#I have so many thoughts about these two that I could not articulate in a tumblr post. they miss each other so so much | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

palossssssand · 6 months

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Reconciliation

Old dome squadmates Trito and Kinoga get together at Trito’s place to catch up after years apart and a meeting by chance on the surface.

⚠️Warning for suggestive content below + implied chest trauma

After several weeks of chipping away at this, the comic is finally done! Very happy to have rendered a full 7 pages of oc stuff. Please give it a read!!

read the full 7 page comic on twitter! <-please do not click if you are a minor and view at your own discretion, this link contains explicit 18+ content. Thank you!

For the lore, includes stuff from splatoon Octo Expansion: Trito and Kinoga were a part of an octarian military squad living in the domes, Kinoga being their squad leader that many looked up to and admired. There were 6 of them who considered each other to be their closest friends. Upon hearing about the tests from Kamabo Co. and the allure of the Promised Land, Kinoga wished to seek it out in order to find a better life for their squadmates. A difficult decision, since it meant leaving them all behind, promising to come back and take them there.

Kinoga enters the metro trials and soon realizes that the Promised Land isn’t what they expected, their hope crumbling when they encounter one of their sanitized squadmates Agara, who followed suit to the metros soon after. Kinoga narrowly escapes, eventually making a break for the surface, carrying the shame of unwilling to return for their squadmates with them (it’s justified, of course, there might not be an easy way in, they might get caught again, Agara is gone)

Trito enters the Metro not too long after Kinoga does, wanting to catch up to them, and an accident that occurs in a test early on results in Trito’s near sanitization, giving him his scar. Terrified, and realizing what happens to his fellow octolings, Trito is unable to return to his squadmates, not wanting to break the news of their loved ones’ untimely fates. He hides away on the Metro until the events of OE happen and Agent 8 dismantles Kamabo, opening an opportunity to escape to the surface. Unwilling to face the possibilities of going back, Trito takes his chance to leave, starting a new life and feeling that it’s for the best if he doesn’t acknowledge it, though he missed his friends dearly.

Years later, Trito and Kinoga run into each other on the streets of Splatsville by chance, and the implications of them both being on the surface and alive hit them, having to carry the burden of leaving their loved ones behind and finding out the truth, knowing the other felt exactly the same, not knowing the fate of their squadmates and not wanting to think about the possibility of them being gone. They have a tearful reunion about it, and set up a meet later, to sit down and really talk, and get into a brief argument when the topic of returning to the domes comes up. Trito’s in disbelief that Kinoga never went back down to check on the rest of their squad, wanting them to have been a better person than him, who was too cowardly to do so. Eventually they do reconcile, and end up at Trito’s place to hook up, where the above comic takes place :]

#my art #my ocs #splatoon #suggestive #trito #kinoga #aaahhhhhh this is finally done!!!!#a small drabble turned into a sketch turned into a full fledged rendered comic. blowing up #in any case I hope people enjoy this as much as I do…they are so everything to me #splatoon ocs #I have so many thoughts about these two that I could not articulate in a tumblr post. they miss each other so so much #its about the. I’ve known your body. and coming back after years and going oh…this is new…#there’s no context where trito would be able to reveal this to kinoga except for boning #only kinoga could look at it and immediately understand. sparing him the pain of explaining what happened and reliving it #if it had been anyone else he probably would have stopped them the moment the hand went under the sweater #but he’s just so so caught in the moment of the reunion. and the everything . Auughhhh #stealing this from a friend but theyve changed and they haven’t changed at all. I’m going to be ill #chest trauma #‘what if they explored each others bodies’ or whatever. okay #if it wasnt clear enough or implied trito and kimoga are octolings from the underground domes #nsft #oh and the. really long lore explanation <33 teehee #they are so so much #not partners but more than friends. secret third thing. guh #its about holding each other so tightly and physically for confirmation that they weren’t seeing things and that the other was Really There #like the fate of their friends not on their mind constantly and then it all comes flooding back and all of a sudden it opens the door #for finding the others and now they won’t have to go back and face the possibility alone #IM GOING TO BE SICK!!!!!!!!!!!!#this has got to be the most ive rambled in the tags I’ve just been rotatinf them with fado for the past barely a month and they are #tritonoga

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remcycl333 · 5 months

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my sp story <3

hi besties! if you've been following my blog for a while you know that i've been single for a while, partly because i like to be independent and single, and partly because i just didn't like anyone. obviously i could just manifest a guy out of thin air, but when im not confronted face to face with a crush then i just don't care about being in a relationship so i never manifested someone out of thin air lol

but then a couple of weeks ago i was at the movies with my friends, and there were couples cuddling around us and i was like "aw :( kinda wish i had a bf now." and what do we do when we feel any type of desire? we immediately fulfill ourselves, no matter how "small" the desire is! so that's what i did. i imagined for like two seconds that i was cuddling with a boy at the theaters, and then i got distracted by the movie and forgot all about it

then like 15 minutes later, a guy that i'd had a crush on four years ago randomly slid into my dms. i never pursued him four years ago bc my bff at the time had dibs on him, but we're not friends anym and haven't been for years so it was my time to shine!!!

anyway, we talk for like a week. i know this guy is funny and shit bc of when we hung out irl, but like all he's sending me are unfunny memes that don't really warrant a response. so it was kinda tough

and this is the part where you guys are going to yell at me!!! i was like oh i should use my manifestation skills and make sure this goes smoothly....but then i was like nah im just gonna go with the flow 😭😭😭 and i know you guys are like REM!!!! u manifest EVERYTHING u can't just turn it off!!!! anyway.....long story short a week into us talking this mf randomly blocks me!!!!

so im instantly like 🙄🙄 damn fine i'll manifest him back bc im stubborn and do not like being told no in my reality

so how did i do it? how did i manifest him back?

if you guys have followed me for a while, you know that i manifested an sp a couple years ago by simply affirming "i love [his name] so much" any time i'd think of him and this would conjure the feeling of the wish fulfilled. (NOT mindless affirming. i'd say it maybe two or three times to catch the feeling and then move on)

ANYWAY so that's what i did! and let me tell you....i was not "perfect" by any means 😭 in fact this manifestation really kinda opened my eyes on how EASY manifestation truly is. like i already knew how easy it was, but damn!

if you know that your desire is promised and that it is coming because you gave it to yourself in imagination (even ONCE) ... there is NOTHING that will stop it. i was gonna make a separate post on this and i tried but i just couldn't articulate it correctly so im going to try again:

it took 12 days to manifest him to unblock me and message me. im sure it would've taken a shorter amount of time if i was more disciplined with myself but it's kinda crazy bc of how UNdisciplined i was 😭 tbh i was just kinda like...unsure if i even wanted to manifest him at all bc thats how much i value my alone time and my independence lol

anyway, i always get asks from people who are stressed and anxious bc they think that in order to manifest your desire, you can never enter the state of lack ever again and that dwelling in negative thoughts will "ruin" your manifestations. but i am here to tell you IT DOES NOT MATTER!!! you do not need to be "perfect"!!!! as long as you are staying faithful to the idea that you have your desire in the 4d, it'll manifest in the 3d.

another thing i see so many people confused and stressed about is whether or not they're naturally thinking from the state. for instance, every time you think of your sp, you think from the end of being in a relationship with them, before you think of the fact that you're not together yet. and let me tell you....while this CAN happen, it's not always gonna happen and it's not necessary. let me tell you, the DAY before my sp reached out, and even the day that he did....i would catch myself thinking about how we weren't together! but the gag is....YOUR THOUGHTS DON'T MANIFEST!!!! yes, they indicate what state you're in, but the actual thoughts themselves don't mean shit!!! they don't manifest. they just don't!

so i'd shift back to the state of being my sp's girlfriend when i'd have these thoughts, but i was fully aware we were not together in my 3d and i never naturally thought of us as being together before i saw any evidence of it in my 3d. all i had was the knowing that my inner man was with my sp, and that since i'd decided i had it in imagination, it would push out into my 3d. because that's how the law works!!! and honestly, that's all you really need. you just need to know that since you gave yourself your desire in your imagination ONE TIME, it WILL manifest. and if you have a true understanding of how the law works and you've read source, you will have no trouble knowing that it will come.

you also do NOT need to be in the state of the wish fulfilled 24/7!!! at all!!!! i cannot stress this enough. and tbh i used to feel the same. i felt like i had to be aware of having my desire in imagination 24/7 or else it wouldn't come. i thought i couldn't perceive the lack or opposite in my 3d or else it wouldn't manifest (see this post about dismissing the 3d btw if u need help with that). but the gods honest truth is that all you need to do is DECIDE you have your desire in imagination & not take no for an answer & KNOW that your desire is GOING TO REFLECT IN YOUR 3D NO MATTER WHAT!!!!

and that's not to say that you wont still get anxious and have intrusive thoughts and be like "oh god what if it never manifests." like... im human and i had those human moments. but i just reminded myself that i know the law and ive proven it to myself many times and i know that it had to manifest.

anyway. back to my sp story!

so for these 12 days that im blocked (lmfao) all i did was affirm "i love [his name] so much" whenever i thought of him until i caught the feeling of the wish fulfilled. that's it. and i knew for a fact that he was mine in the 4d and therefore we'd be together in the 3d bc that's the law!

anyway on friday (5 days ago) at 8pm? im scrolling thru the ulta app and then im like "oh i havent fulfilled myself today i dont think" so i fulfilled myself for like 2 seconds and then get distracted by some product and then two minutes later i get a notif that this guy followed me and then dmed me 😭

it's funny cuz my irls don't know about the law of assumption so i sent them a screenshot and i was like "look who came crawling back" and they were like BOOOOO!!! and i was like no guys!!!!! i created the blocking and i created this like i promise we can trust him 😭😭 hahahaha

anyway. let me tell you. if you are manifesting an sp, DO NOT DO THAT SHIT IN STEPS!!!!! i mean, if you really want to, i can't stop you, but i really don't recommend it.

with my old sp (the one from two years ago) i'd always manifest contact and then get it, and then he'd ghost me and and id have to manifest contact again and it'd be a never ending cycle!!! bc i was just focusing on contact, not on how i felt or how he felt about me.

the reason i loveeee to affirm "i love my sp so much" INSTEAD OF "HE loves ME so much" is because it helps me catch the feeling of the wish fulfilled so much more. not only that, but because remember, THERE IS NO ONE TO CHANGE BUT SELF!!!! changing the way i see my sp and the way i feel about him is all i need to do. im not trying to change him and make him love me lol. this is about me and my inner reality, not him! he'll reflect whatever i am in the 4d

another reason i love affirming this is because TO ME, this is what implies we are already together. whenever im in a relationship, i always find myself laying around all giddy thinking about how obsessed with my bf i am and how i love him so much. so i emulate that when im manifesting an sp.

and it's PERFECT because by jumping straight to the end where we're already together, i don't have to focus on all the things that lead to us being in a relationship. i don't have to manifest him following me, or texting me, or asking me on a date. these things all just happen naturally bc im living in the end.

NOT TO MENTION, it naturally turns your sp into your perfect partner? like remember when i said when we were talking before he blocked me he was kinda dry and he'd just send memes that i didn't find funny? THIS DUDE DID A COMPLETE 180!!!

he's sooo funny, he is the OPPOSITE of dry, he is everything???? and im obsessed.

anyway he unblocked me and dmed me, and then asked for my number and we had such funny and cute convos and then boom 4 days later he asks me on a date and i say no (😭😭😭😭 i was busy) but i agreed to go on a date the next day and the way this boy showed pure unencumbered excitement 🥺 im obsessed

anyway im sorry this is so long? i really just wanted to share how all i did was apply what i've been preaching about on this blog for years and it worked out flawlessly! hopefully this gives you guys some good tips and maybe motivation? <3

#law of assumption #success story

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celtic-crossbow · 2 months

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Blood Ties Chapter 19

Series Masterlist

Warnings: strong depictions of illness; very minor suggestive situations

A/N: Super angsty with generous amounts of cuteness. Reader will eventually get to be a badass. But this chapter focuses on articulating the grave situation.

You were pacing outside the bedroom door, wringing your hands just to keep as many parts of your body as possible moving so you wouldn’t combust. Hershel had insisted you wait outside in case it was something possibly contagious that took Daryl down. Even though you’d spent a lot of time close to him, you were showing no symptoms, so the veterinarian thought it best to be safe rather than sorry.

You could hear Daryl coughing through the door, the sound sudden and harsh, followed by a groan each time that gave you hope that he’d possibly woke up. He’d been dead weight in your arms when everyone had burst in to help. The others had returned just in time, a heavy coat and gloves in tow for Daryl like you had requested. Rick and T-Dog had carried him up the stairs while Lori and Carol put forth effort to keep you back. You had shrugged them off and followed until Hershel stepped in.

“Y/N, you’re gonna pace a groove into the floorboards.” Carol stood by, watching you, refusing to go about her evening duties and leave you alone. “Y/N.”

You finally paused but didn’t look at her. She didn’t get a chance to comfort you before the door opened. Hershel and Maggie stepped out, whispering between themselves in a way that made your chest tighten.

“I’ll go get Beth and Carol to help me make a list. Carol?” The eldest Greene placed a hand on Carol’s arm, giving her enough time to assess you before she reluctantly followed.

“Is he okay?” You asked quietly. You and Hershel were alone outside the door now, the old man’s face smooth with a calm you wished you could muster.

“He likely had a virus that developed into pneumonia from breathing in the cold air. His lungs are full of fluid and inflamed, which accounts for the rattle when he breathes and, of course, the cough.”

“I know what pneumonia it is.” You interjected, a hint of irritation lacing your tone. “What needs to happen?”

