goner for that. He likes your weight on his chest--or face because face-sitting is great--but as much skin-to-skin contact as possible is always welcome.

Steve gets oddly thrilled by you placing his body how you'd like. Other than the hair or beard, he enjoys you tugging at him to maximize your own comfort or pleasure. That's often how he learns what drives you crazy, in good and bad ways.

This brings us to, yes, you guessed it: the ass, cock, and balls.

Ironically, very sensitive and erogenous zones that aren't Steve's favorite. Playfully smack his butt at your own peril; he does NOT like that during sex, gang. Lock your legs around him, fine. Dig in with what would be a bruising grip (to anyone normal), go for it. Nomad does not enjoy any sort of impact play. Choose moments outside of intimacy wisely for that.

Touch-starved Stevie is extremely sensitive to outright sexual contact, so he sorta needs a lot of foreplay, sweetness, and closeness before his actual erection is involved. It's just too fast for him otherwise. Then he feels like he's using you. If there's one thing that will make Steve feel shittier than having to kill people, it's using a woman--especially you--for sex and seemingly nothing else.

Does he eventually stop coming so quickly? Sure. He never wants to leave the room without making you feel taken care of, much less actually leaving the property. That makes him feel guilty and miserable.

BUT!!! Don't fret. When he does have longer nights to stay with you, to go multiple rounds, to let you explore him without fuss, then yeah, he gets very excited to let you tease and stroke him and figure out that Steve just literally cannot keep his shit together if you get your mouth on his balls. Lots of licking and kissing. Some sucking. Oh my god... I mean... Nicest way possible? Slut for it. Just saying.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Dirty Asks Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@mrsevans90 @lemonadygirl @umadirectioner

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[zoeykallus]

Can you please please please do a

What made them fall in love with you- Wolffe , Rex, Jesse and fives? ✋🏻🙂‍↕️🤚🏻

Aloha! Oh sure, I love this topic 😊

Wolffe/Rex/Jesse x Reader HCs - How They Fall In Love With You

Warnings: None (Mostly Fluff)

Masterlist

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

Wolffe

How it starts:

It may sound strange, but the first thing he'll notice is that you're neither afraid of him nor condescending towards him. You'd be surprised how many people react negatively to him, partly because he's a clone, but also because his scars give him a slightly wilder appearance. Normal, decent behavior is already a ray of hope for the clone soldier.

You don't turn away, you treat him with respect and even if you find it a little difficult because the grumpy, handsome Wolffe makes you nervous, you maintain eye contact. This immediately makes you more likeable and arouses Wolffe's first cautious curiosity.

What happens next:

You think for yourself, you have your own opinion, even about the clones. You know what you want, and you have that smile that makes his knees go weak. Wolffe is anything but easily impressed, but you fascinate him. He may not be able to say exactly what it is from the start, it's lots of little things.

Wolffe never intended to fall in love, so he doesn't immediately understand the pull he feels when you're around, the pull you exert on him. He is always looking to be close to you, to make contact with you, and at first he doesn't really know why.

He likes your voice, he likes to listen to you, Wolffe admires the way you express your opinion, stubborn but not disrespectful. He's not normally a great talker, but he likes talking to you. Although you occasionally challenge him a little in your conversations, or perhaps precisely because of this, he enjoys your conversations to the full. You make him feel like he belongs, that his opinion is important, no matter what the topic, even if your opinions aren't always exactly the same. You take the time to discuss things with him that are close to his heart, really listen and try to understand. You probably have no idea how much he appreciates this.

In this context, it happens quite unexpectedly, a little smile from you, a look in your eyes, a tone in your voice and Wolffe is lost. He tries to spend every free minute with you. He already has your com number, so he calls you from time to time when he can, sometimes just to hear your voice and makes up some excuse to justify the call.

However, it will take him weeks, maybe even months, to admit to himself and to you that he has a crush. Be patient and try not to push him, sooner or later he will tell you of his own accord.

Rex

How it starts:

The rebellion has brought you together. You may not be a fighter, but you support the rebellion in whatever way you can. Maybe as a caterer, cargo pilot, cook, medic or administrator. No matter how you help, you do your best, and of course Rex notices. He notices the way you treat him and his brothers, you treat them like real heroes, soldiers, their welfare is close to your heart. You admire these men and their fight against the empire, and this is also visible to the outside world.

What happens next:

You keep coming into contact and your manner, your commitment, warms his heart. The fact that someone, who is not a clone, stands by their side in this way gives him hope again and again. After a while, it comes automatically when he sees you, he feels uplifted, hopeful, full of new energy.

It's actually pretty obvious, and yet you sneak into his heart rather than opening the door.

Rex seeks contact with you more and more often, discusses important things concerning the rebellion with you, even if you may not be able to contribute much, he wants to hear your opinion, feel the confidence in your smile, get the feeling that only you can give him, that everything will be all right.

He doesn't know what it is yet, why you have such an intense effect on him. Rex only knows that you are good for him, your smile, your words, your commitment, in whatever way. For him, in a way, it almost feels like you are the most important part of the whole rebellion. Which is nonsense from a rational point of view, of course, but he likes that feeling, he likes you.

The great leader, Rex, comes to rest with you, to find new hope and energy. When Rex returns from a mission, your face is the sign for him, the feeling that he is back home. He has been hopelessly in love for a long time without really knowing it.