“Ideally, we’d start an IV with fluids and antibiotics. If we can get the fluids and manage some oral antibiotics, we can make those work too. He needs those two things for certain. Fever reducers and cough suppressants would be beneficial. I will check for Tylenol in my things, though I fear I may have given you the last.”

You crossed your arms above your belly, hugging yourself tightly, and bounced on the balls of your feet, your brain running on overdrive. “Maggie’s making a list?” Hershel nodded, hanging the stethoscope around his neck. “Okay, I’ll go see when we can leave.”

“Y/N, wait.” For an old man, he sure moved quickly, stepping into your path. You knew what he would say. He would advise you not to go, that you shouldn’t put your baby in danger. For fuck sake, you knew that. “I can’t tell you what to do. We’ve established that. And I know that Daryl means a lot to you.”

“With the utmost respect, Hershel, please get to the point.” Your tone was level though inside, you felt like yourself crumbling. The world just took and took and when you would start to feel safe, it didn’t hesitate to remind you of the devastation it could bring.

“I’d like you to stay with Daryl.” Your rebuttal melted on your tongue when he held up a hand. “I will do everything in my power to care for him but I need to be able to care for you too. Maggie is capable. She’ll have help. Daryl needs you here.”

“I just—”

“There will be no getting him to cooperate if he finds out you left. You know this.”

You threw back your head and let your arms fall. Of course he was right. And once again, you felt useless. “I know.”

“You know, you are doing more for that man in there than anyone in this group ever could hope to do and I’m not just speaking of the child.” He smiled at you with such kindness. It reminded you of your father, your eyes burning. “Remember that.”

You nodded and sniffed. The old man’s footsteps retreated as you leaned your forehead against the door. Daryl was coughing on the other side. Hershel would have told you if you shouldn’t go in. Most strains of pneumonia were not contagious beyond the virus or bacteria that caused them. If you hadn’t contracted the cold or flu that Daryl had before this, it was unlikely you’d be infected now.

Turning the knob, you pushed on the door, steadily controlling how quickly it opened to keep it from making a lot of noise. Daryl was under the blankets, one arm lying across his stomach and the other at his side. His face was tilted away from you.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt but if you ventured to guess, he was likely not wearing anything. Hershel would have checked for bites. The hunter wouldn’t have kept that hidden. You knew that but maybe they didn’t.

His chest rattled and wheezed with each breath, appearing to take a lot more effort than should be necessary. You wondered if they would search for oxygen tanks. Maggie is capable. They would. You needed to stay right there and not try to micromanage. Daryl needed you more.

There was already an old, cushioned chair next to the bed. Perhaps Hershel used it or maybe Maggie moved it there for you. Regardless, you lowered yourself into it, remaining on the edge so you could easily reach Daryl’s hand.

His skin was overly warm and dry, the sound accompanying each labored breath was somehow worse at that proximity. Seeing him so still reminded you of finding him injured back at the farm, how afraid you had been at the thought of losing him. That fear had experienced then resurfaced with a vengeance, squeezing your lungs so tightly that you imagined Daryl could breathe with more ease in that moment.

“Prolly shouldn’t be in here.”

You visibly startled, nearly sliding off the edge of the chair. “Jesus, Daryl, don’t do that.” You had to take a moment to get your heartrate under control before meeting his scarcely open eyes. It was as if whatever energy, whatever stubbornness, that had been keeping him going had just drained out of him. “How’re you feeling?”

“How ‘m I lookin’?” He wheezed. He coughed without opening his mouth until he could get his arm to obey him and cover the lower portion of his face. He inhaled his food like a human vacuum but at least he covered his mouth when he coughed.

“Fair point.” You took his hand again and held it between yours. He didn’t pull away.

“Just need a night an’ I can get back out there.”

You instinctively began to heat up in anger. How could he even think he was fit to be out of bed, much less hunt or take watch? How many times were you going to need to remind him that he needed to care for himself as well? After the initial desire to throttle him had passed, you leaned forward to rest your elbows on the mattress. “We’ve been over this. You can’t run yourself into the ground to take care of me, Thumper, or anyone else. You've done that. You’re really sick, Daryl. And I’m scared.”

“Ain’t gotta be scared.” His fingers wiggled weakly, slowly between your hands. You moved one away so he could squeeze the other. “Ain’t gonna be in this bed long.”

“You’ll be in this bed until Hershel says you can leave it.” You replied sternly. Despite the tears in your eyes, you firmly held his tired gaze.

He challenged you, indignation carved into every line of weariness. When you didn’t waver, he backed down, much to your relief. “Fine.” He coughed again, coming up off the pillow from the force of it. You released his hand and stood over him, grabbing the old pillow from the other side of the bed. Luckily the dust had been beaten from the fabrics before you were in that room. You slid an arm behind his neck to help him sit up a little, placing the pillow behind him. “Could’a done it myself. Ain’t a invalid.”

“I know you can do things yourself. You’re just not seeming to comprehend that you aren't alone anymore. That someone cares for you.” Loves you. You were still standing and took notice of the bowl of water on the table with a piece of fabric hanging over the edge. Very likely Maggie was trying to bring down the fever. Licking your lips, you dipped the damp material into the cool water and wrung out the excess. With the slightest hesitation, you sat down close to his hand and began to dab the feverish skin of his face. Daryl probably didn’t even realize he sighed when his eyes fluttered closed. “Just let me take care of you for once.”

Fever-bright blue reappeared to study you. He didn’t seem upset but the hunter was known for his sudden shifts in temperament. You simply continued what you were doing, moving on to his neck. He coughed weakly, bringing his arm toward his face while you moved yours to make room. The spell was brisk, your limbs trading again but you felt his fingers brush your swollen belly.

After another moment, Daryl grunted with a look of absolute feigned irritation. Though you knew you had won this round, you kept your expression neutral and leaned close to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Thank you.”

His eyes were closed but you didn’t miss the twitch at one corner of his lips. His only reply was another grunt.

The night was nearly unbearable. You had moved to the other side of the bed and sat cross-legged at his side. His breathing was labored and loud, the coughs frequent and painful. The more he rested, the less lucid he became during moments of wakefulness. His skin burned hotter as the fever climbed, your attempts to lower it all for naught.

Maggie and company were set to leave at first light but it wasn’t soon enough. Pleas fell from your lips each time Hershel came to check on each of you. He urged you to try and rest, even offering to bring Carol, Lori, or Beth to sit with the archer while you got some sleep. Your refusal was instantaneous. Eventually, he brought Beth with him and reasoned she could stay to watch over Daryl while you rested beside him, promising to wake you with any changes, good or bad.

You were exhausted, that you couldn’t deny. The baby rolled and kicked, honing in on your anxiousness, Hershel said. It was with a yawn that you reluctantly agreed. The Tylenol had finally been located, and you insisted on helping get Daryl to take it before lying down. He was resistant for only a moment before complying, simply because you started to cry. Hormones and exhaustion were not a great combination.

“You’ll wake me for anything?” You were propped on your elbows, preparing to curl up next to the furnace that was your boyfriend? Partner? Significant other? Whatever. You’d figure that part when he was better.

“Anything at all. I promise.” Beth smiled reassuringly and patted your ankle.

You had been made aware that anything not in use had been packed and was ready in case there was a need to flee. That would leave ample time for Daryl to be moved safely. The team of Maggie, Glenn, and T-Dog would go in search of what was needed, likely to be gone the entire day to venture further out. The local homes and businesses had already been looted. In essence, there was nothing more to be done except keep the archer comfortable and more importantly, alive.

“Okay.” You conceded, rolling onto your side to face Daryl as he coughed, a spasm of pain on his face before he settled again. “I’m right here.” You wrapped your fingers around his and held on loosely, closing your eyes to sink quickly into sleep.

You heard the coughs before registering that your name was being called— no. It was being shouted. You shot straight up, hands immediately fumbling for Daryl. He was upright as well, leaning over his lap and arms braced against his chest to hold the blanket in place, cognizant enough during even such a paroxysm of hacking to hide his marred chest. With both the candle, nearly spent after what most of been a few hours rest for you, and the moonlight reflecting off the snow outside, you could see the redness on his skin, veins and tendons bulging from the force.

“It’s okay. Daryl, it’s—where’s Hershel?” Your eyes remained on him, hand rubbing circles over his upper back. “Beth?” You looked at her then, found her staring at Daryl with an expression you couldn’t quite read. Fear? Hopelessness? The girl flinched at the sound of her name, only then seeming to hear your question.

“He went to check if we have any tea bags.” She had lost so many, so much already. So young, still a child in that world. She was frozen, her eyes beginning to shine with moisture.

Daryl’s fit was calming, each wet, wheezing gasp making the vice around your heart clench tighter. “Beth. Beth, look at me.” You were scared. No, you were terrified of losing Daryl. When the girl swallowed hard and finally turned her head to face you, you smiled with as much reassurance as you could scrape up around the dread stealing your own breath. Whatever you had, you would offer to Daryl. And to her. “He’ll be okay. Your dad’s gonna make sure of it.” You almost failed to hide the quiver in your voice. “Can you go see if we have any more clean scraps of cloth? I’d rather not have him spitting what he coughs up onto the floor.”

Beth nodded and spared one more lingering glance at Daryl, then she left the room.

“Nice.” Daryl said with a desperate inhale. “Almost… believed ya myself.” He was still sitting up with his shoulders slumped, nearly folded onto his lap. You were still tenderly rubbing circles over his back.

“You will be okay.” You whispered, laying your forehead against his shoulder blade, smiling when he didn’t react to your skin pressing against a particularly deep scar. Each breath vibrated where you rested. “Here.” You sniffed and pulled away one of the pillows. “Lay on your stomach. It opens up your lungs.”

The hunter looked over his shoulder tiredly as if considering whether or not it was worth the effort. There was a small jerk of his chin that you perceived as a nod, and then he was turning languidly to stretch out on his stomach. He coughed and buried his face in the pillow. You hadn’t noticed he was shivering before then. The blanket was twisted around his legs, making it more difficult to pull it up to the middle of his back.

“S’miserable.” The words were muffled but decipherable.

“I know.” You were getting to your feet, pressing your hands into the small of your back to soothe the ache there. The baby moved in what felt like a roll. “Thumper’s doing gymnastics.” Daryl turned his head toward the chair on his side of the bed just as you sat down and dipped the cloth into the bowl of cool water, his arm immediately outstretched so that the back of his hand rested on top of your bump. “Let’s see if we can help the Tylenol with that fever.”

When the cool fabric touched the back of his neck, Daryl flinched. With his body fighting to regulate his temperature, it must have been quite the shock. You left it there for a moment before moving to dab the side of his face. Swiping the cloth over his back, you realized he once again was allowing you to see his scars, this time without the tension of rigid muscles that accompanied his shame and self-loathing. Maybe he just felt too horrible to care.

By the time Hershel lightly tapped on the door, Daryl was sleeping. The coughs were still present but with longer reprieves, the hunter so exhausted that the fits barely roused him.

“We found some tea. I regret not mentioning to Maggie that honey could be beneficial.” One plastic cup in one hand was steaming, a torn piece of flannel wrapped around it to ensure he didn’t burn himself. The other hand held a refilled bottle of water, likely from boiling some of the snow.

Your mind drifted to how different this winter was so different from the ones before the turn. Georgia wasn’t usually a state to receive that amount of snow and such low temperatures. Maybe the lack of human activity had altered the weather patterns. Less cars, less pollution, less deforestation. You weren’t an expert but there had to be something different. If he was real, maybe god just saw fit to throw a few more curveballs at your little group. As if the threat of being eaten alive by the dead wasn’t enough.

Shaking your head clear, you brushed your fingertips across Daryl’s forehead. “They left?” Hershel nodded. The sun hadn’t even begun to rise yet.

“Rick seemed to think this was urgent enough to send them out before dawn. I can’t say I’m thrilled to see my daughter driving away into the night but I am inclined to agree with his judgment.”

Daryl could die. It was urgent but for more than any practical reason Rick could suggest. It was so much deeper than that. “He’s asleep. Should I wake him up to drink it?” You placed the fabric back in the water.

“As much as I’d like him to rest, he also needs to avoid dehydration.” He raised the cup slightly. “Peppermint tea is caffeine free but we had nothing to sweeten it. We can only hope he’s thirsty enough to not care. If he’d prefer, I also brought some water.”

Sighing, you nodded and leaned forward to be in Daryl’s line of sight once he awakened. “Daryl. Wake up.” You pulled the blanket up to cover his back. Hershel had seen the scars more than once, you knew that, but you were almost certain Daryl would have appreciated the effort.

With a groan of protest, he opened his eyes to slits. “What?”

“Hershel brought you some tea.”

“Ain’t thirsty.” He closed his eyes.

“Bullshit.” You challenged flatly. “Come on, sit up.”

His eyes opened a little wider then, sheer stubbornness driving him to glare at you. “M’comfortable.”

“Tough titty.”

His expression smoothed out, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Nah, s’real soft.” The hand that laid on your stomach drifted up, the back of his knuckles pressing lightly across the swell of your left breast.

Hershel cleared his throat. Daryl’s hand moved away at a speed you didn’t think he was capable of in his current state. You snorted when the fevered flush coloring his cheeks deepened with embarrassment.

Reaching a hand toward the veterinarian, you waited for him to cross the room and pass off the cups.

“Try to drink as much as you can, son.”

Daryl hummed, likely feeling too awkward to trust his voice. You smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Hershel.”

“No thanks necessary. I’ll be back in a couple of hours to check in, but call down if you need anything sooner.”

“Okay.” The door clicked shut while you sat the cup of water down by the bowl and cloth.

“Why didn’cha…tell me the old man… was in here?” Daryl croaked, making a face so close to a pout that you found it adorable.

You chuckled. “I didn’t think you were gonna feel me up from your sick bed, sir.” He grumbled something incomprehensible but you honestly weren’t paying attention. If he wasn’t willing to sit up, you could have him raise his head just enough for you to help. “If you won’t sit up for me, could you at least lift your head and let me help you drink?”

“Y’ain’t gonna… stop houndin’… me ‘til I do, …are ya?” He turned his face into the pillow and coughed, staying there until he was sure it was over.

“Nope. You might as well just do what I ask.” You were smiling sweetly and batting your eyes when he finally moved his face back to you.

“All women nag… this much…or s’mine just special?” Along with the relentless wiggles of your unborn baby, butterflies stirred and fluttered. Even if it was difficult to look past the fact that he struggled to draw in enough air when speaking, you felt your skin—as well as your heart—warm.

His.

“You’re just lucky.” You nearly sing-songed, choosing not to question his verbiage. You knew you were his. He’d been rather clear about that, even if he hadn’t exactly used words to convey it. That was enough for you. Hearing it was just a bonus.

Daryl dragged his limbs and began to push up onto his forearms, but he abandoned the movement before his chest even lifted from the mattress. When he sighed, it was likely from resignation. He lifted and angled his head for you to adequately position the cup and pour a small amount of tea into his mouth.

“Needs sugar.” He commented a moment or two after swallowing. Shaking your head, you offered it again.

It took a substantial amount of time to finish the tea and a few sips of water. The sun’s appearance found you sitting on the edge of the mattress, running your fingers through Daryl’s hair. He had fallen asleep before finishing the tea, waking only just enough to cooperate with your efforts. Hershel had been in once, declaring that while the archer hadn’t improved, he hadn’t worsened either.

When he began to cough, you moved your hand from his hair to his back, rubbing soft circles in an attempt to provide any measure of comfort. Once he had settled, you used one of the flannel pieces Beth had retrieved to clean his mouth and the pillow. Hershel seemed pleased that the cough was productive. It was a disgusting reassurance but you’d take anything.

Daryl groaned and shivered, the fever relatively untouched by the Tylenol. The veterinarian had cautioned you that without the aid of antibiotics and soon, it was likely Daryl’s condition would deteriorate. Your hand stilled on this spine, the rattling of his lungs vibrating beneath your palm. Nearly overcome with an intense notion of foreboding, you turned your face toward the window, almost as if to summon back the team by sheer force of will alone.

“Please hurry.”

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kuroosdarling · 8 months

Text

A MAN OF ACTION — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. zoro roronoa !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : after all this time traveling with the straw hats, zoro can no longer deny the inevitable, it was time for him to share his feelings with you — or attempt to. he just wished it didn’t spark from jealously over that shitty cook.

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. language, zoro battling with his feelings, might be a lil ooc, suggestive at the end ! — WC : 1.2k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : something came over me and i needed to write this out. the zoro brainrot has been intense lately >_< enjoy !!

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)♡*.ﾟ

the very thing zoro swore would never happen, happened. he’d never admit it out loud but he knew deep down, it was true. and it only infuriated him more.

jealousy warped his brain and had him doubting himself, all because of that shitty cook. each time he saw him effortlessly waltz up to you, armed with a thousand compliments on the tip of his tongue, sent his mind reeling.

even if zoro wanted to go up to you and say something like that, he doesn’t think anything he could say would amount to what he says to you. for sanji, flirting was as easy as breathing. he could do it with absolutely no problem, no shame, nothing but overly cheesy lines.

and yet zoro could barely open his mouth to try and articulate how much he cared for you. could mere words even sum up the feelings he held for you?

he wishes he could just spit it out in a manner like how sanji does. just breathless admirations of desire from his mouth to your ear. even though he knew the lines never really landed with the ladies, he still found himself wishing for a little more charisma to carry the rest of his way to your heart.

falling for you rivaled any other battle he’s had to face. normally, he’d fight it off with his three blades, but not this time. instead, this fight had him laying awake well past his bedtime, trying to sort through thoughts he’d never had before. finding himself missing naps left and right because he’d rather think about you and what you were doing. but he couldn’t let you in — wouldn’t. not when he had so much on the line. he was to be devoted to only two things : his dream and his captain.

but somewhere along the way, something new started to take hold in him – a sense of newfound devotion slipping through the cracks of his heart anytime he caught himself looking at you. so many feelings woven into his mind that he didn’t even know how to unwind it, let alone decipher it. but oh how his blood would boil anytime sanji paraded around you, offering you your favorite drinks and snacks — yet another thing he couldn’t give you.

but today he mustered up all the courage he had, his body buzzing like it usually does the night before a big fight. but mixed with something else, a fluttering feeling that had nausea crawling up his throat and threatening to close it. shaking it off, he set out to find you.

it didn’t take long, you were out on the deck of the sunny in your favorite lawn chair, soaking up the rays like you normally do when there’s downtime. the serene expression you had on your face almost made him feel bad for coming by to interrupt your alone time. almost.

steeling himself, he made his way over with every intention of telling you how he feels — or at least try to. but of course, it didn’t go as planned.

“hey.” he greeted as he shuffled up towards you, mentally kicking himself for sounding so unbothered — so gruff. his mind flickered to how sanji would normally greet you, all cheery eyed and smiling. trying to replicate that sounded like a nightmare but he didn’t want to act so stoic around you. not right now.

“hey zoro.” you smile anyway, looking up at him.

“what are you up to?” another kick. it was painfully obvious what you were doing but you just let it slide with another easy going smile, expelling his nerves with each moment it rested on your face.

“sunbathing while we still can. it’s rare to have days like these.” you lean back in the chair a bit, sprawling out more and accidentally exposing more of your skin. he had to look away for a moment before a blush crept up on his face. “i love the way it makes my skin feel, so warm and fuzzy, you know?”

he did know, in fact, that’s how he felt when he was with you. a perfect segway into the flirting he was trying to accomplish. but you beat him to it with something unexpected.

“wanna feel it?” you suggest, holding out your arm. he looks at you briefly before hesitantly pressing his fingers against your skin. and sure enough, it was warm, very warm. and so soft. he didn’t realize how swept up he was in the moment before you let out a gasp — quickly realizing he accidentally pulled you up into his arms. sometimes his strength gets the best of him.

your other hand lightly pressed against his chest to steady yourself and the warmth sent him reeling. your faces were closer now, sharing a silent understanding as you both held eye contact for a long while. he watched as your eyes trail down his face and landing on his lips before quickly snapping back up to him.

his chest heaved, the weight of your hand was something he never wanted lifted off of him, in fact, he only wanted more. he couldn’t stop imagining how warm you would be all over if he were laid up with you instead of standing merely inches away.

“zoro-“ you begin, falling short on words. the electricity between you started coiling around you both, pushing you towards each other. to resist was too suffocating, but to finally indulge? the gap needed to be closed somehow, he needed to say something to lure you to him even though you were already set in a trap.

“can i kiss you?” a final kick. everything that came out of his mouth was falling short. he never claimed he had a way with words, but the sparkle in your eyes told him that it didn’t really matter.

after a whispered yes, he surges forward – completely driven by a frenzied instinct. his lips consume yours as he pulls your body flush against his. there weren’t any words to describe how good your lips felt when they joined his and the soft, sweet sounds it elicited from deep within you.

it was a whirlwind, one full of passion, lust, and more emotions that zoro didn’t have the time to unravel. not when all he wanted to feel was your fingers clawing through his hair, deepening the kiss as you slip your tongue into his eager mouth.

the kiss itself was not graceful, it was sloppy and unpracticed but soon enough, you two fell into a rhythm. one that was so harmonious that it had him doubting if he really needed air to breathe or if he could live on your sweet kiss alone.

but ultimately, survival instincts took over, the two of you pulling apart with a string of saliva still connecting you. the string broke, falling on your lips and down your chin a little bit. without a second thought, zoro caught it on his thumb before glossing it back over your lips. the soft, pleading eyes you were feeding him had reaching out for you once again, pulling you closer by your hips.

“we should go somewhere more private.” you whisper breathlessly, lips swollen from zoros passion. without another moment to spare, he takes your hand and starts leading you exactly where you needed to go.

because zoro may not have a way with words, but he was always better as a man of action.

#⁺. ʚ now streaming:#zoro roronoa #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro x reader #one piece x reader #op x reader

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sugurugetofavoritemonkey · 8 months

Note

Hi there! What are some really attractive things that you canon geto to do?? I feel like he’s a guy who’s hand placement is just immaculate

Heyyy ! 💓💓

I love this ask so so so much 🫶🏻🥰

Thank you for coming here and don’t hesitate to share more of your thoughts with me and some feedbacks as well ! Have the greatest day/night 🌸💕 (yes I got carried away because this idea inspired me way too much, and I won’t complain about it because I love to write new things for my Sugu 🤍)

Geto’s attractiveness is on another level, he would be so smooth when flirting with you or just being with you, his sweet girlfriend. He’s a perfect gentleman and that’s why I totally agree with what you said.

His hand will always be on your body all the time. It doesn’t matter where you two are or when it happen, Suguru has to touch you no matter what. Geto doesn’t even realize he’s being attractive but the way his hand sits almost in a possessive way on your waist, really makes it hard for you not to blush. Seeing that his hands are pretty big as well, his touch feels even more protective.

Suguru’s hand will also place itself on your jaw, as a way to deepen the kiss, making it easier for your lover to let his tongue slide inside your mouth, like Suguru was showing everyone that you were his just by kissing you.

Suguru and you are sitting next to each other in any situation ? Then his hand will rest on your thigh for this whole duration. His thumb will caress your skin from time to time unconsciously as a way of showing his affection to you, Suguru not even realizing how much he was making you flustered with this simple touch.

—

Another thing that Suguru does in an attractive way is to ask for your consent when the two of you will try something new in bed.

Him taking the time to gently look at you and ask, « Is it okay precious ? », while Suguru caresses your tummy as a soothing gesture, successfully making you flush as he teasingly smiles at you.

And if you just nod at him as a yes, Suguru won’t have it as an acceptable answer.

Suguru will « tsk tsk » you, and take your face in his hands while looking into your eyes with a gentle grin.

« Nuh uh baby, I want an out loud no or yes, can you do that for me ? »

And after you make your best to articulate a « yes » without stuttering too much, Suguru will for sure make you blush with his last reply.

« Such a Good Girl, my good girl, right sweetheart ? », Suguru would say to you with a honey voice and smiling eyes.

—

Last but not least, Suguru’s attractiveness also shines during his training sessions.

Oh my, imagine when you want to see your dear Suguru so much that you come to Jujutsu High early, just to be faced with the most mouth watering view ever. Suguru training with his three-section staff, his black shirt sticking to his wet skin as he swings his red weapon around his body.

Once Suguru notices your presence, a pretty smile will show on his face as he walks towards you, while drying the sweat off his face with the hem of his shirt, revealing just a glimpse of his v-line.

Once close to you, Suguru would not be able to resist the urge to hold you in his arms, even if he was sweaty, seeing you here just to see him was making him feel so happy.

And this hug was making you feel many different things, to say the least. In his embrace, with your face nuzzling into his chest, you could smell his musky perfume, which was slowly soothing all of your senses. In his embrace, you could feel his strong arms surrounding your form, making you feel protected by your pretty sorcerer. And in his embrace, Suguru was able to press a light kiss on your temple, quickly followed by your lover making you look at him in the eyes, smiling at you tenderly.

With a teasing voice, Suguru asked you with his honey voice, « You interrupted my training you know darling, the least you could do is to give me a kiss, right ? »

You could feel Suguru’s hands pressing into the small of your back as a way of closing the gap between your bodies, effectively emphasizing his point, as you’re now pressed against Suguru.

It was making you feel a bit vulnerable, being trapped in his towering form as his lips are now hovering over yours, tempting you to close the gap as his hands slowly goes down to cup your butt-cheeks.

Suguru smiles at you as he sees your flustered expression, but just a few seconds passes before you stand on your tiptoes to kiss the attractive man that makes you dizzy with his affection.

Suguru takes the lead in the kiss as soon as your lips touches his, encircling his arms around you as you grip his shirt into your fists as a way to keep balance.

But one thing that Suguru likes to do when he wants to hear a little moan out of you in moments like these, is to lightly bite your lower lip, licking it with his tongue after as a teasing apology, whispering against your mouth with a smile.

« I’m glad you came, I missed you, my precious girl »

🤍 Suguru Geto Masterlist 🤍

#geto suguru #jjk smut #geto smut #geto x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #answered #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #suguru geto #geto suguru x reader #jjk reader #geto suguru imagines #🤍suguru geto🤍#🤍my love🤍

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ninjadeathblade · 10 months

Text

Nachos (a Nimona fanfic)

Summary: Nimona tags along on Ballister's nacho date with Ambrosius (set post-movie)

Warnings: A couple swears and that's about it

Word count: 1,050

Fluff with a tiny bit of angst

Author notes: Thanks you to @skating-is-cool for scheming with me on my other post about this. I didn't put loads of effort into this if I'm honest but I let the boys finally have their nachos together.

"You promise to behave?" Ballister asked nervously, refusing to go inside until Nimona agreed. The shapeshifter had been begging to come along with him to his date with Ambrosius. Ballister had reluctantly agreed, knowing that if he'd told her no she would've snuck along anyway. Nimona shrugged, rocking back and forth on her heels.

"I dunno. Maybe." She shot him a grin full of fangs, almost falling over before catching her balance again and leaning forward onto her tiptoes.