Jesse

How it starts:

It's a coincidence that you happen to overhear the three clones talking about how poor the food they're getting is, how they're craving certain things. On impulse, you get some treats and bring them to the three clones (Jesse/Fives/Hardcase) who have been assigned to duty in one of the hangars for a while because of a “little stupidity”. In connection with their punishment, the food has also been restricted to protein bars.

The confused and, shortly afterwards, beaming, delighted faces of the clones make you grin.

Jesse looks up, with a critical eye, and asks, “What's the catch? Why is a Civi bringing us food?”

You laugh amusedly, assuring him that there isn't one, and you just wanted to do something good.

He looks at you indecisively for a moment, but finally goes for the roast chicken he had been craving.

What happens next:

You often pass the hangar on your way to or from work/university/etc., you pass it almost every day. The men greet you cheerfully every time. Again and again you bring food instead of just walking past, and soon you are invited to sit down and eat something too.

Out of curiosity, you ask, “How did the punishment actually come about?”

Jesse answers you, pointing at Fives and saying, “We helped tar and feather a Civi who was being a jerk to his girlfriend”

Fives chuckles, “It was worth it”

Jesse and Hardcase join in the giggles that elicit a grin from you.

“Sounds like you guys did the right thing”

Jesse smirks at you and says, “I agree”

You join the boys more and more regularly, sometimes even helping out a bit, joking and chatting. You like the clones, and they like you. Jesse in particular is very fond of you. The others are already starting to tease him about it, but they're decent enough not to do it in front of you.

He waits every day for you to come over again, he doesn't care about food anymore. He wants to see your face, hear your voice, make jokes with you. You're so nice, so different from other Civis. On the last day of his transfer, he asks for your com number to keep in touch with you.

You don't really expect him to call you, but he does, the very next weekend, and invites you to come to 79's.

You see a lot of clones here, a lot of the same or very similar faces. But apart from Jesse's tattoo, the grin he gives you is also unique. He is so incredibly happy that you actually came.

You sit together in a quieter corner and after a drink or two, Jesse says almost casually, with a wry smile.

“Hey you, I might have a crush on you”

@rintheemolion

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#star wars #clones #clone x reader #rex #captain rex #captain rex x reader #captain rex x you #clone captain rex #rex x reader #rex x you #wolffe #commander wolffe #tcw wolffe #wolffe x reader #clone trooper wolffe #wolffe x you #Jesse #arc trooper jesse #clone wars #jesse x reader #Jesse x you #clone hcs #clone wars hcs

[hornychristianprincess]

NSFW A-Z: WONBIN

a/n: this is just my personal analysis based off my perception and observations of wonbin's personality. all of this is fiction/fantasy

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Immediately after sex, Wonbin wants to be close to you, no matter how sweaty or gross the two of you are. While recovering in bed with you, he’ll be filled with a sort of cocky smugness as he reflects on just how good the sex was. His confidence will be boosted, causing him to be more talkative than usual and say whatever’s been on his mind. Once you’ve both recuperated, he’ll more often than not want to go for another round.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On himself, Wonbin takes a lot of pride in his abs/torso. As a dancer and performer, he works hard to achieve and maintain his physique. I can imagine him having a lot of shirtless pics on his phone.

On his partner, Wonbin is a boob man all day, every day. Regardless of his partner’s size, there’s just something about the softness of them that is comforting to him. Even just feeling them through your shirt during a hug is enough to rile him up.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I think Wonbin is a little finicky when it comes to any sort of mess so I’d say he prefers to come inside of his partner or in a condom. When he’s finished, there’s ease in being able to either throw the condom away or take a shower with you so you can wash up together.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

We all know Wonbin works really hard to maintain this mysterious, cold image, but with a partner who he feels comfortable with, Wonbin is the biggest softie. When he finds someone he loves – a feat on it’s own since he is such an introvert – they become his entire world. He would do anything to please them. He doesn’t want anyone knowing this because of how it would crack this persona he’s crafted for himself.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Wonbin has been handsome his whole life so I would guess he had no shortage of suitors. However, I don’t see him as the type to just go around slinging dick to everybody. It takes a lot for him to take interest in someone and even longer before he’s comfortable initiating sex. Still, I’d venture to say he has some experience under his belt.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Wonbin is a fan of any position where he can comfortably look into your eyes, so usually missionary or cowgirl is what he goes for. Being able to see your expressions as he pleases you is integral to Wonbin’s own pleasure. He likes to maintain intense, searing eye contact with whoever he’s fucking, and these two positions are what most easily allow for that.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

In the lead-up to sex, Wonbin uses jokes to mask how nervous or excited he is. He hopes that by being playful he’ll come off as cool. Once the sex actually begins though, he is deadly serious and intense. He becomes too focused on either giving or receiving pleasure to find anything funny. It’s similar to how he is when he performs on stage; Wonbin on stage and Wonbin off stage are two different people. Off stage, he can be personable and charming, but once he gets into performance mode, he takes what he’s doing so seriously that he can’t consider anything else.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Wonbin only bothers to groom himself when he has a partner, otherwise he can’t be bothered. In the beginnings of a relationship, he appreciates it when his partner puts in the effort to shave. But once you’ve been together for a while and built that camaraderie, he couldn’t care less.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