"Nimona, please," Ballister sighed, exasperation clawing at the inside of his skull as he brought a hand to his face to rub across his eyes. "This is the first time since…everything that me and Ambrosius have actually been able to go on a date." Ballister struggled to articulate it to her. Mentally, he understood that Nimona was over a thousand years old and had probably seen many people be in love. But he also had latched onto her as some kind of younger sibling or daughter to him, which meant he had to explain everything. "Because we've left the army now, I don't have to hide who I am as much. You should understand that."

"Yeah, I suppose so," Nimona replied, flashing him another smile. "C'mon then, let's go see your boyfriend." Ballister made to grab her shoulder before she headed into the bar but she weaved away from him, slipping through the door into the bar. Ballister gritted his teeth before following Nimona, a certain air of anxiety around him. He knew that Ambrosius still loved him, that hadn't changed. But would it be awkward? The last time they were here Ambrosius was trying to convince him to kill Nimona. Ballister mulled over his thoughts as he followed Nimona through the bar, not paying much attention to his surroundings.

"Hey handsome." Ballister jerked out of his thoughts at Ambrosius' voice, looking down at his lover. Ambrosius smiled softly up at him, moving over in the booth seat to make room for him. Ballister shot him a shy smile in return, sitting down beside him while Nimona took the seat across from him.

"You're sure you don't mind she's here?" Ballister whispered, resting his head on Ambrosius' shoulder.

"She's family, it's not like she wouldn't be here," Ambrosius responded, pressing a light kiss to the top of Ballister's head. Ballister closed his eyes, relishing in the feeling of safety. It hadn't been long since the queen had died but it felt like years of being on edge constantly.

"You know I can hear you two, right?" Nimona butted into the conversation and Ballister opened his eyes again, regarding her with a deadpan stare.

"You know you could let us be romantic together every now and then?" He retorted, earning a snort of laughter from Ambrosius. Nimona stuck her tongue out at him before turning her attention to something over his shoulder. She transformed into a mouse, scuttling across the table.

"Be back soon." Ballister sighed with relief, visibly sagging in his seat. As much as he loved Nimona, it did feel more than a little weird having her third-wheeling on his date. After all, she was like a daughter to him. And although he wanted to spend time with her, it felt strange to have her on his date with Ambrosius.

"May I get you anything sirs?" A waitress appeared almost out of thin air beside them.

"Nachos," the two of them said in unison.

"No olives. He's allergic," Ballister added, jerking a thumb at Ambrosius. The waitress nodded, walking away.

"You always have to specify, don't you?" Ambrosius teased, playfully poking Ballister in the side. Ballister laughed quietly, wrapping his prosthetic arm around Ambrosius' waist.

"I can't have you dying. Who would continue the Gloreth bloodline?" Ballister joked with a gentle squeeze to Ambrosius' hip. Ambrosius practically doubled over with laughter, banging his fist on the table a couple of times.

"Shit, Bal, you think I'd actually continue the bloodline?" Ambrosius questioned, eyes slightly teary from laughter as he looked up at Ballister. "The closest thing to a child that anyone is getting from me is Nimona. We are adopting her, right? I mean, I get she's technically older than us but she's still a child, you know?" Ballister placed a gentle kiss against Ambrosius' cheek.

"Yeah, if she's fine with it. I haven't asked her yet," Ballister told him, withdrawing his hand from its position around his lover, fidgeting with his hands under the table. The two of them fell into silence, something that had rarely happened in the time they'd known one another. The waitress returned, placing their bowls of nachos on the table and Ballister didn't know what to do.

"I'm sorry." Ambrosius broke the silence. Ballister glanced towards him, noticing the tear tracks down his cheeks. He was honestly unsure if they were from laughter or not. "I'm so sorry I didn't trust you. Or Nimona." Ballister placed his hand over Ambrosius', the dark metal contrasting against his light skin. "I didn't even try to listen to you when you explained."

"It's not your fault," Ballister assured him.

"But it is. If I'd listened, if I'd tried to help then maybe it wouldn't have turned out this way." Ambrosius skimmed his thumb across the back of Ballister's hand. "If I could then I'd change it all." Ballister brushed the tears away from Ambrosius' eyes, turning in his seat to face him.

"But if that happened then we wouldn't have our family," Ballister pointed out, pulling Ambrosius into a hug. The two of them sat there in the booth for a while, feeling grateful that despite everything they still had one another.

"These nachos are delicious, I see why you both keep coming back here." Ballister pulled away from Ambrosius slightly, glaring at Nimona. She was lying slightly across the other side of the booth, a bowl of nachos in her hands as she ate some of them.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Ballister swore. "Can you not see we're having a moment?"

"Yes. And I'm having nachos," Nimona replied, biting into another one. Ambrosius pressed a kiss against Ballister's temple.

"Leave her be. It's fine," Ambrosius said. Ballister smiled softly, pulling the second bowl of nachos towards him and his love.

"Yeah. It couldn't be better."

#nimona #nimona movie #nimona film #netflix nimona #nimona netflix #ballister boldheart #goldenheart #ballister x ambrosius #ambrosius goldenloin #ambrosius x ballister #ballister #nd stevenson #nimona fanfic #nimona 2023 #nachos

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lurkinggirlie · 1 month

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Elain & Azriel are EndGame

Azriel’s bonus chapter: semi-essay on my thoughts

This post will be a long one. The shipwar has been going on for far too long, and there's a possiblity that we'll be getting closure soon. So, I want to put my thoughts out there. For Obvious reasons, I could be very wrong, but this is what I think based on canon text: (Ignore any errors..I haven't edited this, and I'm sure there are many posts like this that are way more articulate)

Elriel are endgame. If they’re not then Azriel is kinda pathetic and having him end-up with anyone else is bad writing and character assassination. (Which we sadly won’t put past sjm but I don’t think she would..at least I hope)

1- Elain has no other love interest. Yes, Lucien is her mate but we have hinted at a broken/rejected mating bond for the longest time when it comes to these two so having them accept it eventually is going to be quite underwhelming, repetitive and boring. Even Lucien seems to have given up/isn’t interested in bridging that gap between them, which we’re told in both acofas and acosf. Unless you want to count the longing pointed out by Cassian, although Cassian also pointed out that Lucien was also uncomfortable when he mentioned his mate. To add on, there is no sexual tension between the two, and we know how important that is for sjm’s couple. You can't keep whining "but Elain isn't giving him a chance, if only she gave him a chance, then maybe this and maybe that" Elain is not a seprate entity, she is what SJM writes, Sjm could have written that but she did not yet and I'm not sure if she will. It feels too late at this point, she had already shown us that Elain has feelings for someone else aka Azriel. The author doesn't have to spell everything out for us to understand to what's going on. Sarah usually makes it clear who's endgame. and she literally is. So, it would be very sudden and out of the blue if Lucien and Elain were to end up together when she had never shown it before. When even Azriel pointed this out “I think Lucien will never be good enough for her, and she has no interest in him, anyway” people can say Rhys killed elriel, that the bonus chapter ended them. But this line right here tells us otherwise! First we know Azriel and Elain can read each other so well that they don’t need words, and then Azriel tells us this. He’s literally telling us that Elain does not want Lucien.

We also cannot compare elucien to Feysand or Nessian in the “enemies to lovers" department, because these two seem to hardly care about each other. For obvious reasons she wouldn’t accept or reject Lucien in a book that isn’t hers. But if they do end up together I’d feel robbed that she had more sexual tension with Azriel than she did with Lucien. And we know that Nessian and Feysand had sexual tension before getting together. Most of what we got from Elain and Lucien was awkwardness, and discomfort. Not a single spark. Furthermore, it would feel like Azriel was just leading Elain own. Plus their romance (Lucien and Elain) would not feel organic, only getting with Lucien because she felt rejected by Azriel, which doesn’t give epic romance no matter how sjm tries to spin it. It would always make Lucien seem like the second choice.

2- Azriel regifting the necklace was a dickhead move, and offensive to both girls. Anyone thinking the regifting of the necklace ended elriel or started gwynriel is delusional and clearly doesn’t know how the romance genre works. (should’ve thrown the gift in the Sidra like Cassain did) I can’t believe Rhys isn’t paying Azriel enough that he felt the need to return the necklace to the shop instead of throwing it. Senstive Illyrian baby indeed.

3- Rhys saying stay away from Elain (can we take a moment to appreciate how sexy Rhys was for pulling rank, he really made the ship more interesting now) and Azriel actually listening to him?? When he told him you can’t order me to do that. shit would be underwhelming if Azriel actually stayed away? Hello? Secret relationship potential ? Hello? Forbidden romance potential ??? The tropes would be epic. Sjm had never done that. And I’m not saying she will, but this is how I see it playing out. + Azriel saying it was a mistake to Elain, and Elain apologizing?? The fact she was confused/hurt and probably thought she misunderstood the whole situation? SHE IS BABYGIRL?? Regardless, Azriel saying it was a mistake and it being a mistake is NOT it. This is not how romance works most of the time. This is such a basic romantic trope, why are a lot of people misinterepting it? Elain deserves better, and sjm isn’t about to hurt Elain’s feelings without making it up to her. And she’s definitely not making Azriel end up with another girl before he fixes that shit. I will be needing a proper apology to Elain.

4- Whenever people think of the bonus chapter they weigh in Azriel’s feelings far more than Elain’s. It’s clear that Elain and Azriel’s feelings are MUTUAL, ignore the bonus chapter and it’s right there in the actual book. I don’t think Elain got the memo that Azriel had a conversation with another girl after he hurt her feelings which made him realize he’s in love all of a sudden. *sarcasm* that would be very out of character for Azriel.

5- His chest sparkling at the thought of Gwyn getting the necklace was so??? I have been saying he’s for the streets and yes this was out of pocket. So, I understand people shipping them. However it could mean anything really, you can't continue saying that Gwyn in the bonus has to mean something, and that that spark must mean somethig but continue to disreagrd every single Elriel interaction like they mean nothing. Because for it to be taken as romance we’d have to ignore the beginning of the bonus, the feysand’s bonus acosf/acomaf/acowar and acofas. + we could easily take this in a platonic way, which is how I viewed it when I read the bonus. Not everything has to be romantic. And sjm will NOT introduce a new guy to make him end up with Elain since we already established Elain doesn’t want Lucien and Lucien doesn’t want her either.

6- I know that a lot of people have theories about Gwyn being a lightsinger and all of this happening because of her powers (While I do think this is very smart, it wasn’t something I thought of so I won’t talk about it). I do think it’s possible, and all the theories I saw were really cool but idk where sjm is going with this, so to make it simple I do think it could be because she’s his student, she went through a lot it could simply be platonic happiness that a girl who went through so much is going to be happy about something. Even if it was a secondhand necklace specifically picked with ANOTHER girl in mind PLUS I do think sjm wanted drama, and for people to doubt elriel cuz now they have all these obstacles, so Gwyn would be the easy choice, but the second choice regardless. The relationship would feel icky and I genuinely cannot see the potential gwynriels keep talking about. I would take the ship a lot more seriously if a) he didn’t regift her another girl’s necklace b) there was more to them in the actual book. c) he wasn’t still upset about it 3 days later…

7- There’s a high possibility Gwyn never even got the necklace..

He gave it to Clotho not Gwyn, he didn’t want his name mentioned, and then said if any other girl would like it to give it to them: the aim was to get rid of Elain’s necklace. It’s sort of a parallel with Cassain throwing away Nesta’s present.

I think it’s possible that Azriel went there because he knows how much the girls in the library have suffered, especially since his mom did too, it's possible he thought "okay this is a pretty necklace, I don't want to hold onto the reminder of what could've been, so instead of throwing it let another girl be happy about it. At least it won’t go to waste”

Clotho could tell there was something wrong, like maybe she sensed the energy and decided ayeee let me keep this aside for him, he might come back and ask for it.

The bonus did not happen at the end of the book

If Azriel was truly in love with Gwyn now /or he wanted her/ or more between them was going to happen/ or they were mates according to some theories we could have AT LEAST gotten more after the bonus.

We know the bonus happened after solstice.

Nesta mentions that Azriel was stone-faced and more aloof than usual, he wouldn’t even give her a smile. That was 3 days after the necklace situation. I think it would’ve been a great opportunity to highlight any attraction between Azriel and Gwyn.

Maybe he sees the necklace around her neck, maybe Nesta and Emerie compliment Gwyn’s necklace, or Gwyn telling them she doesn’t know who it’s from, maybe they tease her that someone might have a crush on her. Nesta could’ve pointed out that Azriel was looking at Gwyn’s necklace.or looking at Gwyn in some sort of way. Literally anything.

Anyone pointing out the way Azriel and Gwyn looked at each other. A charged glance perhaps. Literally ANYTHING. We only got him looking at her with admiration which is very teacher coded.

If sjm hadn’t made Nesta realize Azriel had a thing for Elain then maybe gwnyriel would’ve been more appealing to me. But no, Nesta noticed. This doesn’t mean nothing people.

aside from that we got nothing romantic, but a part of the fandom still acts like we need to exile Elain because she’s coming between Gwyn and Azriel’s epic love story.

Not everyone has access to the bonus.

The Azriel chapter was only in ONE store in the US, but Feysand’s bonus chapter was in 3 stores in the US and UK. I don't know but something tells me it’s more important. Soooo if SJM would do a love interest switch she would not do it in a bonus chapter, and wouldn’t be highlighting the Az/Elain interactions in ACOSF as much as she did.

Feyre’s chapter focuses on Elain, it literally tells us Elain is next once we’re done helping Nesta. EASY MATH. and the Azriel bonus also focuses on elriel/Azriel’s feelings. ENDGAME MATERIAL RIGHT HERE.

But the girls swear up and down that Gwyn and Azriel’s book is next because of a secondhand necklace.

Let’s assume elriels are the delusional ones (like so many of them say), how do we explain these.

Casual readers who usually read books and aren’t on the internet and aren’t looking for bonus content (wish that was me) (lord knows I skipped every bonus chapter in throne of glass and crescent city and I wasn’t confused about anything. Not even once) so they’d expect answers for

The Charged glance between Azriel and Elain

Azriel following the sound of Elain’s laughter.

Elain looking away when Azriel smiled at her during family dinner, Cassian god bless him that idiot could NOT piece all of that together. BUT it was still highlighted through his POV ???

His secret to tell never hers (and we do learn of that secret in the bonus but people who didn’t read it could only guess so they’d want a confirmation) and sjm did say in one of her lives that Nesta learns of one of Azriel’s secrets (she looked all giddy about it)... and that Azriel is going through some shit right now…and we learn why from the bonus chapter.

Cassian being confused that it seems like Azriel moved on from Mor

Nesta pointing out that Elain moved on from Graysen

Cassian wondering why Elain is lying about where she’s going. (I viewed this as her avoiding Azriel but idk)

Azriel’s protectiveness of Elain. He gives mate behavior without the mate part. (I will hit him on the head though omg let my girl do something)

Elain willing to look for the troves even when Nesta wasn’t, the girl wants to do something (her journey is coming next)

Nesta wondering if Elain is training with Azriel or the twins (who are spies that were trained by Azriel !!!)

Feyre telling Azriel that Elain got him beat for secret keeping. Sure it might sound delusional but Elain keeps being compared to Az/being a spy and maybe this could be a thing.

Elain speaking back to her sisters about them treating her like a child?? Hello finally

The way Elain’s mother only treated her like a pretty doll which shaped up Elain’s whole life??? I want this from Elain’s POV sooo bad

In conclusion, we’re not pausing Elain’s story so Azriel can end up with a side character in a spinoff about an og side character, we’re sticking to our og side characters for now.

Azriel being over Mor because of Elain, and Elain moving on from Graysen because of Azriel only for Elain to get over Azriel to be with Lucien (who we got nothing from aside a mating bond..) and for Az to get over Elain and questioning fate for her…only to end up with gwyn…like I don’t think anyone could take Azriel’s feelings seriously if this happens. Shit will be too goofy. Because if he ends up with Gwyn who says he won’t move on to the next pretty girl he sees afterwards.

To add to that, what plot would we have for Azriel and Gwyn. We'll get more Valkyries training, more healing journey so the plot would have to be paused for this. Nesta’s book was mostly about her healing journey and friendship, while it was nice I don’t want a repeat for the next book. Especially since we know the Rite took a toll on Gwyn, she went back to the library, wasn’t even sure she would make it to Nessian’s mating ceremony. This doesn’t give the protagonist of the next book to me. Or "I thought it was pretty obvious"

Elain’s healing journey had started in ACOWAR, she got her friends in ACOWAR. Now is their TIME to do something!! She is next.

Closing thoughts on what I think would happen based off each ship happening:

If elriel happens = new sjm couple dynamic/interesting plot. Fresh sjm protagonist that is unlike sjm's others + we don’t ignore all the foreshadowing and hints. We follow the love triangle we set up in the og trilogy + finally get a rejected mating bond. And instead of warrior training we might get spy training and instead of physical power (as far as we know) we get something more mental. Again this is very new for sjm + there’s a lot to Elain’s power that we don’t know and since Azriel was the one who found out what she was, I think it would make more sense for him to know how to help her. Imagine the sexual tension during training..yes please. I hope sjm doesn’t rob me. Elain is really mysterious, we got Nesta’s inner thoughts before her book but we still haven't gotten a peep about Elain’s inner thoughts and I’m just dying to know more. AND THE STAKES!

1) Rhys forbidding Azriel from Elain, 2) Elain’s mating bond,3) Azriel’s self doubt and how he doesn’t think he’s good enough. 4) The blood duel and the political mess we could get into. (Lucien probs won't but what if Beron would, the breeding potential, A seer must be a powerful thing she can see things others can't and I think that’s valuable. If Eris thought Nesta was valuable as cauldron made and there was no potential there, so The Autumn court probably feels even more entitled to Elain) We have high inner and outer stakes. I have a feeling SJM will fumble all this potential but a girl can dream

If elucien happens = another successful mating bond + “enemies” to lovers sort of but they won’t ever be mean to each other so maybe not enemies, just dislike and awkwardness to friends to lovers? We ignore the hints about a rejected bond and in mating bonds we trust. We also ignore all the elriel hints, and their mutual feelings. We follow the love triangle set up in the og trilogy. I don’t think Lucien could train her in anything? Maybe self defense, Idk Sarah could pull something, but I don’t see Elain leaving her circle of friends but neither do I see Lucien settling in the night court and leaving his own friends. There are no stakes but Elain’s and Lucien’s awkwardness around each other + Elain’s feelings for Azriel. Elain’s and Lucien’s plot connects though so at least there’s that, SJM could ship them off on a mission together and make them get closer. Forced proximity sort of thing.

If gwynriel happens then = we lost the whole plot, ignored the foreshadowing and hints found in the actual book. Mentor to lovers, civil with each other. Azriel has to move on from Elain first though and that could be icky. Healing journey, more Valkyries training. So we pick up from where we left off in acosf, and we’d see Azriel trying to get her to come out of the Library, or he goes to visit her there until she agrees to come out again. Maybe if Gwyn is a lightsinger then idk more training with Azriel? Again, no stakes but Gwyn’s trauma and Azriel’s self doubt oh and also his feelings for Elain. But that’s it, Gwyn as of now does not connect to the overall plot with the troves (she’s not made therefore she can’t use them) or koschei. So I don’t see us making her go on a mission like that. I’ve seen a lot of gwynriles saying Gwyn has spy potential idk where, but she could barely keep a secret for Nesta so I highly doubt she’d be keeping secrets for the IC.

Ps: the original koschei plot is 3 sisters marrying 3 very powerful wizards and like idk 3 sisters 3 brothers…we can have a retelling ya know

#elriel #pro elain #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #Azriel's bonus #anti g*ynriel #anti el*cien #elain archeron #acofas #acosf

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kvothe-kingkiller · 5 months

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I'm not the best writer when it comes to writing convincing essays or whatever, but I'm going to give this a go because it's something that I've thought for a long time that I've never seen anyone really acknowledge unless I bring it up first. (also I am sick and don't really want to do much editing here, just rambles, so good luck)

I think that when most (not all, but most) people get salty about 'modern art', they are not salty about the things people think they are salty about. When they say "this isn't art", theres an important bit that they're not articulating. What I think most of them mean is "this isn't art that should be in a museum." "this isn't art that should cost this much" "this isn't art that should be getting this kind of recognition". And there is a huge difference between that and just saying "this isn't art"

Firstly, all of the arguments about why modern art is in fact art straight up....don't apply. They don't address the problem, they don't answer the question. This isn't really anyone's fault per se, given that it is addressing the literal statement, it's just I think most people aren't actually thinking that literal statement.

So then what do they really mean? Like I said, I think they're trying to articulate why they're frustrated that this art is in a museum when "they could do it". So when you say "okay then, you do it" that doesn't address the core issue, which is "but why is this getting recognition for it, and I would get none" because yes, unless they are famous, they would get Zero recognition for it. Nobody would be lining up to buy their art, no one would ask to put it in a museum. Best place they can hope to have this displayed is a fridge door.

When you look at a piece of fine art, most can see the amount of effort put into it. They see how much training it took to get there, they see how much time it took to put those strokes on that canvas and they can go "yeah, that took skill, that took effort, not everyone can do that. it deserves recognition". And a lot of modern art does take skill, it's just skill that isn't easily noticeable to the average viewer, such as rothko's color fields, they do take a lot of skill and effort, you just can't see it if you don't know. But a lot of modern art that people complain about isn't something that has skill that's not recognized, it just requires very little technical skill at all (not a condemnation, btw).

When you're talking about something 'anyone can do' that piece's value is often not a recognition of skill, or even of the message, it's a recognition of a name. It's similar to having a gucci bag because it's a gucci bag, not because you care remotely about the bag. Yes, art isn't displayed because of how much effort went into it, but it's a huge industry that many many people are making money through from sheer name recognition alone.

Like that one painting of that one artist's (I forget which artist and my cursory google isnt finding it, but also its just an example) where it got replicated and sold to a bunch of people for a large amount of money so they could all have something that had a small chance of being a genuine painting by the artist, that's an excellent example of the fact that a lot of the gallery-level art world is Entirely about the name, not about the piece itself. If someone just made that painting but didn't say it could be from the artist, then who cares?

If you go to ringo starr's art website (https://www.ringostarrart.com/) then you can see that some of his work, especially his older work, is of that category of stuff that many people would say "I could do that" to. For instance, these two? 1,400 and 6,000 pounds respectively for a PRINT of these from his website

....okay this one I kinda enjoy.

but still. 2,000 pounds for a print.

All of this is possible because he's ringo fucking starr, he can sell his paintings for whatever he wants. If I tried to sell those for that much, I'd be laughed out of the room. All of it is just clout, it's just how big your name is and how much you can use that as leverage.

This is not to say that other forms of art don't also have this issue, they do, especially with people devaluing creative works so much today. But you could probably get a few commissions if you sell realistic art or do commissions of people's characters, while you Cannot get any money trying to sell stuff like ringos art unless you already have an audience who will buy it.

This does somewhat lead into a discussion of how art curators pick which artists are 'good' somewhat arbitrarily, but that's a whole other post.

Doing art for 'yourself' vs for other people or money is also a whole other post, one which I've actually seen quite a lot on here. But suffice to say if your response to all of this is 'just make art for yourself! Why do you need recognition?' then maybe go find some of those posts. It's not bad to want recognition, and it's not bad to question why that guy is getting much more recognition for the exact same thing you're doing just because he has a bunch of rich friends who are able to host fancy parties and go 'hmm. yes this is good art.' (not that all modern artists had rich friends, but they did almost all get Extremely lucky in some shape or another that led to them now being widely accepted as good artists).

You cannot make a living off modern art unless you're well known, and if you happen to be well known already, you could likely make a living off modern art without having any experience, and that's what a lot of people hate about modern art, even if they don't articulate it. While some would, most wouldn't say "my five year old could do that" to someone's personal piece that they made themselves and hung up in their home, or that their friend made and gave to them. They say that about the pieces bought for thousands of dollars or millions of dollars.

And I don't want people to think that I do hate modern art, I don't (though this is tumblr, so I'm pissing on the poor just by writing this). I don't hate any of the famous modern artists, I don't think modern art isn't art. I do hate the industry that says their art is suddenly worth something just because some rich fuckers somewhere decided they should be, and anything I tried to do in a similar vein, original or not, would be better suited to sit in a coffee shop and continuously marked down and never sold.

So next time you say "so why don't you make it", maybe ask yourself if you would buy it.

#THIS RANT TO YOU BROUGHT BY COVID ISOLATION #long post #modern art #art

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austronauts · 3 months

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we need to talk about mitch’s interview on 32 thoughts can u please gather around

first of all mitch sounds so congested it’s no wonder he’s always sneef snorfing

i’ve never heard mitch sound more articulately authoritative than when talking about the evolution of building in fortnite (also jeff and elliotte enthusiastically guffawing in reaction to mitch talking about fortnite LIKE THEY HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT HE MEANS lmao)

apparently the leafs teammate he plays the most video games with is RYAN REAVES. for about an hour and a half after leafs games to unwind. REAVO. and MITCH. mitch also made sure to point out that reavo has TWO KIDS and is a busy father bc of course he did. “this busy working father of two still makes time after a long grueling workday for me :3” mitchell marner do u hear urself?

also u know how uncles hate mitch bc he plays video games and wears hats and hits the griddy instead of benching testosterroni pizza at the gym to get swole, and they had hopes that reavo would bully mitch into growing tf up and being a MAN - well. the reavo in question is dialed in on CoD with mitch marner rn taking out NPC’s. lol and lmao even

mitch mentions zeus so many times like. so many times. he also takes the time to explain “zeus, my chocolate lab” as if every human and dog in canada don’t already know mitch’s dog is a chocolate lab named zeus.

he mentions his dog so much i got confused when mitch started talking about “the dogg” aka nathan mackinnon bc i was like wait zeus did what now

his story about him and nate at biosteel camp had me GIGGLING bc you can so see nate doing exactly this: “i skated with [nate] at biosteel camp a couple of yrs ago. i didn't make a play to him & you would've thought it was an olympic gold medal game based on how he was talking to me on the bench. i was like 'nate. we're sitting here at this camp. what do you want me to do?’”

obviously i know mitch and nate are fond of each other (the dynamics of which in itself are so funny to me)

but i just love how nate has been like: ohhhh tiny nerdy mitch i wish i could kidnap him and take him to colorado what a great little marns

and then mitch is like: that man is insane!! he yelled at me!!!!!!!

mitch got all modest and shy when asked what it would be like to be on a line with nate representing canada in the olympics and demurred like “ohhhh gosh 🥹🥺 well first i have to make the team and it would just be an HONOUR to be chosen for such a thing 🥹🥺 im just little ole me” like…first of all ok girl we all know ur gonna be there

#mitch marner #i just felt like adding that baldurs gate image at the end don’t question it

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madameaug · 7 months

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3D || JJK x Black OC

Pairing: Celebrity Jungkook x Non-Celebrity Jennette

Feature: Jack Harlow

WC: 900 ish

Context: Things are going smoothly on the second day of filming for Jungkook's solo '3D' with Kentucky rapper Jack Harlow. But tempers rise when Jack takes a flirtatious approach to Jungkook's girl.