I think Wonbin enjoys receiving intimacy but not giving intimacy if that makes sense. Like he is fully comfortable with saying romantic things to you and watching as it makes you get worked up and emotional. But the moment when you do the same and he starts to get overwhelmed with emotion, he’ll be quick to hide his face in your neck or bite your shoulder to hold back his whines. As I’ve already alluded to, he shies away from anything that would put a crack in his mysterious persona. In other words, emotional vulnerability is difficult for him but he’s more than happy to hold space for and even provoke your own expressions of emotional intimacy.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Wonbin masturbates rarely and mostly as a means to either let off stress or cure boredom. I see him masturbating the most in the shower after a long day of work, allowing his worries to release down the drain. In many ways, I see him as someone who only appreciates masturbation for its basic utility rather than for the pleasure it brings. To him, sex is a pleasure best enjoyed with a partner.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

overstimulation (giving and receiving): Wonbin is turned on by the idea of fucking until you both literally can’t anymore. To do that requires draining each other’s bodies for all of the energy they have. This man likes to go for rounds. And he won’t want to stop until you both can’t move.

marking (giving and receiving): seeing marks on each other’s skin after sex is a pride point for Wonbin. It’s evidence of just how good the sex was. when receiving, Wonbin likes scratches on his back or even a bloody lip after a passionate kiss. When giving, Wonbin likes seeing the fleeting mark of his handprint on your ass after he smacks it, and more longlasting, hickies on every part of your body.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Wonbin doesn’t have any location preference. He is honestly down to fuck you any time, any place. Still, he’s aware that his partner would likely feel most comfortable to let loose in the privacy of a bedroom, so he’s fine with that.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Before sex even comes to mind for him, he is turned on by a person who is a little hard to get. Because he is so used to the attention of potential suitors. It’s easier to get his attention by not trying to pursue him at all, at least initially. Additionally, he is attracted to unique people with lots of confidence in themselves and their interests. 

What motivates him sexually is feeling a strong level of trust with his partner. What also motivates him is his desire to please. I think Wonbin sometimes has thoughts of not being enough for a person. He sees sex as being the thing that could make someone stay if they feel like he’s lacking in other places. When he fucks, he makes the pleasure of his partner his biggest priority. He is turned on by their reactions and praise. In many ways, he sees praise of his sexual abilities as an affirmation of his personhood. Sex is one of his ways of expressing his love. Whenever he feels a strong surge of love for you romantically, it will immediately translate to him wanting to fuck you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He’s turned off by someone who makes him feel even slightly judged for who he is as a person. I mentioned earlier that he likes people who play hard to get, but once you get past those initial meetings that define the beginning of the relationship, he has little tolerance for indifference. He wants his partner to be just as into him as he is into them.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Wonbin loves both giving and receiving head. As mentioned in my last answer, Wonbin is a huge giver. What turns him on about giving head is seeing his partner’s satisfied expressions and knowing that he possesses the power to make them feel euphoric in this way. And being the man he is, he loves to receive head. He finds you sexiest when you’re salivating over his dick, begging to have it in your mouth even after you’ve already made him come so many times this way before.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

By and large, I think his pace is dependent on whatever his partner asks of him at that moment or whatever he thinks is gonna feel the best for you. Usually he’ll start out slow just to get a feel for the rhythm of things, but he’ll have his moments where the sex starts to feel so good that he’ll get overwhelmed and start rutting into you roughly.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies aren’t Wonbin’s favorite way to fuck, but he’s also not at all opposed to them. It’s not something that happens often, especially because he likes to carve out substantial time with you so that he’s not having to rush intimacy. Still, in moments where you only have a few moments to yourselves, he’d rather have you for a short time than not at all.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

There is nothing inherently satisfying about taking risks for Wonbin. Rather, he can become so turned on by his partner that his desire outweighs any fear. If you and Wonbin are in public and he finds himself enthralled by you in some way, he has no problem with pulling you aside and having his way with you, or even playing with you under the table during a public dinner. The risk of getting caught is irrelevant if not meaningless to him. Were he ever to get caught, he would be quick to shut down any teasing or outside conversation. He prefers to keep the private life of himself and his partner out of the conversations of others.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again – rounds rounds rounds rounds. In each round, Wonbin’s first priority is to make you come, and with that in mind, he is able to hold back on his own orgasm for however long he needs to. After each round, he does need some time to recuperate, but once he’s good, he’ll be ready and needy for more. On a perfect day with Wonbin you’ll fuck, watch a movie, get bored and fuck again, get some food, fuck, and just keep going in that pattern until you collapse in bed tiredly by the end of the day. Once he’s done though, he’s done. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Wonbin is open to both using toys and having toys used on him. While he’s fucking you, I could see him reaching over to a bedside drawer, grabbing a vibrator and using it to stimulate your clit while he gives you long, deep thrusts. Conversely, if you were to incorporate a vibrator or cock ring while giving him head, he might just cry like a baby. All in all, anything that can be used to enhance both of your pleasures’ is a win for him. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Wonbin is only a tease outside of the bedroom. Inside it, he gets right to the point and doesn’t have the patience to delay anything by teasing you. His focus is on making the both of you feel good. To him, pleasure is a feeling best enjoyed when instantaneous rather than to be delayed by pointless lollygagging.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Wonbin only allows groans and grunts to come out when he feels like they sound dignified and gruff. The moment a whine threatens to come out, he’s quick to bite your shoulder to hold it back. If a means of hiding his whines isn’t immediately accessible, he’ll just look and sound really pained as he fights to hold back what he’s feeling. He always wants to appear composed and in control of his reactions.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

“I love you,” he’d say, a breezy tiredness to his voice as he fucked you for what felt like the tenth time that night. “So, so much.”

These were the sort of inclinations Wonbin would get every time he was inside you. The soft, sentimental part of him is something you only got to see, something you managed to bring out of him so easily with the pleasure of your sex. The closer he got to coming, the rougher and more restless he come feel himself being. He pinned your wrists against the bed, eyes never leaving yours as his thrusts increased in impact.

“You’re mine forever, Y/N. No one can fuck you as good as I do. You belong to me,” he’d growl, each thrust punctuated by a kiss from his signature star shaped necklace, hanging from his neck and dragging up your face. You were close, and he could tell, the feeling of you clenching around him plus the telltale shutting of your eyes giving it away. Longing to be close to you in these moments, his face collapses onto yours as he initiates a languid, messy kiss.

“Come for me. Wet me,” he’d pull away to command. “Wanna feel you drip down my cock, pretty girl.” Those were the last words you were able to register before you were launched into the most powerful orgasm of your life, Wonbin following after you with a poorly suppressed whine only shortly after.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I don’t have any strong inclinations either way. I just know that whatever he lacks in the sack he more than makes up for in other areas. Whatever his size is, it gives him no reason to not feel confident in his sexual abilities.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

I’d say his sex drive is pretty average. Sex with him is pretty physically demanding so it often happens that you fuck 1-3 times a week with a day or two between each time. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Once he’s gotten all the rounds out of his system, his energy is completely depleted. He’ll sleep like a baby.

#wonbin smut #park wonbin #wonbin #riize smut #riize #riize fluff #riize angst #wonbin fluff #wonbin angst #wonbin riize smut #wonbin riize fics #partk wonbin smut #park wonbin fluff #park wonbin angst #wonbin riize angst #wonbin riize fluff

[tieflingkisser]

Stop Trying To Defeat Racism With Logic

There's a black samurai in the new Assassin's Creed game, and it has made some people mad. You simply don't have to argue about it.

The new Assassin’s Creed game is set in feudal Japan, which is cool. It stars what appears to be a female ninja and a black samurai based on the historical figure Yasuke, which is also cool. Anyone who tries to argue about whether or not that’s cool is just not worth your time. In case you haven’t been paying attention for the last ten or twenty years, video game culture tends to be a repository for the most tedious people on Earth. You know the type—these are the kinds of people who don’t consider mobile games to be “real games,” or who harass women who use their mics in online multiplayer games, or who argue about “historical accuracy” in a video game that has dragons or elves in it. These kinds of people show up in a lot of nerdy hobbies, like tabletop gaming or whatever it is people do on Letterboxd or even enjoying Greek and Roman history. From the moment that the key art for Assassin’s Creed Shadows depicted a black man in samurai garb, I knew that this particular brand of person was going to get ripshit mad. Just look at the replies to this tweet. It’s absolute nonsense in there.  The most amusing replies are the ones that take into question the, of course, historical accuracy of this character. It may be tempting to try to argue with these people, for a lot of reasons, most of all that history and facts are on your side. This character appears to be based on Yasuke, a real guy who actually existed in the historical record. He was an African retainer for warlord Oda Nobunaga, meaning that he was indeed a samurai. Yasuke is a well known enough figure that he’s the subject of a Netflix anime that is named after him. He’s also a character in Nioh, which was developed by the Japanese studio Team Ninja. You can repeat those facts until you’re blue in the face to people who are determined to be angry about a black man having a leading role in this game, but it won’t matter. You should just save your breath and look forward to seeing whether or not Ubisoft fumbles this very easy layup. Racism isn’t a logical position, so you cannot defeat it with logic. Facts just don’t matter to a racist, especially not the tedious kind of racist who makes their home in video game culture. There will always be a new hair to split, a new way for this kind of person to object to a black man being in this video game. You can bring up the other fantabulous aspects of the Assassin’s Creed franchise that clash with history: the existence of the titular Creed and the Knights Templar; whatever the fuck was going on with the Apples of Eden; the series’ depiction of Karl Marx as a devotee of democracy rather than advocating for an armed revolution of the proletariat. It does not matter because the people who are mad about this have already made up their mind.  To them, Japan is a place that does not and has never had black people live there or make their homes there at any point in time—especially in history. The anger about “historical accuracy” is just a slightly more reasonable smokescreen for their real objection: having to see a black person at all. Unfortunately, blackness and black people have always been inescapable, both now and in the past. I’m not going anywhere, and I won’t be dragged into an argument about the value of my very existence.

#assassin's creed #assassin's creed shadows #racism #antiblackness #news

[vickyvicarious]

just thought about how the boss' description just tells Dracula how easily abused Jonathan will be: discreet. silent. shall take your instructions in all matters.

and jonathan beamed about it

Hang on, I actually wrote an analysis of what Dracula would take from that letter last year, let me grab it. Okay, here it is.