Jungkook naturally had a positive attitude. He got a full nights rest and he had a tasty American breakfast. He was on set for the second and final day of filming for his single '3D'. It would be his second solo song with the new direction and image he was launching.

Seven was just a tiny drop in the pond for the full extent he wanted. He was tired of the 'baby' and 'maknae' cape he wore for the many years he was a part of BTS. Of course, he couldn't deny the fact that he was the youngest member of the group, but he was twenty-six. He was a grown man and he was entitled to his sexuality. He wanted to express how raunchy and nasty he could be is. I mean he was in a long term relationship with his girlfriend, fans couldnt' have thought that he was just holding hands with her. They would be delusional.

Currently, Jungkook was sitting in his trailer rubbing the soft fabric of the neon pink romper Jennette was wearing. She laid down on her stomach, scrolling through her phone. Her legs were across his lap, giving unrestricted access to her plump behind. What she it lacked in size, it overcompensated in weight. Any time she walked there was a jiggle that caught Jungkook's attention.

"Bug look at this." Jennette turned showing Jungkook a video of Jack Harlow's story. "He's here." The Kentucky rapper had tagged the singer in a Instagram story showing that he had arrived on set. The diamond crusted shape of Kentucky reflecting off the sunlight.

A sequential knock on the trailer could be heard. A slight groan Jennette moved off of Jungkook allowing him to stand up fully. Opening the door Jack Harlow had a big smile on his face. He dapped Jungkook.

"What's poppin."

Jungkook returned the same enthusiasm. Using the English that he knew. He was now at a conversational level thanks to Jennette and could better articulate himself. Jennette just look at the two men conversing with each other. Unaware at the secret glances to she was receiving from Jack.

Jack immediately noticed the feminine fragrance in the trailer. The scent couldn't belong to no one other than the beauty sitting on Jungkook's leather couch. Her legs were crossed over one another, and he could see the pure white color she sported on her toes. Two gold hoop piercings hanging on each nostril, elevated her look. Baby hairs were laid, with lips dewey and glossy. Her hair was shaped like a cloud, and not in its usual protective style.

Jungkook wasn't an idiot and watched the glances Jack made behind him. He was probably just curious about who Jennette was. Thinking nothing of it, Jungkook formally introduced the pair.

"Jeanie come meet Jack. Jack this is 'Jennette', Jeanie this is Jack."

Jennette smiled with simple wave.

"Had I known there were going to be gorgeous models like her I would have gotten here earlier so I could get to know her." Jack lifted Jennette's hand bringing it to his lips.

"Oh that's not necessary." Jennette dryly laughed, pulling her hand away. Once it was behind her back, she discreetly wiped any trace of his lips on her back.

"Jeanie was it?"

"ACTUALLY it's Jennette." Jungkook stepped in the middle of the two.

Thinking fast, Jennette bawled up her face appearing to sneeze. She turned behind her before letting out the fake sneeze.

"My allergies must be acting up. Let me go blow my nose." Jennette excused herself, before leaving the trailer. Before closing the door behind her. In another moment of disrespect Jack turned his head to watch Jennette leave the trailer. He bit his lip, before tucking his hands in his pocket. He rocked on his toes, before whispering a 'damn' to himself.

Jungkook found himself outside of his body. He saw himself wrapping his hands around Jack's neck. Shaking common sense into his thick skull. How dare he make a clear pass at his girlfriend, in front of his presence. His eye twitched at the lingering thought.

It took alot for Jungkook to get out of character. Having fame at such a young age taught him how to grow thick skin and how to let some things roll of his back. He was good at picking which battles were worth fighting over. And his relationship with Jennette was always one worth fighting for.

Jennette was one of the best things to ever happen to him. He trusted her and developed a deep love for her. One day when he will be courageous enough to get down on one knee and ask her to spend the rest of her life with him. He could see the day happening any time soon. A future with Jennette was his endgame.

And collaboration be damned, Jungkook wasn't going to let Jack get away with that.

"Don't disrespect me or my girl like that." Jungkook's tone was sharp and cold. His eyes narrowing in on Jack's face. He was watching every thought cross his mind. His eyebrows furrowed, at the drastic demeanor change.

"Your girl? I was just being polite-"

"Polite? Yeah right, you were clearly flirting with her in front of me."

"I didn't know she was your girl, my bad bro."

"Damn right. Don't try that again."

Jack noted putting both of his hands up backing away slowly. Sheesh

#bts x black reader #jungkook x jennette #jungkook #bts #jungkook x blackreader #black oc #black fem reader #jungkook imagines #jungkook 3d #black kpop fans #jack harlow

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dameronology · 6 months

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couples therapy (frank castle)

summary: you go to couple's therapy with frank castle. it's just as terrible as you can imagine.

warnings: so much language. at least 10 f-bombs.

enjoy xx

Couples therapy felt like a stupid fucking idea, to be honest.

There was only three feet between you and Frank; you wanted to be closer but at the same time, you wanted to drop kick his loud-talking, argumentative, defensive ass to the other side of the city. No, scratch that. The country, or maybe even world. Somewhere far enough so that you didn't have to look at his stupid face but somewhere close enough that you could still reach out for him in the night. Somewhere far enough so that you couldn't hear that gravelly voice that made your skin crawl, but somewhere close enough so that he could still whisper horny sweet nothings in your ear.

And it was thoughts like that that made you realise why you were here.

There had been a few weeks of tension; that had grown into two months of shit bubbling under the surface. You were mad at him. He was mad at you. You couldn't bring it up because he'd accuse you of overreacting and he couldn't bring it up because even before all the PTSD-causing-crap he'd lived through, Frank was shit at coming to terms with how he felt about things. Vocalising his emotions wasn't his strongpoint. Revenge and killing was. So, safe to say that this was his personal form of hell. Anyways. That shit had hit the fan eventually and now it was splattered all over the room and it was covering you both and no matter how many metaphorical showers you took, nothing would fix this except the clean slate that emotional catharsis would bring you.

Maybe you'd break up. Maybe you'd stay together. Maybe it was all up to the gaunt, old man in the chair opposite you who reminded you a little too much of John Kramer and was draining $50 an hour from your bank right now. Did they do Groupons for couples therapy?

"So," he began. His name was Doctor Richards. He was a little too quiet for your liking. "Tell me...why are you here?"

Frank let out a gruff laugh. "Isn't that what you're here to tell us, Doc?"

"No, actually," he shook his head. "You explain your problems to me and I'll give you reasonable solutions to try and fix those problems."

There was a moment of silence, and Doctor Richards glanced at you.

"Is he always this defensive?"

It was your turn to laugh now.

"Uhhh, not always," you replied. "Not with me, at least. More so with other people."

"So he's more open with you?" the doctor raised his eyebrows, but then glanced between you. "Emotional vulnerability is a good sign. A sign of life - of course, unless, this has changed over the course of your relationship."

"It hasn't," Frank firmly said. "I laid myself bare the day we met. That hasn't changed."

"He's right," you nodded. "I just...I think you have a hard time articulating your feelings, Frank. Sometimes when you do open up to me, it turns into an argument."

"That's bullshit," Frank muttered.

You cleared your throat and turned to look back at your relationship saviour. "We're here because we argue too fucking much, doc. If I say nothing, he gets mad. If I respond, I'm overreacting-"

"- because you do overreact!" he interrupted you.

"Maybe because you never let me fucking talking talk!" you snapped.

"Guys!" Richards cut you both off. "This is a safe space and I'm going to give you both a chance to talk. That's how you get to the bottom of things."

You glanced at Frank. "Can I go first?"

"Yes."

Shuffling uncomfortably in your seat, you glanced down at your hands and cleared your throat. There was so much on your mind but a complete disconnect between your brain and your mouth; translating your thoughts into feelings was hard at the best of times, but even harder under pressure. You didn't want to say something to upset Frank, even less to hurt him.

"I..." you trailed off. "I've always been someone who likes to talk about things, you know? I like to communicate, especially with the people I love, so I'm always open when something upsets me or doesn't feel right. Conversation is important to me but I think you're different, Frank. You like to think and not feel and when you refuse to talk to me about shit, it hurts. It's like you can open up to me about all your feelings except the ones about me and in my mind,. those are the most important ones."

Frank didn't respond; he just looked at you.

"For someone that chats so much shit, you sure seem to keep quiet on a lot of things," you continued, voice dropping to a murmur now. "I'm not overreacting when I respond the way I do. It's just fucking frustrating."

He looked away, brown eyes staring blankly at the wall behind Richards for a moment. That was the first time in the better part of three years that you's actually seen Frank quiet.

(Save for when he was sleeping, and the time he almost died in the middle of your living room).

"I like to keep certain things quiet," Frank finally spoke. His eyes flickered from the wall, down to your new therapist. "I work a night job, doc. It gets stressful. I deal with some heavy shit."

"It's an overused saying, but a problem halved is a problem shared," Richards replied. "You have a partner who is willing to listen. One who I assume knows their threshold, and would tell you if sharing it was too much."

"He's right," you said. "When you shut me out and bottle it up, it builds up, and then you get shitty with me and it manifests itself in every part of your life. Of our lives. Because we're intertwined as shit, Frank, and you can't pick and choose what parts you share with me."

Frank sniffed. "Well, hell. Look at us breaking ground."

"A lot of people come into couple therapy assuming it means their relationship is over," Richards said. "That's almost never the case. It shows you're both willing to work on it."

Your eyes fell to the floor for a moment. Frank had been strangely willing to come here; it wasn't something you'd thought about too much before now, but his willingness felt like hope to you. This time a few years ago, he would have walked away at the first sign of trouble. Now he wanted to take your hand and walk towards it.

"I can't tell you about all your problems based entirely on this conversation, but I can...I can share some introspection from a third party perspective," Richards said. "Frank, you have a partner whose willing to listen, but...maybe they go about saying it in the wrong way. Maybe it feels forced, or like they're not letting you do it on their own terms."

"I guess," Frank murmured. "What if I don't want to share? What if...what if I just want to protect them from all this dark shit?"

"You can choose what you share," he replied. "But if you choose not to share, you have to communicate that."

The apartment was tense when you and Frank got back. It had been a tense two hours; talks of communication and honesty, of sharing your lives and being partners. It had been okay for the first hour, but as soon as you hit the second you felt like you'd kind of gotten the point. You and Frank weren't the worst couple in the world, and couple therapy was fucking boring. That had been your main take away.

You threw your keys on the side, dumping your jacket as you entered the flat. Everything was as you left it; washing up from breakfast in the sink, pile of boots by the door, a letter pinned on your notice board about an increase in rent. All things that were headaches in themselves, but simply just contributing factors to a bigger, ongoing migraine. Frank was behind you, dragging his feet and huffing.

"Something you want to share, Frankie?" you asked, glancing over your shoulder.

"That felt like bullshit."

You snorted. "I felt like I was being listened to for the first time in months. Maybe that speaks volumes."

"Oh, come on," he rolled his eyes. "How are we leavin' couples therapy and you're already having a go at me?"

"Sorry," you murmured. "Honestly, Frank, I'm just fucking frustrated. I've said all I need to say but...whether or not you wanna listen and actually work on it is what counts."

"Are you dumb?" Frank asked, but quickly regretted his choice of words. "Shit. Baby, I'm sorry - I didn't mean it like that-"

"- how the fuck did you mean it then, Franklin?"

He paused, holding his hands out for a moment. "I just sat in a cramped room with some Jigsaw lookin' motherfucker for the better part of two hours, listening to you complain - rightfully so, don't get me wrong - and tryna take notes on how I can be a better partner to you. Maybe it's not obvious, and maybe it won't be for hot a fuckin' minute, not until I've got my ducks in a line, or just shot em all, but just...I will try, okay? I need you to be patient with me but..."

Frank took your hand, placing your palm on his chest. He covered it with his own large one, tangling your fingers together and pausing for a moment.

"I need patience...please?"

You nodded, letting him squeeze your hand. "Yeah. Shit, Frankie, I'm sorry. I love you."

He smiled. "I love you too."

"We'll be okay, won't we?"

"Of course we will."

#frank castle #the punisher #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle imagines #frank castle angst #frank castle fluff #frank castle x you #frank castle reader insert #punisher x reader #punisher imagine #punisher imagines #punisher x you #marvel imagines #marvel x reader

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sparkplug02 · 4 months

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Redeemable Ares?

I know, I know. I’m suggesting it anyway.

Background: One of my teachers in high school said this to my class on the very first day of a new year: “I hate you all equally.” This piqued my interest because it broke my expectations of what most teachers tell their students, so I paid attention to him.

Two years later, I figured out what he meant by that; it was a defense mechanism. This particular teacher held all students at arms length because they would all graduate and leave, and most of them never came back around. Easier to move on if there’s not as much to move on from. He also just… isn’t a very affectionate person to begin with, but that combined with this made for one of the most guarded teachers I’ve ever had.

So my thought is that, since Uncle Rick is taking time to flesh out a few characters more and/or differently than he did in the books, maybe he’s taking a twist with Ares too.

Ares is the Greek god of war. War is not a place for kids, but they are undoubtedly hurt by it constantly despite being innocent. This applies especially demigod children, seeing as they’re constantly hunted by monsters and manipulated by the gods. If your domain is full of death and loss and suffering, ideally, you would not want to see many kids in the midst of that.

Even in peacetime, mortals also have a shorter lifespan than gods. 80 years isn’t very long if you’re immortal, and most demigods don’t live that long either. If you make deep relational bonds with people all the time, you will inevitably experience loss regularly and often. It would wear down on anyone after a while, even if there is no war to be concerned with.