If you read that, then... yeah I agree, Dracula absolutely is delighted at this letter. He definitely takes it in a very "this man will be great fun to toy with" way.

But that's not what Mr. Hawkins meant writing it, or what Jonathan sees reading it. In fact, Dracula's the one reading much more into it than the intended message, which is a lot of praise.

“I must regret that an attack of gout, from which malady I am a constant sufferer, forbids absolutely any travelling on my part for some time to come; but I am happy to say I can send a sufficient substitute, one in whom I have every possible confidence. He is a young man, full of energy and talent in his own way, and of a very faithful disposition. He is discreet and silent, and has grown into manhood in my service. He shall be ready to attend on you when you will during his stay, and shall take your instructions in all matters.”

It seems that Mr. Hawkins was originally supposed to come on this trip, but for health reasons he's been forced to delegate. Now, we the readers know that Jonathan is a brand-new solicitor thanks to his thoughts outside the castle. Mr. Hawkins obviously knows that too. So this rich foreign noble isn't getting the experienced lawyer he expected, but someone who basically just graduated. You don't want to disappoint the guy paying your salary, so he's got to manage this situation. He may well have told Dracula some time ago about the switch, but this is Jonathan's official letter of introduction, so it's time to pull out all the stops.

He says, this guy is great at his job and I trust him completely. I admit, he's clearly very young (aside: babyface Jonathan confirmed), but I've known him for a while, personally trained him, and can definitely vouch for him. Solicitors may be privy to lots of information, but he isn't going to break your confidence, I promise. He's a hard worker and will be able to help you with whatever you need, so don't worry about me not being there. Even if it's not exactly what we've discussed prior to now, he'll be able to help you with other legal matters too, just as I would have if my health allowed me to come. Don't fire us, give him a shot.

Neither Mr. Hawkins nor Jonathan are looking at this paragraph for anything outside of a professional interpretation, and there's a certain amount of polite exaggeration going on too probably. Discreet is a virtue for a lawyer. When he says all matters it's assumed that means legal matters. And so on.

Is it open to sinister interpretation? Oh, hell yes. But that's not what Mr. Hawkins (talking up his replacement to a client) meant, or what Jonathan (my boss believes in me and has entrusted me with a great opportunity, I've got to prove him right by doing a great job here) hears.

#dracula daily #mr. hawkins #jonathan harker #anonymous #replies #keepin' this spoiler free for ya in case you're a new reader but i have one more thought held in reserve haha #dracula meta

[wesleysniperking]

Usopp isn’t an Underdog (TL;DR)

If we really take the time to look at it, in a very practical way. An a**pull isn’t really an a**pull. Or whatever way powerscalers like to get red in the face for.

I think a lot of people and One Piece fans have been going about Usopp in the wrong way. If you feel you haven’t, that’s fine. But for the past couple of weeks when on my break, I came to the realization after reading a book (I’ll give the title later) that when considering the genre One Piece falls under and who it’s catered to, it has indeed been a hindrance for Usopp, and even the writer, Oda. Why? Because Oda is as predictable as he is unpredictable. The same can be said for Usopp.

What do I mean by that?

Before I even get into how smart and great Usopp is, I want to state a point. A lot of people are right, Usopp is inevitably a target. Forget about the Sanji v Zoro rap sessions, or Gear 5's overpowered characteristics. Because copium or not, what Oda is doing to Usopp is intentional. When people say that Oda intended for Usopp to always be the weakest it sometimes bothered me. Not because I want him to be crazy f**kin strong. Or that my expectations are aimless. But that statement always bothered me because it seemed like those people were trying to make it a point to say that there’s nothing left for Usopp. He’s regressed and is fodder. Those two years spent on that island, Boin, with his quirky mentor Heracles was all for naught. Everyone else got these nice trainers, and Usopp’s wasn’t as nearly cool. This pained me to even just think about it. And all this shade is something I'm quoting, I don't believe any of these bad things said about Usopp. I stress this.

But I’m actually starting to embrace this aspect. No, the haters didn’t cause me to resign to their stupid agenda or hate bon*r. But they made me realize (including the book I just read), that Oda is writing Usopp perfectly. I kid you not. It took a whole analysis on David and Goliath to really make me think.

For starters, in general, us mortals (or humans) have a really twisted way of looking at the odds, or the underdog. We often think that the Goliaths are these powerful beings. We think that when we find ourselves up against these stronger people we’re at a disadvantage. Despite the One Piece fandom having a vague idea of what Usopp’s underdog status represents and how Shonen grades “weak characters”, I think this brings forward that fact. Therefore, Usopp is a weak little a**hole no one gives a shit about, and if they do, it’s to prove a point (very passionately indeed) that he’s nothing but fodder and Oda has forgotten about him. But wait. Due to our twisted way of thinking, this is where Oda is challenging us. From the start we were at first under the idea that Luffy was at a disadvantage a few times when he was up against certain villains like Arlong or Crocodile, but Oda and Luffy proved to us a few times afterwards that this small Strawhat had what it took. He had balls.

But Usopp’s journey is much more unique and complex.

I must admit, the Usopp haters sometimes get to me. I’m human. It happens. But after reading the book and a eureka moment happened, I understood that Oda was baiting the haters, HE IS BAITING THE HATERS. He’s baiting his audience. For the last three weeks, it was as though everyone couldn’t stop trash-talking Usopp, I started to go crazy. I spent 5 days straight arguing with this a**hole on YouTube who just wanted to prove and beat into my f**cking head that Usopp is “the butt” of the crew. “He’ll never be as strong as Luffy”, “He spent two years on an island and suffered from Obesity. A joke my friend”, and “Nami’s even stronger than him. He’s useless and disloyal”. Ugh!!! Anywho, I understood after reading the book that a**hats like him are what Oda wants. He’s making fun of and light-heartedly taking advantage of Usopp getting sh*tted upon. One Piece is a Shonen manga, baby! But Oda isn’t a conventional writer (that’s what makes One Piece the GOAT).

So, Oda is taking into consideration how flawed humans are in thinking what a powerful person is. He knows we think the Goliaths are the ones who have a chance of winning, when in fact, the Davids are just as formidable. If he had Usopp “take a back seat” in Wano, it was intentional.

When David stepped out behind that protective barrier to defend his people, King Saul stopped him and said “Dude, there’s no way you’re winning this.” Saul was wrong because he thought Goliath had this fight in the bag. And we know who really had the fight in the bag. And if there’s one thing to very strongly note, one thing to consider in the David and Goliath battle is that David was a projectile fighter fighting an infantryman. David was so talented with a sling that he could’ve shot that pebble through Goliath's head so deep it was practically a hot bullet—the stone/pebble David used equated to a bullet during biblical times. And he did "stun" Goliath. The worst opponent for an infantry fighter is in fact a projectile fighter because infantry fighters require making close contact to land multiple blows on an enemy. But projectile fighters can counteract that quickly with just one shot. Therefore, Usopp is at an advantage more than we think due to Usopp’s quick thinking and ammo as well. He just needs to position himself correctly up against the right opponent, and bang!

So, in this 20+ years journey, Oda has taken advantage of Usopp’s character. He wants US to undermine Usopp so badly. So that when Usopp has his biggest moment, it’ll break the fandom.

“No way! How could Usopp win that?!” “OMG. What a major a**pull!” “Damn, he one shot the hell outta [insert future adversary]!”

That finicky little word, a**pull made its appearance again. But nah, it wasn’t an a**pull.

Why?

Because David was never at a disadvantage when he fought Goliath.

Related Link 1 (more similarities between Usopp and David are discussed here)

Related Link 2

Related Link 3

photo link credit

Work Cited:

Gladwell, M. (2013). David and Goliath: Underdogs, Misfits, and the Art of Battling Giants. Little, Brown and Company.

#elbaf #elbaf arc #one piece #usopp #op usopp #one piece usopp #god usopp #sniper king usopp #usopp one piece #straw hat usopp #sniper king #captain usopp #David and Goliath #king David #warrior #warrior king #brave warrior of the sea #under dog #underdog #wesleysniperking #anime #manga #interpretation #blog

[quimichi]

Hi, I was hoping I could get a genshin and HSR match up if they're still open? I use she/her pronouns, and I have a romantic preference for men. I'm a big time introvert and not one for small talk but I always try to be polite and kind. I've been described as being too sensible by multiple people but I will also laugh at some of the dumbest stuff. My hobbies include writing, drawing and cooking, generally I like anything creative. I hope this is okay and that you have a lovely day!

A/n: I really hope you like my answer! I just thought that someone who can understand and appreciate you would fit so much more better than the opposite ♡

FREMINET

@ awww look at those two introverts in love ♡

@ understands you all to well. You want your peace and quite? He'll leave you to yourself and lets you draw, take a nap, read or whatever.

@ greatly appreciates if you'd do the same, but only really rarely. He does enjoy your company a lot! You bring him internal peace. Just having you sit beside him while he works on a new project really gives him motivation.

@ psst, he wants to show off, just a little ;)

@ takes you diving with him! I hope you're not scared of the ocean tho- if you are, he'll guide you through it. He never lets go of your hand, even if it means that he will have a constant blush on his face and butterflys in his tummy. If you really are way, WAY to scared tho, he would obviously never force you. You two just walk by the shore collecting some seashells!

@ and if you love/like the ocean, he would shyly ask you if you wanna join him. Like everytime he would ask you. Or at least if you wanna wait for him by the shore.

@ LOVES LOVES LOVES to see your drawings, if you wanna show them that is. He can also draw yk, so someone who shares the same talent would also mean for him to share his supplies. Dw, take them without asking, it's a relationship after all.

@ and if you want you can make designs for his toy projects for the kids!

@ Is just as sensitive as you, maybe more, maybe less. But what is definitely a fact, is that he will comfort you nonetheless. Depends on how you wanna be comforted tho. Bit i think his style would be, have a cup of tea and let it aaaall out. Vent on him, he can listen well.

@ the twins think you two were meant to be-! Really supportive of you two.@ And Father is just as happy, she can't show it, but you're part of the family now sooo...you better not hurt her boy :)

DAN HENG

@ well--if you love writing, you're prefect with dan heng cause he loves reading-

@ would understand if you don't want him to read your written pieces, but would feel very honored if you would show him. Even just a glimpse would get him to praise you.