My thought is that maybe Ares “hates” kids as a defense mechanism to protect his emotions and hide any vulnerability. Maybe he “hates” his kids less because they remind him of occasional moments of good he had with his partners, but all the more reason to stay away from them. He “hates” seeing kids in war.

“Look what I made!” It won’t last. “What are butterflies for?” Not for keeping you alive. “My knee hurts!” You’ll die soon. The winter solstice? How many of those kids won’t come back next year? How many of them will be offered up as sacrifices to be slaughter by the next solstice?

Ares is the god of war. It his HIS domain that kills children that don’t deserve it. Maybe he doesn’t want to see them in his domain. Maybe he doesn’t want to think about the burden of relationships he know won’t last. Maybe (in flashes of subconscious self-awareness) he thinks he is the problem. He is bad for them and he causes their deaths so any time he sees a kid, he hates that the likelihood of their death just shot up exponentially. But that’s too much to articulate concisely so he chalks it up to “I hate kids.” It’s a lot easier.

Doesn’t mean he’s not an asshole about it, but it could happen somewhere down the line. Maybe. I think it would be cool to see in later seasons. Don’t know how that would manifest, especially since Ares and Percy beef regardless of age, but you never know.

#Percy Jackson #percy jackson fandom #percy jackson spoilers #pjo show #pjo #pjo series #pjo tv show #pjo spoilers #pjo fandom #percy jackson meta #pjo meta #ares #ares god of war #ares pjo #pjo 1x05 #1x05 #lightning thief

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porcelainseashore · 14 days

Text

Into the Ether (3)

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, ...)

Pairing: Vampire! Toreador! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

Summary: At the all-night events cafe you run, you’ve become acquainted with an elusive patron, Leon, though you can never remember the last moments of your interactions together. After a harrowing encounter, a love-hate relationship develops between the two of you as you grapple with your newfound status in a world of darkness and investigate the reasons behind the untimely attacks.

Content & Warnings: 18+ Resident Evil x Vampire: The Masquerade crossover, horror, mystery, romance, slow burn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, eventual smut, swearing, smoking, non consensual blood drinking, blood bond, vampire turning, violence, injury, mild gore, torture, religious themes, minor character death, RE characters (Chris, Claire, Ada, Wesker, Jill, Sherry, Hunnigan, Rebecca, Baker Family, Merchant, Patrick, Luis), VtM concepts (Camarilla, Anarch, Sabbat, Second Inquisition, Toreador, Ventrue, Brujah, Gangrel, Nosferatu, Malkavian, Tremere, Ghouls).

Authors' Note: Suggestive themes, violence and mild gore ahead.

Taglist: @admirxation @xoxostarlet @miss-oranje-disco-dancer ❤️‍🔥

AO3 Link

Chapter 3: Fires of Rebellion

“So, talk,” you demanded, crossing your arms as you kept yourself at a suitable distance from Leon.

Both of you were currently walking up north along Good Street towards the City College. The plan had been to take a left at some point and head over to the park by Warren Street, where hopefully there would be some benches for you to relax on. It was still early enough in the night for your surroundings to be relatively bustling with people, so you weren’t too worried that the man beside you would try anything risky or stupid. In any case, you knew where you kept your pepper spray at hand if things went south.

“You’d already sensed it from the beginning,” he stated, swallowing thickly. How was it this hard to tell you who he really was? If he could sweat blood, he’d fill a whole bucket’s worth. Pig’s blood. A cop in pig’s blood. He knew plenty of people who’d pay to see him drenched in the vermillion fluid. “That I’m not exactly normal.” That was what he settled with.

“What, you mean like a serial killer or something?” you scoffed, shaking your head in mild vexation.

“No.” His voice was solemn but firm as he glanced at you briefly, making eye contact. “I didn’t… assault you, not in the way you think.” He pressed his lips together into a thin line. “I just— I do things… that aren’t exactly normal.”

Great, Leon. You just made yourself sound like a fucking magician. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and paused his footsteps. “This is going well.”

You almost felt sorry for the guy. He seemed to be having such a difficult time articulating what he wanted to say. Was it some sort of kink he was talking about? The logical part of your mind berated you, insisting that this could go down far worse than you imagined, but you pushed it aside.

“Like what?” you asked, your morbid curiosity getting the better of you.

His jaw tightened as he shifted his weight uncomfortably from side to side.

Before he could respond, you took the initiative, positioning yourself in front of him as a form of challenge. “Show me,” you requested.

His head darted in every direction, scanning the area with an animalistic instinctiveness and you thought you saw his eyes illuminate in a different color. However, when you blinked a second later, it had returned to its original pale shade of blue. “Too many people,” he muttered. “I’ll do as you ask, but we need to head somewhere quieter.”

You should’ve ran off after he said that, but your legs stayed rooted to the ground. Your lack of self-preservation was alarming. “The park, then?” you suggested.

He nodded in compromise. “I could work with that.”

The rest of the walk there took place in awkward silence, as you dwelled on what he would do and whether you were walking into one big, fat trap. Well, at least Patrick had his business card. And PIs, they had a registered license, didn’t they? It was too late to back out now, you’d gone this far and you wanted to see it through.

When you had found a secluded bench at one of the shaded corners of the park, he spoke up again. “Do you remember the first night we met? When—”

“You offered me cigarettes in exchange for coffee,” you finished the sentence for him.

“Yes,” he said with a wistful smile, as if reminiscing about a day he’d cherished but had long since passed. “You felt it, didn’t you? Compelled to stay, but with no reason why.”

Despite your reluctance, you had to agree with him. That moment between standing by his table and sitting with him to share in a smoke had been like entering the twilight zone. You were you, but yet, at the same time, weren’t.

“I can do it again here, if you want,” he murmured, his eyes burning with an intensity that seemed to bore right into you.

It wasn’t the first time you had leaped before looking. You’d always been known to be a little more reckless than your peers, but it seemed like you never really learnt your lesson well. “Be my guest,” you gestured melodramatically, as your hand swept across in one grand motion.

“Now, you’re just mocking me,” he chided, though a ghost of a smile still lingered on his lips.

This time, there was a tingling sensation in your body, like an invisible warm light gradually enveloping you, except it seemed to exude from him. You were entranced by his stature, the minute details of his face, everything about what he was, to the point where you couldn’t tear yourself away from his gaze.

“Sit,” he directed gently, placing his hand along the back of the wooden bench.

You felt nothing but desire. Desire to do anything he wanted you to. Without a word, you sank onto the bench like a doll, still giving him that doe-eyed expression one would normally reserve for a celebrity they were starstruck by.

Taking his seat beside you, he urged, “Come closer.”

Obediently, you shuffled up along the bench towards him, except it wasn’t out of fear of punishment, but a strange, radiant love that emanated from within you. When you were just inches away from his face, he slowly revealed the tips of his canine teeth, which were pointier than usual, and seemed to grow with each passing minute. As his features eased up, you could feel the uncanny warmth dissipate from your core, and though you were still captivated by him, his face seemed to lack the same lustrous sheen it held moments ago. Like a wandering spirit, you had arrived back into your own body. You were you again.

His eyes latched onto you, waiting, watching, biding his time, to see what you would do. Though he remained poised and composed, the unsteadiness of his breathing and the flicker of trepidation across his irises gave him away. He was afraid that you would leave him, for good. And after what he had given to have the right to Embrace you, he wouldn’t know how he would live with himself if he were rejected.

It felt like hours had gone by until one of you spoke up. “Do you hate what you see?”

“No,” you answered, almost too quickly, cupping his cold cheek in the palm of your hand. He closed his eyes and sighed blissfully into it, releasing a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. It felt moist and heated against your skin.

You surprised yourself with how well you were taking all of this in. This shouldn’t have been possible and nothing about what he had shown you made sense. You blamed your tolerance on the late, sleepless nights and hanging around with the offbeat characters who frequented your cafe.

What if monsters did exist? you humored. Maybe not in the literal sense of vampires, but someone who relished the flavor of blood, and who’d learnt a few tricks of hypnotism. You tried to rationalize it as much as you could, but there were still so many missing pieces you did not fully understand.

“How many times?” you asked. “Did you force me… each night?”

He lowered his gaze, marred by shame, while looking to his hands nestled in his lap. “It was just that once,” he whispered. “I wanted you to stay with me.”

He pursed his lips. “The rest, later on… was you.”

“Did you—”

“Yes.”

You didn’t even need to continue your sentence for him to know what you meant. Yes, he tasted your blood. Yes, he enjoyed it. Yes, he came back for more. And more.

“I’m sorry,” his voice cracked.

You didn’t acknowledge his apology, allowing even more time to slip through your fingers. A while later, you ran them along his cheek towards his lips, where his teeth which now looked more like fangs lurked. Right, how would you explain that away?

He didn’t stop you when you traced one of their edges, as if trying to figure out if they were real. He let you press the tip of your finger against its peak, purposely pricking yourself in some kind of deluded masochistic fantasy. The rush you felt from it was indescribable, like a spike of venom flowing into your veins, though it wasn’t as intense as the previous times to truly immobilize you. Grasping onto the back of the bench, you steadied yourself from the dizzying sensation.

A dark, ruby bead blossomed at the site of the puncture. His mouth lay open as he inhaled sharply, gripping the trousers on his thighs, and there was a wild look in his bloodshot eyes. However, he remained motionless, restraining himself somehow, as if awaiting your instruction.

“You like this?” A mixture of bewilderment and arousal seeped into your tone, as you brought your bleeding finger to rest just at the entrance of his mouth.

All at once, his veneer of calmness shattered. He swirled his tongue against your fingertip, causing you to gasp as it made hot laps around the miniscule droplet of blood you had to offer him. Dipping his head, he took the rest of your digit into his mouth, eventually sucking on it whole as he emitted a low groan in pleasure. When he finally let it go, a slick string of saliva connected to it from his lips, wet and hungry with need.

“I, um—” you shuddered, at a loss for words, as you retracted your finger, folding it into your hand.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he straightened up in his seat, adjusting his attire and hair, as if he had come back to his senses once again. “You don’t have to decide on this right now,” he assured you.

“Okay.” You nodded shakily, your mind spinning from all the events that had just transpired. “Could we take another short walk before I head home?”

It would probably help to cool off a little, you thought.

“Anything you need,” he asserted, getting up as he took another glance around the park, before extending his hand to you.

You stared at it, contemplating further. “Just don’t—” you hesitated, pausing to rephrase your words. “I want to trust you, Leon.”

“I’ll earn it back,” he promised. “However long it takes.”

That was all you needed to hear from him. Perhaps you were naive to a fault, but you took his hand anyway, allowing him to lead you out of the park, and to whatever else fate had in store for you that night.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Over the course of the evening, a thin fog had developed, shrouding the sky and enveloping the moon and stars in a blurry veil, casting a muted light over the city. You and Leon had taken a short detour towards the more touristy part of town, where the landmark Saint Michael Clock Tower overlooked the grand waterway.

The ornate, Gothic structure loomed intimidatingly ahead, its roof cloaked in a wispy gray mist, though you could still make out the time on its huge clock face. Ten minutes past midnight. It was getting late, and although you were accustomed to working until the wee hours of the morning, you preferred to get some sleep on your nights off when possible. However, right now, a part of you wished that the night would last longer.

There wasn’t such a wide distance between you and Leon as before. In fact, your fingers were nearly touching, but neither of you had taken it further to close the final gap. Even in complete silence, punctuated only by the sounds of the city’s buzzing nightlife, both of you had somehow agreed on which pathways to take, falling in sync with each other’s footsteps, pauses and turns, like an unspoken dance. It was nice like this, having no expectations of the other person, just walking and feeling the thread of connection that bound the two of you.

Every now and then, he peered at you inquisitively, and you wondered if he had something to say, but when you looked his way, he turned his gaze back to the street in front of him. Coming to the entrance of a tunnel arbor near the clocktower, you paused to admire the sight of the vines and flowers that were wound around the metallic arches, interspersed with marigold fairy lights. There were still a decent number of stragglers in the vicinity. Probably the remaining tourists for the day who didn’t quite want to wrap up yet, some of whom were posing for pictures near the picaresque arbors.

“Cat caught your tongue?” Always the instigator and taking the confrontational approach. That was what you were known for.

“Hm?” he deflected, yet smiled at you knowingly.

“Just looked like you had something to say.” You shrugged, placing your hands on your hips.

“Nothing escapes you, huh?”

He was teasing you again; you were certain of it. Though this appeared to be twofold, where the second part was meant as a misdirection to hide a secret from you.

“It should be obvious that I like you,” he stated plainly.

Obvious to the point where he couldn’t afford to have one of those obnoxious Anarchs stake their claim over you, just for a bit of territory. You were worth so much more to him than that. Surely, it would be the lesser of two evils for him to be the one to Embrace you? It was all he could think about when he made that deal with Ada. Always justifying and compromising. That was what he was known for.

You couldn't fathom the sheer astonishment and joy that overcame him when Ada returned with the news a few weeks later:

“The Prince granted your wish,” she mentioned with an indifferent wave of her hand.

“How?” he choked in disbelief. “It usually takes years!”

“You underestimate me,” she scoffed. “Have you forgotten that I’m the voice of society?”

“No, of course not.” He hung his head in disgrace, as if he had just been told off by a parent.

“Anyway, I don’t have to tell you twice that you should thank him in person.”

Lifting a bejeweled chalice to her lips, she tasted its contents, allowing it to linger on the palate before letting it wash down her throat. “And by ‘thank’, I mean ‘grovel’.”

“Yes, sire.” He bent down on his knee and kissed the back of her hand in respect.

A shadow of annoyance flickered across her face, morphing into a frown. “You do know this makes you look weak?” she questioned rhetorically. “Being unable to convince the Prince yourself?”

He knew better than to respond when Ada was in such a mood.

“Don’t embarrass me.”

Her warning rang loud and clear in his ears.

“Who is it obvious to?” you challenged, pulling him out of his reverie. Maybe you had an undeniable urge to see him lose control over you again.

At this, he drew closer towards you, his eyes ablaze like a blue flame, as he snaked his arms around your waist. That was it — the thrill, the feeling you missed. It rippled through your body, leaving goosebumps in its wake. But before he could go any further, a sudden force tore him from his hold on you, hauling him violently backwards. He was flung in the air across a couple of yards, landing against the wall of a building with a sickening crack.

In the background, you heard screams coming from all directions, alongside whooshing sounds, followed by loud thuds. One soon popped up behind you and in an instant you found yourself smacked to the ground. There was a shrill ringing in your ears, your eyes watered, and your vision blurred as you started seeing double in front of you. You felt the back of your head. Wet. Sticky. Flowing. Your fingers were red and the concussion you suffered induced a dizzying spell.

A grizzly face appeared before you, but you couldn’t quite make out any distinguishable features, except for the familiar shape of long fangs that glistened under the arbor lights. There was no time to put up a fight or even cry out for help, as you began to sink deeper and deeper into unconsciousness.

Leon had watched the entire scene unfurl before him like a twisted snuff film coming to life. The attack had taken him by surprise, but he quickly got up from his fall, resetting his bones and shaking it off like nothing had happened. The whole place was awash in scarlet. Blood streaked the city streets, trickling into every gap and crack, as the victims were messily drained of their lifesource. Whoever was behind this wanted the world to know. And that was when he witnessed the first of them turn.

A Mass Embrace? These Kindred definitely reeked of the Sabbat, and if not, they weren’t anyone who had been presented before the Prince; he would know. There wasn’t a second left to spare — he had to find you immediately. In his line of sight, he saw one of the culprits feeding on you greedily, and the primal rage he felt within him almost caused his Beast to take over. He hunched over and growled ferociously. His features transformed into something monstrous and his eyes were crazed as globs of saliva dribbled down his mouth.

It was fanning the flames of a Frenzy, one where he would slaughter every being in his path regardless of who they were, tearing them from limb to limb, and eviscerating their carcasses for what they had done to you. But his concern for your well-being won him over. Mustering up his willpower, he resisted the Beast as much as he could, and though he was still enraged, he needed to think straight and prioritize getting you to safety. That was all that mattered.

In the bat of an eye, he zipped across, yanking the other vampire away from your limp body, as they traded rapid blows. Another aggressor joined in the fight, as Leon dodged their swift counterattacks with deceptive ease, before connecting his right fist to one of their jaws and dealing a precise uppercut with his left to the other’s ribs, catching both of them off-guard.

Everything seemed to pass by in quicktime as he moved with an unnatural grace, spinning mid-air over one of their backs, only to grab the other from behind and slam him to the ground savagely. Gathering the rest of his strength, he took advantage of the momentum to stomp on the vampire’s head with the heel of his shoe. There was a nauseating crunch as his skull caved in from the blunt force trauma, splintering and sending blood splashing across the pavement, driving him straight into torpor. One down, one more to go.

The brutality of the violence he had displayed unnerved him, yet fuelled his excitement as adrenaline coursed through his veins. He attributed it to being partially influenced by the Beast the moment those bastards had put your life in danger. At least he had not fully succumbed to it. That was what he tried to tell himself while putting a lid on his unquenchable thirst for more. More violence. More bloodshed. They deserve it…

A cacophony of ghastly howls erupted from a distance, bringing him back to reality. Jill, it had to be, Leon realized. The Sheriff was coming to subdue this severe breach of the Masquerade. As the other vampire lunged at him, Leon’s reflexes took over, timing it such that he skirted the edge of the assault unscathed. Instead, he circled around, placing the attacker in an unyielding headlock. The vampire struggled vigorously, attempting to kick and claw his way out of Leon’s grip.

It was then that he heard Jill’s gruff yells in the vicinity, as the pack of dogs under her control barked and gnashed their teeth viciously at the remaining offenders, clamping down on their legs to prevent them from escaping. The Hound, a group of Kindred who reported to her, had arrived in tow, twirling wooden shafts in their hands, each sharpened at one end. Grinning menacingly, they struck at the assailants, staking them immobile before dragging them away.

“You need this one?” Leon called out. He might as well play by their rules where he got the chance, even if the Prince himself had decreed a perpetual Blood Hunt on the Sabbat. Anything to be in the former’s good graces. It was all for show, anyway.

Jill turned sharply, her mouth contorting into a wicked smirk, as she stalked towards him. “Leon… always at the right place, right time, huh?” Her voice was more akin to brutish snarl, but he knew when she meant her threats and when she didn’t. At this point, she was on his side.

“We have our hands full of the rebellious trash.” She jerked her thumb back to her crew, who were skulking around in the dark with their catch. “Kill this motherfucker.”

Without hesitation, Leon snapped the vampire’s neck clean, ripping his head off in the process as his lifeless body fell to the ground in a heap. Letting out a huff from the effort, he tossed the head aside, feeling nothing for the wretched being that lay at his feet. Or did he? He chose not to dwell on it any further, finding something else to distract himself with as he glanced down at his clothes, frowning when he noticed they were smeared with all sorts of fluids and innards. Dry cleaning was gonna be a bitch.

Jill signaled towards your body with her chin. “This one’s barely alive.”

“She’s mine.” A deep-seated possessiveness surged through him as he stepped between you and Jill, unwilling to let you be snatched away from his grasp again. Swooping down, he lifted you into his arms, ready to cart you off from this gruesome site. “Please, I don’t have much time.”

Narrowing her eyes, she tilted her head and a low rumble reverberated from her chest. “Alright, pretty boy. You’re answerable to the Prince though,” she warned.

“Understood,” he replied snippily, cringing at the nickname she often used to wind him up.

Directing her attention once again to her Hound, she commanded, “Torch the rest!”

The poor, newly created vampires never stood a chance, dealing with both the life-changing alterations to their bodies and the molotov cocktails now lobbed at them. They had no idea what was happening as they were set aflame in the towering bonfire, screeching and wailing until they were reduced to nothing but ashes. The smell of singed skin and flesh hung in the air.

Tightening his grip on you, Leon recoiled involuntarily in fear as he fled from the raging inferno. “Hang in there for me,” he whispered, praying to a long-forgotten god that he wouldn’t be too late this time.

Racing like his life depended on it, he kept to the shadows, using the cover of darkness to navigate through the maze of Raccoon City towards his haven.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil #vampire au #vampire the masquerade #vtm #crossover #porcelainscribbles

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plussizefantasia · 10 months

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hey ok ok here it goes please: i was wondering if you could make a thor x plus size reader where. she was one of his online friends when he was chubby and drunk. and then he didnt update his profile picture so you thought he would look like chubby thor when you both decided to meet in person. but he actual was normal fit thor when he showed up and the plus size reader is afraid to accept a date from him thinking its all a joke. no one could like her in her head and she didnt wanna get hurt from him thinking he couldnt like her being plus size and thor being all charming and loving and thinks she looks like a goddess? idk something like that?

My Goddess

A/N: Dear god I'm so sorry. I have fallen off the face of the planet and have left this amazing ask in my box for literal months. Anyway... I hope you like this I've been working on it for a while.

Pairing: Thor x PlusSize!reader

Word Count: ~1,600

You were nervous, beyond nervous. Even though it had been probably five years since you had gone on a date you were going on a date with a guy you had only ever seen pictures of. Through a convoluted chain of friends who knew friends who knew single friends, you had been given the number Thor. Yes, that Thor, the God of Thunder himself, actual Avenger, and totally hottie Thor.

No matter what his reputation was he was very sweet. He talked to you all the time, the two of you texted and called and had been speaking for about six months now. The distance had been off-putting at first, you were in New York City working your dream job and he was leading his people in New Asgard halfway across the world. Regardless you had made it work, even with the time difference.

You had exchanged some pictures about two weeks in and while you were surprised at the shape the actual God was in you found him arguably even more attractive with the bit of gut he had grown. He had told you about his battle with his mental health, how losing his brother and the battle with Thanos had taken a toll on his confidence in himself. He confided in you that he didn’t feel fit to be a King, that he thought he had let his people down, and that he knew he had let himself go but he didn’t see the point in training anymore.

You sent pictures of yourself in exchange and also revealed your insecurities. How you thought that you were too much in every way, too loud, too big, too opinionated. That the messages you had received from the people in your life had torn you down and that you sometimes struggled to hold the pieces together. You both bonded over your vulnerabilities and for the first time in a very long time, you were happy.

At first, you had expected him to stop talking to you, it had been a good run and you were happy that you had talked to the literal legend at all. But the sight of your body had been a turn-off for so many before, you didn’t think a literal god would be any different. But he just praised you for your beauty and continued flirting with you. He made you feel stunning with the way he articulated his thoughts about you. He spoke in sonnets and was generous with his praise. You had never been in a relationship like that before, sure you had had boyfriends before but they never waxed poetic about you. Your weight was always something to be looked over because your personality was so great.

They hadn’t liked you because of your body but despite it.

Thor wasn’t like that, he was charismatic and charming, you supposed that came with the territory of being a prince. He was also terrifying.

The first time he asked to meet up in person was a few days after you sent over the first picture. He had told you how much he loved talking with you and that he wanted to spend time with you in person and show you a good time. He had told you he could come to New York, that he wanted to just see you, to hold you, to be with you. You had turned him down.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to meet him because you would be crazy to not want to be wrapped up in his arms, not only was he one of the most amazing guys you had ever met but he treated you well (and he was a god). It was just your insecurity that kept you from meeting in person, your worries about yourself always got in the way. And they continued to get in the way until you got a little too tipsy one night and dared yourself to invite him out dancing. You woke up the next morning with a massive hangover and a place and time to meet the God of Thunder.

That led you to tonight, meeting Thor at one of the more relaxed clubs near your place in an outfit that had taken way too long to settle on being nervous as hell. You knew that you would recognize him when he walked through the door, he was pretty distinct even without all the fame. But your anxiety had you arriving half an hour early and now you were just sitting and waiting for the moment he walked through the double doors opposite of the bar you were currently residing at.

What you weren’t expecting was the beefy Viking-esque hero who had waltzed in the door. He looked good. He looked more than good, he looked majestic. He looked thinner than in his photo.

You had heard about the second battle the Avengers had had with Thanos, you had tearfully thanked Thor over the phone when you had received an extremely confused text from your little brother who had been dusted the five years prior. You just didn’t think that Thor getting back into the Avenging game would mean that he would zap back into perfect shape this soon. After all, it had only been about a month.

But here he was. Decked out in a black button-up with the sleeves rolled about three-quarters of the way. Dark jeans that hugged his ass just right and some deep red sneakers that looked to be somewhat well-worn. His golden hair was braided intricate and adorned with metal rings and beads to hold it into place. He had shaved his beard you clocked, and the long locks that cascaded off his face were replaced with a closer cut, it was still there but it was much neater, and you could see even more of his beautiful, beautiful face.

It took several seconds to decide on whether or not to flee. This was not the guy you had agreed to meet, you agreed to meet the soft man who was vulnerable with you, this was a warrior who commanded attention. The attention you weren’t sure you wanted on yourself.

In the time you took debating with yourself and making an escape plan, he had noticed you and made his way over to where you were seated at the end of the bar.

“Your pictures did not do you justice, you are even more angelic in person” his words caught you off guard and sent a jolt up your spine and right into your cheeks, turning them crimson. You took another sip of your drink and placed your cup down on top of the napkin laying on the bar.

“Neither do yours, You're much… taller than I thought you’d be.” He laughs at your words and leans his hip against the bar in front of you. His upper body encroached in on your space and sent more blood rushing toward your cheeks.

In a sudden moment of vulnerability, he looks into your eyes and asks “Is that a problem? Me being too… tall?” You know what he was asking, he had changed and he knows that. He was asking if you still wanted him. If you wanted to be with him now even though he was no longer the man in the pictures whom you have connected to.

“No, no I don’t think it is” You smile and place your hand on his. The smile that lights up his face is more than enough for you to know you said the right thing.

The two of you talk and talk all evening. He charms you and you charm him right back. You feel like a live wire, energy coursing through your veins. He is a drug and you are already an addict, but there is something that holds you back.

“I have to ask,” you started “Why did you want to meet me?” apparently it was your turn to be vulnerable. “I know I’m not exactly the most gorgeous woman out there” You duck your head and get suddenly get very interested in your drink. You think this is your fourth, maybe it’s your fifth you can’t remember. Either way, you're feeling floaty and need to know what’s going on in his brain before this goes any further.

He places two of his fingers under your chin and lifts until your eyes meet his. “I wanted to meet you because you have bewitched me. Your beauty is beyond measure, I have traveled the nine realms and have never beheld a more marvelous visage than when I was graced with your image. You have captured my heart with your wit and charm and most importantly you have made me want to be better.” His words stole the air from your lungs and there was only one thing you could think to do.

You lunged forward and grabbed his face with your hands, you placed your lips on his and closed your eyes, waiting and praying for him to reciprocate your bold move. You didn’t have to wait for very long, in the next moment his fingers had woven into your hair and his tongue was swiping against the crease of your lips.

It felt otherworldly, you and he wrapped up in each other, as cliche as it sounded everything but you two fell away. You could live like this, you could die like this and you would go happily. Eventually, you two had to separate, even gods had to breathe.

Your foreheads met one another and he chuckled against you.

“My goddess” he had whispered in between the two of you.

You kissed him again.

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