@ if you do show him--damn he would unintentionally correct your grammar or phrasing. Not that he shits on your grammar, its just-idk how to describe it he means it really nice but in dan heng style it comes off more as cold

@ and the corrections of your phrasings are just ideas on how to change things or make it more interesting. He probably read more books than the whole astral express crew together, like easily.

@ thats why he would get it if you don't wanna show him---he's aware lol

@ BUT! what he would do 100% and nobody can stop him, is reading to you ♡

@ lay in his arms and relax. Let his soothing voice lull you to sleep~ And if you wanna read on your own, do that, he'll wait for you to turn the page.

@ would also 100% discuss what you two read afterwards lol. Like a lil bookclub

@ he can actually cook, very well too. But he always says his skills are nowhere near yours, even if you deny it, he stands his point.

@ gracefully DEVOURS your food and asks for a second plate ♡

@ oh look, someone who also hates small take, yay. You two were so awkward at the beginning of the whole relationship. The beginning of the whole meeting each other for the first time too!

@ it was definitely him who took all the first steps. Even more awkward cause....he only knows the most things form books cause he has no real life experience-

@ made the mistake of asking March-the things he went through just for you-you better be greatful (jkjk)

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #quimichi #match up #genshin impact x reader #freminet x reader #hsr #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng x reader #dan heng #freminet

[rubenhopclap]

I'm bringing this to you instead of making my own post because I'm not sure I'm qualified to make an observation, but it's kinna weird Ruben explicitly goes to Fig's domain in Hell to essentially be her slave/sweat shop worker, right?

Yes, my take is that this is actually kinda icky. For clarity, I am only part white but entirely nonblack.

It was obviously entirely not intentional. I wouldn't be surprised if no Intrepid Hero other than Lou has actually thought about Ruben as a Black character. It is in these moments of essentially colorblind thoughtlessness that accidentally icky things happen sometimes.

It is also very much muddied by the fantasy elements.

It's already canon that Fig has control of a whole lot of people and what they're going to do for eternity. If we didn't have this fantasy lens that'd be pretty fucked up! Fig felt bad earlier this season about making a guy rock who didn't want to. Hell is fucked up. The status quo of the world that they live in (the hierarchy of which Fig is part of) is fucked up.

It isn't fair to Fig to completely remove the fantasy lens when looking at that moment. But yes, it's also kinda established that the place Ruben is being punished is Fig's recording studio, which she intends to use to benefit her career and most likely financially profit.

Emily was not thinking about this. (Fig wasn't thinking about this either, she's huffing rage dust or whatever, etc.) Let's just go ahead and assume she meant only cords that are specifically unspooled for him to spool, like a recording studio themed Sisyphus. That's the place hell traditionally is. When the devil jabs you with a pitchfork, he's not traditionally selling your blood. That's the touchstone in her head when she very quickly thinks about what she's going to make happen.

It's still an icky moment, even if this gets reversed next episode. It makes me go "eugh" to think about. I don't expect anything from the cast for that. They are improv comedians. In order for them to be funny, they have to be free enough that sometimes! Icky things get through the filter.

It's still worth acknowledging.

The fandom for this show can spot potentially racist implications when Grix casts Dominate Monster on Riz.

We can spot it when Ivy says Mazey could be "worn like a coat."

The fandom for this show can spot the racial dynamic of Gorgug, a half-orc adopted by gnomes, pursuing both Artifice and Barbarianism and rocking the shit out of both. We can spot what it might parallel when Porter makes that difficult for him, when people don't believe that these two things can work together.

Meanwhile I literally saw someone call Henry Hopclap a racist who thinks "cute little gnomes" can't be real artificers, because he referred to Gorgug's parents as tinkerers who taught him practical engineering. (This person was confused and thought Henry was a halfling when they formed this opinion, so set that to the side, it changes nothing about the point here.)

What does it mean if a fandom can be prepared to rush to Gorgug's defense and label Henry a racist for having a mildly abrasive manner, but that same fandom can't spot the dynamics invoked when a young educated Black man is confident in his education and even dares to imply that he might be more educated than some white people he met at a DIY fair?

What does it mean if we can spot any potential slight of members of fictional races who symbolize targets of racism, but have nothing to say when a Black character's soul passes (violently) to the control of a white* character, and that white* character tells him she's going to make him do menial labor for the rest of his eternal life? (*I know she's a tiefling, fantasy racism isn't real racism, but I hope we can at least all agree that she's definitely nonblack.)

It's worth pointing out.

And yes btw, I understand that there's defensiveness on Emily's behalf because of the extreme misogyny she has been subjected to by fans in the past. That's fucked up and it isn't okay. This isn't a reason to harass her either. It's not even something to judge her entire character about. But the fear that it might fuel that shouldn't prevent us from ever being able to acknowledge when moments like this happen.

#fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #fhjy spoilers #ruben hopclap #henry hopclap #racism cw #antiblackness cw #fandom racism #fandom antiblackness

[colourstreakgryffin]

Loona x female!bird!soft reader headcanons

Hehe! Awww! I haven’t written for Loo-Loo yet! Pretty excited to see how Loona is with an opposite-personality gf, all for Bisexual Loona!

Loona- Fuzzy Kisses

You are Loona’s bisexual awakening and she doesn’t know how to feel… she really thought she liked only men and liked only Vortex but all of the sudden, you scooted into her life and now, she can’t stop blushing at the sight of you

Loona struggles to court you at first, like… a lot but eventually with support and some months of friendship, she ends up winning the heart of the beautiful bird demon girl called you and now… you’re dating and it both terrifies and excites Loona to her core

Loona refuses to admit it but she loves how feathery and warm you are. So, she’ll just sneakily lay her head on your lap whilst glued to her phone so she can deflect you trying to point it out… she isn’t doing anything!

Loona’s a fluffy wolf Hellhound and you’re a soft raven bird demon… the irony is there but also precious. She is the predator but she’s defeated by merely how beautiful you are

Loona will absolutely use her tail to keep you warm. If you’re cold or uncomfortable, suspect to feel Loona’s fluffy long tail curl around your body whilst she is still scrolling on her phone or reading an margarine quietly

Loona is quiet, she’s antisocial and doesn’t do the best at parties but if you want to go out to abnormal date at some restaurant or café, or just want to go enjoy a Beelzebub house party, she’ll accompany you to ‘protect you’ but mainly to make you happy

Loona also tries to deflect anybody mentioning she is dating you… she isn’t trying to refuse the relationship, more push off the embarrassment of it being thrown out publicly. It’s just so humiliating that people find her affection for you funny to point out

Loona is a hard Tsundere at heart. She never means to hurt you when she acts all tough and harsh, she just gets flustered so easily and she doesn’t know how to handle her feelings well… be patient with her, she does love you

Loona will genuinely try to comfort you should she accidentally make you cry when being a bit aggressive, since you’re just… so beautiful and it hurts her heart to know you’re upset or scared of her. She’ll try hard and she tries by peppering you with presents and blankets and cuddles, even offering her tail for you to play with. Whatever she can to make you smile again

Like her adoptive father, Blitzø, Loona does struggle with openly expressing herself but she does try since you always do so much for her. She does and she is getting better with telling you what she wants and how she feels

Loona loves it when you brush your hair, she tries her hardest to not show it but she can’t stop her tail thumping on the ground and her ears drawing down. It feels so good, your hands raking through her pretty messy soft hair with the brush… she hates people touching her but you’re the only exception and Blitzø

Loona actually kinda likes the whole opposites girlfriends thing you and her have. She’s cynical and barky, you’re optimistic and gentle-hearted. She’s hard as nails, you’re softer than a cloud. She’ll protect you with her life and you’ll calm her down effortlessly

Loona only really trusts Blitzø to talk about her infatuation with you and talk about how much she likes you, her adoptive father always listens to her so she can just simp as much as she wants without being judged

Talking about Blitzø, Loona takes a while dating you to feel comfortable enough to introduce you to her father and when you come over to the apartment to have dinner with him, the Imp immediately jumps into treating you as his daughter-in-law since he is confident his Loony-Toony has found herself her soulmate

Loona will also let you do her makeup and if anybody says her makeup looks shit, she’ll personally rip their heads off for daring to insult your work. She looks beautiful, thanks to you and she won’t take any shit. Her precious girlfriend did this and little things like that means a lot to her

You supporting and defending Loona like Blitzø does strengthen her growing trust and growing desire to open up. She doesn’t have both with you right away but everytime you do something for her, the more she feels like she can be attached to you with nothing going wrong

Loona is so afraid you’ll end up replacing her with somebody else that her insecurity sometimes bleed out the rare times you two argue. She needs reassurance that you only want her… a lot

Loona values anything you give her. Even give her a simple phone case and she’s using it the next day. She likes to picture that your heart is inside the gifts you give her and it makes her feel… well, happy. Since it means she has you with her, even when you’re not in front of her

Loona defends you and your personality. You’re purer than any angel up in Heaven and she’d be damned if she let anybody rip up your spirits. You’re such a likeable soul that she will happily listen to you chatter for hours

Loona is a deep listener, as confirmed with her knowing Blitzø so well, and remembers very small details so well, she can identify how he acts. Your little habits or behaviours, she picks them up and she can read how you feel at times or what you may mean fluently

Loona out here using her precious sparkly puppydog eyes on you so you’ll try on goth/emo style for her, just to make her mentally drool over you. Wow, you look… well… hot

To sum it all up, Loona isn’t the BEST girlfriend in Hell, nobody is but she loves you deeply and she’ll try her best for you, since you always do it all back for her. She knows you and she feels like you understand her so well, the opposite personalities don’t matter to her. Who you are matters to her, she is just in love, nothing more to say…

Loona doesn’t know how to feel when she sees your bird mannerisms. She often just thinks ‘cute’

“Eh— you… want to go to that shithole for a party, Babe? Uh… I guess… ugh. Okay, okay. Fine, fine. We can go but stay with me, alright? I don’t want any creeps or that fucking honeycomb Sin touching you. We can dance together”

#helluva boss imagine #helluva boss imagines #helluva boss characters #helluva boss x reader #vivziepop helluva boss #vivziepop #helluva boss #helluva boss loona #helluva loona #loona #headcanons #romantic headcanons #romantic #romantic loona #romantic loona x reader #girlfriend stuff #girlfriend headcanons #helluva boss fluff #fluff imagines #loona buckzo #helluva boss romance #kiss lesbians being cute #helluvaverse #hellaverse #loona hellhound #cute fluff #fluff headcanons #Loona is so underrated #bisexual Loona go brrrr